Royals

" If I untie you—"

"When. When you untie me. Because we both know that you will...untie me."

Earlier that evening...

"No, no, 'fun gay', is what she called it," said James, correcting Cyrus's account of a colourful conversation they'd had with a woman weeks prior to this evening.

"Well, whatever she said, she didn't know what she was talking about. I'm so tired of these straight people thinking that being gay is one endless bacchanal. It's as if all we do is have orgies filled with poppers and 'shrooms." Cyrus chuckled as he took his last swig of vintage red wine. "Breeders!"

He angled his glass just as James was in the middle of turning around to re-fill said glass.

"Present company excluded, of course." Cyrus held up his now full glass to toast the beautiful couple in whose home they were gathered.

Olivia and Fitz were not nearly as tipsy as the couple who sat across from them. They were enjoying the show. It had been a while since they both saw James and Cyrus so...loose. The two exchanged knowing smiles.

"No offense taken," Olivia said, holding up her free hand, smiling brightly. The other hand busied itself crawling up and down Fitz's vertebrae, skimming the horizontal edge of his curls before diving into the thicket of his mane.

Fitz distracted himself from Olivia's ministrations. "Uhh, aren't you two the only breeders in this room?"

Olivia giggled, covering her nose "Where is Ella tonight, by the way? I'm surprised you two could so easily make this impromptu gathering."

"She's with her new nanny, Marta. Cy and I are being 'fun gay' tonight."

"As opposed to every other night," zinged Olivia.

"Livvie!"

"What? I'm simply making an observation."

Olivia loved teasing Fitz while they were in public, all the while appearing to be appropriately behaved. His scalp was her playground. Olivia raked her nude-colored fingernails against Fitz's scalp, spelling out the words fuck me with excruciating precision and agonizing reserve. Fitz tightened the hold he had on Olivia's prim waist, giving her a winning smile as he turned to her. The storm clouds of desire brewing behind his eyes forebode a warning and a promise.

Stop It. We're in public, look away, she coolly communicated with her eyes. She then looked to Cyrus and James to save herself from his gaze.

"You two aren't really on the 'scene' anymore. Are you?"

Cyrus considered her question before answering.

"We were never really on any scene exactly. The two of you have not been together as long, but..." Cyrus trailed off as he looked wistfully at James, who lightly patted Cyrus' knee to continue.

"We're actually more 'normal' than you would think. James, of course, was an absolute slut—"

"You watch your mouth, Cyrus Rutherford Beene! I just took a liberal approach to looking for my Mr. Right. Sue me, I'm a Democrat. Had I known Republican campaigns were teeming with repressed gays, I would have found you sooner."

"No you wouldn't, but I'm glad you did."

The two exchanged a chaste kiss.

"I spent my 'fun gay' years between the thighs of a woman. Thirty years looking at the same vulva and I never really figured out how that thing worked."

The beaver talk caught James, a gold star gay, by surprise. Before he could stop, an involuntary ruby shower sprayed Cyrus's oxford shirt in an instant. The Pope-Grants were seated on the ecru linen sofa while the Novak-Beenes were ensconced on the vintage, peacock blue, crushed velvet love seat. Luckily, the upholstery was saved, as Cyrus's shirt bore the brunt of James's liquid-filled outburst.

"Oh, look, honey, I created a Jackson Pollack!" James's body shook with laughter at the clever pattern.

Sensing another imminent accident, Fitz jumped up to retrieve James's wine glass from his hand.

Cyrus was snapped out of his buzz, frantically reaching for something with which to salvage his shirt. "Shit, James! This is the new Brooks Brothers one you bought me."

James was hysterical by this point, tears falling from the sides of his eyes.

"Cyrus, let me get you some club soda from the kitchen for that. It's best if—"

"No, no, Liv. This is one mess you don't need to clean up."

"Fine. I left a nearly full bottle alongside the Du Bellay. Right next to-"

"The bar."

Olivia nodded.

James recovered from his fit of laughter in time to chase Cyrus. "Honey, come, let me help you with that. It's my fault. You'll need to take your shirt off to fix this. Go to the bathroom. I'll be right there with the club soda. Liv, you have wash cloths in there, right?"

"Of course we do," Fitz shouted as James retreated.

