A/N: So this is apparently what happens when I tell hopedreamlovepray I want to write something fluffy when she's had two beers on an empty stomach. She puts a dirty, dirty plot bunny into my head. And I ran with it.

I know technically this happens in a limo, not a Bentley, but give it to me, okay?

Hope you enjoy. This is totally NSFW!

"Felicity, I've been water-boarded before. Do you really think you can make me break?"

She gave him a slow smile, making sure the tip of her tongue snuck out to just run along the edge of her upper lip. Without taking her eyes off him, she addressed their driver who stood holding the back door to the limo open.

"Douglas, you got me what I wanted, right?" she asked breathily, causing Oliver's cock to twitch in response.

"Yes, Mrs. Queen I have the item that you requested." he replied with a careful, yet not completely hidden smug grin. Digg had stopped driving them years ago, especially to events that were for Oliver Queen, CEO.

"Excellent," she gave Oliver a wide, dazzling smile and spun on her heel, wobbling slightly, though she ineffectually batted his hand away when he tried to grasp her elbow for support. Instead she clung to the door frame and stared up at Douglas. "And you'll take the long way home, like we talked about?"

If she was trying to be quiet or subtle she was failing, but he didn't care. The gala was over, they were off superhero duty for the night, and he'd enjoyed watching the flush bloom across his wife's face as she tipped back glass after glass of champagne.

Before Douglas could speak Oliver scooped her up, careful to keep her head from bumping the side of the car as he slid her across the seat. "I'm sure whatever you've got planned doesn't need to be discussed in front of half of Starling City, dear." he leaned on the last word, loving how she laughed against him.

"Uh-oh, you only call me dear when you're being facetious." her giggles got the best of her, the high slit of her dress becoming rucked tight around her legs. He was grateful when the door slammed solidly behind them, the privacy divider already in place.

Felicity pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, struggling to sit up straight, mumbling under her breath as she attempted to put her dress to rights. But when he reached a hand up to undo his bow tie she slapped his hand away. "No sir. That's mine."

With a raised eyebrow he let himself lean back against the smooth leather seat, "Does this have something to do with your plans?"

"My plans? You mean where I promised I'd have you begging before we got home?" she asked as she turned towards him, surety lighting her eyes filling him with equal parts need and concern because she had the same look she got when she attacked her computers, and she never lost.

"Yeah, those plans," he said calmly, willing to let her have her fun. "So what's my part in all of this exactly?"

She slipped closer until she was kneeling on the seat next to him, the dim interior lighting casting enough of a low golden glow so he could see her. He forced himself not to react when she ran one hand lightly along his lapel, cool fingertips just brushing his neck when she tugged the end of the bow tie, causing it to fall open. "You don't have to do anything but sit back and relax."

"Is that all?" his voice dropped lower, a surge of satisfaction going through him when he saw her breath hitch and her hands faltered as she opened the top few buttons of his shirt.

"You're terrible at relaxing, Oliver. This will be very difficult for you."

She shoved his suit jacket off his shoulders but instead of letting her struggle he leaned forward, making sure to steal a kiss as he took it off the rest of the way before throwing it to land on the seat opposite them.

"See, you can't even make it two minutes." she chided with a pout that he wanted to erase with his lips.

"I'll behave," he promised, but she merely shot him a look, rolling her eyes.

"I may be a little bit tipsy right now, but I'm not stupid."

He raised his hands to show his compliance, shifting against the back of the seat as he got comfortable.

For the next several minutes she focused on undoing his suspenders and cuff links, then the remaining tiny buttons of his shirt. When she tugged the hem from the waist of his pants he didn't say a word, just lifted his hips until she had freed the fabric all the way.

Biting her lower lip she grinned at him through her lashes, palms flattening along his abs, running them all along the exposed flesh. He couldn't help the small twitch he gave when her nails raked lightly over his ribs and then up to cut purposely across his nipples.

Having sex in the back of a car wasn't new. They'd done it before, but not like this, not where she had all the control and he was expected to sit passively. His fingers spasmed, wanting and needing to reach for her, but she'd told him not to do anything and he was trying to listen.

"Lose the shoes," she directed as she moved to the other side of the seat, twisting so her back was to him. Brows drawing together in confusion he did as she asked, even being so bold as to toe off his socks as well.

His cock already strained against the tight fit of his pants. He could only hope her next plan would be to take those off him as well.

When she turned back she held a bottle of chilled champagne in one hand and a full flute of the bubbly liquid in the other.

She took a small sip, giving him another enigmatic smile over the edge of the glass, pausing as they took a corner before she made her way back over to him. "Hold this please," she handed him the bottle then slid her fingers into the top of his pants right where his suspenders hooked. His hips jerked north, his grip on the wet bottle almost slipping.

A short chuckle escaped her lips, "Not yet," she admonished, giving his pants a firm pull, "You need to scooch down some."

Confused, horny, intrigued, and more than ready for her to get to whatever she had planned he did as she asked, slumping down until he was twisted sideways on the seat, one elbow propping him up in a half reclined position.

