AN: Mature Content
Five minutes later, they are towel-dried, horny, and unable to keep their hands off of one another as they stumble out of the bathroom toward the bed. His lips are all over her neck, her collarbones, her chest, whatever he can reach with her body pressed tightly against his as they walk haphazardly, one step at a time.
Before they make it even a quarter of the way into the room, he is picking her up, encouraging her to cross her ankles behind his back to keep herself up as he turns and guides them toward the nearest wall.
Her back settles there, and she immediately gasps at the cool wallpaper against her skin. With the contact, the rough feeling of being shoved playfully against the wall, their mouths open, tongues beginning to dance with one another.
As he pins her to the wall, his hands scoop from their hold on her thighs to her ass, lifting her higher in his grasp, her breasts now thankfully within reach. His groan is hot, uncontrollable—he's not ashamed to ogle her tits like this.
"God, you are so sexy," he murmurs against her skin before tracing his tongue around her right nipple, then her left. "Love your body, Livvie."
She can't respond because his mouth then opens, and the pressure and suction around her nipple send shockwaves through her entire body, lighting her on fire from the inside out. Her hips shift restlessly, grinding her core against his abdomen.
"Fuck, love feeling you wet for me already—you are so… sensitive today…" Fitz growls, moving back to her other breast and continuing the alternating suck, tease, flick of his mouth.
And she is. She's never felt like this in her life, every nerve ending feeling exposed. She's dripping, soaked, writhing in his arms, helpless against the onslaught of his touch.
His hips continue to keep her in place, but she's still trying to give as good as she's getting today—whispering dirty things into his ear, biting the lobe, pulling the hair at the nape of his neck. He knows what she's trying to do.
As his lips leave her chest, his teeth find the soft skin of her neck, nipping lightly against her throat between every few words. "Livvie… you are not… in charge… tonight… Let go, pretty girl…"
As soon as he says it, her head thuds back against the wall, tipping her face up to the ceiling and exposing more of the tender skin for his lips to trace.
"Fitz—please—"
It's driving her crazy, the way she can feel him between her thighs already, the head of his cock brushing along her inner thighs, through her folds when she grinds herself low enough. On one particular pass, he hisses as she causes him to fully slide along her slit, notching him accidentally at her entrance.
Immediately, he tuts at her and laughs against her neck at just how impatient she is. In one swoop, his hips pull back from hers, and his arms help her slide down, placing her feet delicately on the carpet. Once released, she assumes where they are headed next and starts to push against his chest to walk them further into the bedroom.
His hands stop her, however, urging her hips back against the wall and immobilizing her as he starts to kiss down her body. It takes a second for her to register that he is talking while his lips get further away from hers.
"As soon as you left my office, I started thinking about how I wanted you tonight… How I wanted to say thank you for that fucking treat this afternoon… You wanna know what I decided, sweetheart?"
He's on his knees now, parting her thighs and gazing up into her eyes. His voice is doing incredible things to her, and she can't trust her own, so she simply hums and nods.
"I thought, you made me come in your mouth, so it's only fair that I make you do the same… As many times as you want… As many times as you can…"
With that, he leans in, placing kisses along her low belly to her hips. His hands continue to open her up, eventually leading her left thigh over his right shoulder. Once she's completely bare, completely exposed to him, he blows a thin stream of cool air over her cunt. Her hips buck involuntarily, and she cries out with need.
Then, his mouth is everywhere—he's sucking bruises along her thighs, he's kissing her mound, he's tracing the thin patch of curls with his tongue, he's teasing along either side of her folds, he's swirling open-mouthed kisses at her clit, he's dipping his tongue into her, he's moaning in ecstasy.
It's wildly erotic, being propped up on one leg, all of the blood rushing to the apex of her thighs, the way his mouth moves so deliberately over her. She tangles her fingers in his curls and starts to rock her hips in rhythm with him.
And he lets her. He lets her grind against his face, his nose unintentionally pressing against her clit as she rolls her hips back and forth, fucking herself on his tongue.
She feels him slide in and out of her, and it's everything. Everything is wet and warm—the deliberate pressure of his tongue, the way it's quick flicks ebb to tender strokes, it's making her dizzy.
Before she met Fitz, Olivia had always considered the cliché of being "weak-kneed" one of school-girl fantasies, not an actual, tangible, relatable reaction to passion.
