About Last Night

"Last night, what happened…You think it was wrong, and that I'm-"

"Were you… I mean, did I hurt you?"

"You were afraid."

"…"

"Would it help you to know that I've never come so hard in my life?"

Six months before 'Royals'

Wednesday morning

Wet. Olivia was wet and warm. And she was crying. She promised she wouldn't do this, but here she was crying and hugging herself under the pulsating jet stream of her shower head. The sight of gelatinous maroon clots slithering down the drain made her eyes squeeze shut even tighter. She could discern the feel of the tears from the water's warmth. The tears stung with mockery. Was she being punished for what she did with Fitz last night? Fitz. She had pretended to succumb to the sweet post-coitus wave that usually follows her orgasm, but she was wide awake under the guise of sleep.

"Hi."

Olivia froze.

She hadn't heard the bathroom's door open. She must have left it ajar, so careful was she to not wake him.

Fitz reached for the shower door's handle. Their joint showers, which frequently turned into playtime, were mostly a weekend or holiday luxury. He wasn't thinking of that now. Shortly after climax last night, he had felt an emotional fissure between them. He would not let it fester. He needed the reassurance of her closeness. For what seemed like hours last night, he watched her chest rise up and down, willing her to stir, have a bad dream, something to disrupt her sleep so he could get her attention. He had no idea what time he had finally fallen asleep. How could he sleep after what he'd done to her. Her hands had been on his ass as he penetrated her in the deep and strong way that she loved. In his head, he recollected her eyes. Her hands moving to his hair. He told her how beautiful she was. Ran his thumb over her lips, and grabbed her face. And then things took an unexpected turn, one that still had him confused and slightly frightened. They needed to talk.

"Fitz, no. Please, I'm almost done. The jury's back from deliberation today on Senator Meyer's case. I need to make sure my team is prepped for either result. I just need some time to focus. Can we talk later tonight?"

He sighed, understanding. "OK. Don't leave without telling me, please?"

She was definitely avoiding him. He knew Olivia. Her team was already prepped for either result.

"Fitz..."

"You seem different, Olivia—distant since last night. You're avoiding me."

"Fitz," she sighed. Her consternation was firm and persuasive.

The consequence of a good marriage, Fitz thought, is that you know your wife as well as she knows herself. You recognize her bullshit tactics before she's ready to admit to them.

"Liv," he said, trying not to get exasperated, "I'm going to shower down the hall. But we will talk. I think you owe me that." He closed the door gently as he retreated. The thick steam of the shower, fragrant with the smell of now wilting hyacinths, permeated the silence of the room. The water was turning cold. Olivia's lip trembled, and her skin pricked with goose pimples. She lifted her head toward the heavens.

"What am I doing?"

Tuesday night...

The hour was late. Six weeks had passed since the last stitch of renovation was sewn up, but Fitz had grown accustomed to parking on the street due to the contractors' skips and vans crowding his driveway. As he pulled up beside Olivia's Audi, Fitz could see that most of the lights were off, save for the soft glow emanating from the master suite. It made a change, as he frequently arrived home before his wife.

"Livvie?" Fitz called out to the darkness upon entering his home. He removed his camel-colored mohair coat, a gift from his wife upon being appointed President of Georgetown University. His first annual meeting with the university's Board of Directors had run on for nearly three hours, 90 minutes longer than he had planned. It had exhausted him, and given him a new set of worries to mitigate.

He hung his coat in the mudroom's closet before heading toward the kitchen. He wasn't hungry. Food was always provided at these meetings. What he needed was a finger, or two, of scotch to relax him. But mostly, he wanted to spend some time with Olivia. The kitchen was last to be completed. He fumbled with the control panel on the wall containing all the switches and buttons needed to control the electrics downstairs. The panel itself was back-lit with a luminous blue light. Distinguishing the writing below each button was another matter. Finally he pounded a button, lighting up the range hood. A note awaited him there:

"I ordered from that new Lebanese place. The lamb was a bit heavy. Too much cumin, maybe? I left a plate for you in the fridge. XOXO."

He smiled and put the note in his pocket. She could so easily text him with this information. The fact that she continued to leave these notes made her that much more adorable. He poured his Bowmore, then headed upstairs to Olivia.

