It's a one-shot...for now.

Happy Holidays!


Wednesday Welcome

"Sergeant Benson, good evening," the man said as he held the door open. "Get anything good at the grocery?"

Olivia was grateful for the help getting inside—she only had two bags, but the wind was picking up and the temperature was going down, and her hands were frozen.

"Frostbite, maybe," she laughed, looking down at her fingers.

"Getting cold out there for sure," Michael agreed. "No car today?"

The doorman was a friendly presence who greeted Olivia more often than not when she arrived home; she'd never lived in a building with a doorman before she moved in with Alex—thought they were a bit pretentious, really—but it made her feel good to know that someone was keeping a benevolent eye on their comings and goings. They signed for packages, called Olivia when strangers lingered a bit too long outside the building and buzzed up to let Alex know when reporters were hanging around. They'd always taken good care of her wife, really, but now that she was the D.A., they'd become even more vigilant.

"I parked when I came home and then walked straight over to Gristedes," she explained. "It's just a little more blustery than I thought, I guess."

"They deliver, you know," Michael said. "You should take care of yourself. No need to be running around in weather like this."

"I don't seem to plan ahead enough to get things ordered," Olivia said. "I just get an idea in my head and off I go."

"I know what you mean," the doorman nodded. "Gonna make dinner for Ms. Cabot?"

"I'm certainly going to give it a go," Olivia said. "She works too hard, you know. When I can get home before her and she doesn't have a dinner or event, it's a special occasion."

Michael smiled. "Well, I hope she makes it home soon then, Sergeant Benson. You two have a nice evening." He helped her into the elevator and pressed the button that would deposit her at her front door.

Twenty seconds later, the door slid open and she was surprised to see her apartment door ajar, and a beautiful blonde attorney leaning against the doorjamb.

"Well, well, well…" she said, pausing while her gaze traveled slowly from Alex's eyes, down her body and all the way back up before she spoke again. "This is a pleasant surprise. Come here often?"

"Not nearly often enough." Alex's voice was husky, and Olivia didn't think it was because she was tired.

"I can fix that," she offered. "Hope you weren't waiting here long."

"I've been home about an hour," Alex explained. "But I've only been in this doorway for about 15 seconds."

"Your timing is impressive."

"I have informants in the lobby, honey. My Christmas tips are always generous. And don't even think about trying to co-opt them, either. They love you, Liv, but they're loyal to me."

Alex opened the door wide and stepped aside to allow her wife to pass with the groceries.

"The cold air is still coming off of you, baby," Alex said. She closed the door and followed Olivia toward the kitchen. They quickly put the refrigerated items away, and as Alex turned to deal with the rest of the groceries, she found herself in Olivia's arms, her mouth immediately covered with a warm, soft kiss. She wrapped her arms around Olivia's neck and briefly felt a chill. It didn't last long—their bodies pressed together generated heat that Alex desperately needed, both inside and out.

Olivia's warm tongue slowly explored Alex's willing mouth, the kiss somehow relaxed and urgent at the same time, before breaking the contact to nip and lick along Alex's jaw and down the side of her neck. Alex shivered.

"Oh, honey," Olivia whispered. "You're cold. I'd better get you into a warm bed." She punctuated every word with a kiss or bite of her wife's fair skin.

"No," Alex moaned.

"No?" Olivia was surprised, but continued her explorations, settling briefly on the small valley just behind Alex's earlobe, breathing in a smell that was so unmistakably Alex that her knees almost buckled: faint perfume, soap, shampoo, warm skin.

"No bed. I need you now." Alex gasped as Olivia bit her earlobe.

"I was going to make you dinner," Olivia protested, pulling back to look at her wife, a sexy smile betraying the feeble objection for exactly what it was—a tease.

"You still are. After I have you."

Alex's low voice and the look she always got when she was aroused combined to work their magic on Olivia. She was wet—she could feel it-and suddenly very, very needy.

"Anything you want," she whispered.