But here she is, held against a wall, the only things truly maintaining her balance are his hold on her thighs and hips and her fingers tangled through his curls. Her effort to stay upright is valiant, but Fitz can sense that it's stifling her ability to relax… to climax…that she's holding herself back with the effort to hold herself up.
So, without ceremony, he pulls his body away from hers, ignores her whine at the loss of his tongue, stands up, scoops her up in his arms, and throws her over his shoulder. Her palm comes down to slap at his mid-back as she laughs and attempts to threaten him.
"If you don't put me down—Fitz! I swear to god…" She's still laughing though, ass high in the air and an easy target for him to deliver a loving spank to in return.
Three steps later and he can finally crawl onto the bed, shuffling first with his knees before gently placing Olivia down on her back, head resting against the pillows. He doesn't give her long to adjust before he's making his way back down her body to resume what he started.
His hands slide under her thighs, cradling her hips and anchoring his palms against her belly, keeping her in place as his mouth returns to her cunt.
She can hear him slurping, the loud sound of his tongue slipping through her folds, and his groaning, and it's all so much. Though she can't move in this position, she can grab his hair and direct him where she wants him, so she does, guiding his movements—when to go fast, when to go slow.
When his attention is directed once again at her clit, he can hear the change in her breathing—the way it does when she's getting close. He's immediately focused, present, determined, one hand keeping her anchored at her belly, the other coming to help her over the edge.
One finger, then two slide into her and curl up toward her front wall, giving her the specific pressure right on the spot she wants it. Her fingers clutch his hair, her heels dig into the bed on either side of him, and she comes.
She shatters as he works her through it, continuing the suction, keeping the pressure inside of her. The way she squeezes his fingers, tiny pulses of her strong muscles, combined with the rush of moisture on his hand makes him growl darkly, hips rutting into the bed where he's undoubtedly left a stain in the comforter from his precum.
Fuck—she's irresistible. The way she smells, the way she tastes, the way she feels… She's reeling him in tonight in a way that feels unique.
Maybe their bodies just know that tonight is special… That they've made this commitment, that they are going to try this, finally.
Maybe their bodies have just settled into this new normal… This let's have sex every night, as much as we want normal.
Maybe their bodies have waited years to indulge in one another as much as they want.
Whatever it is, he can't get enough of her.
He reluctantly withdraws his fingers, reaching up and offering them to her—he knows the way it makes her come undone, tasting herself, sucking on his fingers.
Her lips wrap around his middle, then ring fingers, letting him press firmly against her tongue, letting him pulse them slightly, pushing them deeper in her mouth with each press. As she sucks, she moans… it's the ultimate tease… for them both.
With his fingers still in her mouth, he gazes lazily up at her from between her thighs, admiring her blissfully relaxed features, her wild hair slightly curled from the steam of their bath, her skin shining, stretched out in front of him.
"So pretty… Look at you. So good… Love you…"
Once he's given her sufficient time to come down, he surprises her. One moment she's laying on her back, the next she's flipped over, trying to steady herself by clutching the headboard. Fitz is on his back now, and he catches her eyes peering down at his face, wonderfully close to her core.
Initially, she looks confused. She's on her knees, and while she's no stranger to riding him, to sinking down on his cock, to bouncing and rolling her hips over his… this is new to her. She's stretched out over his face, vulnerable, and he's looking at her as if she holds the key to the universe, that she alone is about to enlighten him.
Then, he turns his head, still keeping eye contact with her, and starts to pepper kisses along her inner thighs. Whatever it is about this position is automatically working for her—the sensation is heightened, his scruff on her inner thighs is making her feel tingly, and her core is throbbing so intensely, she considers asking him if he can tell.
Again, he blows a puff of air over her because he wants to see how much this is affecting her, and it has the desired result. Her head is tossed back, resting between her shoulder blades, her knuckles tighten against the headboard, and her hips dart upward away from the sensation.
"Fuck, Livvie… So beautiful like this…"
His lips return to her thighs, planting soft kisses, waiting for her to… to do something? It becomes apparent quickly that she… isn't sure what to do.
"C'mere…" he groans against her skin, tugging her thighs down and apart, bringing her core closer to him. "Do what feels good…"
"You want me to—"
"Yes, baby. I want you to sit on my face…"
Fuck.
While she doesn't know exactly what to do, as soon as he says it, she knows that she wants to do it. Widening her knees, she lowers over his mouth and closes her eyes.