Olivia lay in their claw-foot tub, her eyes closed, listening to the somber notes of Miles Davis's genius through the bathroom's built-in speakers. The music was soft, and through it she could hear Fitz padding into the master suite. The swagger of his lazy gait turned her on just as much as his firm and confident strut. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, alerting her to his nearness. His impending arrival triggered a smile.

"Well hello, Dolly."

She had been expecting him, yet still his baritone jolted her nipples to attention. They peeked out above the water's surface, creating a vivid contrast with the milkiness of the bath. Fitz stood directly behind her. She looked up to see him take a swig of his drink as he lowered the volume of the music to near silence. She involuntarily arched her back, tilting her head further toward his thighs. This made her breasts and the top of her rib cage fully visible above the water. He smiled down at her smiling up at him.

"Hi, beautiful."

"Hi, handsome."

"Am I leering?"

"A bit."

"That's because I've got the best view in all of Washington. Mind if I objectify you for a moment longer before I kiss you?"

"Baby, as much as it turns me on when you stare down at me like that, my neck can't take much more of this." She raised her neck before continuing. "Why don't you pull up that stool next to the tub and objectify me from there. You can even tell me about your day while you do it. A two-fer! But first..."

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Kiss me." Fitz reached around her and tilted her head back once more before bending down and taking her lips for the first time after a 14 hour day. By instinct, she reached a wet hand out to run through his curls. Fitz quickly jerked away from her. Olivia playfully splashed him in retaliation, causing them both to chuckle.

With the stool in his hand, Fitz smirked in that lopsided way that she found so irresistible. At times she wanted to pinch his cheeks, other times slap him, and still at other times hold those same cheeks as her tongue played double-dutch inside his mouth.

Fitz seated himself on the stool, which, like virtually everything else in the room, was a shade of white. Olivia had muscled in her preference on most of the house's renovations. Using his craftiness, he was able to surprise her with a few details in their master bedroom. She was adamant that the bathroom reflect a cross between clinical and Nantucket white. The translation of this turned out to be a rainbow of white, absent any cheesy rope, molluscs, or anchor themes.

"Sometimes I think you wanted this bathroom completely white so that you'd always be the most vivid thing in it." Fitz playfully observed.

She returned a broad smile. "Well, I think those flowers have outshone me this time."

He turned his head to see a short, bulbous crystal vase filled with striking flowers whose fragrance permeated the room.

"Purple hyacinths this time?"

"I know. Blame Elizabeth Cadi Stanton..."

Fitz scrunched his brow as he took a sip of his drink.

"I had to track down Mrs. Meyers, or should I say Elizabeth Cadi Stanton, as was the fake name she used to check into a hotel. Before I could finally manage to convince her to take the stand on behalf of her husband, she regaled me with a story about wanting to cheat on her husband with some guy with beautiful thighs. She hates her husband, by the way. Speaking of whom, I fully expect him to beat the murder charges tomorrow, so long as Shelley delivers on the stand."

"Of course you'll win. You're the best." Fitz reached to kiss her forehead.

"Don't congratulate me just yet. What I didn't tell you is that I advised Mrs. Meyers to get a divorce. Senator Meyers has a problem. He's not a good guy." Olivia sponged her arms. "So, yes, hyacinths were all Tommy had left. Well, those and a bevy of carnations and white roses. Clearly the carnations were out of the question. And white roses—"

"A choice-less choice, essentially."

"That sounds a little sad. Let's just say I was drawn to these above all the rest."

"Except purple hyacinths are practically the equivalent of white roses."

"I haven't decided if I love or hate the fact that you have such an extensive knowledge of flowers. But I take comfort in the fact that you still haven't grasped the spectrum of colors. That, my love, is not purple; It's lilac."

He stared at her incredulously for a moment, thinking that lilac was most certainly part of the purple family. "But..."

Olivia pivoted away from an unnecessary quibble over something that was an obvious fact. "I know your view is to die for, but would you mind loofah-ing my back?"

Fitz loosened his lapis colored tie, sprinkled with tiny—almost imperceptible—buttercup hued polka dots. He tucked the end inside his shirt. His sterling, monogramed 'FTG III' cufflinks were the next to go before folding back the sleeves of his textured, white oxford.

