OLIVIA entered her room almost good half a minute later.
She caught herself staring at Peter's bedroom door dully, without understanding.
Something had just transpired between them.
It was something that she did, or said, but she could clearly feel she had hurt him. Although, what it was, Olivia didn't know and couldn't tell at all.
It wasn't her intention to harm him.
She cared about Peter too much to ever wish to do so.
She couldn't think about it now.
She would think about it tomorrow morning, when she could at least stand upright and talk properly.
Her room was spinning in circles and Olivia threaded carefully forward, clutching her black cane, helpless, feeling like an old lady.
She cursed the unknown drink in anger.
Olivia was aware that she lost control over her own behaviour and she hated the feeling.
Her other free palm was futilely trying to encounter the switch.
The sheer terror of being unable to do so, the possibility of remaining in the dark forever almost shattered her then and there.
Beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she almost bit into her hand from complete anxiety.
Olivia had had nyctophobia ever since she was a little girl.
Darkness was a giant, unknown black matter filled with things that she feared most.
Her stepfather's shouts and thuds as he would beat up her mom, somewhere in the obscurity, in a different part of the house while helpless Rach and Olivia were forced to listen to her muffled cries.
What Olivia used to do then, was to place her palms on Rach's ears and endure the whole tirade of unpleasant listening solely on her own.
She was doing her little sister a favour, shielding her from posterior bad memories, she thought; but deep inside Olivia knew by behaving like that, she ultimately did herself a huge disservice.
It still made her uneasy to stand in the pitch dark, to be unable to see, to rely on her sense of sight.
The terror was rooted deep, up to the point that even now, as a grown adult young woman, Olivia slept with a night lamp.
She forced herself to take several deep breaths and to think about something else, anything else but the dark that enveloped her.
Once she calmed down she did indeed manage to find and flip the switch.
The bedroom was finally bathed in a weak yet lifesaving light.
Olivia drank in huge gulps of air, as if she had been drowning and had managed to resurface mere seconds ago.
"Oh God," she heard herself say out loud. "At last."
Olivia despised that personality trait of hers.
Those oscillations that at one moment made her look like a robot, an indestructible warrior who wasn't afraid of anything and yet at another, she was a helpless little girl, all of her past traumas resurfacing to torment her at the same time, while she could do nothing but stand and watch.
She wished for some balance in her mind.
For her right hand to finally be able to grasp the gun.
For her irrational fears to go away and for her mental instability to be cured.
Olivia also remembered Sam, the man Nina Sharp recommended her to go to. She did so with irritability. What was the point of meeting at that bowling alley anyway? He wasn't helping at all. The only thing he did was to subject her to some menial tasks like constantly tying and untying her shoe laces and keeping score during bowling games. She found their conversations to be utterly useless.
Olivia felt naked without a gun, without a precision she used to possess as she wielded her weapon. She didn't feel like herself anymore and it made her incredibly restless and uneasy.
Banishing such thoughts, forcing herself to exit the "I want it all here and now" state of mind and return to the patient waiting, Olivia decided to take a shower before going to bed.
Her body barely obeyed her yet she knew she needed to clear out her head at least a little bit before finally getting some rest.
She sat on the bed and step by step, managed to slide out the oversized clothes she had just been wearing.
Just like her body and her hair, the garments smelled strongly of smoke and spices and she caught herself coughing lightly as her eyes teared up a little bit.
Soon after, her body was left nude to the room air and she hurried into the bathroom, hobbling away and grabbing the wall to steady herself.
The smaller rooms were always warmer.
Olivia grinned when she noticed a bathtub behind the curtain. She always preferred them to showers, really.
Lying in the bathtub in her own apartment was her private time, time just for herself, away from buzzing phones and haunting cases.
Turning the shower to its hottest setting, she filled the tub quickly and almost fell into the overtly warm water, she was in such a rush to be engulfed by it.
Olivia thought hot water was one of life's greatest blessings, and she revelled in it. Stepping under the surface with a sigh of delight and a shiver of pleasure, she leaned herself against the tile wall, gasping at the coolness amidst the heat.
Her eyes were closed, as she was lying, fully submerged into the powered stillness of liquid heat, the temperature rising quickly in the small curtained area.
For long moments, Olivia simply rested against the warming tiles, breathing in the moist air deeply and relaxing with her back to the water.
She then felt individual muscles giving up their near-constant tension, allowing her to breathe deeper.