Immediately, she's crying out, whimpering, sobbing, because the way he feels like this is heavenly… unlike anything she could have expected.
He's licking through her folds, grabbing her ass and helping her grind her hips back and forth. His tongue is inside of her again, and she gasps at how much deeper he can go like this.
After a few moments, she has to open her eyes to confirm that he's still breathing because she is, quite literally, sitting on his face. God, the look on his face—completely gone, blissful—has her crying out yet again.
Wordlessly, his left hand leaves her ass and reaches up to grab her right, guiding it down her own body and stopping as he presses it against her mound.
"Touch yourself—"
And as his hand returns to her ass with a light slap, she does. Her fingers rub tiny circles on her clit, and the combination of his tongue and her touch send her over the edge quickly.
"Fitz! Fuck—"
Her hips rock and twitch over him a few more times, and she slumps her upper body over the ornate headboard, riding out the sensations drawn from his tongue before he eases it out of her. She breathes and hums, temporarily sated from her orgasm and having no desire to move from her current position.
Once she's returned to her body a bit more, she registers only one palm kneading her ass, so she peers over her shoulder to find Fitz leisurely stroking his cock, watching her watch him. Instantly, she's hungry, seeing his fist pumping, seeing his balls drawn in tightly, seeing his head glistening, begging to be sucked.
He must have seen the glint in her eye because before she can turn her hips around and crawl down his body, he's slipped out from underneath her and is kneeling with her, crowding up against her back—sixty-nine-ing will have to wait…he stows the thought away to suggest for tomorrow night.
It all speeds up once he's behind her—his shaft against her ass, his lips pecking down her spine, his hands intertwining with hers against the head of the bed. She rocks her hips back against him, and she must be begging because he starts to chuckle against her ear, telling her to be patient, that he will take care of her.
In the next breath, one of his hands leaves hers to grasp his length, brushing the head through her folds, coating himself in her, then guiding himself inside. He goes slow—can feel how swollen and sensitive her cunt is—and draws out the stretch, seemingly going millimeter by millimeter until he finally settles his pelvis against her.
When his hand returns, he doesn't tangle their fingers together. Instead, it slides up her belly, over her breasts, coming to rest eventually… around her throat.
His fingers squeeze ever so gently in time with his first thrust, and Olivia can hardly breathe because it's just so much. Her head tosses back against his shoulder as he pulls her more upright against him, anchoring her and continuing to roll his hips against her backside.
Then, he's talking in her ear, a hoarse, husky whisper against her skin, trying to keep her grounded as he fucks her.
"My god, baby—so tight around me… Such a good girl, coming on my face like that—wish everyone could see you like that… Could know that you're mine—know that you come so hard for me. That you love my mouth on you… My fucking hand on your throat… you love it all, don't you, Livvie?"
She's whimpering, clutching at his arms holding her up as she feels every inch of him thrusting in and out of her. Her body is starting to feel heavy, exhausted, but he's so focused, chasing her pleasure, that she knows it's inevitable.
When both of his hands cup her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples, pinching and rolling, she gasps, squeaks, and peaks again. As soon as he pulls away this time, however, her thighs feel…wetter than usual.
"Fucking hell, Liv… Such a good girl—didn't know you could—"
His voice trails off, and she fights to not feel embarrassed. She didn't know she could either.
But she doesn't have to fight very hard because he's so turned on by it, he can't stop praising her, worshipping every inch of skin he can touch. He then promptly tosses the wet pillow off the bed and lays her back down before propping himself between her thighs and entering her once again.
Their lips meet, eyes connected on one another as they start slowly, moving together, focusing on the stretch, the glide, their love. Once their tongues collide, things speed up.
He buries his face in her neck, and she doesn't even try to get him to slow down. She wants him to come just as much as he does. So, she relaxes and moans into his ear as his strokes lengthen and quicken.
"Oh god, Fitz—yes—like that, fuck yes—you feel so good…so big…make me feel so good. Make me so wet for you… Made me fucking—oh my god, I'm gonna come—please, Fitz. Want you to come with me… Need you to—want you to come inside me—please, need your cum, fuck—just like that—oh fuckkk—"
As soon as she's rambling in his ear, he doesn't hold back, and when he feels her core start to squeeze and flutter around him, he can't help but let go with her. He groans and swears and comes deep inside her, hips jerking into her heat.