The sight of Fitz's muscular forearms, with their network of slightly raised blue-green veins, caused Olivia's belly to quiver. She began conjuring a familiar moment: him between her thighs, holding himself up with those strong forearms, peering into her soul as his dick tunneled into her with purpose. The bath water was cooling, but Olivia felt the warm flush of desire creeping up her neck. She shivered, allowing a whimper to escape her lips.

"Are you cold?" Fitz asked from behind her. "I'll turn some more hot water on."

"No, don't. I'm ready to get out of the bath."

Fitz grabbed a white bath sheet to wrap around Olivia's petite frame, along with a smaller towel.

Olivia stood, like Aphrodite, her hand tenuously embracing the bottom swell of one breast. Her hair was piled atop her head in a messy bun, and loose, wet tendrils clung to her youthful neck. Her skin gleamed, befitting her grace.

"Fitz! What are you—" she said in surprise as he scooped her up into a bridal carry.

"Shhhh," he ordered with a smile. He then kissed her perfect nose.

Olivia flung her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into this neck. His fragrance—woody, musky and green all at once— though faded, made her heady. She had an urge to bite him. "Mmm, how do you still smell so goo-"

She was interrupted by being unceremoniously plopped down onto her side of the bed. Hers was the side closest to the bathroom. "You must not work very hard for a living if you smell almost as good as when I kissed you good-bye this morning."

Fitz opened the bath sheet, unwrapping Olivia like a delicate present. "Not very hard at all. Running a prestigious university with roughly 18,000 students, 1,600 faculty, and three campus locations? Piece of cake." Fitz stared at her face while he used that smaller towel to dab at the moisture on her neck.

"Tell me about your cake walk of a day, then, mister." Olivia lifted her arms at an angle for Fitz to pat them with a towel.

"I'm going to Japan. That's about the most exciting outcome from the Board meeting. It should be a productive trip. I'm told we have excellent donor prospects out there. Tokyo, in particular. A ten percent increase in the endowment is only going to happen if I pursue every credible opportunity. We're setting up a partnership with the Ministry of Education in Osaka as well."

Fitz was now working on Olivia's legs. Raising each one gave him an excellent view of one of his favorite spots to luxuriate. His cock twitched at the thought. Kissing the bottoms of her feet, he announced, "All done".

Propped up on her elbows, Olivia congratulated him. "Japan?! That's exciting. The money is, of course, great news, and the educational partnership could open up new avenues of cultural exchange for Georgetown. When are you leaving? And for how long?" She frowned slightly at the thought of an absence that would be longer than a few days.

"Three, maybe four months from now. We're still negotiating. For how long, we haven't decided."

"Fitz, you are going to make a great president, one of the finest Georgetown has ever known. I have it on good authority that you're certainly the sexiest." She grabbed Fitz by his loosened tie, bringing him down to her for a scorcher of a kiss. Her tongue caressed his over and over again in a dance so familiar, yet always so electric. He kneeled at the side of the bed, not wanting to climb on top of her in his clothes and shoes. Her hands roamed over the sinewy muscles in his back, the planes and ridges of which were only marginally obscured by the shirt he wore. God she wanted him. To be taken by him, completely and totally. This enigmatic arousal had sporadically penetrated her thoughts all day. Some featured new scenarios, toys, and taboo acts. Things she's never tried. As quickly as they came, she tried to banish every instance.

Fitz wanted to make love to her. Seeing the moonlight beaming down on her body through the skylight in the bath had reinvigorated him after a long day. He reluctantly pulled away from her lips. "I'll be right back." Olivia watched him swagger to the bathroom, her lips still mourning the sudden loss of his mouth.

Fitz returned with his crystal tumbler of scotch, but without his shirt. Gone, too, were his slacks, which had now been replaced by his favorite blue, pinstriped pyjama bottoms.

"What do we have here? Don't tell me you're all snuggled up for bed."

"Why don't you come find out." There was a glint of mischief in her eyes.

Fitz set his drink down on Olivia's night stand. He pretended to peel back the covers slowly before suddenly snatching them back, like ripping off a band-aid. Feigning shock at her naked body, Fitz said, "Why, Mrs. Grant, I do believe you're after something."

"Question is, will you give it to me?"

"And how."

"Preferably deep. And hard."