Alone again for the first time in hours, Olivia chuckled softly against the rim of her wine glass.

It delighted every bone and every fleshy part of Fitz's body to see his wife smile, to hear her laughter. Every other utterance he could elicit from her would always come second to the pure joy her laughter brought.

"I know. They're in fine form tonight." Fitz chortled. "That image of Cyrus between a woman's legs—"

"Is burned on my brain," Olivia finished.

They both laughed to the point of sighing.

"I'm glad I put down my glass of Bowmore before Cyrus went on his vagina rant. Otherwise, my single malt would have been all over your chest, if not your neck and face, too."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time you sprayed something all over my face and neck," she smirked before turning to place her wine glass on the mahogany coffee table.

"Olivia..." he warned.

Olivia had her back to the end of the sofa, and stretched out her naked feet to place them in Fitz's lap. She tried to dig her toes between Fitz's upper thighs for warmth.

"What? My feet are getting cold. Don't you want to give me some of your heat, Fitz?"

Fitz stared down at her. The velvety cognac of her face was a celestial wonderland: the cheekbones of a goddess; the high forehead of a prima ballerina; eyes as bright as an innocent doe; and she had the most beautifully full pout he had ever seen. She had full control of its power, and used against him, like she was doing now.

Fitz removed her feet from his thighs, and in an instant he was between hers, hovering ever so close to her face. Olivia could smell the warm whiskey on his breath. Every part of him was mere millimetres from touching any part of her. She had never met a man whose very proximity was so intoxicating, so threatening to her constitution.

Fitz grabbed the wrist resting on Olivia's abdomen, pulling it up to join the one behind her head. He lowered his head so that only the tips of their noses were touching. Looking over the fineness of her features, he said, "Let me ask you something, Mrs. Grant..."

She closed her eyes and released a breath directly into Fitz's slightly opened mouth. "Anything, Mr. President." Her hips tilted up in search of the touch she craved.

She hadn't been playing fairly all night. The grazes to his scalp, the scratches on his neck, the caressing of his second most sensitive erogenous zone—his ears—so why hadn't he seen that phrase coming? He dipped his hips down slightly, still a whisper from pressing into her core. She shivered at his closeness.

"How come you have had the same glass of red wine all night, and it is still nearly full?"

Her eyes popped open. "Because...I have plans for you. For us. I want to make sure I am fully lucid to feel everything you're going to give me later tonight."

"That's big talk coming from such a small person."

"Oh? Mark my words: you will regret that later."

"I hate you."

"I hate you, too," Olivia returned.

Just as Olivia's tongue slipped between her lip for Fitz to capture, they heard voices down the hall. Olivia remained as she was. Fitz sat back, crossing his thighs away from Olivia and out of view from where Cyrus and James would be sure to sit.

"Am I brilliant, or what?!" an energized James declared. He was carrying Cyrus's now damp shirt in triumph, holding it up like those scantily clad women at boxing matches who hold up the numbers announcing each round.

Cyrus let out a pregnant sigh of satisfaction. "There's no doubt about it, sweetheart."

"Look at that! You can stop sweating now, Cy. Not a trace of Du Bellay on you. It's official, James: you are brilliant," Fitz offered.

"Indeed." Olivia quietly observed the parents of her only Godchild. James seemed to suddenly be in a hurry while Cyrus was the picture of casual vacancy, a stupid closed mouth grin on his face.

James was already motioning to get their belongings. "Cy will you check the front window, please?" I instructed the driver not to honk his horn when he arrives. Not in this neighborhood. I don't want the neighbors accusing them of noise pollution in the morning."

With faux indignation, Olivia replied, "Are you calling us snobs?"

James patted down his jacket and jeans looking for his wallet. "Oh, honey, I wish I were. Instead of being in Georgetown, with us, you're here in Takoma Park with all these crunchy, well-to-do lesbians, organic farmers markets, and oversized wrap-around porches. Do I need to remind you that this is a hairsbreadth from Maryland? Mar-y-land!" he scoffed.

Olivia could do nothing but double over in laughter, nearly falling off her own sofa. It had been a year since the move, and James still refused to let it go.