"You're damn right." Alex was in charge, and it was incredibly sexy. Olivia had planned a slow seduction tonight, with wine and food and music. That would clearly have to wait. Alex was already taking Olivia's clothes off. Her coat was lying on the floor, and her shirt was unbuttoned to the waist as Alex's hands crawled back up Olivia's stomach, meeting at the clasp of Olivia's dark grey bra and deftly unhooking it. Her warm hands were roughly grasping Olivia's breasts and her eyes had never left Olivia's. It had all taken just a few seconds and Olivia could feel herself getting wetter, warmer, hungrier. All the blood in her body seemed to be rushing to her core, and everything was tingling and throbbing and aching. She knew her clit was swollen and it occurred to her that she might come with a simple touch, before Alex even finished undressing her.

"I can read your mind," Alex said.

"What?" Olivia's voice was thick and foggy. Her thoughts weren't coherent. They weren't even thoughts, really—just neurons firing in response to stimulus. She'd forget to breathe if it weren't an automatic process.

Alex's hand cupped Olivia through her jeans, palm pressing hard against Olivia's pubic bone, then sliding down into her crotch, the friction along the zipper and seam of the denim making Olivia moan involuntarily as her sensitive clit begged for more.

"I know what you're thinking," Alex said. "You need this. And I will give you what you need. You know I will."

"Yes ma'am," Olivia mumbled.

"But don't you dare come so soon," Alex said.

"No ma'am. I won't."

"Good girl."

Alex pulled the shirt and bra off Olivia's arms and dropped them on the floor, then quickly unhooked Liv's belt and undid her button and zipper.

"Off." Alex issued her command and then stepped back to watch.

Olivia didn't speak. She pushed the pants down to the floor, kicking her shoes and socks off as she discarded the jeans, and stood to face her wife, waiting to see what was next.

"Couch." Clearly there wouldn't be much talking, and that was just fine with both of them.

Olivia walked to the couch as she was told.

"Sit down, facing me," Alex said. She took a seat in the armchair opposite the couch, still fully clothed, and waited.

Olivia sat, thinking briefly that if this were anyone else, she wouldn't go along, wouldn't follow orders. She'd feel exposed and vulnerable, and would be looking for cover, both literal and figurative. But not with Alex. She felt safe and loved and adored, and couldn't wait to see what would happen.

"Put your feet on the table," Alex ordered, nodding her head toward the low coffee table between them. "And then spread your legs for me, baby. I want to see you."

"Jesus," Olivia hissed as she sucked in her breath. She did it—planting her toes on the edge of the table about eighteen inches apart and letting her knees fall outward, exposing herself to Alex completely, not sure which was hotter: the look on Alex's face, or the authority in her voice.

"You are so wet," Alex observed. "All for me."

"Yes," Olivia whispered in response. "For you."

"I want you to get off for me, Liv. Right now, right here, while I watch you."

"Okay."

"I want you to take those beautiful fingers and I want you to stroke your clit until I tell you it's okay to come. Don't come any sooner. Do you understand?"

Olivia nodded, unable to speak. Three minutes before she'd been dying for the feeling of Alex's tongue on her clit, but right this second she wanted nothing more than to do this all by herself while her wife watched, to use her own hand, to tease and touch and fuck herself until she couldn't stand it anymore, to drive Alex into a frenzy and to come as hard as she'd ever come.

"I'm not going to say much," Alex told her. "I'm just going to watch you, and enjoy the show. I'll let you know when it's time to let go."

Another nod from the couch. Olivia was dying to get started, but somehow knew that she needed to wait to be told that, too.

"I can smell you," Alex told her.

"Oh, God." Olivia's pussy clenched at the words.

"Yeah. You smell good enough to eat. But not yet," Alex teased. "I know how much you like to be fucked after you come, and I will fuck you, but you're going to do your part first."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You can touch yourself, Olivia. Do what feels good. But remember: don't come until I say so. And I'm watching. I want to see how good it feels."

