A/N: Although Mikka Von (Paula Patton) was only in half of one episode of S12 SVU (Wet), she and Stabler seemed to have incredible chemistry in their few interactions and I've been wanting to write a smut piece with the two of them for some time. This is an AU piece; Elliot has never been married, Olivia is the one with a husband and family.
Thanks to Christina for the suggestion for the handcuffs. ;-)
Please let me know what you think. I'm thinking that Stabler & Von might need to hook up a few more times before she heads back to her sun-drenched loft in Chicago...
Booty Call
"Stabler." Elliot barked into his phone. He was five minutes away from heading out the door and had hoped to escape on time tonight. It had been one long hell of a week and he wanted nothing more than to relax in front of the TV in his underwear with a cold beer. Olivia had left an hour earlier for a dinner with her in-laws; she had turned those big brown eyes on him and he had once again caved and agreed to do all of the paperwork. He really needed to learn how to say no.
"Hey, Stabler," said the sultry voice. There was no need for introduction, just the way she drew out his name announced that it was Mikka Von, the new A.D.A. who'd been fired that afternoon after less than a week on the job.
"Mikka," he said, trying not to sound surprised. He'd been disappointed when Cragen had informed her, on behalf of the District Attorney, that she'd been dismissed for trying an end run around the judge. It had been an error in judgment on her part, but an effective one that had bought them time to pursue their case. He liked her "take no hostages" attitude and thought she would have been interesting to work with in the long run.
"So, Stabler," she continued, again drawing out his name in a manner that caused an instant tightening in his groin, "since we're no longer co-workers, I wondered if you wanted to get together before I head back to Chicago in a few days."
"Uh, sure, when?" he asked, trying not to stammer. He found Von attractive, and thought he'd detected a spark of interest on her part as well, but her stay with SVU had been so brief there'd been no time to explore it.
"No time like the present," she laughed. "I'm staying at…." She gave him the details of her hotel. "Come on over whenever you can get away."
"Where do you want to go? Should I go home and change?"
Her seductive chuckle sent a flash of heat down his spine. "No need to dress up, Detective. I thought we'd stay in and"…a long, pregnant pause…."get to know each other a little better."
Elliot chuckled softly as he hung up. This was an unexpected but intriguing twist. Spending the evening with a beautiful, sexy and intelligent younger woman who was leaving town for good in a few days sounded a hell of a lot better than watching television alone. He finished up his last DD-5 and dropped it on Cragen's desk for review, then headed into the locker room for a quick shower and shave.
Munch came in just as he was tucking a clean shirt into a pair of jeans, both from the backup supply he kept in his locker. Sniffing the air appraisingly, he asked: "Cologne? Hot date again Stabler?"
Elliot laughed as he slipped his holster onto his belt and buckled it. "You overestimate my life outside of work, John." He said, picking up his badge and a pair of handcuffs and putting them into the pocket of his jacket. He'd been carrying all of this equipment for so long he felt naked without it, even off duty. A cop always needed to be prepared for running to an angry perp from a past arrest, or for stumbling across a crime in progress. It was part of the life.
"Details tomorrow please, my friend. I'll be anxiously waiting, as my own life is devoid of such activities at the moment." John said wryly as he walked toward the bathroom with a newspaper.
Still laughing, Elliot headed out of the precinct to his car. As he drove the short distance to the swanky hotel Von had named, he felt a stirring of excitement. He wasn't lying when he'd told John that his life outside of work was pretty tame; for the past few months, he'd been keeping close to home and not bothering to date. Maybe he was getting old, maybe he was just tired of the games, but more often than not, he preferred his own company. Getting what was essentially a booty call from a hot young babe might have been just what he needed to rouse him out of his ennui because he was feeling something he hadn't in a long time—anticipation.
Before he reached the hotel, he stopped at an upscale wine shop and bought an expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio. Von struck him as the type of woman who enjoyed the good things in life.
He parked in the garage attached to the hotel, wondering if Von could get the parking ticket validated so he didn't have to sell a kidney to get the car back out the next morning and then having a mental chuckle when he realized he was assuming he'd be spending the night. Get over yourself, Stabler, she'll probably kick your sorry ass to the curb when she's done with you!
Mikka had given him her room number but he stopped at the front desk anyway before heading to the bank of elevators. Hotels like this didn't take kindly to strangers wandering the halls and he wanted to be on someone's radar before going up. He wondered how an ADA had the money to stay in a place like this, even temporarily. She'd mentioned more than once how she had a "sun-drenched loft" back in Chicago on the market, although her sudden dismissal would be cancelling the need for that real estate transaction.