Fitz stood up. "What a shame. We were going to ruin you over a game of Scrabble. Cy, you can't go home like that in that old man t-shirt. We'll dry your shirt. I'll get you one of my pullovers."

Guarding the window, the car's headlights swept briefly across the glass, illuminating Cyrus's reflection. He could see that his forehead indeed percolated with sweat, and his cheeks appeared slightly dewy and youthful. He casually wiped his brow as he turned to Fitz.

"No need, my friend. We're already gone." Cyrus quickly opened the door to waive a hand to the driver before turning to collect James.

"Keys, wallet, phone, jackets. Ok, we're good, kiddos" James said as he gave his surroundings a once-over glance. "Let's do it again, soon!"

"Did Cy seem suddenly distant to you?" Fitz wondered aloud as he and Olivia moved between the lounge and the kitchen, clearing the evidence of their couples evening.

She placed the cheese board back in the refrigerator before turning to Fitz. Shaking her head as she approached him, Olivia wrapped her small arms around his torso. "Fitz? I love you, but you are really naive." She craned her neck to look into this eyes. "It's cute. Most of the time."

He gave her a light slap on the behind and she squealed. Before she could wiggle out of his embrace, he brought both hands down to her ass to lift her. Her legs did what they always did, finding their rightful place around his waist. Fitz groaned and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.

"Whatever do you mean, Mrs. Grant?"

Her core was tantalizingly close to what had been prominent in her mind for most of the evening. Fitz dug his fingers into Olivia's ass a little deeper, forcing her to feel how primed he was to take her.

"Do you think it takes thirty-minutes to clean red wine from a shirt? Cyrus got a blow job. I think you're very familiar with those, mister."

"First, Cyrus mentions staring at vaginas. Then you mention me, Cyrus and 'blow job' in the same breath. Too close. He's like my uncle. Can we just...not?"

She chuckled lowly into his ear before placing a kiss just below his earlobe. "But you like both those activities."

"Obviously, but only when they specifically concern you and me."

"Well, Mr. President, I do have a number of concerns that require your attention. That is, if you're willing to take that meeting." Her hands roamed in his unruly tendrils.

Not having properly kissed her in hours, Fitz hurried for Olivia's lips as he backed her up against the wall. Their tongues began wantonly plundering the booty of one other's mouths. Fitz pressed himself further into Olivia's body as she dug her feet into the top of his firm ass. She wound her hips desperately against the bottom of his torso. Feeling his dick swell against the partition of her cheeks, Olivia grew hot and slick with her own arousal. The scent of her heat aroused Fitz like nothing else. He brought his hand to the button on her trousers, eager to decant her aroma.

"Is making you come against this wall one of your concerns this evening? Because I can cross that off your agenda." He breathed against her swollen mouth.

"Fitz..." she breathed back, pushing softly at his chest. She squeezed her eyes shut to guard against losing control for what was to come next.

"I'm going to get ready. In twenty minutes, I want you naked and waiting for me downstairs. Literally, the only thing you should be wearing is your wedding band."

Fitz arched his brow in interest. Downstairs? These concerns are serious. He licked his lips before smirking, earning a thirsty growl laced with a chuckle from Olivia.

"Can't wait."

Fitz was certain Olivia was late, but had no way of telling just how late. Clocks and phones were barred from their adult playroom. They had been exploring their kinkier side for less than a year, nearly four years into their marriage. Their demanding schedules ensured that the room remained a rare treat for them. Their room reflected what true neophytes they were, compared to some of the wild set-ups they had seen on the Internet. Their most elaborate purchase: a small, four poster bondage bed with lots of metal hooks in the frame for securing restraints was the exception. A medium sized ottoman at the foot of the bed held a small collection of toys and kinkster sundries, much of it unused so far. This wasn't a sex dungeon, so much as a playroom for exploration. Fitz and Olivia were enamored with the psychological sense of control and power of bondage rather than with the elaborate equipment.

Three tall wall mirrors, a Kashmiri rug, an armless leather chair and a hanging rack for whips, crops and paddles decorated the otherwise sparse room. Olivia recently draped large Pashmina shawls over the top of the bed's canopy and added an indecent amount of candles to the space. Every one of them vanilla. Fitz lit them all, making the space warm and inviting for Olivia's arrival.