Olivia's eyes were locked on Alex as her right hand immediately went toward her goal, but Alex's gaze followed that hand. Olivia moaned softly as her fingers made contact with her hard, sensitive clit. She could come right now—she was sure of it—but Alex had been clear on what was expected. She'd have to vary things a little, alternate strokes and pressure, to make sure she didn't go over the edge before she was given permission.

Her fingers trailed down from her clit, sliding along her swollen lips and dipping inside, then dragging back up the way they'd come, coated now with her slick, warm honey. She made a few slow circles of her clit, staring at Alex and willing her to make eye contact, which she did after a few seconds. The desire in that one look sent a charge through Olivia, and she moved her fingers down again, knowing that she had to be careful.

She took her time, trailing one finger, then two, up and down along her folds, teasing her entrance. She used her left hand to pinch her nipples as she slowly spread the sticky wetness and enjoyed the sensations both hands were creating. Alex's attention was everywhere, but Olivia was focused on Alex's blue eyes and perfect mouth, her breathing shallow and her tongue absentmindedly licking her delicious, slightly parted lips.

Olivia continued this way for a few minutes and, true to her word, Alex said nothing. Olivia twisted and tweaked her nipples, palmed her own breasts and grasped them hard, moaning again as the contact seemed to set off a chain reaction that radiated further down. All the while her legs were propped up and spread so Alex could see everything, could see how wet she was and how much she was enjoying this attention. She focused on her clit for a few seconds at a time, then let her hands wander, trying to control herself so she could hold out as long as Alex wanted her to.

She was needy, and very empty, and knew that—for now, at least—she'd have to take care of that on her own. The only help Alex would offer would be her rapt attention, which was beyond arousing in and of itself.

Liv used both hands to spread herself open slightly for Alex, whose breathing sped up at this gesture, at the sight of Olivia's wet, glistening cunt. Liv slipped two fingers inside, as deeply as possible, and used her left hand to start working on her clit. She could feel the smooth muscles inside grasping and pulling her in, desperate for more, and she circled her clit as she fucked herself, in and out, slow and steady.

She wanted to come, so badly she could scream. But she wouldn't ask. She wondered how long Alex could hold out, knowing that her wife was eager to go down on her, to fuck her and to make her come again, but wouldn't do so until this little scene had played itself out.

It seemed like a lifetime, but was probably only 15 minutes since she'd sat down on the couch, when Alex spoke again.

"Olivia."

"Alex," she answered, her voice husky and full of promise. She knew that hearing her own name would ratchet up Alex's desire.

"Come for me, Liv. Now."

It was all she needed. Olivia used her hands to spread herself open again, the fingertips of her left hand stroking the swollen lips while her right index finger found her clit and she finally let herself use the pressure that she knew would push her over the edge.

Less than a minute later, Olivia felt herself falling, the point of no return having been passed—she came hard, calling Alex's name and shuddering as her orgasm ripped through her. It was deep and long, and she continued lightly stroking her clit as the waves continued, each one slightly less than the one before. It was like coming down slowly off a high and she felt her whole body relax, all the tension gone in that one thunderous moment.

Alex took it all in, and their eyes were locked on one another as Olivia rode out the last of the warm waves. Finally, Alex smiled.

"Feeling good, baby?"

"Yes, ma'am. Very good," Olivia confirmed.

"You're so beautiful," Alex said. "Ready for dinner?" The desire in her voice was replaced now by love and adoration, and as much as Olivia appreciated that, she wasn't really quite ready for dinner after that, wasn't ready to let Alex off the hook that easily.

She took her right hand to her mouth and slowly licked her fingers, pushing them all the way into her mouth and then drawing them back out, tasting herself as she watched Alex's face. The gesture had achieved the desired effect—Alex looked like she was desperate for contact.

"No dinner," Olivia said.

"No?" Now it was Alex whose voice was cloudy, her words just a mumble.

"I don't want food," Olivia said. "I want you."

Alex smiled again and stood up, walking over to the couch, taking her clothes off as she covered the few steps between them. She knew it would be a while before dinner now.

"Take me," Alex said. "And take your time. I'm all yours."