Oh, oh, I want some more
Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?
Take a bite of my heart tonight
Oh, oh, I want some more
Oh, oh, what are you waiting for?
What are you waiting for?
Say goodbye to my heart tonight
It’s by accident that he discovers it.
They’ve already made love twice since she declared her feelings for him, and now they’re lying in silence, entwined around each other as he runs his fingers over the bare skin of her back. It’s a moment of stillness, a pause before the coming hours bring the realities they must face in the light of day. For now, they are not in Nanda Parbat; they are just Oliver and Felicity, two people finding themselves in one another.
She sighs blissfully as he presses a gentle kiss to her jaw, followed by one to her neck. Her hands tighten on the muscles of his back as she returns from the half-asleep, satiated haze into which she’d fallen, and he smiles as his next kiss, to her shoulder, makes her let out her breath in a slow shudder.
“Oliver,” she whispers, and he pulls her tighter against him until he can feel her heartbeat through her skin. He kisses her once, on the back of her shoulder now, as she’s curled into him. Then – he’s not sure what possesses him to do it – he opens his mouth so his teeth graze her skin, and gently bites her soft flesh.
Her whole body jerks and she pushes away from him, rolling so she faces the opposite wall before sitting up, cross-legged. She pulls the sheet with her so it covers her, wrapping it around her like a shield, but Oliver can still see the slight shake to her body as she buries her face in her hands.
Still in shock, Oliver reaches out to touch her, and then cringes as she flinches away.
“Felicity, I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I shouldn’t have… I should’ve asked; I don’t know why I…”
“No,” she says, softly, and he rests his palm against her back, feeling her heart now doubling in speed from what it was before. “It’s okay.”
“It isn’t,” he insists. “Look at me. Talk to me, Felicity. I promise I won’t do anything like that again.”
Felicity glances around at him, then, her cheeks flushed and her eyes glistening, but she doesn’t look scared or upset. Instead, she seems ashamed, but… eager?
He has spent the better part of three years looking into those eyes and trying to read them, and surely his experience isn’t lying to him now. Her pupils are dilated, making her bright eyes look unusually stormy, and her intense gaze makes his words catch in his throat.
Instead, to confirm his suspicions, he carefully pulls down part of the sheet that covers her back until he can see the slightly reddened spot where he’d bitten her. He runs his thumb over the area and she inhales, her cheeks reddening further as she drops her gaze.
“Felicity,” he growls, and she shudders again in response to the low timbre of his voice.
“Don’t,” she says, shakily. “I already know everything you’re thinking.”
“Do you?” he challenges. “Then you know that I think you’re beautiful, especially when you want something and don’t know how to ask for it.”
She looks up sharply. “What?”
“You never have to feel ashamed when you’re with me,” Oliver tells her, forcefully.
She seems uncertain, pulling the sheet tighter around herself again, and Oliver curses whoever it was that made her feel so embarrassed about what she wants in bed. If it was that idiot, Palmer…
Gently, he cups her chin and turns her lips to his, kissing her sweetly as her eyes fall shut.
“Do you trust me?” he murmurs between kisses.
“More than anyone,” she breathes.
“Then know that you can be honest with me about anything.”
He kisses her fiercely, then, clashes of tongue and teeth, and her hands grip his shoulders as the sheet falls away, leaving her gloriously naked all over again. She sinks backwards onto the bed and he follows, kissing down the side of her neck.
He bites, lightly, and she groans, angling her head to bare her flesh to him. He runs his tongue teasingly over the area before moving away, kissing her on the forehead as she whines in protest.
“What do you want, Felicity?” he whispers, running his fingers over her ribs and down to her waist. He grips her there, holding her still with that one hand and his lower body as he brushes his stubble-covered jaw over the soft swell of her breast, before sinking his teeth into it. She cries out, writhing, but he moves away too quickly and she groans again.
“Tell me what you want,” he says again, a musical lilt in his tone.
His fingers trail down her thigh and he bends her leg up, thankful that her self-defense training has accentuated her natural flexibility. He only grazes his teeth along the inside of her thigh, but she swears, her hands gripping the pillow above her head. Patiently, he waits, listening to the sound of her frantic pants echoing off the walls.
“Please,” she begs again, hoarsely.
“What do you want?”
“You know what,” she grumbles, fixing him with a fiery glare.
“I know, but I want to hear you say it.”
He nips at the spot below her ear and she yelps.
“Fine! I like it when you do… that,” she exclaims.
Her next words come out as a whisper. “Bite me.”
At the same time as his teeth clamp down on her shoulder again, he sinks two fingers into her, taking pride in the way she cries out. He coordinates his touch with his teeth, delighted to find that the harder he bites, the louder she cries. She doesn’t seem concerned about the bruises she will likely have in the morning – she doesn’t seem concerned about anything, really, her exalted sobs wracking her entire body as he sends her soaring before gently bringing her back down with passionate kisses.
“I think I just blacked out,” she mumbles, and he laughs.
“We’re not done yet,” he promises.
“Oliver! I can’t… I won’t be able to…”
He ignores her, tangling his fingers through her hair as he explores her mouth with his tongue, a possessive demon inside of him reveling in the darkening bite marks he’s left on her. When he considers it, it isn’t astonishing that she’s adventurous in bed – she’s always finding new ways to surprise him, and he loves her all the more for it.
He finds an unblemished patch of skin on her hip, and she gasps, digging her fingernails into the skin at the back of his neck as he nips her.
“One more,” he urges. “Just one more before morning.” Before I lose you. The unspoken words hang in the air between them.
He slides into her, painfully slowly, and tears slip unbidden from under her eyelids as he simply holds her close, one hand stroking her hair. After a few moments, he begins to move, met with her purrs of approval as he scrapes his teeth along her neck, setting her nerves alight again. Time creeps past as he carries her again to the precipice.
“Let go,” he tells her, and with a final bite, he sends her over.
His name tears from her throat and, to muffle the sound, she turns her head and bites into Oliver’s shoulder. He comes with a groan, collapsing entirely on top of her, and it takes minutes before he remembers who he is and why they’re there.
He rolls off her, brushing her hair off her face, and whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she says, her eyes still closed. “Why the hell didn’t we do this sooner?”
He doesn’t answer, simply pulling her into him as exhaustion finally kicks in. Her eyes flutter open, spying the web of broken blood vessels under his skin in two perfect crescents.
“Sorry about that,” she winces.
“Don’t be,” he tells her. “I liked it.”
Again, he can feel her heart beating against his own, as if it’s trying to break free of her ribcage and leap inside of him. As formidable as the coming day seems, he is glad they’d had this night together, that he’d learned how she tasted and felt and sounded when his teeth touched her skin.
No matter the crucible he faces, Felicity loves him.
He won’t stop fighting until he makes it back to her.