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This party blew.

But that’s what you got when you went to frat parties, Felicity told herself. Frat parties were the lowest form of social gatherings, the refuge of the desperate and/or depressed. But for a girl who was barely eighteen and had done two years’ worth of college courses in one, there weren’t many options when you really, really, really needed a drink.

So that was why she was clutching a red Solo cup of crappy beer and standing in the corner, watching her fellow students blow off steam, drink themselves silly, and hook up with strangers.

Swishing her dark hair over her shoulders, Felicity took a long swallow of her beer, draining the last of it. Okay, so it sucked that she was here by herself, since all her studying hadn’t given her a lot of time to make friends. But she had two weeks off until summer session started, two whole glorious weeks to marathon the TV shows she had missed, read the books she had to put off, stay up all night and sleep during the day.

It was a nerd’s dream and she was going to enjoy it fully.

And if maybe, as a break, she explored a few websites that she didn’t have permission to visit, like the Paramount Pictures servers in order to find cut footage from Iron Man . . . well, what was the harm in just looking around?

None. No harm at all. Nope. So she was going to drink some more beer, maybe dance a little if they played some good music, and then go home to get started on her TV marathon.

With an empty cup, Felicity ambled over to one of the kegs. She had just finished filling her cup when someone knocked into her, hard. She fell forward and ended up bent over the keg, her cup flipping up and splashing beer all over her.

“Oh, damn, sorry. Whoa, your ass.”

Okay, so she was right about frat parties and she definitely should have stayed home tonight. Because the last thing she wanted to deal with was some douchebag of a frat boy Grimacing, Felicity dropped her cup and pushed herself up, feeling a hand on her elbow.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to yank her arm away.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Frat Boy said, helping her up the rest of the way. Felicity pushed her hair out of her face and looked up at her attacker/attempted rescuer.

Total frat boy. From the floppy hair and casually-wrinkled button-down to the freaking khaki shorts and man flip-flops. A smooth, babyish jaw and--well, at least his eyes were pretty.

And those eyes were really obvious in running over her. Taking in her dark black hair, black tank top, and tight black cargo pants.

“Well, someone likes black,” he said, meeting her eyes. He gave her a lazy smile. “Are you okay?”

Folding her arms over her chest, Felicity looked up at him. “Wow, your concern is touching.”

“Look, I really am sorry. Guess I’ve had a few too many.” He lifted up his own red Solo cup, waggling it in the air with that same stupid grin. “Lemme get you a fresh one.”

Felicity watched him start filling cups for both of them, then spoke. “Does this really work?”

His eyes narrowed as he handed over a cup of foamy beer, following her as she moved away from the keg, coming to a stop at the side of the room against a wall. “What?”

“This whole routine,” Felicity said, cocking her head to the side. “Act all charming so the girl will excuse your dick behavior? Maybe you should try something else.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?” He’s stepped closer to her, looming over her a bit, and she had to tilt her head way back to look up at him. Super-tall guys have never done it for her, but she feels a momentary flash of something when she’s craning her neck. Like he’s a challenge she wants to rise to. He doesn’t try to cage her against the wall, which she didn’t expect. And it also pissed her off a little.

“Being honest. Not playing games. Either talk to me like I’m a person, someone you wanna get to know,” Felicity said, her words coming faster, “or treat me like a piece of ass and go for it.”

She’s kind of trying to shock him, seeing how far she can push him. Shake up this vanilla-looking frat boy. Because honestly, she’s spent the last year studying her fucking brains out, and she’s feeling an itch to not be herself. She already wasn’t really herself, with her dyed-black hair and the goth clothes. But why would she come to a frat party if it wasn’t to be someone other than herself? And picking up a guy she’d never even talk to on another night? That’s what she needs.

His pretty blue eyes narrowed a little. “Bullshit.”

“Bullshit? You wanna elaborate, frat boy?” she asked, resting her free hand on her hip.

“Like a girl really wants a guy to treat her like that,” he said, taking a healthy swallow from his beer. “You might say that, but really you all want the charm.”

“Not if it’s fake charm. Not if it’s about playing games,” Felicity argued. She paused, then she smirked. “Or maybe you’re worried about what would happen if the tables were turned.”

He let out a snort. “What, a girl just coming up and asking me for sex? You’ve just described my dream--the ultimate fantasy. And every other guy’s.”

Oh, he was pretty--because by now she’d carefully scoped him out and knew his body was pretty good and his eyes were certainly gorgeous--but he wasn’t too bright. Because he had played right into her trap.

Reaching up, Felicity grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down towards her. “Hi,” she said, doing her best attempt at a sultry voice. “You’re really hot. Bet you can’t make me scream.”


Holy shit, what the fuck?

