Four months. Each more frustrating, infuriating and tempting as the last.
Pushing through his 100th crunch, Elliot collapsed against the cold floor, a burning yet satisfying relief. His muscles ached, thankful for the distraction.
He was a grown man, a grown fucking man. He should know better and he should have more self-control. Four months since the finalisation of his divorce. It was like that date flicked a switch. Igniting a yearning for something, someone, he knows he can't have.
Someone. Not just someone. Her. Olivia.
They've always had chemistry. From day one. Never acted upon, of course. As their friendship grew, so did the lingering looks, the small touches, the acts of comfort when she needed it.
Now, the urge was just uncontrollable. She had dominated his mind, his thoughts and more frequently, his dreams.
Turning the water on, he ran his hands over his fatigued muscles. One benefit of having extra time to himself, he'd gotten back into his usual exercise routine. He'd always found the time to take care of his body, but the stress of the divorce, and a busy work period had seen him slip out of the routine. Grabbing the soap he began to lather up.
He let his thoughts wander. He knows he shouldn't. He's been good lately, his thoughts of her had been kept to a minimum. Silently justifying the reward to himself, he remembers her smell. That all-encompassing smell that is purely Olivia Benson. Spicy, sweet and intoxicating. He remembers the first time he smelt her perfume. She had merely walked past him to grab a cup of coffee. He also remembers the way his dick twitched, almost uncontrollably when her scent invaded his senses.
Almost in the same way he twitched now.
He couldn't help himself. Breathing a sigh of frustration, he reached down, firmly stroking his half-mast member. His thoughts of her always made him unbelievably hard. As he slowly began to move against his hand, picking up a firm and steady rhythm. He thought of her in the shower, what it would be like to watch her. Naked, wet, flushed skin from the heat of the water. He imagined smooth, lightly tanned skin, long silky legs, a tight body, and those breasts. She had great tits. Nothing got him harder than picturing her leaning back into the hot spray of the shower, washing her hair off as she exposed her sensitive throat, soapy bubbles flowing over her breasts, over the perfectly pink perky nipples just begging to be worshiped.
He gripped his cock tighter and stroked never lasted very long when he pictured her like that, it was his favourite fantasy. Ravishing her in the shower. Olivia Benson was the ultimate wet dream.
Are you just going to stand there Elliot? You're not going to leave me here hot, wet and horny are you? I've waited a long time for this.
Fuck, Elliot. My pussy is so wet, just thinking of having you deep inside me, and you haven't even touched me yet.
Oh yeah, he loved his Fantasy Olivia. Trademark raised eyebrow, a smouldering stare, dark lust filled eyes and one hell of a dirty mouth.
I can't wait to taste you Elliot. I can't wait to wrap my lips around you and please you with my mouth. I bet you taste fucking amazing. You want me to suck your cock, Stabler? You're going to love watching me go down on you. But you're going to have to wait a little bit longer.
Come over here, Detective. Make me cream.
Fucking hell. That always made him come undone. Leaning back against the shower wall, he braced himself. His firm, persistent grip bringing him over the edge. Cursing her name on a groan as he came violently.
Cleaning up and shutting off the water, Elliot grabbed a fresh towel and wrapped it around his waist.
Christ, he needed that release. She'd kick his ass into next week if she knew what he was thinking while he got himself off. That was part of the thrill. Although, sometimes it was hard to look at her first thing the next morning without imagining her in the compromising positions he'd fabricated for her.
Making his way to the bedroom, he froze in the hall. He didn't remember leaving the kitchen light on, or the fridge open.
Grabbing his gun from behind a safety spot in the cupboard, he approached the kitchen. Weapon positioned, he spun the corner, ready to confront an unwanted visitor.
"Do you greet all your midnight visitors like this Elliot?"
Jesus. What the hell was she doing in his apartment at 12.30am? And how long had she been here? Long enough to hear him in the⦠Fuck.
"Liv, what the hell are you doing. I could have hurt you."
She grabbed the milk from the fridge, adding it to her travel mug. "Sorry, El. Cragen called, we have a case. I did try to call you a few times. When you didn't answer, I decided to come around. I used my key. You were in the shower when I walked in. Figured I'd make us coffee while I waited."
"Uh, thanks. How long have you been here?"
"Long enough." She flashed her rarest smile. Oh yeah, she'd heard him. "Maybe you should go grab some clothes, El. That towel isn't leaving much to the imagination."
"See something you like, Benson?" He leaned against the door frame. It wasn't very often she played into his flirting, it was worth a shot.
"You know," She began as she grabbed her coffee cup and sauntered over to him. "I've always had a weakness for a man with a pair of handcuffs, Elliot."
"Oh, why does that not surprise me? I always figured you'd want to be the dominant one." He had a chuckle to himself. Of course she would.
Cocking that famous eyebrow, she smirked. "What makes you so sure I don't want to be the one handcuffed?"
Damn. He knew it was a bad idea to start this game.
Elliot excused himself and retreated back to the bedroom. Putting on a clean set of clothes, he willed himself to calm down. They had a case, he was going to have to focus.
Heading back out, Olivia handed him is coffee.
"Come on, Elliot. We have to get moving." She slid up close to him, just as he was about to open the front door.
"We can talk about your little shower adventures later." She said, placing a hand on his chest, sliding it down to rest of his belt buckle. Looking up into his eyes, he could see a playful glint dancing behind them. "Every. Little. Detail. I think it's about time you put your money where your mouth is."
Holy crap. It was going to be a long night.