"Ms. Von is in room 813, sir," said the desk clerk, eying Elliot's casual attire with disdain. He resisted an urge to open his jacket wide enough to flash his gun. Oddly enough, that always seemed to garner instant respect.
He tapped lightly on the door and waited just a few seconds before he saw a shadow at the peephole and the door swung open.
"I thought you'd never get here, Stabler," said Mikka. She wore a pair of form fitting Capri length black pants topped by a silky white camisole. Her feet were bare. Elliot had only ever seen her dressed for court; this casual attire made her look years younger and he had a moment's pause What in the hell are you doing here, old man? before he handed her the bottle of wine.
"Had to finish up some paperwork," he told her. She turned the bottle over to read the label.
"Not bad," she said, impressed. "I didn't know you were a wine connoisseur."
"It's a requirement for the detective exam," he said with a deadpan expression. She laughed appreciatively and stepped aside, motioning toward the sitting area across the room. "
His cop eyes scanned the room as he crossed the floor, noting the king sized bed and catching a glimpse of what appeared to be a Jacuzzi through the half-opened door of the adjoining bathroom. It wasn't quite a suite, but neither was it a Motel 6. A small sofa and two chairs faced a wall almost entirely of glass, with doors that opened onto a balcony that overlooked the city. On a low table in front of the couch was an ice bucket with an open bottle of wine. Mikka took the bottle out and turned it to show Elliot that it was the same label he had just handed her.
"You've got good taste," she laughed. He liked her wide smile and the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she laughed. He watched as she poured a glass for him and topped off the one she'd evidently been drinking before he arrived. As she bent to put the bottle back in the ice and make room for the he had a fine view of her tight behind and felt a stirring in his groin. It had been awhile.
"Are you going to take off your coat and stay for awhile, Stabler? "She teased, turning and catching him staring at her ass. Her smile broadened as she took her glass to sit on the couch and curled her bare feet up under her. She patted the spot next to her. "I won't bite.
"Are you ever going to use my first name?" he asked. He took a sip of the chilled wine, which was very good, even to a confirmed beer drinker like himself. Setting the glass down on the table, he slipped his jacket off. Von's eyes widened when she saw his gun.
"Are you expecting to have to defend yourself?" she asked with a look of amusement. He unbuckled the holster and set his gun, along with his badge and handcuffs, on top of his coat in one of the arm chairs.
"I like to be prepared," he said with a smile. "I hear girls from the Windy City can be pretty aggressive."
She tossed back her head and laughed in delight, a move that exposed her neck. Her skin was the color of heavily creamed coffee and he had a sudden desire to tongue the length of her neck to see how she tasted.
"Don't worry, I won't hurt you-much." She grinned at him from the other side of the couch and slid one of her bare feet across the short distance between them to rest against his leg. He took the hint and put one broad hand on her ankle, sliding it up to the hem of her pants. Her legs were one of the first things he had noticed about her when she strode into the precinct, full of sass and attitude. Her toes were painted a pearly pink with swirls of white and he traced his thumb across the surface.
"Fancy," he commented with a wry smile. "Can I ask you a question?"
She tipped her head to the side, appraising him. Again, a great view of the long café-au-lait neck; he'd always found himself turned on by the less obvious aspects of a woman's body: neck, ankles and the dip at the back of a waist. He shifted a little on the couch as he felt his cock begin to respond in appreciation. "Are you going to interrogate me, Detective?"
He laughed. She was a piece of work. "How old are you, Mikka?"
Again, she gave him an appraising look. "Does it matter?" At his raised eyebrow, she gave a soft a laugh. "I'm thirty-one, old enough to know what I want."
He nodded. He hadn't been quite sure. With less makeup and casually dressed, she could easily pass for her early twenties, but to be an experienced attorney, she had to be a little older than that. Thirty-one was good. At least he wasn't old enough to be her father.
"And quid pro quo, Detective-how old are you?" Again, she gave him a wide smile that crinkled the corners of her dark brown, almost black eyes and caused him to shift in his seat again.
"Forty-seven," he told her, gauging her reaction. She didn't appear to be put off and he heaved a mental sigh of relief. To be sent packing now would be a more than a little disappointing.
She picked up his left hand from his leg and held it in her own, palm up, circling his ring finger with her index finger. "The scuttlebutt at the station is that you've never been married."