Oliver blinked, staring into the eyes of this girl who was hitting on him. Like, really hitting on him, like she was a guy and he was a girl. And why did that turn him on? More than he already was?

This party had been majorly boring, which sucked since this was his last one in Boston--BU had decided it had enough of Oliver Queen, which was fine with him since the winter had sucked ass and the girls had to stay too covered up ‘cause it was fucking freezing.

Not tonight, at least, but still, the party was lame and it had only started being okay when he had knocked the hot Goth girl over the keg, making her cargo pants stretch over an ass that was tight and round, the best ass he had ever seen.

So yeah, he wanted to flirt with her, get her to come up to his room and let him get a better look at her. The Goth thing didn’t do much for him, but for that ass he was willing to see what could happen.

But then she’d been all . . . difficult. Sassy, showing off how smart she was. Which made her seem waaaaay too much like Laurel, but there was something kinda sweet about this girl, too? Whatever it was, it didn’t make him feel like his balls were in a vise.

And now she was making his cock harden by saying he couldn’t make her scream.

“Oh, I can,” he said, his voice low and rough, just the way girls liked it. He put the hand not holding his beer on her hip--well, between her hip and ass, let’s be honest--and pulled her in against him.

She looked skeptical and pursed her lips. And Oliver was done.

Dropping his red Solo cup, he sank his hand into her hair and covered her lips with his. She almost immediately opened her mouth, letting him taste her, and god damn it, she could kiss.

Before he had anywhere near enough, she pulled her lips away and started kissing along his jaw. Oliver sucked in a breath as she lightly nipped his earlobe. “Not bad, frat boy.”

He swallowed. “You--you gonna keep callin’ me that all night?”

The girl lifted her head and looked at him. “Maybe. Since you haven’t told me what your name is,” she said with a smirking little smile. A smile he wanted to kiss off her face, until she was panting and moaning his name.

Opening his mouth, he heard himself say, “Oliver. My name’s Oliver.”

What the fuck? He almost never told people his full name. It was such a boring-ass name. But . . . but he was pretty damn sure this girl would laugh if she knew everyone called him Ollie.

Before he could think any more about it, he cupped her face in his hand--Jesus, she was so tiny--and kissed her deeply, a bit slower than before. Feeling like he really wanted to figure her out.

When he pulled away, he felt a stab of pride at seeing her pink cheeks, at how she was breathing a bit harder. “What--what’s your name?” he stuttered out.

She looked up at him, needing to tilt her head back a lot. So much, the ends of her hair brushed against the back of his hand, where it rested on her lower back.

“Felicity,” she said, licking her lips.

Felicity? He’d never met anyone named Felicity. It seemed like an old lady kind of name . . . but he kinda liked it. They both had weird names.

He grinned and kissed her again, pulling her against him, but damn, she was so short. He couldn’t get her close enough and kiss her at the same time.

“C’mere,” he whispered against her lips, sliding his hands down to cup her ass, which, wow, felt even better than he thought it would. And as he started to lift her up, she jumped up and wrapped her legs around him.

Oh, fuck!

Now she was close. So close, right against his dick, and that was really fucking good.

Turning them, Oliver pressed her back against the wall, which let him move one of his hands to her back. And they were still kissing, and she was making these noises that went straight to his dick--like straight there. Or it could be the heat and friction. But no, he thought it was her little gasps.

What the hell was going on? He was ready to fuck her against the wall, in the middle of this sucky party, and that thought finally made him stop kissing her.

“Come to my room,” he said, looking at her. “I’ll make you scream.”

Felicity let out this snort that made him grin, because Jesus, she was snorting as she pressed herself right against his cock. She ran a hand through his hair. “Not big on public sex?”

Not around this many people with camera phones. He wasn’t nearly drunk enough to make a sex tape.

“Just don’t wanna make all these people jealous of me,” he said, kissing her neck.

“Mmm, good charm,” she said, tilting her head back. “Okay, yeah.”

She shifted, dropping one leg from around his waist, but then she looked surprised when he pulled it back into place. “Oliver?”

Grinning at her, he shrugged. “Thought I’d give you a ride.”

“Okay, that--I was going to say lame, but actually, that’s not too bad,” Felicity said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “But that’s not gonna do much to make me scream, you know.”

“Just wait,” he said, carrying her towards the stairs.


God damn it, the stupid frat boy--Oliver--was actually . . . okay, so maybe this would be less about playing with his head--heads--and she would get something out of this. Because he was definitely vanilla, but he was also eager. And it was like he was acting, too. That deep down, he wasn’t quite as dickish as he tried to appear. She didn’t know why, but it made this feel like a lot more fun now.