Fitz wasted no time crawling over Olivia's frame, straddling her hips. He reached for the Bowmore and instructed, "Open your mouth." Dipping two of his fingers in, he spread the amber liquid over her pillowy lips. He continued a brief path with the liquid, spreading it down her chin and neck until he reached that little hollow at the base of her neck. He lapped up the liquid in a reverse trail back up to Olivia's mouth.

Olivia's hips gently writhed at the feel of Fitz's warm tongue on her skin. "More," she pleaded.

Seeing her eyes dance with desire, Fitz once again dipped his index and forefinger into the scotch. "Suck."

Fuck if the boom in his baritone didn't fan the flame building inside her. Olivia brought her head up to capture Fitz's fingers, his orders spurring her on. Her mouth clamped his fingers firmly, until her lips were down to his knuckle.

"Fuck," Fitz remarked at the sight of her. By now, Olivia's thighs were splayed as far apart as she could get them, the bottoms of her feet touching. His dick twitched in his pants as it grew to capacity from watching her eagerly fellate his fingers. But it was the gleam in her eyes as she did it that really drove him over the edge.

Fitz retired his glass to the table, and reached his left hand back to run his fingers through Olivia's folds. She was slick and swollen as his fingers glided effortlessly through the valley of her cunt. "You naughty girl. What are you thinking about?"

He moved both his thick digits to her entrance, pushing inside her. Olivia released her grip on Fitz's fingers, moaning at the feel of him filling her. With his fingers inside two of his favorite places, Fitz couldn't decide if he wanted to fuck her mouth or devour her like a last meal.

She ached for him. "Fitz," she pleaded as she thrashed her head from side to side. Her upper body bucked for more. He leaned down closer to her. Pursing his lips, he brushed them against Olivia's ear. A soft stream of his breath whispered in her ear, causing her whole body to prickle with passion. "Did I tell you to stop?"

Olivia looked back at Fitz, biting down so hard on her lip she thought she could taste blood. She coyly shook her head.

"I want you… to tell me that you want what I want." Fitz started massaging her clit with his thumb as his curled fingers continued to stroke her walls. He was driving her insane with need. Her mouth opened in surprise and pleasure. She was under his spell.

"Your mouth is open, but that's not the invitation I'm looking for. Tell. Me."

"Put your fingers in my mouth."

He kissed her deeply instead, the intoxicating mix of him and the scotch swirled around her tongue. Fitz ended the kiss and smiled wickedly down at her. He pulled his fingers from her saturated cove, deciding to give her those fingers instead. She gazed at him defiantly.

"I'm jealous. You're getting a taste before I do. You have no respect."

Olivia's mouth was full, but her body shook with laughter, compelled by his corniness. Fitz felt the vibration of her amusement around his fingers, causing him to break character for a moment, too. Things turned serious again when Fitz reached back to gently pinch her clit. She turned her head, releasing his fingers from her mouth. Olivia was undone. Feeling his cock inside her was the imperative she would now doggedly pursue. She reached inside the band of his pyjamas, springing his member free. She tried to temper her ragged breathing as her tiny hands moved up and down his stiffening erection.

"Fitz... fuck me. Now."

His arousal escaped the tip of his dick, making Olivia's hands wet. There was nothing he wanted more than to be buried to the hilt inside her, but he decided to test her resolve, and his restraint, to the limit.

"Uh, uhn, uhn. That sounds suspiciously like a demand, not a request."

Olivia's face was a vision of innocent mischief: her eyes were wide and blinked with exaggeration. Before he knew it, she tugged on his bottoms until all that she desired was completely exposed. He moved off of her like lightning, discarding his pants on the floor. Message received.

Wednesday evening...

The salmon and eggplant hues of dusk's waning light loomed in the sky as Olivia exited her car. Gone was the high from today's win with Senator Meyer. She'd barely had any time to eat, let alone dread the conversation she needed to have with Fitz. She picked the wrong night to be capricious in the bedroom. She had no idea he would have such deep feelings about the whole thing. The surprise cramps that overwhelmed her in the middle of the night had changed her focus. She resented Fitz for wanting comfort from her when all she wanted to do was soak in her distress. Eight months. She really thought it was going to happen this time. Now she would have to spread that disappointment to Fitz, too. Again.

Olivia opened the mail drawer to see that Fitz had already sorted today's mail. Nothing important by the looks of it. It was then that her eyes spotted a large glass of red wine sitting next to a packet of tampons. There, too, was a note:

"I knew you would have a busy day. I'm upstairs. I miss you."

