He got up wearily at the sound of the doorbell, and set aside the magazine he'd been reading. He was tempted not to answer at all, but as the bell sounded again, he looked through the peephole and saw her. She looked too forlorn to turn away, so yet again, against his better judgment he opened the door.
"John," she said his name as though he was a drug and she was an addict in need of a fix.
He knew the problem; today a heinous deviant who had murdered 5 young boys decades ago had been apprehended. The perp was old and incurably ill. They really had nothing that they could use as leverage on him, and so they'd been unable to get him to identify the one boy who had sparked the reopening of the cold case in the first place. As usual Casey was taking the blame on herself and feeling helpless, feeling like she was drowning in the sea of depravity and cruelty that was the daily grind of SVU.
John didn't want her to be involved in that world, his world, but she was. He wasn't foolish enough to think he could talk her into quitting, maybe one day she'd move on of her own accord, but until that day there would be evenings like this. Evenings when she would come to him to have him hold her, caress her, make love to her, convince her that sex could be a beautiful thing, when shared between two people who respected each other, cared about each other.
"Casey," he replied, the addiction just as clear in his voice as it had been in hers.
John pulled Casey into his arms, shutting the door and leaning her against it. He began kissing her, trying to love away the despair they both felt. John kissed her gently, nibbling at her ear lobes and neck. Casey impatiently pulled away from him to begin unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his skin, breathing warmly on his neck and chest. She then kissed him, sweeping her tongue through his mouth, reluctantly relinquishing his lower lip as she broke the kiss.
Casey's assertiveness awakened something in John, and he found himself doing something he hadn't done in ages. He picked Casey up and carried her to his bed. Laying her down carefully, he quickly toed off his shoes and shed his shirt and pants, all the while keeping her pinned to the bed with the heat of his gaze. He stood over her, dressed only in his boxers and socks. He ran his hands over her breasts through the fabric of her blouse and then tried to quickly unbutton her shirt. Before John could grow irritated and rip the buttons off, Casey pushed his hands away and undid them. She then arched up from the bed and removed the shirt. John placed his hands over the cups of her bra, kneading her breasts.
Casey began panting and John smiled. He loved knowing what he was doing to her. He knelt next to her on the bed and then placed a hand beneath her back to pull her up off the bed and to him. He made quick work of the hooks of her bra and freed her breasts. He leaned her back enough to give himself access to her nipples and began alternating. He kissed her left breast and then sucked on the nipple, while his left hand kneaded her right breast, and then he'd switch. He used his free hand to stroke her belly and her legs, teasing her. Eventually he removed her skirt, nylons and panties. When he had her naked on the bed, he stopped for a moment to drink her in with his eyes. Then he began gently tormenting her with his long fingers, grazing them over her mound, occasionally letting a finger dip inside. John kept it up until she pleaded, "Please, I need you, I need you inside me! Please, John!"
John rose up for a moment, removing his boxers and then re-positioned himself above Casey. He kissed her and looked into her eyes, again seeking her permission.
"Oh Casey," he called out as he merged their bodies.
"Oh yes, yes John," she responded. Soon they were rocking together to an ancient rhythm, the sound of his breathing and groaning providing a baritone counterpoint to her mezzo screams. Just when he thought he could hold back no longer, he felt Casey's body convulse. Her climax pushed him over the edge, and he joined her and then collapsed on top of her.
"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry," John said with a bit of a laugh. "I just sort of lost all my strength there. I didn't hurt you did I?" he asked with concern.
"No, you're not heavy enough to hurt me," Casey answered with a laugh, and then she breathed in deeply, rolled over on her side, propped up on an elbow and smiled at him. "That was wonderful."
John smiled back, he wasn't sure what to say. He couldn't read her or maybe he just didn't believe what he saw in her eyes. He was afraid that to her, he was just something to do, just a human entertainment center. Making love when one of them had had a bad day was getting to be a habit. He wondered if he could break the habit before she broke his heart.