A titillating vision, she appeared in the room and quickly closed the door. Fitz took in the sight of her get-up from bottom to top as he eye fucked her. The shoes were familiar: black patent leather with the impossibly skinny heel that closed their 10-inch height gap to just five. Black nylon stockings attached to a black lace garter, complimented the ruched material of which her bra was made. It tied in a little satin bow at the back of her neck. He'd wager that the bra matched the panties, which he could not see. They were obscured by something that amused and aroused him: a pleated, burgundy leather skirt so short, it left half of her ass exposed. Cute, Fitz thought as he absentmindedly licked his lips, but it's definitely the first to go.

" Do I need to remind you of who's in charge tonight?," Olivia could see he was clearly plotting how to denude her.

"I'm just taking you in. Is that wrong?" he tried to save.

Olivia tried hard to resist being melted by him so early into their playtime. Having a naked Fitz at her complete disposal was an occasion to savor.

She palmed his face, and Fitz whispered, "I love you". Olivia responded by taking his lips between hers. Their tongues danced with languor, sucking, teasing, licking. Olivia wanted this moment before she drove Fitz to his absolute limit.

Olivia could feel Fitz's dick engorging against her lower abdomen, which encouraged her wetness. She slipped her fingers over his hears and reluctantly pulled him back from her mouth. They were breathlessly in sync.

"Are you ready?"

"'Mellie', right?" Fitz confirmed their safe-word before beginning the scene. A boner-halting term that signalled distress and alarm, this was their safe word. If either one of them said it, all action would immediately cease. That word was all that remained of Fitz's first marriage.

Grabbing the leather riding crop from the wall, Olivia brought it down into the palm of her hand. "Right. Now, on your feet," she demanded.

Olivia slowly circled Fitz before standing in front of him again.

She ran the pad of her thumb over his parted lips. "I want you to do something for me."

"Anything."

She slid the riding crop from Fitz's clavicle down to the base of his length, along the underside of his shaft until she came to the tip of his head. A drop of his arousal spilled onto the leather. Watching this paragon of masculinity shiver under her ministrations, Olivia said, "I want you to touch yourself for me."

He didn't expect her to want that. "You want me to masturbate...while you watch?"

"Don't be cute. Just do as I say."

Fitz obeyed immediately, grabbing the fullness of his cock into his left hand. He closed his eyes and conjured images of the times he had made this same request of Olivia.

Before sitting in the armless chair to enjoy the evening's opening act, Olivia trickled lube onto Fitz's fisted dick. The slick coating made his strokes feel a little more like the suction of Olivia's mouth, or the sweet friction of her walls.

Olivia watched him, becoming wetter by the second. Every muscle in his body rippled. The veins in his neck pulsed. His mouth hung open and his head tilted back, his eyes squeezed shut.

"I bet I know what you're thinking about."

"You," he said, his eyes still fastened shut.

"Then look at me."

Fitz bit his lip at the sight before him. He was right, the panties did have little ties on the side. Olivia made quick work of removing the scrap of cloth. Her sex glistened with her arousal, and he was the only cause.

A gravelly growl escaped his lips as Fitz stroked himself a little faster.

Olivia dropped the riding crop. She brought a finger to part the lips of her slit before diving into opening with two fingers. She massaged the wetness around her folds, shivering each time she passed over her clit. Now it was she who was imaging him.

"Fitz, I love your cock. I love the way it feels in my mouth. The way you taste. How thick the head is. Seeing you touch yourself makes me so wet." She ran her other hand up her abdomen and quickly grabbed one of her covered breasts.

"Yeah?" Fitz moaned. He could barely take the sight in front of him. Olivia's writhing about and dirty talk never failed to spur him rapidly towards orgasm.

"Take that off," Fitz demanded.

"No."

Olivia took her fingers into her mouth and licked each one of them slowly, with her eyes closed. She knew what this would do to Fitz. He needed to be reminded of who was in charge.

She grabbed the riding crop off the floor and strutted demurely over to stand behind Fitz whose eyes were now closed. Olivia reached through his thighs and cupped his balls, enjoying the feel of the weight in her hand. "Did you just give me an order?"

Fitz sputtered. "No, Mistress. No."