Her heart swelled. This man, she thought, as she shook her head. He'd let her get away with nothing, not even self-indulgently punishing herself for what she regarded as failure. After grabbing the wine and the tampons, Olivia went in search of her husband.

Fitz sat on their California king-sized bed, his back against the padded linen headboard. Since arriving home early—two hours before Olivia—Fitz had spent most of his time reading on his iPad. He left his clothes on, discarding only his jacket and shoes.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Thank you," Olivia said as she held up her Crate and Barrel glass, and the tiny box of tampons.

"Come here," Fitz beckoned sympathetically.

"Yes, professor," Olivia smiled through slightly glassy eyes. She placed her wine glass on her night stand and crawled over to Fitz's side of the bed, still clad in her grey Armani suit. She reached up to Fitz's face and removed his reading glasses before giving him a sweet, soft kiss. Fitz held her gaze as the back of his hand brushed her smooth cheek. He could see flecks of bravery, worry, but mostly vulnerability, swirling about in her brown eyes. Olivia let her gaze slip.

""What are you reading?"

Fitz immediately pushed the sleep button on his iPad. "Nice try." He scooped her up into his lap.

"You knew."

"We've been married just four years. We've been trying for a baby for, what..." Fitz did the math in his head.

"Eight long months," Olivia finished.

"Just eight months," Fitz revised. "I pay attention to more than just your ovulation days."

She regarded him curiously. He was an attentive husband, but not that attentive. "This set is perfect for spring. I was going to change the bedding this weekend, but I see you got to it before me."

"It was my turn to make the bed this morning."

Olivia played with the collar on his shirt and waited patiently for the admission.

"You had a little accident...only small." There we go, she thought. She shook her head and chuckled.

"But the rest of it I put together. Don't I get points for getting the right brand and size of tampons at least?"

"Fitz, you've been buying me those for years."

"Because you ask me. This time I showed initiative."

Olivia couldn't stop laughing into his neck. That laughter being Fitz's favorite sound, he just held her torso as her body shook at his expense. He looked down at her face, thankful that he hadn't been a coward five years ago. The moment was light, but they still needed to talk about what was bothering him. He held her slightly away from him so he could look into her eyes. He needed to know if it bothered her, too, or was her moroseness solely about not being pregnant.

"Livvie, I know you are prepared to sacrifice your body for our child. I need you to know how much that means to me. But you—you alone—are enough for me. Too much, sometimes," he smirked. "The only way you could fail me would be to completely deprive me of your love." He moved her long fringe away from the side of her face before continuing. "I want to see your face in our little girl, or boy, so much it hurts. It only hurts because I love you so much. To think of any part of you being replicated in someone we create together, is just...It's..." Fitz tried hard to swallow his own emotion in order to give Olivia what she needed. "It's everything. Whether that happens naturally or by intervention, we are in this together. That means all the joy and all the sorrow. Don't leave me out of any of it. Please." Fitz held her firmly once more.

Olivia held him just the same, letting the intensity of her grip speak the words she did not have. It was a language Fitz understood well.

Olivia extracted herself from that serene embrace and straddled Fitz's thighs so she could face him. Fitz drew his legs up, trapping Olivia mere inches from his face.

"Fitz, I've gotten lipstick and mascara all over your collar."

"That's what dry cleaners are for."

She kissed him sweetly on the lips before admitting, "I need a lifetime with you. Anything else would just be scratching the surface. "

He booped her nose, which never failed to make her smile. "Now, talk to me."

She took a deep breath knowing where this was going. "Haven't we already talked about this," she listlessly protested.

"Olivia, don't be cute. You know exactly what I'm referring to."

She hadn't even articulated to herself why what Fitz did to her felt so good. Too good. Scary good. She struggled with where to begin.

"Last night… What happened…You think it was wrong, and that I'm-"

"Were you…I mean, did I hurt you?" Fitz interjected tentatively.

"You were afraid," Olivia pinpointed.

Fitz said nothing, but instead reached for his iPad.

"Would it help you to know that I've never come so hard in my life?"

Tuesday night...