Frat boys weren’t her thing at all, but for some reason, she was turned on by Oliver in a way she had never been before.

She held on to his really nice shoulders as he carried her through the party, but when they reached a staircase, he paused and took a breath. “How ‘bout you walk the rest of the way?”

Laughing, Felicity unhooked her legs and slid down, helped by Oliver’s hands. “A+ for effort.”

Oliver’s face was the picture of frustration, until he grabbed her hand and pulled her in for a kiss. Against her lips, he muttered, “You make me so hot. Even when you’re laughing at me.”

That went double for her. Because even though this was just supposed to be sex, and it was just going to be sex, she also wanted to have some fun. And despite his first impression, Oliver was proving to be fun.

The jury was still out on the sex, but from the way he kissed, he definitely had potential.

“Where’s your room?” she said softly, looking up at him.

“This way,” he said, rushing towards the stairs and pulling her along by the hand. She held on, trying to keep up with his long legs, up to the third floor. He threw open a door and brought her in, barely waiting for her to get inside before he was closing and locking the door. And then he pushed her up against the door and started kissing her again.

Closing her eyes, Felicity gave herself over to Oliver’s kisses. She really really loved making out: the kisses, the touches, unexpected actions like--oh, sucking on her ear, yessss . . .

“Oliver,” she whispered, gripping his shirt. “Yeah, like that.”

His mouth was wet and hot against her skin. He sucked on her earlobe, his tongue flicking against her earring. His hands ran over her back, drifting closer to her ass.

She felt dizzy. “Oh, okay, you’re a really good kisser,” she said, unable to hold back the words. “Want you to kiss me all over.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his lips moving to her neck.

“Uh-huh,” she said, pulling him closer. “Want you between my legs. Licking and sucking.”

To her surprise, Oliver stopped kissing her neck and pulled back to look at her. His eyes were wide and blue and he was breathing really hard. “What?”

“I want you to go down on me,” Felicity said, leaning her head back against the door to look up at him, her eyes focusing on his lips. “You’ve got a really good mouth.”

Oliver swallowed. “Y-yeah?” he repeated, his pupils so large and dark, the blue of his pupils was nearly gone.

Nodding slowly, Felicity lifted her eyes to his as she brought her hand up to rub her thumb against his lower lip. “You think you could do that, Oliver? You might be able to make me scream that way. I do like getting eaten out.”

Okay, wow. That was dirty, with how her voice had dropped and she was looking right into his eyes. She usually talked a lot during sex, but most of the time it was more moans and gasps and less ‘this is what I want and I want you to do it to me right now’ kind of thing. But tonight, Felicity was that kind of girl.

And it looked like it was blowing Oliver’s mind. In a good way? She didn’t know. But she liked challenging him like this. Taking control.

God, she hoped this didn’t backfire on her. Because she thought tonight could be really good--

“Mmfph!” she said against his lips, as he bent down and started devouring her mouth. His hands went right to her ass, squeezing and kneading and oh, this was working for her.

So maybe he liked being told what to do. Or maybe he thought she would return the favor and that turned him on. Whatever the reason--Felicity was down for it.

Which meant it was well past time to unbutton that stupid baby blue shirt that matched his stupid pretty eyes.

Just as soon as she thought her fingers might work.


Was this girl for real? Oliver wasn’t sure. Didn’t know if this was some kinda weird power game she was playing, or some passive-aggressive bullshit like Laurel used to pull. Although really, he was having a hard time remembering the girl he was supposed to be in love with.

Not with Felicity right here. Not with the honesty and sincerity shining in her eyes. Making him think this wasn’t a trick or a trap.

That this was real.

Felicity was asking him to go down on her, without any strings or promises. No flirty offers of ‘tit for tat’. And that was a first. Girls never asked him for anything without promising to return the favor.

He could do this and she might not give him a blow job. Or even have sex with him.

And he was okay with that. Because he liked that she knew what she wanted. That she was up-front about it. And because he was ready to make her come with his mouth and fingers, make her come so hard that she would definitely not want to walk out of this room.

So what the fuck was he waiting for?

Oliver slid his hands up from her ass and grabbed the hem of her tank top, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of her sides. He pulled back, their lips separating with a pop, and looked at her as he dragged her top over her head, her arms going up in the air to help him.

“You--you think you need my top off to do this?” she asked, her voice a bit breathy. Like she was affected by this as much as he was.

“Nah, just wanted to see what color your bra is,” Oliver teased her, glancing down and then nodding. “Purple. Nice. I like it.”

She rolled her eyes and reached out, starting to unbutton his shirt.

“I don’t need to lose my shirt to go down on you, Felicity,” he said, moving closer to her.

