AN: Mature content. 18+
Monday morning
8:28 a.m.
Come back.
No.
.
Why?
Please? What if I beg? Cyrus is up my ass about the
spending bill, I've had a headache all morning,
and I want to have lunch with you.
I'm busy.
I'm the President.
I'm Olivia Pope.
.
Fine. See you in a few hours.
9:12 a.m.
I can't believe Senator Robbins is
being such a dick.
I know…
Anything I can do to help?
9:55 a.m.
Do you have my eletriptan prescription
in your bag still?
No, I put it on your nightstand before I left.
.
That bad today?
Yeah. I'll send someone for it.
Thanks. Love u
10:27 a.m.
Any better?
Much. Hate those migraines so much…
I know you do. Wish I could make it better!
Can't wait to see you… Miss you
too much.
You can't possibly miss me yet.
I was in your bed less than 5 hours ago.
.
You haven't forgotten that yet, have you? I
thought we had a pretty good morning…
Hmm… nope. No memory of that.
Might need you to remind me…
Shut up. You're working.
You started it! ;)
11:17 a.m.
Remind me why I went to work today?
I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I wish
I had stayed in bed.
.
Preferably with you… Been thinking about you
a lot this morning. Texting you makes me
miss you even more.
.
God. You wanna take a bath tonight?
.
My back is sore from that position last night.
Ugh felt so good in the moment though.
11:31 a.m.
*Attachment: 1 image*
*Attachment: 1 image*
Took these this morning after you left.
Olivia…
Yes, Fitz?
Quit it! I have a meeting with the
joint chiefs in 5 minutes.
Well sounds like you'll have to control
yourself then… I however am all alone in
the office and free to think about all of
the terribly debauched things I want to
do to you. Where do you want me to start?
You know what I want to do?
NOT reading these. Behave yourself.
I wanna get on my knees. Under your
desk maybe? I can't believe we've never
done that. I'd settle for against the wall too.
.
Need you to pin me down. Make me take it.
.
I want you in my mouth so fucking badly.
.
What is it that you say? I guess I'm in a giving
mood. Fuck, I need you right now. I'm so horny
I might not make it until lunch.
.
*Attachment: 1 image*
Can you see how wet I am for you?
God, getting you every day is making me insatiable.
She's being deliberately wicked, teasing him like this, but something about the way they have spent so much time together in the past few weeks after years of waiting and wanting and hoping and failing and trying again… They've made it here. Sharing precious time, meals, a bathroom sink, and a single drawer that she refuses to acknowledge she now has in his closet. They've made to this place that they have yearned for, and she cannot help but bask in the giddy feeling she has texting him during the day, knowing she can see him later. She will see him later.
Olivia Pope is not one to be giddy, yet she finds herself grinning and giggling while she sends him pictures of the lacy, white undergarments she has on today, the picture she took of herself in the mirror—his mirror—in the Residence this morning with glowing skin on display, hips slightly twisted to the side, and hair loosely pulled back as she finished her makeup. She felt pretty, and in the afterglow of their morning fuck in his lavish bed…and then a second round in the shower…she felt high on their love and how incredibly sexy he makes her feel, so—so unlike herself—she snapped a few pictures.
She wished she could say they were for herself, for her to remind herself of her power and beauty. But no. She didn't take those pictures this morning for herself. She took them for him.
And so, she feels giddy and in love and like she was made to love Fitz forever. In this overjoyed, teenage type of way. And maybe she is naïve in thinking that they can do stuff like this—really…sexting him during a defense briefing, what was she thinking?—but she can't even dwell on it too much now, because she's passing Lauren's desk, smiling politely as she's given the 'okay' to go in, and opening the door to the Oval Office, and then she's here. With him.
Fitz immediately looks up from the document he's reading when he hears the door open and meets her gaze softly. He's smiling almost stupidly at her. It's sneaky, full of tease with a mix of surprise and fondness at her antics this morning.