Releasing her hold on his sack, she stepped back and swiftly brought the riding crop down on his firm ass. "Did you just give me an order?!" Another strike of the crop.

"Yes, Mistress."Fitz relented but the sexy command of her voice with the force of her strikes brought himself even closer to orgasm.

Standing stark naked and slightly bent at the knees, Fitz still had several inches on Olivia, yet she was an intimidating figure to him. She grabbed his hair and yanked his head back before licking the length of his neck up to his ear.

"I wanna hear you say that again."

"Yes, Mistress."

The cooling sensation of her breath over the moisture left by her mouth contrasted detectibly against the flush of heat everywhere else in his body. "Liv..." Fitz grunted though his teeth. "I'm so close. Can I see you?"

"No."

Every denial brought him closer to the edge. Fitz was rock hard and damn near purple from his need to come. Olivia raked her nails up the sides of his hairy thighs. He fisted his cock tighter, using short fast thrusts sure to catapult him to completion. Olivia pressed herself against his back, keenly aware of the lack of friction to her needy clit. But watching him pleasuring himself was making her lustful in a way she hadn't imagined. He was carved like Michelangelo's David, but hung with something more to her satisfaction.

"You are not allowed to come. Do you understand me?" It was wicked, and they both knew Fitz wouldn't be able to follow this directive. But the thrill of the threat was most important.

Ensuring failure, Olivia reached around to tug one of Fitz's nipples with one hand, the other massaged the area just behind his sack. Peeking around his shoulder, Olivia could see the tell-tale signs of his impending orgasm. His breathing was even more shallow; his sack drew closer to his body; and his taught abs undulated with his impending climax. His face scrunched tightly. Yahtzee.

"Fuuuuuuuuck!"Fitz cried out as he came. The creamy white substance spilled down his hand and onto the floor.

Olivia held him tightly, laying the side of her face against the fresh perspiration of his back and inhaled deeply. She continued to hold him, fingering his chest hair until his breathing was back to normal, until she could feel all the tension from his orgasm dissipate.

"You got to come and I didn't. Very naughty. You must like being punished because that's the second order of mine you have disobeyed. And since you are a repeat offender, I'm going to have to restrain you for what comes next."

Still on his knees wiping up the mess he made, Fitz looked up to Olivia with a playful dare in his eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would. I will. I'm going to."

Olivia reached into the pleasure chest behind her and retrieved two items: a dildo, and a set of black, neoprene neck and wrist restraints for Fitz. She placed the dildo on top of the chest before waltzing in front of him.

"Stand up," she ordered.

He stood to his full erect height. Naked and vulnerable in this erotic scene, his gaze lingered affectionately over every inch of Olivia's form. He desired this woman. He was utterly besotted with this woman. He would do anything for this woman. But truth be told, he was a little afraid of her at this point.

"Wrists together in front of you, Fitzgerald."

Bested, he did as he was told. The high collar tightened like a belt at the back of his neck, leaving him plenty of room breath comfortably. A cloth column reinforced with metal boning extended from the collar down to Fitz's lower abdomen. Evenly spaced metal hoops were embedded into the center of the material, serving as places to fasten the wrist restraints. Two straps at the bottom of the column secured behind Fitz's back to limit his movement once his wrists were fastened to the bottom hoops. He sat back on his heels after being restrained.

Slap. Slap. Slap. That was the sound the dildo made each time Olivia absentmindedly struck it against her palm. She was too busy looking down at her husband's dilated pupils. He wasn't in any real pain, but Olivia was determined to frustrate him to the hilt. The precise measure of cruelty was the only question on her mind.

"Livvie...what are you doing with that thing?" His nervous tone knocked her out of her daze.

"This? It's not for you; it's for me." Olivia stood the dildo up by its suction base and spun it around in her palm by its tip. "Remember when you were in Japan for two weeks about a month ago? The time difference was awful. My bullet and other vibrators all reminded me of your absence. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend I had a piece of you inside me. I couldn't very well do that with my wrist cramping from all that thrusting. So I bought this bad boy. Pretty good match, don't you think?!"

Olivia petted the toy proudly before fastening the base to the large wall mirror across from Fitz.

Replete with balls, veins and even a very bulbous pink head, Fitz couldn't deny how realistic the thing looked.