“Shut up,” she said, looking up at him for a moment, desire so bright in her eyes that he nearly went to his knees. Although since that was where he was headed . . .

He pressed a kiss against her lips and lifted her hands away from his shirt. Then, he kneeled in front of her, reaching for the button of her cargo pants.

Felicity let out a tiny little noise, one that sounded like an ‘eep!’, as he undid her cargo pants. Her stomach was soft-looking; not flabby, but she had curves. Curves that he liked. Leaning forward, he peppered kisses over her stomach, his hands moving into her open pants to stroke along the waistband of her panties.

Her hands fluttered over his hair, then rested on his shoulders. She shifted her feet a little and he grinned against her. “Nervous?” he asked, looking up at her.

“No. Eager. Less talking, more kissing,” she said, trying to sound bossy like earlier. But something had shifted. Something that softened most of the sass in her.

But if he took the time to figure out what had changed, it would be that much longer before he could taste her. And Oliver’s mouth was watering.

He nipped at the lower curve of her belly, going with his instincts. She let out a soft gasp and leaned back against the door, her eyes closing.

Okay, definitely always go with his instincts.

Rubbing his hands against her hips, Oliver kept pressing kisses to her stomach, mixing in some licks and nips. Then, he slowly wrapped his fingers around her panties and started lowering them and her pants to the floor.

She was breathing a bit heavier as she kicked off her flip-flops. Oliver let his eyes roam down her legs--how did they look so long when she was so short?--and helped her get out of her clothes. A soft sound made him look up in time for Felicity’s bra to drape over his shoulder. She half-grinned, half-smirked at him.

This girl was going to drive him crazy. But he was gonna take her with him. So Oliver smirked back at her, and then let his eyes move to look at all of her.

Because Felicity was fucking gorgeous. And he was going to make her scream, so she would stay. Because eating her out? There was no way that would be enough to satisfy him.

Licking his lips, Oliver slid his hands to her ass, tipping her pelvis a little. Felicity’s hands held his shoulders a bit tighter, and when he leaned in towards her, she took a deep breath.

Slowly, he began kissing over her mound, taking in everything: the firmness of her lower belly easing into the softness of her sex, covered in a bit of wiry hair that was fairer than the hair on her head. He moved his hands from her ass to the backs of her thighs, gently easing her legs apart a little, so he could get his mouth where she needed it. Where he needed it.

This wasn’t something he did with many girls. Well, actually, only one girl ever. And not many times. But as he breathed in Felicity, as he felt her tremble, Oliver felt more eager, more excited, for a sexual act than he had ever been before.

And when he covered her with his mouth, sliding his tongue through her folds as he realized how wet she was, hearing her let out this low, long moan, Oliver felt his cock harden even more.


The moment his tongue started lapping at her, Felicity groaned, pressing against his face. “Ohhhh . . . yeah. Oliver, Oliver, that’s it.”

He didn’t stop to tease her. At least, not with words. No, he teased her with his tongue. Which, wow, was even better than she thought it might be, especially when--oh, fuck, he was rubbing the flat of his tongue against her clit and it felt soooooo good . . .

His eyes flicked up to hers, and Felicity thought she might have said that out loud, but she didn’t care. As long as he kept going, she was going to say whatever she wanted. Because seriously? He could do this? Thank God for ignoring first impressions.

Felicity couldn’t take her eyes off him. At her hand, buried in his hair. At his closed eyes, like he couldn’t let himself be distracted by the view as he lapped at her. At his hand, gripping her hip, covering so much of her body.

No one had ever worked her up this fast. Okay, so ‘this’ had only happened twice, and both times it kind of sucked and her boyfriend had asked her “Can’t we just have sex?” And she had gone along, because she wanted to come. (Which had only happened one of those times.)

But she was definitely going to have a really, really, really good climax just from Oliver’s mouth, and as her body tightened, her voice growing louder as she got closer, she knew that she was going to want more from him.

More of him.

“Oliver--Oliver, yes, there--oh, yeah, c’mon, I’m almost--don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” she keened, on the edge and so ready to come. One of his hands was rubbing her hip, the thumb on his other hand was rolling her clit around, his tongue was swirling around her entrance and catching up her juices, and he was making these greedy little noises, like she tasted delicious, and, and--

“Oliver!” she honest-to-God screamed as she came, her body shaking and trembling, feeling grateful she had the door behind her to help hold her up, but her knees felt really shaky and if it wasn’t for Oliver’s sexy hands bracing her, she’d have collapsed.

For a few long moments, Felicity was too caught up in her body to think about anything. That was what she loved about sex: it let her mind go blank. Let her shut down a little. Reboot her system. And normally it was scary, but in that good way. The only kind of scare that she could handle in her life.