Olivia had flipped herself onto her stomach, arching her back for Fitz to enter her. Enveloped by a maelstrom of carnal desire, sensual love-making was too decent to sate this feeling. She needed pure animalistic fucking. She wanted him to be aggressive with her. To fuck her senseless until the tensions her Epsom salts bath had failed to soothe were gone.

Fitz hovered over her back like he was doing a push up. He ran the underside of his cock along the ridge between Olivia's cheeks. Olivia spread her legs and undulated her hips as she readied herself for him. Feeling the whispering closeness of his hard body against hers produced ribbons of wetness, in which she opined for him to partake.

Fitz began nibbling the side of her neck. He grabbed his dick, knowing how much she wanted it, and began saturating himself in her wetness over, and over, and over again.

"Fiiiiiitz!" Olivia cried out in frustration.

Fitz chuckled darkly in Olivia's ear. "Turn around. I like to see you all spread out before me. I want to see your face when you come for me."

Olivia turned over. Fitz grabbed a pillow off the floor to place under her lower back. As soon as she was in place, Olivia grabbed Fitz's cock and lined him up at her entrance. Fitz eased himself inside, relishing the feel of being one with her again. Like telling her he loved her, it was a feeling he would never tire of. Fitz grabbed Olivia's calves and held them up in the air with one hand. The other he used to knead her petite breasts.

Olivia's hip movements were not in time with Fitz's. She was moving faster than he seemed to want to go. "Harder, baby, please. Just fuck me," she keened.

Fitz began giving her hard, deep strokes. She had to admit being on her back was never a bad position. Her husband's body was lovingly sculpted. He needed a haircut. The errant curl that bounced against his now sweaty forehead was driving her wild. Everything about him was driving her insane with need. The way his biceps bulged as he held onto her calves. The way his lips curled to reveal the determined grit of his teeth. How arresting his gaze was as he pistoned in and out of her with purpose.

"Oh, God. Closer, I want you closer." Olivia rushed out, pinching her nipples as she angled her body closer to Fitz.

He knocked Olivia's legs apart and spread his arms on either side of her torso. She brought her hands down to his spectacular ass as he pumped into her. Soon one hand found purchase in his damp, curly nape. Their tongues cavorted wantonly in and out of each other's mouths, licking any body part available to them. Suspended in a haze of lust, he couldn't get enough of her, and she wanted to feel him everywhere at once.

Olivia moved the hand on Fitz's ass to massage her clit. He was giving her everything she needed. She was almost there. Fitz grabbed Olivia's chin and jaw line in the 'V' of his hand. He spoke gruffly in her ear, "That's my job."His voice was gravelly, his eyes tempestuous. This was a 180 degree turn from the earlier Fitzgerald who stared at her with adoration as he held her in a bridal carry. That Fitz warmed her heart. This Fitz made her want to come so hard.

Caught in the moment, Olivia grabbed his hand and eased it further down to grasp her delicate neck. She continued to stroke herself as Fitz's dick now pummeled into her. She could feel that she was hurtling towards one of the best orgasms she'd had in a long time. Her tiny hand did its best to clasp Fitz's reluctant one in place. Her lids became heavy with lust. She was a bomb waiting to detonate. Before she could contemplate her actions, her orgasm exploded inside her. It ricocheted through every part of her body, reaching to her toes, her fingernails, even her eyebrows.

The combustion of Olivia's orgasm pushed Fitz closer to his. He hurriedly removed his hand from her neck. Instead he placed both hands underneath her shoulder blades, holding her firmly to his chest as his hips pumped erratically to denouement.

Fitz continued to hold Olivia tightly as she kissed his ear and ran her hand up and down his back.

"You are so sexy," she yawned before her body grew heavy with sleep. Fitz took that as his cue to roll off of her. Olivia turned onto her side whispering "I love you. Goodnight." She drew the duvet over her naked form.

Fitz stared at the back of her head, his eyes wide with questions.

Wednesday night...

"Livvie, the magnitude of your orgasm isn't my concern. I mean, ordinarily it is... What I'm saying is, pleasing you pleases me. You know that. You have yet to ask me for something that I can't, or won't, give to you, but—"

"The answer is 'no', by the way," Olivia interrupted. "You didn't hurt me. You pleased me. So, so much."

"I know that... now."

Bemused, Olivia tilted her head. Fitz unlocked his iPad and passed it to her.

Olivia looked at the webpage. There before her was a dizzying dictionary of S&M terms. "Erotic asphyxiation," she read aloud. "You were doing research?"