"Hi you," he says, putting his paper back into the correct folder and throwing it neatly onto the corner of the desk.
She's already shut the door behind her, leaning back against it. "Hi," she replies through an equally ridiculous smile.
"I don't even know what to say to you," he laughs. He's shaking his head as he stands to walk across the office and close the distance between them. "You are something else, Olivia Pope."
"Hmm… I have no idea what you could possibly mean!"
"Oh you don't? Here, let me show you." He's pulling his phone, their phone, from his jacket pocket and scrolling across the screen. "You know what I want to do? I wanna get on…"
She gasps at the fact he's reading her words out loud, and while she's far from a prude, it shocks her to hear the words. "Ah that! Yes, well…"
He chuckles at her flushing cheeks, crowding her up against the door. "Yes, well' what? Don't tell me you're bold enough to send me a picture of your fingers knuckle-deep, fucking your own pussy at work but not brave enough to follow through with what you taunted. By the way… rude… sending me all of that and please definitely do it again."
His hands come up to cradle her face, thumb tracing along her bottom lip and wiping her smirk away. He pulls her close and finally closes the distance between them to fit their lips sweetly and softly together, a stark contrast to their filthy banter this morning. He kisses her, and she lets herself be kissed like she's been waiting for this moment since he last said good-bye.
Her fingers tangle in the curls at the base of his neck and pull just hard enough to make him gasp, opening his mouth to her. She brushes her tongue along his while arching her back and rolling her hips into him. She's been simmering all morning, sticky wetness still clinging to her panties, frustrated from the constant state of arousal she's been in, and now she's boiling with the heat his body awakes in her.
"Someone's impatient…" Fitz huffs into her mouth, skimming his hands down her neck, over her shoulders, and down to her waist. His fingers squeeze at her hips lightly before trailing further down to teasingly grab her ass.
Her hips shift back appreciatively into his grasp as she moans deeply. "Mmm-hmm 'm horny… I want you…"
His lips leave hers, pecking along her jaw to her pulse point where he sucks and laves warm, wet kisses. The feeling is incredible, and it's everything that Olivia wants. She voices her approval with a loud whimper as her head knocks loudly back against the door behind her. Almost simultaneously, they realize how close they are to the door and how close that door is to other, unsuspecting listeners.
They lock eyes and can't help but grin at their combined loss of anxiety over getting caught. Their relationship is far from public now, but there is an air of domesticity, of Olivia knowing the names of the WH executive chefs and a handful of the ushers and the two Secret Service agents that have been unofficially-officially assigned to her detail, that makes them forget at times that they still do need to show at least some discretion.
"I would still like to be able to make eye contact with Lauren after you leave, ma'am. Mind keeping it down?" Fitz breathes against her ear, already pulling her away from the door and turning them around.
"Oops," Liv laughs wholeheartedly against his neck as he continues walking her backward further into the office. "Where are you taking me, mister?"
"I seem to remember some earlier talk about a certain desk you were interested in…"
He's nipping and sucking at her earlobe, as she registers the feeling of said desk at the backs of her thighs, her previous fantasies in full replay in her head now. "God, yes."
"What do you want, Livvie?"
His lips are distracting her. He's pulled the neck of her blouse to the side now so he can bite and kiss along her collarbone, subsequently popping open the top two buttons, and it's making her forget that she wanted to be in control. She wanted to be asking him what he wanted and making him breathless, making him moan inappropriately loud, making him weak-kneed. So instead of answering him, she pushes him back, pulls him around the edge of the desk, and shoves him down into his leather chair.
"I hate you," she laughs, shaking her head at his incredulous look, bewildered that he's somehow in his chair now. "You make me so fucking crazy. What do I want? I want you… to sit right there… and let me make you feel good."
She's turned his chair now facing the desk so that she can lean back against its edge. Her fingers nimbly unbutton the remaining buttons of her shirt, exposing the white lace he already knows is hidden there. She leaves the shirt on, fully unbuttoned, where just the swells of her breasts and tight plane of her belly are visible, and the sight alone brings Fitz's attention to the throbbing hardness of his erection that had been waning for what feels like hours.