So when she blinked and realized she was laying on a bed, Oliver’s hand lightly stroking over her stomach, at first she thought it was like that. That the sex had whited out her brain, but now that she was awake, she was back to herself.

But when she turned her head and looked into his oh-so-gorgeous eyes, Felicity realized that her brain was still gone.

Maybe because he had taken his shirt off, and holy shit.

Yeah, okay, he hadn’t been able to carry her up to his room--but the frat boy was still packing some nice muscles. Muscles that she really wanted to lick.

“Hey,” he said, his smile oh-so-close to a smirk. “So . . . I think I made you scream.”

That was why he wasn’t smirking--he was doing the smug voice thing. And even though he was right, Felicity wasn’t about to let him get away with this. “Barely,” she said, giving in and reaching her hand out to touch his chest.

“Barely?” he asked, moving a bit closer to her. “I shoulda have gotten ear plugs.” He paused, then grinned. “But then I wouldn’t have heard you, and that would have sucked.”

Oliver leaned in, still smiling, and kissed her slowly, his lips moving against hers. Felicity closed her eyes and kissed him back, the fingers of her hand spreading wide over his abs. The kiss stretched out, their lips lingering, until Felicity pulled back to look at him. “Why would it have sucked?”

She watched as something flickered in his eyes, then his lips twisted into a small smile. “‘Cause I’ve never been with a girl who talks so much during sex.”

“I talk a lot,” Felicity said, shrugging one shoulder. Trying to sound dismissive, like it was no big deal.

“It’s more than that,” he said, his hand stroking along her arm. “You have a filthy mouth, Felicity. And it’s sexy as hell.”

“You think that was filthy?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. Grabbing at this chance to . . . she didn’t know. But suddenly, she wanted to show Frat Boy Oliver just how dirty her mouth was.

And not in a blow job kind of way. Which was a bit of a loss, but . . . maybe later.

Felicity pushed on Oliver’s shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Tossing her hair over her shoulders, she shifted to straddle his waist, leaning down to kiss him slowly. She sucked on his lower lip as she stroked the sides of his face.

“You think I was filthy earlier?” she asked against his lips, looking into his eyes. “I think you have no idea, Oliver. And I’m gonna show you. Just as soon as you take off these ugly shorts.” She sat up so she could reach his waist, tugging on one of his belt loops and watching as his eyes darkened.


Never had he been so glad to knock into someone in his life. Because if he hadn’t pushed Felicity over the keg, this wouldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t have this amazingly hot woman straddling him, telling him in a honey-sweet voice that she was going to talk dirty to him.

He was pretty sure he had never gotten his pants off as fast as he just did. Oliver tossed aside his shorts and looked up at Felicity, trying not to moan at having her warm, firm ass so close to his cock. If she just moved down a little, he could slide right inside her, right into her wet pussy . . .

Felicity leaned forward, her hands on either side of his head, and nipped his lower lip. “Are you thinking about being inside me, Oliver?”

Oh, fuck. Her voice should be illegal. It was all he could do not to start trembling, because now his cock was hard enough to pound nails and he really did want to be inside her.

“Y-yeah,” he got out, reaching for her hips and grabbing on to them. She was so damn curvy, it was like his hands were meant to rest on those gentle flares.

“Mmmm, yeah, I can tell,” she said, rolling her groin oh-so-slowly. Not quite grinding against him, but close enough for him to know it was gonna happen and he was ready for that. “I can already tell you’re nice and hard. Just from kissing--and making me scream with your mouth,” she murmured, pressing kisses against his lips between her words.

“Felicity,” he said, squeezing her.

She slowed her movements and he bit back a groan. Her eyes connected with his. “Stop holding on to my hips, Oliver.”

One of her hands slid down his arm and wrapped around his hand, lifting it from her hip. Then she brought it to her breast, her hand on top of his, showing him want to do. “This is where I want your hands,” she said, her voice breathy. “C’mon, Oliver. Show me what you’ve got.”

It was on. She was taunting and challenging and so crazy sexy that Oliver felt like he was losing his mind. And if he did lose his mind, it wasn’t going to happen until after this.

Surging forward, he slid his hand from her hip to her shoulder, applying pressure so her back arched. He kept his hand right where it was, sandwiched between her hand and one firm, plump breast, as he covered her other nipple with his mouth.

Felicity let out a soft sigh, her head tipping back as he sucked slowly, swirling his tongue against her nipple. “Oh, yeah . . . like your mouth, right there . . . harder, Oliver, harder.”

No woman had ever told him this much about what she wanted in bed. It was so fucking hot. So he sucked harder and then scraped his teeth over her nipple. Wanting to see what happened. He nearly groaned when she jerked, her groin pressing down hard against his and applying almost enough pressure against his dick.