The feeling is always amazing—them coming together, so connected, so in sync with each other, breathing the same air, experiencing the same pulses.
A flush always rises to her cheeks when she thinks about admitting how much she loves this part of it—the way his cum feels pouring into her, making her his. The way it makes him feral, watching it drip out of her. The way it feels dangerous, even while being on birth control—it feels naughty, like something they shouldn't really be doing.
She whimpers as he reluctantly pulls out and the head of his cock slips free, trickling the last few drops of himself right over her clit. He moans at the sight, fingers immediately following the white streaks on her skin.
He's possessive, and these moments have always been his biggest fantasy—her being his, her being full of him, her getting…
He doesn't even let himself think it because he knows that still feels far away, but the fantasy is enough for him. His fingers glide through her folds a few times as he watches her writhe beneath him, gazing into her beautiful, blissed-out eyes.
"Fitz—"
"Shh, it's okay… you can be mine for a few more minutes—" he whispers, slipping his fingers back inside of her.
As he fucks her slowly, lazily, he considers his words. Maybe now she is his. Maybe she can be his. Maybe his possession of her doesn't have to only live within the confines of their post-coital bliss anymore. Maybe he can claim her in ways that don't involve his spend…as much as he fucking loves it, he loves the idea that she can be his outside of their bedroom even more.
That she can be his… and he can be hers.
"Yours…" Olivia murmurs softly, rising up onto her elbows to watch him between her thighs.
His fingers slide out, and they share a moan at the state of her creamy, messy core. "Mine…"
Then, his touches become gentle and soft, kissing across her hips, below her belly button, between her breasts, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her lips. It's all sweet and innocent now as he settles next to her on the bed and cradles her body into his.
They don't care about the comforter or the staff that will have to deal with… that… tomorrow once they've gone to work. He simply holds her, lets her head rest against his chest, and hugs her body as close to his as he can.
Ten minutes later, they're cleaned up, boxers and panties donned, and ready for bed. Olivia is already under the covers, waiting for him to turn out the lights and come back to her—she misses him already. Her body feels exhausted, now even more so than she did when she first walked into this room hours ago.
"Here you go, love—" he murmurs softly to her in the dim glow of the lamp next to the bed, helping her sit up to take a sip of water from their shared glass before he puts it down on her nightstand and walks around to his side of the bed. "How's your back?"
"It's okay—" she attempts, but as soon as she rolls on her side, he can see her wince in pain.
"C'mere…" Fitz beckons, pulling her into the middle of the bed and turning her onto her belly. As soon as he straddles her thighs, his hands are on her, fingers pressing into her tender, tight muscles. His thumbs roll slow circles on either side of her spine, stretching and massaging.
It doesn't feel relaxing, per se, but she knows that it will make her feel better, that she will be able to sleep much easier after he finishes. He's the only one she lets touch her like this—the thought of anyone trying to coax her muscles like this, terrifying and uncomfortable.
She hisses at a particularly deep press on what she assumes is her tightest knot, and he finally eases the pressure, planting a kiss at the top of her spine before switching off her lamp and climbing into bed.
His body spoons up behind hers, letting her weight rest back against him. Easy conversation flows for a few minutes—let's have breakfast together in the morning… kick Robbins's ass for me tomorrow, okay?... veto Senate bill 2497—it sucks… did you set an alarm for the morning?
Then, the conversation lulls—they are both tired, their eyes feeling heavy—and she feels him slide a pillow between her knees to help keep her hips in alignment, so her back doesn't flair up again.
The way he takes care of her. The way he loves her. The way he comforts her.
He's sweet and caring and raunchy and kind and playful and serious and smart…
Her perfect match.
Before she is really aware of what's happening, she's picturing everything that comes next. She imagines their future, she imagines him next to her, she imagines leaving the White House together and choosing what kind of place they might buy together, she imagines selling her apartment, living with him, going to sleep every night like this together, waking up each morning to each other's eyes.
There are other things that she couldn't picture before—rings, a wedding, a swollen belly—things she never thought she wanted but here in his arms, she pictures them, and they are beautiful.
Her eyes are wet before she can stop the tears.
Whole, beautiful, fulfilling, life changing, extraordinary love.
AN: Whew! Our lovers finally getting to celebrate their love together. Thank you everyone for your kind feedback on this story! I'm having so much fun writing it! :) Let me know what you think xx