Olivia looks like a goddess. The sunlight from the adjacent windows lights her features beautifully. Her hands brace on the arms of the chair so she can tower over him, letting him smell her perfume and trace the top of the lace garment with his lips. She's in his ear now, breathing heavily, alternating between sucking and biting at his earlobe like he likes and whispering filthy nothings to him.
His hips shift restlessly in the chair, and she doesn't want to wait any longer. Her hand leaves its hold on the chair and trails so lightly, so delicately across his thigh until she's cupping him through his pants, applying pressure with the palm of her hand. His hips rock and buck up into her hand, and he has to grab her neck and pull her into a sloppy kiss to muffle the sounds he knows he would be making.
Too quickly, however, she's rolling his chair back slightly, making room for herself and smirking wickedly up at him as she makes herself comfortable on her knees on the plush blue carpet between his thighs. "You gonna let me suck you off?" Her hands are running continuously up and down his quads, nails digging into the thick muscles there, with every pass back and forth getting higher and higher up his thighs. "I'm mad you stopped me this morning in the shower. I was so ready, practically drooling and you fucking stopped me. You're too good to me—it's annoying. Fitz—"
She pauses to make sure he opens his eyes before she continues. "Are you listening?"
Fitz hums and nods his head, not trusting his voice in his current state.
"Good. Now ask me again… Ask me what I want," she presses, fingers already working on his belt, button, and zipper.
He clears his throat, watching her undress him as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "What—hm—what do you want, pretty girl?"
His breath completely catches at the intensity of her stare up at him from her position on the floor and her next words.
"I want you to fuck my throat."
The sound he makes next is one that he only makes when he's so far gone, so close to the edge already from her words alone. It's a mix between a deep groan and a lustful, dominant growl, and she has to bring a hand down to her own core and rock against her own palm because it makes her so hot.
"Fuck—you're not allowed to say shit like that," Fitz murmurs.
Liv hums as she finishes unzipping his trousers and dips her hand into his boxers, wrapping her hand gingerly around his length. After a single gentle stroke of her hand, he hisses, and her eyes dart up to catch his gaze again.
"Mr. President?"
His eyes flash and darken at her pleading tone, at the feeling of her pulling his cock out of his boxers, at her continued persistence of this role playing. It makes him feel bold and although she carries a lot of power in their relationship, he likes this game. The game where she pretends like his office, his title, his everything, can make her do whatever he wishes, even if a majority of the time, the opposite is true.
"Say it again."
Her eyelashes bat up at him—she's putting it on a bit. "Mr. President?"
As she jerks him slowly, her head moves to rest against his inner thigh so that she can alternate between looking at his face and his hard cock. Her hand glides along him, up and down, squeezing at the base and twisting slightly at the tip, and she watches eagerly as her thumb swipes through the bead of precum there, spreading the moisture around his head.
"Mmm, that's so good—yeah, like that," he moans. It doesn't take long before the fingers tracing gently along her features come to tangle in her loose curls. He knows she normally would object to this, but something about the energy she's brought this afternoon tells him that it's not only okay but what she wants him to do. "Such a good fucking girl."
His fingers twist themselves into her hair, pulling tightly—just on the verge of painful. It makes Olivia practically come undone, the deliberate pressure, the reminder of his dominance over her, the sign that she's already handed over the control to him.
So, she lets him use his grip on her head to pull her in even closer. Breaking their eye contact, she levels with his cock and leans in deliberately slowly to make him burn with anticipation. Though she usually cannot decide between a soft tease and an all-out eager 'back-of-her-throat' approach to start—both of them make him unravel in different ways—she knows how she wants today to go.