"You were asking about me?" he said in surprise. Von had been with them for less than a week. She'd evidently been busy in that short amount of time.
"Oh, you know," she said vaguely. "Girls talk. Why? Why didn't you ever marry?"
He shrugged. "This job isn't a very good fit with marriage."
"Your partner has a family." She observed.
"And I've seen how hard it's been for her to juggle both. That's not for me."
She nodded and began to trace slow circles in the palm of his hand with one long manicured nail. "Lucky for me, I guess."
He took another sip—a big one –of wine. He wasn't quite used to a woman being so direct; there was nothing subtle about Mikka Von. He realized he would have to make a decision and soon—either he wanted to assert some control over the situation, or sit back and enjoy the ride. As he sipped, he decided on the latter. As a single man, he'd spent enough time pursuing women. It might be nice to be on the receiving end for a change.
Mikka set her own glass of wine down on the table next to her and slid across the couch to Elliot. She gracefully maneuvered herself until she was facing him with her back to the window behind them. She placed one open palm on his chest and looked him straight in the eye.
"We're both adults here, Elliot," Hearing her finally say his first name in that sultry voice sent another flash of heat along his spine. He held her gaze, noticing the flecks of gold in her dark eyes. She was a very beautiful woman. "I think we both know what we want. Shall we have some fun?"
He nodded, dry-mouthed and watched her face as she began to slowly open his shirt, one button at a time, all the while looking into his eyes. When the shirt was open to his waist, she slipped her hand inside and began stroking his chest with slow, circling motions, her fingers brushing against his nipples which were growing as hard as his cock. He felt like a teenager. As she bent her head to kiss him, he slipped a hand behind her long, straight dark hair to cup the back of her neck and pull her closer. Her lips were soft and full and her tongue darted out to meet his.
"Mmmm…." She said in a husky whisper, her breath warm against his mouth. "I've wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you at the precinct. And then, when you came to help me with the press at the courthouse today, well, I just knew I had to have you."
Elliot was beginning to feel like a hunted animal, but he wasn't about to lodge a complaint. With his hand still at the back of her neck, he leaned forward and began kissing along the length of her neck, darting his tongue out to moisten the trail. She smelled and tasted as exotic as she looked. Mikka closed her eyes and tipped her head back, allowing him access and a chance to watch her. There was a dark flush spreading on her chest above her camisole and her breathing had quickened.
After a minute or two, she lazily opened her eyes and pushed him back against the sofa. He leaned back and watched as she pulled the tails of his shirt out of his jeans and pushed it off his shoulders. When she caught sight of the crucifix tattoo on his upper arm, she practically cooed with delight.
"Surprises," she murmured, bending to moisten the outline with her tongue. Elliot couldn't wait for her reaction to the butterfly on his hip. As she played with his tattoo with her tongue, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She quickly moved to straddle him and he almost regretted his action when her weight settled onto his cock, hard and already uncomfortable confined within his jeans. She wiggled for a minute, enjoying his obvious discomfort, and then to his incredible relief, reached down to his waist to unbuckle his belt. She paused to rub her hand along the length of his erection through his jeans.
"I knew you'd be big," she sighed, a small smile playing across her face. "A girl can tell."
He wasn't about to debate the point as she unzippered his pants and freed him with a broad smile as her statement was confirmed. Wanting to equalize the playing field a bit, he reached for the hem of her camisole and pulled it over her head with one swift movement. The bra she wore underneath was little more than a few slips of lace; it took only a second to undo the front clasp and send it flying to the floor along with her top.
Her breasts were exquisite, small but perfectly formed, with dark aureole and small rosy nipples. He bent his head and teased each into a hard point with his tongue. Mikka gave a contented sigh and stroked the back of his neck with languid fingers.
It was getting awkward, two semi-clothed adults on a small couch, trying their best to explore uncharted waters with limited success. "Shall we move?" Elliot suggested, nodding his head toward the king sized bed on the other side of the room.
Mikka smiled, sliding off his lap and holding out her hand. Elliot kicked off his shoes and socks and slipped out of his jeans as he stood and followed her across the room. As she passed the armchair where he'd emptied his pockets, she bent swiftly and picked up something with a metallic clink. His cop instincts kicked into gear for just a second as he thought she was going for his gun, but when she dangled his handcuffs in front of him, he relaxed. Until she said, with a mischievous grin, "These could be fun."