"I want you to imagine that you have large hands. And I want you to imagine one of those large hands around the neck of a petal of a woman. See her eyes start to get heavy and close as your giant hand is on her neck. Imagine that the woman is someone you love, someone whose life you value more than your own."

"Fitz, I—"

"You only had to feel. I had to witness this. Yes, I could have easily flung your hand off of my own. But because your hand was there, I knew that's what you wanted. Why you wanted it, I still have no clue. It's the 'why' that has me bothered."

Olivia placed the iPad on the bed before palming her husband's face. "Fitz, this isn't a legal case. I don't have a brief to outline for you. I'm struggling to understand the 'why' myself. But I'd like to tell you howit felt." Olivia moved to run her hands over Fitz's shirt-clad chest a few times until she stopped at his monochrome amethyst tie with embossed paisley print. After loosening his tie, she started to undo the buttons on his shirt until his sculpted chest was exposed to her.

"I'm waiting." It was so hard to get Olivia to communicate her feelings to him unless she had been driven to an emotional cliff. He did not want her getting distracted with sex when they were supposed to be talking about...sex.

"Do you remember our conversation from a couple months ago, about role play?" Olivia intoned.

"How could I forget?"

Her fingers splayed, Olivia watched her manicured nails rake through the field of his chest hair. She stopped to gently circle the tips of her nails around his nipples. The skin puckered and she watched his chest begin to rise and fall noticeably.

"I love doing that to you, watching the effect that I have on your body. I don't know how to properly explain to you how intoxicating you are when you're this close to me."

"What?!"

Olivia painstakingly unbuttoned her jacket, not an easy feat considering the design was filled with tiny buttons holding the jacket closed, from her left shoulder down to her waist. She lay coquettishly on her side. Her plump lips pined for his closeness, her smile coy and cute. He moved to lay face to face with her, unable to resist her in that mode.

It had been just over three months since she told him how much she loved it when he adopted a dominant persona during their sexy-times. It made her feel free, safe, treasured. More than anything, it drove her out of her fucking mind in the most delicious way possible. Her strength, resilience and leadership were qualities to which Fitz had been attracted from the start. But with Olivia's confession, he reluctantly admitted that it made him hard when she teased him, especially when she demurred with innocence. He had worried she would think him perverse for encouraging that side of her. He was wrong.

"You see, you love it when I perform this coquettish routine for you. You get off on watching me obey your orders."

"Because now I know you like to take them."

"I do. It makes me wet for you."

"That's distracting."

"What?" She paused. "Wet?'" she teased with enunciation.

"Olivia." Fitz said firmly.

"Yes, Mr. President?"

"I mean it." He could barely keep a straight face. "Come on, we were getting somewhere."

"Ok, but it's your fault. You can't control yourself." Fitz tapped her playfully on the behind.

"Ooh, now who's starting something," she gasped. "See, Fitz, putting your hand on my throat is hardly any different than you giving me a spanking."

"Umm... I beg to differ. Besides we've talked about the spanking. I know exactly how you feel about it. It's not as if I've taken you over my knee with a paddle" Fitz looked at the curiosity in Olivia's eyes before continuing. "...Yet. We talked about me spanking you while I'm inside you."

"Well you were inside me when I put your hand on my neck." She placed her finger to Fitz's lips, hushing any rebuttal. "Let me finish. Arousal is a mysterious thing. I feel like I'm finally experiencing a sexual awakening. It's coming at the right time because you're here. I never felt this way with the men I dated before you. Not even with Edison." She slipped her leg over his. "Fitz, there are times that I want to feel like my pleasure is completely owned by you. That it belongs to you. That my every feeling is controled by a look on your face; a touch; a dirty word in my ear. You provoke me, and, sometimes, that makes me want to flirt with danger. I court it because, ultimately, I know I'm safe. You would never hurt me. And that, my love, is sexy." A memory from last night caused a shiver to run through Olivia. "Last night was...electric. It's like my body went into shock when I came. It's partly psychological, I'm sure." Fitz used his thumb to caress the tiny prickles that surfaced on her arm.

"It's not just psychological—what you felt last night. It's physiological, too. From what I've read, the depletion of oxygen helps people achieve a more intense orgasm."

"That it did."