Her lips lower to his shaft, placing wet, sucking kisses along his length, up one side and then down the other, pausing briefly at the tip to dart her tongue out and taste him. She hums in satisfaction, especially as the hand in her hair tightens slightly and he groans deep within his chest.
"Are you gonna do what I want?" Liv asks coyly, continuing to move her lips on him.
Fitz grins and uses his grip to pull her head back, forcing her to look up at him again. "Is that what you really want, sweetheart? Me all the way in here?" He leans forward, his hand then trailing down to grasp lightly at her throat.
Her eyes close at the pressure of his fingers, and she hums in agreement.
"Yeah? You want me to make you take it? Gonna gag and choke on it, all for me?"
"Mmhmm…"
"Fucking gorgeous on your knees like this. I should just keep you here like this, huh? Keeping my cock warm all day long? You would love that, wouldn't you, my dirty little—nuh-uh ma'am," he quickly reprimands her as he watches her hand attempt to unbutton the fastener of her own dress pants. "You made it clear… This isn't for you, is it? Giving mood and all?"
Liv looks up at him, a bit shocked and taken aback. Granted, she did tell him that she wanted him to be more dominant in bed…She simply didn't expect for him to be taking to it so…enthusiastically? She quickly shakes her head when she notices his stern expression as he waits for an answer. "N-no… It's not."
He tuts at her response, clearly expecting more from her but not willing to divulge exactly what he wants. His eyebrows raise as he waits eagerly for her to correct herself.
"Um—it's not for me. It's for…for you. I want to make you feel good…"
He waits.
"Only you…sir."
He grins. "That's it. Good girl…" Fitz pauses briefly, and it's almost as if his affect has changed completely, the dominant side subsiding momentarily as he asks, "okay?"
As though she can't control it, Liv huffs out a laugh, full of her arousal and love for this man and how sheepish he somehow now looks. "Yes, mister. I'm loving it."
And without preamble, she shows him how much she loves this side of him, taking the head of his cock between her lips and sucking with the pressure she knows he loves. Her lips continue down halfway, her tongue stroking the underside of his length.
Her head bobs lightly in his lap for a few moments before she pulls off of him, grasping the base of his cock and delivering a few heavy smacks against the flat plane of her tongue. Then, she's back on him, pushing herself further than she normally does.
While her lips envelop him over and over, she starts to realize that she might actually need him to fuck her face if she wants to be able to satisfy him like she does because, right now, she cannot take anymore of him in her mouth. But god she wants to.
So, she takes his hand that has been gently caressing her arm since it left her throat and guides it back to its rightful place in her hair. Her movement causes him to pause and study her face, reading what she wants. Oh.
And the way she looks—hair tussled, cheeks flushed, eyes soft and begging, lips stretched around his cock—makes him weak and willing to do anything she asks him to. So, his fingers resume their grip, allowing him leverage to push her head down on him.
He tests her at first, only pushing down lightly, maybe half an inch more than she was taking herself. Slowly, he becomes bolder, quickening her pace at the same depth, the tip of his cock grazing the back of her throat lightly. She's breathing and remarkably under control.
His grip guides her for a few more strokes, until he realizes that this angle—him seated in the chair—isn't going to work for much longer. The look in her eyes tells him that she agrees and wordlessly, she pushes the leather chair back so that he can stand in its place.
And fuck. There is something about his stature from this angle that makes her writhe below him, wishing she had something to rock her aching core against. But before she can think too long about her own wishes, the look is back in his eye and, now, not only is he pushing her head onto his cock, but using his hips to push his cock into her throat.
He rocks his hips forward into the delicious, wet heat of her mouth and the grasp of her soft hand at the base of him, working whatever part she can't fit into her mouth, and he lets out a pleased "fuck" before picking up his pace once more. He thrusts twice in quick succession before yanking her back by her hair to allow her to take a gasping breath, which is quickly cut off as he bends down and kisses her, all teeth and tongue.
"Wanna try something?" Fitz mumbles into her lips, rolling a nipple between his fingers through the thin lace of her bra.
