Sweat drips down his neck.

Uncomfortable, Fitz adjusts the collar of his button-up, somehow trying to get his breathing under control. After doing this for four months now, he shouldn't be so nervous. Yet, every time he gets a call from her, his entire body becomes erratic.

Today, as soon as he hung up the phone, he popped into the bathroom for a quick shower, put on some fresh clothes, and got in the car.

She doesn't appreciate waiting for him.

It doesn't matter that it's a beautiful evening, early fall, his favorite time of the year. He's already breaking a sweat as he makes a left turn.

The last time he had heard from her was two weeks ago. In the meantime, he'd spent his hours pretending to work and convincing himself that he would ignore her texts if they ever came, he wouldn't pick up the phone if she deigned to call.

Except that like many times before, when Olivia's name popped up on the phone, he picked up on the first ring.

Indulging the fantasies of making her wait for him doesn't hold the same appeal in reality. The sound of her voice instantly brings him back to their usual rhythm and all memory of wanting to escape her fades away. All she has to do is ask and whatever it is he'll do it for her.

There is no pattern, she's too busy to keep their encounters constant. So, he works anxiety-ridden, and on edge every time the phone vibrates. Sometimes her requests are pictures or videos of him, others he has to describe in detail what he would like to do to her. The best days are when she asks him to come over. Like today.

Often, in the silence and darkness of his own apartment, still reeling from the feeling of being with her, in person or not, the pain would set in. The situation is clear. He's being used, he's well aware of that. Nevertheless, the option to give it all up is more agonizing than being her plaything.

Maybe if he wasn't so transparent, if he could control the way he looks at her or hide the devotion present in each touch, then she wouldn't know. He inadvertently gave her the power to do whatever she wanted to him. His love too obvious. One day he'll have the willpower to leave. For now, he drives towards her.

He should regret falling for someone so emotionally unavailable. Yet, the ache in his heart soothes every time they're together. The rush of adrenaline when he makes her smile or moan. The small things make it all worth the price. His whole being has been rewired ever since she came into his life.

Meeting her would have been uneventful had fate decided otherwise. Yes, she was beautiful, but he saw other women as stunning as her daily. Women who would give him the time of day without making him feel like he had to beg for it.

Looking back, he knew he didn't stand a chance the moment she opened her mouth. Too smart, too sure of herself, and not at all intimidated by the power of his position.

Some men on the board of directors had worked with Olivia before and recommended her to work on the image of the company when the scandal of his father's affair blew up. It took a couple of weeks, but the work had been immaculate.

He'd been so scared approaching her before she left. Still, the idea of never seeing her again was enough to make him move. If only he knew back then how that choice would bring him here, the grip she would come to have on him. As their relationship intensified, his every instinct told him to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, for once in his life, he chose to throw caution to the wind.

Which brings him here. Leaving his bed at 2 a.m. on a Tuesday, getting in the car because she asked him to.

He curses himself, it's always the same. They see each other, she might let him fuck her, or she may not. The only certainty is his wish for these nights to never end.

Things would be easier if he understood her, an impossible task given that, unless she's telling him to go faster or harder, she doesn't talk. Keeping her emotions at bay, there are only looks he can't quite read and long silences. Despite that, when the night comes, and she asks for him, he races to her, taking anything she might give him.

Fitz reasons that it doesn't matter that she doesn't communicate how she feels. She got him a parking spot in her building, and she doesn't look as annoyed while he takes his time cleaning himself up before leaving. Small steps, he tells himself, as he parks.

The door's already open when he gets there. She stands by the door looking at him, only moving to let him walk through. She remains silent and only points towards the couch in her living room. She's wearing a black backless pantsuit, perfectly tailored.

Fitz comes in and gives her a solemn nod, walking in the direction ordered. He sits on the couch, looks straight ahead at the wall, and waits for her. His eyes are far away from her face until she permits him to do otherwise.

"Did I tell you to sit?"

She doesn't sound angry, yet the question brings shivers down his spine. He's barely arrived, and he has already disappointed her.

Standing up quickly his gaze shifts to the floor. He doesn't dare to watch her walk toward him. With each step, the sound of her heels echoes around the apartment. He bites his lip, tries to ground himself, and control the shake of his hands.

Olivia stops right in front of him. Even in heels, he's much taller than she, but that doesn't matter, he knows he's powerless here, he's relinquished it all to her.

She strokes his cheek tenderly with the back of her hand, and he closes his eyes, excitement spreading all over him at the unexpected warmth.

The moment is over far too fast for his liking as she moves to grab his jaw with a strong grip.

"You don't do anything unless I tell you to."

"I'm sorr-" Her grip tightens. "Yes," he recovers.

"Sit."

She watches him move. His breathing is obviously uneven, more on edge than usual. He looks up at her, both hands resting on his sides, waiting for instructions. Completely still, not daring to do anything, until she explicitly tells him to.

"Are you nervous, baby?" Amusement clear in her eyes.

He nods his head yes.

"Take your shirt off." He starts unbuttoning. "And look at me," she adds.