“More--gimme a hickey, right on my tit, suck harder, Oliver. Bite me.” Felicity’s voice trembled a little as she spoke, as she told him just what to do to her. But he couldn’t bite her. Not really, although he let his teeth press lightly against her breast as he sucked even harder on her, his cheeks hollowing and his hands holding on to her tightly. She was starting to jerk against him, losing control, sweat running down her back, and he--he couldn’t do this anymore.

Oliver pulled his mouth away from her, and she let out this high-pitched whimper that made him grunt. “Felicity--” he said, not having to say anything more before she moved back, her soaking wet pussy now rubbing against his cock. “Oh, fuck,” he said, the word drawn out as his head fell back.

“God, you’re huge,” she said, leaning down and kissing him hungrily. “Can’t wait--wanna feel every inch of you inside me, Oliver, want you to fuck me so hard and so deep . . .”

Sliding his hand into her hair, he plunged his tongue into her mouth, licking her tongue. His other hand went down her back, grabbing her ass and holding her in place as he rocked up against her. Feeling his dick sliding slick and fast through her folds, rubbing against her and creating friction.

With the hand on her ass, he tilted her so that on his next stroke, his dick rubbed against her clit. She yanked her mouth away from his, breathing hard. Her face was flushed and her eyes were dark blue, staring down at him as he kept rolling his hips and rubbing against her.

“Oliver--Oliver--” she gasped, her voice barely audible over their panting breaths. “Condom, oh God, condom right the fuck now.”

Jesus, he wished there didn’t need anything separating them, but there was no way around it. Flailing out with one arm, Oliver reached into the drawer in the nightstand next to his bed, blissfully finding a condom nearly immediately and pulling it out.

Felicity grabbed it with shaking fingers and moved back, fumbling with the wrapper. Her fingers were slick with sweat and couldn’t gain purchase on the the shiny foil package.

“Here, I’ve got it,” Oliver said, sitting up and kissing her as he took the wrapped condom from her. She whimpered against his lips, and seeing her so wild, so desperate . . . Oliver suddenly realized his hands were shaking, too.

Somehow, he got the condom out of the wrapper and together, they rolled it onto his dick. Felicity gave him a weaker version of her challenging, cat-who-got-the-canary smile as they finished, her hand wrapping around him and giving him a quick stroke. “Oh, yeah, you’re gonna feel so good inside me,” she crooned, lifting herself up onto her knees.

“And you’re gonna feel fucking amazing around me,” Oliver got out, just before she began easing down on him.


The moment that Oliver’s cock slid inside her, Felicity was scared she was going to come. It was too soon--she didn’t want this to be over so quickly. She got too sensitive after a climax, she would stop enjoying the feel of his thick, throbbing dick inside her. And she wanted to enjoy every single second of this.

Because God damn, Oliver’s cock was fucking perfect.

“Oliver,” she moaned softly, her head falling back and her arms hanging limp at her sides. All she could focus on, at this moment, was keeping him inside her, keeping him still, until she had time to adjust.

“Felicity,” he growled, his voice going right through her. He hadn’t said much, just a few softly-muttered curses and quite a few repetitions of her name. The way he said it, the four syllables dripping off his tongue, made her so hot.

“So good . . .” she said, trembling with need and not sure what to do. Wanting this to last forever, wanting him to stay hard and fuck her to within an inch of her life. And at the same time, she didn’t know how much more she could take, her body feeling shivery and not her own, wanting to come just so she wouldn’t be in this strange place that she had never been to before.

Her eyes fluttered as Oliver leaned in and kissed her neck, then started sucking. His hips rocked against hers, moving slowly, not going very deep. Not going nearly deep enough.

“Talk to me, Felicity,” he said, his damp breath fanning over her ear. “Tell me what to do.”

Moaning, she slowly made herself look at him. Taking in his hair, flopping over his forehead. His face, flushed and sweaty. His eyes, filled with lust and need and yet something else, something different. Something she didn’t want to look at too closely.

“R-” Her voice cracked as she began speaking--because of all the talking she had done. Not from Oliver’s hands smoothing down her back, from her shoulders to her ass, in a gesture that was the dictionary definition of a caress.

“Roll me onto my back,” she finally got out. Oliver complied, both of them letting out soft needy sounds as the change in position let him get deeper.

“Oh, yes,” she muttered as he lowered his head to kiss her deeply, his hand tipping her head back and giving him the perfect angle to just plunder her mouth. To make her feel well and truly kissed for the first time in her life.

His hips were jerking against hers as the kiss ended due to lack of oxygen, and Felicity wrapped a leg around him. “Move. Nice and slow, let me feel every last inch of you . . . wanna feel you . . .”