"But, Livvie, you've got me here, live..." he looked down as he neared full extension once again, "and in the flesh."

Olivia strode over to Fitz. She reach down to grab his chin in her open hand, and moved in close to his face.

"Such a pretty mouth you have, Fitzgerald. I can't wait to hear what sounds you make as you watch me bounce on a cock that's not yours." She smiled. His smugness: vanquished. "Now, it would be such a shame to have to gag you. That would ruin it for the both of us." She ruffled his curls. "Enjoy your punishment."

Olivia turned around in front of Fitz and removed the pleated leather mini encircling her waist, letting it drop to the ground. She slapped her ass cheeks upward making them jiggle. Looking back at Fitz over her shoulder, she gave him a quick wink.

"You are evil, but so damn sexy," Fitz confessed.

He simultaneously made her clit stiffen and her cheeks warm. For that he would get a small treat. Olivia reached down to gather the evidence of her wetness on two fingers. She eased them into his mouth. "Do I taste ready to you?"

It was the first bit of her he'd had the chance to touch or taste since they had started the scene. Fitz sucked on the citrusy zing coating her fingers like he hadn't eaten in days, not wanting to let them go. Olivia watched his eyes as she plunged her fingers in and out of his mouth. The intensity of his gaze, the eager caress of his tongue sent little volts of electricity through her body. She pictured his tongue rippling through her folds, darting in and out of her pussy. She looked down at his twitching cock, turgid once again. She could so easily mount him right now and ride him like a cowgirl into oblivion.

"Please," Fitz begged with praying hands. Whereas he got off on it, Olivia couldn't abide begging. He wasn't ready. She withdrew her fingers.

Facing Fitz, Olivia bent at the waist and arched her back in front of the dildo. She reached behind her and moved the head of the toy back and forth between her sodden lips. She hissed at the torture she was inflicting on herself, let alone on her poor husband who could do nothing but sit there and watch.

With hooded lids, she met Fitz's stormy stare. Inch by inch, she pushed back onto the full length of the thick head of the dildo until she could feel the cool touch of the mirror. Beginning a slow back and forth pace, Olivia gasped, surprising herself, "Oh fuck, I wish this was you." She reached behind her, artlessly grabbing the tie at the back of her neck, suddenly very aware of how confined her pebbled nipples were.

Fitz breathed like a bull facing a matador. She was bent over in his favorite position. He'd sell every worldly possession to devour just one of her bouncing, tear-shaped breasts. Damn it. This punishment felt unfair. And excruciating. By now his dick fully curved upwards, the swollen head tickled the edges of his hands. He literally could not touch himself to bring about relief. He was solely at Olivia's mercy, which, knowing her, is exactly how she wanted him.

Olivia rested her hands on her thighs as she began to piston with greater speed on the toy. "I bet you wanna fuck me just like this."

"No. Better."

The hunger in Fitz's eyes pierced her like a laser. She flooded the toy with wetness for her husband.

He was desperate to feel her against him. Fitz decided to hurry this along. "You see, I would slap and knead your ass as I watch you take all of me inside you. Again and again. I'd go so deep, tears would well up in your eyes. I'd make you so overcome with lust that you'd want to crawl out of your skin. But I wouldn't let you do that."

The images in Olivia's head of her husband fucking her just the way she liked, combined with the fact that he was forced to watch her, had her feeling high. Her eyes squeezed tight as she felt herself hurtling toward capitulation.

"Oh, god. More..."

"Instead, I'd wrap your hair around my hand and pull you up against my chest. I know you like that. And I'd lick the column of your beautiful neck. The walls of your cunt would be pleading with my cock for you to come. And having no mercy on you, I'd caress the shell of your ear with my tongue as I tapped away at your clit until—"

Reaching between her legs to put her over the top, she massaged her clit. "Fitz, I'm gonna..." She stiffened , squeezing her legs and knocking her knees together as her walls convulsed around the toy. "Uuuuuggggghh," Olivia groaned and shook as her whole body hiccupped with the aftershocks of her orgasm.