He eases a little, now he's in more known territory. His movements are slow and never once he dares to break eye contact. He knows how much she enjoys watching him, so he takes his time, enraptured by the attention.

The unhurried pace minimizes the inconvenience of the shaking of his hands. Keeping his gaze on her the entire time, when he gets to the third button he slips his left hand through his shirt, touching his nipple. It's a risk, but when a smile spreads across her face a rush of happiness goes through him. He's been good.

He tries not to push his luck, so he slips his hand out and continues unbuttoning. When the last one is undone he throws his shirt to the side. The stillness of the room as she watches him makes his heart pound. Olivia doesn't talk much about it, but her eagerness, while she watches him, is clear. It feels like she can stare for hours, drowning in the desire in his eyes, relishing the power she holds over him and in the knowledge of the impact she has on him. In the beginning, there were times he'd come over just so she could watch him and touch herself.

There's something else in her eyes today though. He can see how glazed they look as she lingers on every part of him.

She walks over to him and stands between his legs, "You don't look so good today." She sits on his lap and wraps her legs around him in a straddle. "What happened?"

He closes his eyes, taking in the proximity of her body, "Missed this. Missed you."

She lowers down to kiss him, focusing on his lower lip first, then slowly deepening the kiss. Slow, languid.

Breaking away from the kiss, she caresses his hair, "You're so good to me aren't you?"

Fitz feels his whole body stiffen. If he didn't know any better he might read too much into the remark. But he knows she can feel the reaction it has on his body, how his mouth drops slightly open, how his jeans seem to become increasingly uncomfortable.

Right now Olivia could've asked for anything and everything, and she knows he would make way for it. It was sweet really, how the smallest compliment would have him on the palm of her hand.

His eyes are different today though, there's a vulnerability that wasn't there the last time they were together. She takes in the sight of him, and she makes up a new approach. Smiling to herself Olivia begins.

"You do know that I like you right?" she asks, detangling herself from him and taking a step back. All while ignoring how he leans forward, trying to keep her close.

"Livvie."

"Sit back," she orders.

He takes a while to fully process the command. His brain stuck in the admission that she cares about him.

"Fitz."

"Sorry, I– sorry." He does as instructed.

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes"

"Do you need anything?"

"No."

"Ok." She moves to the side, grabs her favorite armchair, and positions it a few inches in front of Fitz, so she can sit down and face him, only a coffee table separating them.

"Here is what's going to happen. I'm going to sit here and I'm going to tell you some things I like about you."

He's sure he must look like an overeager teenager. Of all the things he had hoped for tonight, not even in his wildest dreams he would've imagined this. She pays attention to him. Not only that, there's a list of things she likes about him. Fitz attempts to get his breath under control, trying to get a hold of his emotions and making sure he'll pay attention to her every word and remember everything.

Olivia removes her shoes and sets them to the side, getting comfortable in her own seat. This wasn't at all what she had planned for him today, but she can read a room. He seems positively ecstatic to listen to her talk about him. He's been so good to her lately. The least she can do is make this good.

"First, I want you to unbuckle your belt and give it to me."

Olivia extends her hand to take it and Fitz takes the opportunity to brush his fingers against hers, seeking any physical contact.

"Do you mind if I keep this?"

"No," his reply is almost a whisper.

Olivia sets the belt to her side and proceeds with her orders, "Now, unbutton your jeans. When I start making my way through each thing I like about you, you're going to start touching yourself. If you stop stroking I'll stop, if you go too fast I'll stop and if you cum I'll also stop. Understood?"

"Yes."

The yearning in his eyes is so obvious and so tempting. Reaching out to him would feel so good, but Olivia knows he'll enjoy it more if she drags this out, so she waits. Taking the sight in front of her with hunger in her eyes she starts, "I like your hands, big and gentle."

And just like that, he starts stroking himself.

"I like your chest, I like dragging my hands through it. I like your arms. I like how lifting and taking me to the nearest surface you can find is always your priority," she smiles at that. "I like your hair. It's actually one of my favorite things."

He adds some extra pressure and lets out a moan at that.

"I like your eyes, the color, but especially how you look when you start begging."

Fitz chuckles. She always looks pleased whenever he feels out of control.

"I like how you always walk into my apartment with a spring in your step as if there's nowhere else you'd rather be. I like how greedy you are whenever I let you taste me."

His pace grows faster as he recalls the way she grabs his hair when he's on his knees.

"Slower and this is your only warning. If you do it again, I'm kicking you out."

She waits until his pace has slowed down before starting over, "I like your voice. I like it when you moan. I like how happy you look if I'm tender to you. It doesn't matter if it's when I'm riding you and stop to caress your face or you're already on your way out and I brush my hand against yours. I like your thighs. I like your chest. I like how your whole body vibrates when I touch you. I like how you're vocal when we have sex."

Olivia stops momentarily, tilts her head to the side, and looks at him. She keeps her face blank, but he looks so handsome, seeking her attention and approval so badly. She can't help, having a soft spot for him. He's been so attentive, so worried about making her feel good. The least she can do is return the favor in the way she can.

