Don't own em.
Special Victims Unit
Some Street In Manhattan
12:30 P.M.
Elliot sat at his desk, waiting for his partner to show up.
Where the hell is she? He thought to himself, she was never this late.
When she walked in, he realized why.
Olivia was wearing a white halter top, and black shorts.
Her shirt was just short enough to let that little sliver of tan, toned skin peep out.
Every strand of her hair was perfectly in place, and her make-up was impeccable.
She was beautiful. No, she was beautiful every day, even in her black slacks, tee-shirt, and jacket, no, today she was stunning. He didn't have to look at her to know, though. His growing friend was also letting him know. It was actually beginning to become uncomfortable straining against his jeans.
He pulled at his collar, hoping she wouldn't notice. Someone had to have turned on the heat in here right? No, he knew what was making him so hot and bothered, it was the brunette goddess that was walking towards him, swinging her hips ever –so-slightly, but much more that was usually necessary. She was doing it on porpoise. That smirk on her face gave it away.
Oh, I could do so many things to her that would make that smirk go away.
No, Elliot. That's Olivia. Your PARTNER, which makes her off limits.
But you know what? I don't give a rats ass. It's her own damn fault that she comes waltzing in here looking like that.
He was fighting with himself. He was fighting to keep the growl that was threatening to escape him away. He lost that battle.
"See something you like, Stabler?"
"Uh, well, uh, what are you talking about?" Yeah, way to sound like your WEREN'T staring. Way to go.
"Oh, nothing. Hey, look, I found something in this McCleary file, why don't you take a look?" What's the harm in that right? Get back to work, and take your mind off Olivia. That should get this throbbing erection to go down. Wrong. Of course, she leaned over her desk, resting on her forearms so he could look at the file, but he didn't even know what the file said after five minutes of "reading" it. No, he couldn't peel his eyes away from her taunting cleavage, threatening to spill out, right there, in front of him. So much for him cooling off. He was just warming up. She sat back in her chair, and fanned herself with the file. She was just adding fuel to the fire that was burning in Elliot's pants, and she new damn good and well what she was doing.
"Hey, It's burning up in here. You want a popsicle?" She asked as she hopped up on the corner of his desk, her taunting legs were so close.
"Uh, no thanks. I'm alright." He mumbled. The throbbing pain was getting to be too much. He needed relief.
Olivia returned with her popsicle, and sat at her desk, leaned back in her chair with her long, tan legs crossed. She slowly opened the wrapper, and slid the cherry pop into her mouth, in and out, in and out, slowly, smoothly twisting it. In, out, in, out. She pulled it all the way out, licked her lips, and then slowly dragged her tongue up to the tip, and licked around the tip, and slid it ever-so-slowly back into her mouth. Not taking her eyes off him at all. He was mesmerized by this. He was about the rigidity of a steel two-by-four. This was getting unbearable. He rolled up the cuffs of his sleeves, unable to take the heat anymore. She knew EXACTLY what she was doing, and oh, was she going to pay.
He watched as she finished off the popsicle, and she tossed the stick into the trash. She licked her lips one last time, before turning to her computer.
"Olivia, cribs, NOW." It came out as a growl.
"Elliot?" She asked all innocently, innocent my ass. About as 'innocent' as every perp who walked through here.
"NOW."
She walked towards the stairs, and he was not far behind her. As she climbed the stairs, he couldn't help but stare at her ass, perfectly outlined by her taunting shorts. She had done it this time.
She walked into the cribs, and he followed, locking the door behind him. She was leaned against one of the beds, smirking at him.
"You want to tell me what the FUCK you think you're doing?" He growled at her.
"What am I doing?" She looked at him innocently.
He advanced towards her, pushed her down onto the bed, and their lips met, in a fierce, but gentle way. She groaned in response, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, while shoving her tongue into his mouth. Her mouth was still cool from the popsicle, and she tasted like cherry, but something else, something that he couldn't describe, but he couldn't get enough. She tugged at his shirt, and he sat up, breaking the kiss, causing them both to whine in protest, and he pulled it off. He pulled her back into another bruising kiss, and everything around her began to fade. All she thought about was him. She started to unbutton his pants, and the immediate relief of his ready-to-burst erection was incredible. She wrapped her hands around him, stroking slightly. He could not take it anymore. He was going to make a fool of himself if she didn't stop. He didn't want to come, before he even started. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. When he thought she understood, he let go, but she put them back where they were. He growled and nipped her lip, causing her to cry out in pain, good pain. He pinned her arms over her head again, and this time, she complied.
He tugged her shirt over her head, and had to catch his breath when he saw what was before him. She wasn't wearing a bra,
"Oh…my…fucking…god, your incredible." He scrubbed his hand over his face. He had to control himself. She didn't respond, instead she grabbed him again, pulling back into a kiss. Their bodies were rubbing together, and he didn't know if he could take it. He kicked his pants the rest of the way off, and began on her shorts. He was so anxious, he had a hard time getting them unbuttoned. She reached down, unbuttoned them, and kicked them off. She had on a little scrap of lace, that couldn't even be considered underwear, but they didn't stand a chance. Elliot had them into shreds in 2.5 seconds.
"Tell me when you're ready." He growled into her ear, biting at her lobe.
"Ready." She gasped as he ran his fingers through her folds. She was defiantly ready for him.
He eased his way into her, he didn't want to hurt her, because well, he was quite endowed.
"Quit being a baby, I can handle it." Elliot didn't need any more persuasion. With one quick thrust, he was in her.
She let out a gasp, and he looked at her with worry on his face.
"No, keep going, it's just…been a while."
He picked up his pace, while kissing up and down her neck, nipping, and then soothing with his tongue. She was clawing his back, but he didn't feel pain. Her eyes were closed, and her head was thrown back, and he was in pure denial.
There is no way in HELL I am having sex, no, making love to Olivia Benson. Wake me up someone.
He could feel her tensing around him, and he whispered into her lips,
"Let go baby. Just let go."
She smiled, closed her eyes, and came. She shivered and writhed under him. She sank her teeth into his neck to keep from screaming, because god forbid, Munch or someone would hear them. The sheer feeling of her coming around him pushed him over the edge. That was the single most sexy thing Olivia has ever heard. She moaned again as he filled her, and he moved to pull out.
"You make one more move and you're a dead man."
He took the warning, and they laid like that for a while as they both recovered. He kissed her sweetly, and she whimpered as he sat up.
They both got dressed, and walked around until they were presentable enough to go back downstairs.
"Liv, you know I can't just make love to you and walk away. I don't want this to be a one time fling."
"I wasn't expecting it too." She smiled at him, as he wrapped his arms around her. She leaned up and kissed him, as he combed his fingers through her hair.
They finally calmed down enough to go back downstairs. They sat at their desks, and Olivia grinned at him,
"You know, it's pretty warm in here. You want a popsicle?"
"Not a chance, and you my dear, are not getting one either, or I promise you, you won't be able to walk back down here."