God, he really listened to her. Because he didn’t take her order to move as carte blanche to just start slamming into her. No, Oliver pushed himself up on his forearms and somehow held on to his control enough to slide in and out of her slowly, pushing himself in so deep and drawing out nearly all the way.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” she said, looking up at him. She grabbed onto his shoulders, marveling at the play of his muscles as he kept thrusting. “I am so wet for you. Can you feel it?”

Oliver nodded, his jaw tight and his eyes never leaving hers. And there was that thing in his eyes again, that thing she didn’t want to see, so even though she wasn’t ready, she lifted her other leg to wrap around his hips.

She pressed her lips against his jaw, then nipped right underneath, enjoying the way he flinched in surprise. “So hot. So fucking hot,” she said, nuzzling his skin.

“Felicity,” he whispered as he kissed her, the sexiest kiss she had ever gotten, all open mouths and tongues, making her melt into the mattress and start rocking against him, meeting his thrusts.

His body trembled against hers and he let out one unconscious pounding thrust, sliding himself so deep inside her that Felicity knew that they couldn’t delay any longer.

And she didn’t want to.

“More,” she said, looking up at him. “Pound me into the mattress, Oliver. Make me--”

He didn’t let her finish her sentence. Pulling back, Oliver slammed into her, hard and deep and oh, God, so right. The head of his cock even glanced off some spot that made stars explode behind her eyelids.

The sounds that filled the room were loud: his grunts, her groans, the slapping of flesh together as they each chased their climax. But the harder they pressed against each other, the more desperate for release they each became. A release that seemed like it might never come.

Then, Oliver turned his head and nipped at her earlobe. “Talk, Felicity,” he said through gritted teeth.

She couldn’t help shuddering, couldn’t help feeling like she was about to fly apart. But it passed, leaving her so unbearably aroused, even with Oliver’s massive dick inside her, that she knew words were the only way she was going to get off.

And it looked like Oliver was like her.


Jesus, he had never been able to put off orgasm like this before. Felicity’s body was tighter and wetter and hotter than any woman he had ever been with, so he didn’t know how he hadn’t exploded within four thrusts.

But here he was, hovering right on the edge, wanting to fall over it so hard.

Wanting to fall only if Felicity was with him, though.

“Talk, Felicity,” he growled, in a voice he had never used before but one that seemed to really work for Felicity. Felicity: this amazing, challenging, fucking beautiful woman with the eyes of an angel and the mouth of a devil.

“Oh, you--g-spot, so good--there, Oliver, there, just like that, ohhhhhhhh yes!”

He slid one arm under her knee, lifting it higher and opening her up more. All the while, he was moving inside her, his dick acutely attuned to all the little flutters that moved up and down his length, to Felicity’s inner muscles clenching around him for a split-second and always making him think this was the moment she would come. And once she had, he would let go, too, and wish that he didn’t have to.

Because he wanted more than tonight with her, but he knew it was never gonna happen. So he was gonna make this night the best of her life.

So he focused on finding her g-spot, since he had already accidentally brushed up against it. And when he found it, when he saw Felicity’s eyes go wide and her moans increase in volume, it made up for all the times over the years when people had accused him of having no direction, no focus.

Oliver had focus. He just never had found anything worthy of his full and undivided attention. Not until now.

“Oliver, Oliver--don’t stop--oooooh, yeah, harder, press harder there, oh, like that, yes, yes yes--”

Felicity’s body was so tense against his--and nothing was as tense as her pussy. It nearly had a stranglehold on his cock, making him go more shallow in his thrusts so he wouldn’t lose the pace.

When her fingers gripped his shoulders, he knew she was close. She was so close, he bet, from the way she was just talking, random words falling from her lips in-between massive amounts of cursing. It made his dick twitch, even after all this.

And then her eyes went wide, locking onto his, and her walls clenched so hard around his cock, and in a high-pitched voice, she screamed.


She was climaxing, coming so hard that his own release was immediately triggered. And he came just as hard, feeling the condom fill so completely with his cum that Oliver, for a split-second, hoped some leaked out of the condom and just stayed inside Felicity. Stayed there, like he wanted to stay.

“Felicity!” he groaned out as his climax slowed and wound down, finally ending and leaving him feeling so utterly relaxed. Making him feel like he wasn’t Ollie Queen or Robert Queen’s son.

He was just Oliver and he had fucked--no.

No, this wasn’t fucking. It was making love.

How the fuck had that happened?

No. No, it wasn’t making love. It was just sex. Really hot, really amazing, really intimate sex, with a near-complete stranger who had eyes like the sea and the smartest mouth and something she was so scared of that she did everything she could to hide it.