Why he talking, when she can hardly breathe, she doesn't know, but she's so caught up in the moment that she moans eagerly and nods her head.
Then, he's standing again, resuming his hold on her. "Take your hand off of me…"
She does so immediately, her chest heaving with anticipation.
"Now… put your hands behind your back. You can snap your fingers if you want me to stop at any time, yeah?"
"Mmhmm… Like this?" She asks, lacing her fingers together at the base of her spine.
"That's perfect, pretty girl. So perfect, fuck."
Her shirt opens wider with this positioning, her chest on full display, and he quickly pinches one of her nipples again, causing her to gasp in surprise. With her mouth agape, he pushes his cock back in and without her hand on him, he's shocked at the change of pressure and depth.
He's quick and rough now, fucking her throat earnestly, his balls hitting her chin with every thrust. He's never been rough with her like this—he's never let himself be this rough with her—and the way her hips are shifting, virtually humping the air, tells him all he needs to know.
He fucks her deliberately, and the combined sound of her slurping and gagging and the look of her watery, blissful eyes pushes him close to the edge. So, he pulls her off once again and takes his cock in his own hand to stroke slowly. Though Fitz does so to give her a break, immediately Liv leans back in, nuzzling and kissing his sac and the free space at the base of his cock, sucking one side and then the other into her mouth.
It clearly catches him off-guard and his hips fly toward the pressure and heat of her mouth. "Fuck, Liv. You're gonna make me come."
Her hands break their bind behind her and come up to knock his hands out of the way, taking him back in her mouth, working him with the rhythm of her hands and lips that he loves. She works fast—too fast—because she knows that normally he would never let her do this.
Fitz is usually too worried about her pleasure, her comfort, that over the eight years they have been fucking, he's never actually come in her mouth before. She figures she should be grateful, but now she's determined. She wants him to, and so she pulls off quickly and tells him just that.
He starts his usual huffing, shaking his head and trying to coax her away, but she is not having it today.
"Please, baby. Please, sir. I want it—please, goddammit, I want you to come down my throat," she begs and takes him deep again. This time, he has no choice. He's too close to the edge and his resolve is paper-thin and now that he's here, he's really not sure why he's stopped her all of those times before.
His hips stutter and thrust once more before he is seeping across her tongue. Liv breathes deeply through her nose, taking each spurt he gives her. She wants him to see how much she loves it, so instead of swallowing right away, she catches his eye and opens her mouth, sticking her tongue out to show him his cum pooled there.
He groans and watches as she closes her lips once again and her throat rises and falls, swallowing. Her hand continues to stroke him lightly until he's sated and oversensitive and falling back into his desk chair, boneless. He tucks himself back into his boxers quickly and reaches for her.
"Come here, love…" Fitz encourages, helping her up off of the floor and into his lap. They settle into a few passionate kisses, his tongue sweeping along hers, making a surprised noise when he recognizes the foreign taste he finds there. He knows she's horny still and though he can't bend her over the desk like he would want to, he trails his hand up her thigh to begin to reciprocate. However, before he can get too far, she stops him.
"Mm-mmm. That was for you," she explains.
"Olivia Pope turning down an orgasm? Well, I never…"
"Shut up, you. You can return the favor later…" she laughs. "I'll give you plenty of time to think up something good. In the meantime, we have…" She checks her watch. "22 minutes to eat lunch before I have to head back to the office anyway."
He grunts in annoyance but acquiesces. Then, he's staring at her, critically and with some amusement at her wild hair, mascara smudges below her eyes, and spit lingering at her chin. "Fine. But you might want to go…um—look in that mirror over there, and uh—tame yourself? You look like someone had their way with you..."
She chuckles along with him, hopping off of his lap and buttoning her shirt back up before turning back to look over her shoulder at him. "I like when a certain someone has their way with me…he should do it more often."
AN: Hope you enjoyed this little one-shot ;) Let me know what you think!