"I like how you're always happy to hear from me, how much you trust me. I like how you feel inside my mouth and I like how you feel inside me. I like it when you look just like this," she points at him, "struggling to control yourself, fighting to keep your eyes open and looking at me even when every part of you is begging for release."

Taking a good look at him, she finally says, "Let it go."

And he cums on command.

She watches him as he extends his orgasm for as long as he can and when he's done, she stands up, grabs a box of tissues, and hands it to him.

"It's late. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I'll be in bed."

Fitz freezes, tissues still in his hand, his mind going through a frenzy. He hadn't expected anything that happened tonight. Two weeks without a text or a call from her and then this…. She's openly talking about liking him.

He can't help the smile that spreads across his face. The first time he was here she barely looked at him, only ordered him to get on his knees and fuck her senseless with his mouth. It was delicious, and he lost track of how long he ate her out, but as soon as she was done with him she simply grabbed his hair, removed him from between her thighs, and ordered him to leave. That day he didn't even get to take his shirt off.

Slowly she'd been allowing more contact and he accepted whatever he could get. Today feels different though. Maybe it's about doing what she thought would get him off faster and harder, but he knows she doesn't care about that. Maybe she feels it too, even if she won't admit it. It might not be the feeling of eagerness and wish to please or to be close to him at all times, but perhaps she enjoys his company.

He isn't just a toy to her. Fitz smiles to himself when he finishes cleaning up, she pays attention to him.

From the moment he met her, it's been clear how smart she is. Later he found out how skilled she is at reading people, at reading him, his wants and needs. It's been slower for him. He already knows how to fuck her the way she likes, but the ability to tell what she's feeling or thinking by the look on her face is a task he can only hope to achieve.

Maybe one day she will let him know how to read and take care of her too.

Now, Fitz takes the opportunity she's given and walks with caution inside her room, scared to make the wrong move and scare her off.

"Just get in here," she rolls her eyes, clearly not enjoying any of his current behavior.

He climbs into bed wearing only his boxer briefs, and he covers himself with some of her blankets.

Since she didn't say anything about wanting him near, he keeps a considerable distance between their bodies.

Three months, and he'd never been allowed to sleep in here, always kicked out before he could even think about falling asleep. The one day when she'd ordered him to drink some wine she got a car to get him home.

Given how unprecedented tonight is, Fitz isn't sure what to feel or how to react to the opening she's given tonight, so he takes in her smell and the opportunity to be close to her. The idea of getting to cuddle her is too greedy and delusional, so instead Fitz thinks back to the list of things she likes about him and relaxes until sleep comes.

Olivia opens her eyes, and he's right next to her, his body all wrapped up in blankets. He looks so peaceful sleeping beside her as if there is nowhere he'd rather be.

She takes the opportunity to gently run her hand through his hair. He's so sweet to her and earlier today he had seemed so melancholic. The rush it gave her to praise him, giving small doses of what she knew he wanted, had been more satisfying than she cared to admit. She needs to find a better balance in how she deals with him before he gets any ideas that she doesn't care for him or, worse, thinks about leaving.

Looking at him only through the moonlight he looks breathtakingly beautiful. And just like that, she wants him. Yet, she doesn't move. Just like earlier tonight, if she opens herself up to him now, there's no way he wouldn't see it in her eyes.

She ignores the ache between her legs and turns to face the wall.

When Fitz awakes Olivia is gone.

He gets out of bed and retrieves his clothing, neatly folded on the armchair near Olivia's dresser.

As he makes his way out of the room, he smells coffee coming from the kitchen. She already let him sleep here, she probably wouldn't appreciate it if he left without a word. Besides, it would be rude, or whatever excuse he needs to see her.

"Good morning," Fitz says, walking into the kitchen.

Olivia stands leaning on the counter, fully dressed in cream pants and a trench coat. She scrolls through her phone with a mug in her hand.

"Good morning," she sets both her mug and the phone aside and pulls a cabinet open, grabs a black mug, and hands it to Fitz, "I made coffee."

"Thank you," he reaches for the mug and pours himself a generous portion.

She's back on her phone, so he retreats to a corner, observing her from afar. He drinks in silence. The coffee is stronger than he's used to, but it's not bad.

Halfway through his mug, Olivia breaks the silence. "I have work. Lock the door on your way out, and don't touch anything," and just like that she grabs her purse and walks out her door.

Fitz finishes his coffee, washes the mug, puts it back where he saw Olivia get it from, and makes his way out of her apartment.

His morning stay might not have lasted ten minutes, but she trusted him enough to leave him alone in her home. Walking to his car he makes no effort to contain the smile on his face.

A/N: I finally have time to write again and this is my way of trying to free myself from writer's block so I can get back to never break the chain.

A/N 2: I don't think any of you will be familiar with it, but this was inspired by a song called "Você me vira a cabeça (me tira do sério)" by Alcione. I missed you guys and comments and feedback mean a lot :))