But he had seen it in her eyes, seen what she was holding back even as all her dirty words fell from her lips.

Whoever she really was, Felicity was a mystery. A mystery that he wouldn’t get to solve. And that made him pull away, stumbling over to the bathroom in order to clean himself up. He wondered if she would still be in his bed when he left the bathroom, or if she would already be up, getting dressed and preparing to leave.

To his pleasure, she was asleep when he returned to his bed, the softest and sweetest snores escaping her.

Grinning for a moment, Oliver slowly climbed into bed and rolled against her, pressing his front against her back. In her sleep, she pressed back against him, and his whole body just relaxed. Suddenly unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Oliver let himself fall asleep.

When he awoke, there was light streaming in through the windows. From the sound of toilets flushing and doors opening and closing, he knew his frat brothers were starting to wake up.

And Felicity’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his morning wood, teasing him into a full erection.

Oliver moaned. “Felicity . . .” He opened his eyes and looked down at her, seeing her on top of his thighs, still naked, her eyes looking up at him.

“A little going-away present,” she said, her voice low and throaty and unbearably sexy. “And then we’re gonna go our separate ways and have good lives.”

Even though he was flying back to Starling City tonight, even though he had told himself he would try to get Laurel back this summer, even though he wasn’t coming back to Boston, he still opened his mouth to ask if she was sure.

As if she was reading his mind, Felicity broke eye contact and wrapped her lips around his cock again, cutting off anything he had to say.


It had been so clear what he was going to say. His eyes were all soft and warm and sleepy, his hair was sticking up and there were creases in the side of his face from the pillow. He was in that hazy, just-woke-up place where everything seemed dreamlike and possible.

He was going to do the romantic movie thing and ask if he could see her again. Take her out on a date. Wine and dine her, get more amazing sex, and see if maybe all this chemistry meant something more than just a good time in the bedroom.

Or maybe that wasn’t it at all. Maybe that was just what she was hoping he would say.

Felicity couldn’t bear the thought either way. So she wrapped her hand around the base of his cock, trying not to think her hand was no substitute for her pussy, and took him into her mouth slowly, until his head bumped against the back of her throat.

He moaned out her name, a litany of “Felicity” interspersed with the occasional curse and lots of groans and grunts. He was so responsive, so animated, so there.

It turned her on and made her reconsider leaving. At least not before another round or two. Didn’t she deserve to once again have his tongue swirling around her clit, his fingers sinking deep inside her? Wasn’t she entitled to ride him a second time, seeing if his eyes would ever leave her bouncing breasts as she took him as deep inside herself as possible?

No. Another round or two wouldn’t be enough. So better to make this about him, leave on a generous note, and go back to her original plans for the next two weeks. Even if those plans now seemed really boring.

What wasn’t boring? Oliver’s cock. She sucked and licked him, going slow and letting herself take her time. Oliver let her set the pace, the only sign of his slipping control being his hands gripping the bedsheets tighter the longer this went on. But it was all part of her plan.

As he got close, his hips started moving, and he began letting out these breathy moans. Sexy breathy moans. So sexy, Felicity wasn’t able to deal with her own body by squeezing her thighs together. No, she had to slid her hand between her legs and play with her clit as she picked up her pace.

But it didn’t mean anything that he came at nearly the same moment she did, and his cum was so intoxicatingly rich that she found herself swallowing, even though she normally spit after a blow job.

Felicity closed her eyes for a few minutes, letting her face rest against his firm, muscled abdomen, before she looked up at him.

Oliver was asleep, his long eyelashes resting on his cheeks--seriously, it was no fair guys got eyelashes like that--his whole body relaxed from a night of debauchery. It was a good look on Oliver.

And it was going to be her last image of him.

Moving quietly, she got dressed and headed for the door. But as her fingers touched the doorknob, she paused and looked over her shoulder.

She could stay. Stay right here and see what happened. But something inside her told her that if she did, it would all go wrong. After all, amazing sex wasn’t enough to make anything last. Better to leave and move on. Like she told him.

Squaring her shoulders, Felicity turned back to the door and pulled it open, just enough to slip out of Oliver’s room. Her feet louder than she would like on the hardwood floors, Felicity stepped through the hallways, moving slowly until she reached the stairs. And then she hurried down, not lingering, not straining to hear the sound of Oliver’s voice, not wishing he would call out her name and chase after her.

It was just sex.

Just the best sex of your life, her brain said.

Actually, you made love, her heart corrected.

But Felicity didn’t listen to either her brain or her heart. She just focused on walking towards the diner that was two streets away, the diner with the really good chocolate chip pancakes and the bottomless coffee.

Because before she could rejoin her life, she needed some time to adjust.

Oliver would be fine. And so would she.