After years of investigating sex crimes, dominating women was not something Elliot found even remotely stimulating. "No," he said softly, reaching for the cuffs. "You don't want me to use those on you."
"On me?" she laughed, a tone like the tinkle of wind chimes, holding the cuffs behind her back. "I was thinking of using them on you, Detective!"
He reached for the cuffs again. "I don't think so," he said with an uneasy chuckle. He was beginning to feel more than a little out of his league here. Why had he stopped seeing that nice receptionist from the dentist's office again? Because she was boring, he thought. But this is a whole other story…
Mikka pointed toward the bed and headed toward the bathroom, still holding the cuffs. "Make yourself comfortable, Elliot. I'll be right back."
He turned down the white silk duvet and blankets and stretched out on the bed, folding his hands behind his head as he watched for her to return. It was a sink or swim moment. Part of him was more than a little intrigued to see what she had in mind; the rest of him was screaming at the thought of being so not in control of a situation. He glanced behind him at the headboard of the Mission-Style bed and tested one of the slats. Not too sturdy, he could break one if he had to. Am I really considering this? Christ, Stabler—you're turning into a dirty old man!
Feeling apprehensive was not doing much for his recently thriving erection. He slid his hand down and began stroking himself as he waited for Mikka to return, trying to think about anything but those handcuffs. A moment later, she came out of the bathroom without warning. The sight of him in mid-stroke put another broad grin on her face. To his dismay, he saw she was no longer carrying just his pair of handcuffs, but a second pair as well.
"Getting the party started without me, Ell-i-iot?" she teased. The way she drew out the syllables of his name, combined with the sight of her totally nude body, all tawny skin with just a thin strip of dark hair visible between her legs brought his cock right back to life. He was embarrassed that she'd caught him stroking himself, but too proud and stubborn to show it, so he continued with a few slow, measured movements, all the while holding her gaze.
Totally comfortable with her nudity, she strolled over to the bed and stood next to him, dangling the handcuffs.
"Where'd you get the second pair?" he asked, pulling himself to a sitting position against the headboard. They were clearly police-issue cuffs, not the imitations sold in sex shops.
"Oh, I've got cop friends back in Chicago, "She said vaguely, sitting down next to him on the bed. "So what do you think, Stabler? You up for a little strange?"
He met her gaze. Part of him wanted to run from the room at the thought of giving up that much control to another person but another part wanted to show this gorgeous young babe that he wasn't a stuffy old fart.
She read the hesitation on his face. "We'll use a safe word," she assured him. "If it gets too be too much for you, you say the word and I'll take them off."
Too much? What the hell does she have him mind? He shook his head in amusement at her. "You've done this before?"
"I'll admit, it's one of my favorite fantasies," she told him, reaching out a hand to his hard chest. She followed the line of dark hair that tapered down to below his abdomen, her hand absently brushing against his erection. His cock throbbed in response. "What do you say, hmmm? Our safe word could be… "enough"…does that work for you?"
He hesitated, and the reluctantly nodded. She rewarded him with another one of those broad smiles that showed her perfect white teeth and leaned in to give him a kiss full of tongue. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he fought a groan. He sincerely hoped he could last long enough to fulfill her fantasy role.
She flipped a cuff open and gently placed one end against his wrist and closed it, being careful not to make it too tight. "Better scoot over to the middle of the bed," she advised. He complied, and slid down on his back as she raised his arm up over his head and snapped the other end around a slat. He wondered idly if she chose her hotels based on the style of furniture in the rooms.
"How about just one?" he suggested as she reached for the other arm to repeat the procedure. This was starting to seem really weird. He was as aroused as he'd ever been, but also starting to feel a sense of panic.
"Ell-i-ot" she scolded, moving so that she was straddling him. The thin strip of hair between her legs tickled against his stomach and he unconsciously raised his hips so that his cock brushed against her perfect ass. "Go big or go home, that's what I always say."
He laughed in spite of himself and didn't protest as she fastened the second cuff. She sat back on her heels, lightly resting on his upper thighs.
"There, that's not so bad, is it?" she asked with that tinkling laugh. She leaned forward so that her body was laying lightly over his. Her breasts settled against his chest and his rock hard erection was trapped between their bodies. He shook his head, not sure that he was capable of speech right then. She gave him another wet, probing kiss, then began working her way down his body, pressing moist kisses along his neck, collarbone and chest. Her tongue darted out to explore his nipples and then he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. He lifted his hips to bring his aching cock into more direct contact with her body, but she kept herself just that much above him that all he got was a fleeting brush.
