She took a few steps backwards, trying to put some space in between them, trying to gather her wits; her self-control. Her sanity. 

It was a losing battle. 

“Why are we here?” her voice was hushed in the shadowy silence filling the space between them. Her body was still all atremble inside. Olivia wrapped her arms around her body, willing herself not to show how much he’d affected her, not knowing she was already betrayed by the rapid movement of her chest as she struggled to bring her breathing back to normal and the whispery sound of her voice because she couldn’t.

Fitz didn’t answer her right away; he was caught up in the vision he saw before him.  The moonlight streaming through one of the drapes caught her just right, illuminating her with a pearly glow. In it, Olivia’s beauty was almost otherworldly, as though she were a dream that might disappear at a touch.

Try as she might try to hide her response to his touch, she couldn't; and Fitz was entranced by it. Olivia couldn’t hide the shimmer of desire in her eyes or the trembling of her barely-parted, kiss-swollen lips. 

“We - we need to talk.” There was no need for him to answer her - not in words - his intent and his desire was as clear as the starlight caught in his eyes. 

Fitz had loosened his bowtie and collar while he’d been waiting for Olivia’s arrival in the limo; it still hung loosely around his collar and overall, it gave him a rakish, devilishly sexy appearance that no woman would find easy to resist. 

It was even harder for Olivia in this moment, knowing as she did, the smoothly muscled body that lay beneath his clothes. Knowing, as he had just so inimtately reminded her, the strength and passion that lay in his touch. Even as she watched, Fitz began slowly unbuttoning the cuffs on his shirt, all the while never taking his eyes from hers. When he had done with the cuffs, his hands went back to his throat, taking his time unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it from his slacks until it hung open, baring his chest. Involuntarily, her eyes drifted briefly to his chest, seeing the chisled muscles and the soft matting of hair that trailed downward to see the evidence of his desire. She jerked her eyes upwards again.

“No, no we don’t.” Fitz said. Still holding her gaze, he began walking towards her, stopping just short of them touching. “Not now, not tonight.”

She parted her lips to speak - not even knowing what it was she was going to say - but he stopped her with a quiet voice that was full of command.

“Not. Now, Olivia.” And all at once, the air between thickened with heated tension that was more than mental, more than sexual. The connection that was unique to the both of them came alive just because of their closeness. 

His voice, low, intense in the way that always made her insides react, rekindled the embers of desire that still lingered inside her from their earlier encounter. Olivia drew in a breath shaky with a sudden re-igninting of her earlier arousal. His eyes - as always - they had the power to fill her full of fire and heat, a heat that centered itself along several pinpoints of desire deep inside her own body, leaving her feeling weak with rising desire.

Her eyes drank in the sight of him; think what she might in the moment, Fitz was a beautifully made man.  Taller than most, underneath his tailored suits, he was amazingly muscled and proportioned. Arrogantly male, he stood there, letting her look all she wanted. His eyes told her that Fitz knew what the sight of him half-dressed was doing to her. 

He was seducing her, deliberately using all of her senses against her, but Olivia didn’t know that just as the sight of her standing before him was doing the same to him.  He moved towards her, purposefully stopping to stand there with just an inch of space between them; close enough for her to feel the heat rising from his body, to catch the deep heated scent of his flesh, to imagine, but not yet feel the touch of his body against hers.

“Shhh.” he whispered. Silence followed in the wake of his words. 

It was as though that silence had a life of its own, Olivia realized as she gazed up at him. Since they’d reconnected through the White House, their days and too often their nights were spent in a whirlwind of moments underlaid with urgency and tension. But here, time and circumstances - both past and present - had been left beyond the door now shut behind them. 

If she could leave them there. 

Practicality and logic warred with love and desire and all of it showed clearly in her eyes.

As was the battle within her.  Captured by the shadowy half-existence of their surroundings, feeling like they were cut off from the world and all of its entanglements, Olivia surrendered to the moment. 

He saw her decision in her eyes. As though he had all the time in the world, Fitz reached out and captured both of his wrists in his hands. As his thumbs rubbed slowly, gently at the insides of her wrists, Olivia tried to keep her breathing steady, but failed, unable to not react to the sensations even this simple touch evoked. Her senses had already begun to smoulder at his nearness as her body remembered all to well the storm he’d brought into being earlier and knowing what further pleasures he could give. 

Olivia felt her pulses leap; in surprising counterpoint to the way he had handled her so knowing and sure earlier, now his touch this time was gentle. He held her as though she were the most fragile of things; like the first petal of a rose in bloom to fall. 

He said it all in his eyes - without saying a word - she was precious to him still. 

Her heart leapt in her chest; the memories in her mind shone clear in her eyes and in the space of a few heartbeats shifted and became reflected in his.  

Slowly, Fitz brought her hands up to his chest; pressed them flat against his skin. Still not breaking eye contact, he covered her hands with his own and began to slowly slide them up and down across his chest’s muscled contours. 

“There are all kinds of reasons why we shouldn’t do this.” she said shakily. But even as she spoke the words, she let Fitz continue to guide her hands across his skin. 

His eyes remained locked on hers; still silent, Fitz’s answer was to press down even more firmly.

His fingers slid between her own, parting them. The gesture reminded her so much of that night when their hands had first touched that another pang of memory swept through her, feeling a fresh rush of emotion that made her heart race and her body tremble. 

 Under his guidance, she found her hands sliding through the soft whorls of Fitz’s chest hairs. They were crisp and soft all at once against her skin, a tactile reminder of the rest of his body, of his masculinity - not that she needed any reminding. The sensation tingled through her palms, sending fresh tendrils of heat through her veins. 

Fitz refused to give Olivia any time to think, to doubt, to deny this moment between them.  Continuing this sensual onslaught on her senses, Fitz bent down started trailing his lips along the contours of her face. His mouth was like butterfly wings,  lips soft against her skin, soft but insistent on tasting her, trailing themselves along her soft jawline and upwards to lightly trace the contours of her ear then back again to do the same to the other. 

Fitz breathed in the sweet scent of her, letting it fill his own senses. The delicate touch of her hands moving on him were driving him wild inside, but he forced himself with an iron will to maintain this slow pace. Moments like these were meant to be savored. 

Moments like this might have to last him a lifetime.

That thought sent his mouth urgently against her own as a new hunger filled him. He couldn’t get enough of her; the incredible feeling of her hands touching him, stroking him, the feel of his lips and then his tongue tasting and slowly tangling with hers. All of it sent sharp pangs of desire thrusting through him, leaving him greedy for more. 

Fitz couldn’t know the havoc he was causing inside of her, Olivia thought dazedly. She could barely think - under Fitz’s kisses, under his touch - all she could do is feel.  

Beyond these walls, outside that door were every reason why they should not, could not be. He might have been arrogant with her before, but it had been a shell; an arrogance built by hurt, by pride, by pain. He was free of it now; his kisses proved it. His kisses now were no less passionate, but there was more to them, they were filled with the truths that had been buried deep inside his broken heart. The heart she had broken. 

The heart that had broken hers in return.

But now there was sweet healing in their kisses, from him to her and slowly but just as strongly, from her to him. Her heart could not help but soar with this unspoken knowledge,  following Fitz’s heart as he led her down the road towards forgiveness and bliss.