"I felt it."

"When I held your hand over my throat, did it turn you on? Be honest with me."

"Honestly, Liv, I didn't know what was happening. I was so consumed by you. Suddenly my hand was somewhere it usually isn't. And then you were holding it there. At first I was afraid—"

"You were petrified. You kept thinking could you live without me by—"

Fitz began to tickle her rib cage and she squealed. "You will do anything to keep from being serious."

"Ok! White flag!" By that point Fitz had straddled Olivia, her arms trapped by her sides, between Fitz's legs. He discarded his opened shirt.

"The image of my hand around your neck confused and frightened me. Your eyes got really hooded. But you kept massaging your clit, and you were still breathing so I knew you couldn't have been in distress. You couldn't see this, but the look that came over your face just as your orgasm took hold of you..." The memory manifested in Fitz's face, exclaiming his point. "My God, that look and the way your pussy gripped me..." Fitz felt a familiar stir in his pants.

Olivia's eyes traveled from the growing protrusion in Fitz's pants up to his eyes. "So you didn't hate it."

"I didn't say I did. I said I was confused and frightened. You fell asleep like an old man afterward, leaving me to ponder all this. Alone."

"I didn't know what to tell you at the time. I hadn't thought about it myself. It seemed an awkward time for analysis. I pretended to be asleep for hours until my cramps came on too strong, and I had to get up and deal with that. By that point, a new worry had taken over. What happened before no longer seemed important." She beckoned him with her head to come lay beside her. She reached out to sweep her thumb over his mouth as she looked at him softly. He covered her hand with his.

"I'm sorry if I scared you. I just...I followed a feeling." She paused before continuing in earnest. "Fitz, I want to try all kinds of scary things with you. I trust no one above you. "

Fitz took her hand and began kissing the tips of each of her fingers before bringing her body flush with his. He rubbed his nose against hers and softly said, "Livvie, I'm here for all of it. Just... put me in the picture first."

She kissed the velvety softness of his lips while running her hand up and down his back.

"Take a bath with me. You can sit in front this time, and I'll take care of you. You can tell me what you'd like for us to try."

Olivia lay behind Fitz, one hand running a sponge over his chest as the other cradled his head against her bosom. "Thank you for the gardenias."

"I had to congratulate you on your win, which I called by the way." Olivia playfully rolled her eyes. "Besides, after your very long, very hot shower this morning, the hyacinths looked rather sad and dejected. And they were purple, so they had to go."

"What is your beef with lilac hyacinths?"

"They bring sorrow. Just the purple ones. Gardenias say you are lovely and amazing."

"I don't need a flower to tell me that. That's why I have you."

"You don't need me for that either."

"I don't. But you're so damn irresistible, I keep you around anyway." The room stilled until soon there was nothing but their breathing and the sound of the water dropping back into itself as Olivia navigated the sponge around Fitz's body."

"Livvie, last night—where did that idea come from?"

"Congressman Shaw's sex tape."

"The Senator from Rhode Island?"

"The great state of Rhode Island. Have some respect. Yes, that guy. He and his lady friend were getting kind of kinky on that desk. Abby watched it four times, which, for her, isn't so surprising, but she was practically in rapture over it." A wry smile graced her face. "I thought it warranted an extended viewing."

Fitz began massaging the inside of Olivia's knees, which were now peeking above the water to better accommodate Fitz's body. "So you've been waiting for a long time to try that move."

"'Honey, I'd like you to choke me as I near orgasm,'" Olivia said in a mockingly chirpy voice. "How do you bring that up delicately? It just felt right to go for it last night. It felt both thrilling and safe, if that makes sense."

Fitz nodded. It all made complete sense to him now.

"You can't tell me that there aren't things you want to try, too," Olivia probed. "It's your turn, remember?" She said as she kissed the top of his right ear. Fitz waited several beats before responding.

"I would very much like to tie you to the door while I make you come over and over again."

A/N: It only took three months, but I'm back! I have a few more episodes I would like to write. Please don't expect this tale to be told in a linear format. We will get to know our lovely couple through flashbacks (before 'Royals') in addition to moving forward. We'll see where my muse takes me. Anyway, I would love to know what you think. This is a very adult chapter, but that's the story I'm writing. If you don't understand something, or take issue, I'm open. Thanks for reading, and please review :o).