Her lips and tongue continued down his flat abdomen with a playful dip into his navel before moving lower. When she caught sight of the butterfly tattoo on the front of his hip, she looked up at him, grinning.
"You're full of surprises, Stabler." She used to her tongue to give this second tattoo the same treatment she had the first. Her long dark hair was covering her face and he wished now for a free hand to lift it so he could watch as she rubbed her cheek softly against his cock before giving it an exploratory lick along the underside.
"Ah…Mikka…" he mumbled when she took him into her mouth, running her tongue around the edge of the sensitive head before bending her head to fully engulf as much of his length as she could manage. As erotic as it was to be the one being serviced, it was killing him to not be able to touch her. She looked up at him, dark eyes dancing with laughter as she continued to apply up and down pressure with her lips and tongue. The sight of her full lips smiling around his thick cock was almost enough to send him over the edge and he fought to for control, turning his attention to look helplessly at his wrists chained to the headboard.
He'd put restraints on plenty of suspects and had one cuff on himself as well on more than a few occasions when the need for security was high, but this was a totally different experience. Even though the cuffs were loose, he was reminded of their presence every time he moved and the metal bit into his wrists. He forced himself to lay still and watch the top of her bobbing dark head, willing himself not to come yet.
Just when he thought he was going to explode despite his intentions, she lifted her head and smiled up at him, licking her lips. "Enjoying yourself, Elliot?" she purred.
"Come here," he said with a hoarse whisper. He wanted to kiss those lips, to taste himself on her.
She moved her way up his body and obliged him. "Care to return the favor?" she asked and when he nodded his assent, she raised herself so that her moist center was poised over his mouth. He tipped his chin up and darted out his tongue to explore her depths. Mikka gave a moan of contentment and put her hands on the headboard to steady herself as he did the best he could manage given his limited mobility.
"I want to touch you," he said after a minute, rattling one hand cuff against the bed to get her attention. She looked down at him with hooded eyes.
"You're doing just fine," she said, her voice sounding strained. "Don't stop, please don't stop,"
He renewed his efforts, alternating long licks with a circular motion and a flick of the tip of his tongue against her sensitive clit. Her heavy breathing told him he was on the right track and after a few minutes he felt her stiffen and moan as she clasped the headboard and road out the waves of an orgasm.
"Uncuff me?" he asked when she composed herself and looked down at him with a satisfied smile. He wanted to hold her, run his hands through her long hair, flip her over and drive into her until he felt his own release. He ached with the need to be inside her.
"Not quite yet," she said softly. She slid back down, leaving a moist trail where her wet folds met his body. She rubbed herself against his aching hardness, causing him to groan and close his eyes briefly as she reached across him to the bedside stand to retrieve a condom.
"You're prepared." He smiled weakly at her, moistening his dry lips with his tongue as she opened the foil packet with her teeth and tossed it aside. He stashed a few in the pocket of his jeans, but in his haste to get on with their activities, had neglected to bring them over to the bed. He was glad he hadn't needed to bring it up, nothing like a belated discussion of safe sex to squash the romance right out of a moment, but he'd seen too much in his years a member of the "Sex Police" to ever go unprotected.
"A regular Girl Scout, that's me." She quipped. She made the act of putting the condom on as erotic as she did everything else, taking her time as she slowly unrolled it over his length, stroking him with her finger and thumb closed in a circle to move the latex into place.
When she finally straddled his hips and took his cock in her hand to position him at her entrance, he wanted to give a shout of relief. Finally! She took her time, smiling mischievously at him as she so slowly eased down his length. He gave a satisfied groan when he was at last fully inside her, feeling his balls in contact with her firm behind.
"That feels sooo good," he told her. She said nothing, but held his gaze with her dark eyes, leaning forward and resting her hands on his shoulders as she began to move up and down, rotating her hips. He thrust up to meet her. It was mind bogglingly frustrating to not be able to use his hands, but it also forced him to find other ways to make contact. He turned his head to kiss and lick at the insides of her wrists on his shoulders as she brought him to a blissful explosion of a climax with a guttural moan that the desk clerk in the lobby could probably hear.
"Enough!" he exclaimed when he finally caught his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such an intense climax, but he'd had enough of being confined. He wanted to be back in and a part of this game. She laughed in delight and still holding him tight inside of her, reached for the bedside drawer again.
"Hmm, now where did I leave those damn keys?"