Nevermind his ears, Fitz's entire face was flushed with longing and frustration at seeing Olivia come without him. To no avail, he ferociously tried to gain relief by bending over to rub the edges of his clasped hands against the head of his penis. Near delirium, Fitz felt on the verge of tears-so full was his desire to be joined with Olivia. He begged to be untied. In response she had gotten on her knees to take the toy into her mouth, licking off the creamy essence of her own pleasure. She watched him through the mirror. He yanked and pulled at his restraints, his breathing growing violently rapid. That's when she knew she had reached the summit of what he could take. Plus, she missed him.

Olivia's hair had spilled forward into her face. Through the curtain of hair, she could see her poor, desperate husband on the floor. She clawed back tendrils to look up at the ceiling, silently praying that she'd be able to walk tomorrow after she and Fitz were done with each other. She licked her dry lips.

They had finally made it to the bed. Fitz lay, still restrained, on his back trying to concentrate on breathing through his heightened state of arousal. She's absolutely trying to kill me. That was Fitz's primary thought as Olivia, now straddling his waist in her stockings and garter belt, coated his lower abdomen with the evidence of her earlier orgasm.

His hands remained clasped in front of her sex. Jutting out his two pinkies underneath her, he began ticking the tender hood of her clit. Galaxies of goose pimples erupted all over her body as she shuddered in surprise.

Fitz angled his body to capture one of Olivia's distended nipple into his mouth, finally letting it go with a pop. Before Olivia could denounce the insolence she very much enjoyed, Fitz pushed further.

"I can smell you."

"And?"

"I want a taste. May I?" he smiled.

"Oh, we're using manners now? I do prefer that to begging."

"I don't."

She sighed. "You were doing so well, Fitzgerald."

He clamped both lips shut and shot her his best puppy dog eyes.

Olivia leaned down with her hands splayed above Fitz's head to kiss him. She gently skimmed his top lip with hers and he released an unexpected breath before capturing her lips with surety. He kissed her with an unhurried longing; as if his dick, purple with need, wasn't twitching against the crevice of of her bottom. The feel of his tongue had Olivia doing a slow grind on top of him. She ran her fingernails down the peaks and valleys of his muscular arms until she came to his wrists.

" If I untie you—"

"When. When you untie me. Because we both know that you will untie me. That you've been planning, yearning for that moment. All night." Feeling a surge of power, he chuckled "Your need is written all over you. I've smelled it, licked it off your fingers. And though I have loved every second of being your captive, when you untie me..." He took a moment's breath to calm himself and look darkly into her flushed face.

"What?"

"Well, the 'what' depends on when you untie me."

Turned on by the mystery of how he would pleasure her, Olivia freed Fitz's wrists, and released the belted closer at his back. He immediately grabbed the sides of her face, the part of her he most longed to hold. He pushed back wisps of her hair to gaze into the sunlight of her eyes, unafraid to be blinded by them. To be lost in them. To find himself reflected in them. He blinked to refocus and reached to kiss her once more.

"Livvie," he said, running his thumb from her mouth down her chin, through the valley of her breasts, until he reached her belly button. "I am going to fuck you into complete dismantlement."

"Yes."A frisson of anticipation shot up Olivia's spine igniting a hunger for him that immediately required sating.

Fitz hoisted Olivia up by the waist to mount his face. "I'm going to start with this pretty little pussy of yours. How many licks does it take to get to the center of this Tootsie pop?" How he could be so sexy and corny at the same time, she would never understand. Before she could contemplate, the slick underside of his tongue had her gasping as it flicked backwards over her engorged clit. The stubble of his chiselled chin sank into the depths of her entrance. She clutched his curls for dear life.

"Jesus, Fitz, I don't wanna... I...I want you inside me when I come," Olivia pleaded while continuing to extract every ounce of pleasure his face had to offer. The tension coiled tightly inside her belly. Her sensitive nipples: tumid with need. No longer required to follow her orders, he locked her hips in place. Fitz plundered and pillaged his way through her folds until she was coming all over his mouth. "Fiiiiittttz..."She nearly crushed his skull from involuntarily clamping her thighs.

Minutes later, after kissing her nectar from his mouth, Olivia realized he was still wearing the neck restraint. She worked to quickly remove this and toss it on the floor. Wet, open mouth kisses she planted all over his neck to soothe his discomfort. When her lips caressed his crimson ears, Fitz lost it. He grabbed his cock and coated himself in her wetness before lining up at her entrance.