"Much better." she declared with a satisfied look that made him feel oddly proud.

Then she took another sip and promptly spilled half the glass over his chest.

A sharp hiss of air left his lungs, as he pulled back from the unexpected shock.


There was no contrition in her tone though. Without another word she handed him the glass, "Here, we wouldn't want another mess. I'll clean this up."

Lust throbbed relentlessly through his veins as she slid to her knees on the floorboard and leaned forward, the heat of her tongue contrasting immediately with the cool liquid that was still rolling off his skin.

His jaw clanked shut so hard he heard his teeth meet, "Felicity-"

"I thought you said you'd been water-boarded, Oliver? This should be a piece of cake, right?"

As she spoke she slowly worked her way around his abs only using her mouth to make the champagne disappear. Every slow lap of her tongue had him calling on every bit of control he had to keep from dropping the bottle and putting his hands on her.

"It's your fault this is happening. You were using the salmon ladder last week, and you were just hanging there, abs all ripply and that crazy hip muscle that I love so much was just right there" her mouth found that exact muscle, fingers pulling the waist of his pants down some so she could nipp along the ridge, "And even though I can see it anytime I want, I just had this image of licking champagne off of you. I wondered if it would pool in all the divots and craters and…like right here."

He cursed low in his throat as she swirled her tongue just below his navel. "I was right."

She was trying to kill him. Not being able to touch her was worse than any torture he'd ever endured.

"Felicity…" her name came out strained, almost desperate, and he could have cared less.

Her head lifted, she'd somehow moved between his legs, one now resting along the seat, the other planted on the floor and the sight of her there was enough to send his eyes to the ceiling as he attempted to rein in some sort of composure.

"You're not giving in yet are you? There were other places I wanted to pour the champagne."

And with that she flicked open the button on his pants, palming his erection through the fine Italian fabric. He felt the delicate stem of the champagne glass begin to give, forcing him to loosen his grip.

His lips pressed together so tight they had to be white but he was determined to remain silent.

"Good," she whispered, the zipper going south and all he could do was breathe and raise his ass as she pulled pants and boxer briefs down together, the cool air of the car making his balls tighten.

She took her time pulling the clothes off one leg and then the other, while he tried to drag in one ragged breath after another. Her hands landed on the inside of each knee before slowly moving down towards his cock. He barely noticed when she slipped the champagne flute from his grasp.

At first it was one drop, just down the side of his cock, making him hiss and look down, but when just the tip of her pink tongue flicked out to catch it before it could reach the bottom he let his now free hand grip the edge of the seat. She'd already won. And she knew it.

He was hard and hot and ready, and when she poured the rest of the glass over him the noise that came from deep in his chest was almost unrecognizable.

Small licks began at his base, where most of the bubbly beverage had collected. She spent more than enough time making sure she got it all before she started to slowly work her way up his cock, sucking the sides, running her tongue along the underside, but never touching the tip.

He was aching, his cock dripping and it had nothing to do with the champagne. She ducked under and made her way up the other side, not missing a single drop. By the time she'd licked his entire cock clean except the head he was practically gasping, chest heaving. His entire world had narrowed down to doing whatever he had to do for her to give him relief.

She pulled back, licking her lips, "Oh look. I missed a spot."

Her head dropped and in an instant she'd sucked one of his balls into her mouth.

Oliver roared. Starlight bursting behind his eyes as he fought to not come right that second. A low heat filled his belly, his balls drawing tighter and tighter as she laved them, switching to the other, rolling it in her warm mouth.

She let go with a pop, going so far as to sit back on her heels, leaving him completely at her mercy. He fought for his legendary control, but found it had vanished. He'd been overrun by her and he couldn't be happier.


The wisest, most pleased grin he'd ever seen spread across her face, "Is there something you want to say?"

He fought only a moment longer, but when her small hand wrapped around him, just below the head of his cock he broke.

"Please!" he groaned.

Her mouth was around him before he'd finished. Hot, and wet, and perfect.

He was so close to the edge it only took her taking him down a few times before his fingers threaded into the fancy knot she'd put her hair into earlier that night. She hummed around him, grasping his hips as she took him deeper.

The tingle in his spine broke swiftly, racing up his spine. He got half her name out as warning but she just hollowed out her cheeks and sucked harder.

His mind blanked as pleasure roared through him. He tried to keep his pelvis from jerking into her mouth but it was impossible. She continued to suck until he was empty, his body limp and heavy.

She wiped a delicate finger across her lower lip as she sat back, hand bracing on his thigh as the car rocked forward and then back before the engine died.

"Told you I'd get you to break before we got home."

For a long moment he didn't have a comeback. She'd taken him totally by surprise. Even after years of being together she was still the center of his world and constantly amazed him.

Then he noticed her darkened eyes, the flush across her chest, the way her nipples were hard peaks beneath the thin material of her dress.

He sat up slowly, drawing her onto his lap. "You win, Mrs. Queen. But I think now it's my turn."

Her eyes widened, "Oh,"

His hand spanned her back, finding the zipper without searching, "There's still half a bottle of champagne left."