She had waited as long as he had for this moment. Every tease and every punishment she had meted out was leading to the mortal pleasure of having him buried deep inside her. She looked into his eyes as she sank down onto him in one slick move. Fitz sprang up, feeling the need to hold her by the frame, whisper her name. "Livvie."They shuddered and groaned, savouring the feel of one another as their bodies adjusted to finally being joined.

That first thrust always felt like an arrow being shot through her system. Instead of dying, it made her keenly aware that she was living. Yes, his dick gave her life. That's what she felt there on top of Fitz, meeting his every upward thrust with a downward swivel of her hips. His inquisitive hands relished their newfound freedom as they sought ownership of every part of her supple flesh. He landed on her pillowy backside with a double spank of his hands.

"Oh, God," Olivia called out.

"I've missed you. Missed this" Fitz breathed out. Then the sweet torture began. Using her ass as leverage, he repeatedly lifted Olivia up so that only the tip of him remained inside her only to slam her back down. Soon, the spindly arms gripping his chest gave way. She collapsed into his neck as he moved a hand to hold her back.

She cooed and mewled at the feel of having her whole body in contact with his. His body hair was setting her on fire. Her nipples rubbed against the silken mane of his chest. Her swollen clit tickled against the brush of his groin each time he thrust deep inside her. The lingering woody, amber notes of his cologne mixed with the musk of his sweat, left Olivia deliriously carnal and unable to speak.

Fitz's clenched mouth burst into a roar at the feel of Olivia's teeth sinking into his neck. He grabbed the back of her hair by the root to bring her face in line with his.

"Look at me." She did.

"Don't close your eyes." She wouldn't.

Staring at her, open mouthed, with a religious reverence, he needed her to come apart before he did. Fitz worked his hips overtime; his dick stridently coaxed Olivia toward the crest of her climax. She could barely keep her eyes open to look at him. She was at that place and he knew it. Fitz brought her head down to the side of his face. He accessed the deepest part of his baritone for her.

"Come for me like a good girl."

And suddenly she had arrived. A sweet surrender, it felt not unlike falling. La petite mort silenced her so that she came—not with a loud groan as she had earlier, but—with an almost imperceptible squeak of her husband's name. Fitz knew, always, just how to please her.

No more than a minute later, Fitz had succumbed to the intense tsunami of warm, wet and pulsating wave after wave Olivia's orgasm gripping around him. He spilled himself inside her as he held onto her for dear life.

Olivia moved to lay half her body over him, nestling her face into the side of his sweaty neck. She kissed him there and licked the salt from her lips. Fitz kissed her forehead.

They lay there, sex funky, sated and happy, until sleep threatened them both. Their playtime was always fun, always exhausting.

"I love you, too," Olivia yawned out, snapping Fitz out of his sleepy haze.

"What?"

"I love you, too. I didn't say it back to you earlier. It would have softened the whole dominatrix thing I had going on."

"Which I loved, by the way." He kissed her forehead.

"You wouldn't think so, ya big hunk of insolence." She playfully swatted his chest.

Always amazed at his strength, or maybe just at how petite she truly was—she was after all the formidable Olivia Pope, whose reputation loomed larger than her physical stature—she squealed as Fitz hoisted her above him like he was going to bench press her.

"Come on, you love my insolence. Then you get to punish me. Admit it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I only admit to loving you."

"Aww, you're madly in love with me. You wanna have, like, ten thousand of my babies." He smiled that boyishly handsome grin of his, and Olivia melted a little bit.

"Let's just start with this first one, shall we. Now put me down, you brute!"she wiggled to weaken his strength.

Fitz brought her down gently to rest back on his chest, his arms cloaking her in his love. What he loved the most was right there in his arms. He'd never leave her, nor forsake her.

Suddenly, he realized the weight of what Olivia had just said.

"Livvie, are you saying what I think you're saying?"

A/N: So...hey. This is my first time writing fan fiction, and also my first time writing erotica. This story popped in my head and I had to tell it. I would appreciate your honest feedback-good or bad. Thanks. I might have another one-shot in this vein, if there's interest.