Olivia's eyes drifted closed lazily and she was reluctant to move.
The experience of near scalding water was a heady one; the sting of pleasure-pain a blessing of sensation that Olivia would welcome each time she jumped into the tub. Finally straightening up a bit from the now warm tile, her body turned to meet the water head on and Olivia gasped softly as the rush of pure heat kissed her breasts.
Her nipples hardened instantly and she blushed, recalling how they were while she was listening in on Peter pleasing himself.
She never had the time to ride out that particular turn on because they had to go to the bar, but now… There was time till morning.
Her ears pricked as she tried to hear Peter once again, wondering what he was doing in his bedroom in that precise moment but nothing was heard from there, just a bit of light tossing and turning.
Perhaps he is having trouble falling asleep, she thought.
Olivia then took a shower head and turned it on, leaning back enough to allow the stream of bliss to strike her belly directly and further down.
Being freshly shaven, her mons was exquisitely bare to the sensual, heated caress of the water.
Olivia felt herself growing wet from within, her lips curling up into the smallest smile. As she reached for her bath-sponge, Olivia poured a small amount of the slippery bath gel onto it, delighting in the delicate scent of apple that wafted to her nostrils.
Lathering her upper arms first, she presented her profile to the showerhead and began to bathe herself, one limb at a time, turning to scrub her other side as well. Her belly and posterior were treated to the same gentle, thorough attention before Olivia turned her back to the stream once more, sighing and giving silent thanks to the hotel's endless water heater.
She glided the lubricated sponge slowly up her stomach, dragging it between her breasts, and then over, caressing the upper reaches of her chest with it.
Slowly, she brought the sudsy loofah up once more, no longer tracing the center of her torso but deliberately grazing her sensitive, tender breasts; left, then right. The teasing rub over such delicate peaks drew another soft gasp from her lips, yet Olivia did not stop the gentle play, alternating from one turgid breast to the other, feeling yet more warmth flood her body from the depths of her sex.
With a soft groan at the tiny jolts of pleasure, her hand lowered again, more urgently now. The first contact of Olivia's bare mound and the soaped loofah made her gasp again and she parted her thighs and rubbed down lower, skating the grooved sponge carefully over her outer lips, for now still resisting the growing urge within her to do more than bathe.
However, her excitement rose with every touch and Olivia felt her own lubrication seep from her nether lips. That made her smile, as she walked her hand down her belly in a slow motion. A small anticipatory shiver ran along her lithe frame as she slid even lower into the bathtub, her thighs parting eagerly.
One fingertip touched, just a tap, at the very top of her slit and she paused to re-gather the breath that exploded from her. Another tap, and yet more of them, a rapid beat against throbbing flesh and Olivia was already starting to squirm, her body twitching with every flick. Despite the sauna-flush she knew she wore on her face from the lengthy exposure to the moist heat of the bathroom, she felt her face beginning to warm more as her passion mounted.
Her hand quickly moved from the teasing touch into something fiercer. Seeming to move of its own accord, one ridged finger dipped into her lips like a thrust, suddenly grinding against the hidden pearl between her lips. Olivia's entire body jolted sharply at the delicious almost pain as she cried out loudly. Now there was no turning back. She was unwilling, unable to stop; panting and writhing hard as her hand worked furiously at her throbbing, screaming clit.
Peter's face swam out of nowhere and positioned itself between her legs, as his imaginary lips and tongue started devouring her mercilessly, pinning her in place, not letting her move an inch.
Olivia stopped her ministrations instantly, gasping in fear, shame and surprise at her brain's own concoction.
As she was lying there, still unsatisfied, cheeks flushed, nipples impossibly hard from her second tease of the day and hunger that went on unfed, her clit bright pink and engorged up to the point of unrecognizability, her thighs stained with her white secretion, the second headache attacked from the shadow and rendered Olivia useless.
This time it felt even worse than the first time.
It was as if two metallic clamps were attached to both sides of her temples and someone had started pressing them, wishing to squeeze her brain out.
Olivia almost wished it would happen, she wanted her head to finally explode, just so that she would stop feeling, so that she wouldn't have to deal with such monstrous overwhelming pain anymore.
There was nothing, no one, except the excruciating agony of her headache that almost made her go blind and she staggered around the bathtub, struggling to leave the bathroom, touching around for her light green towel and trying to wrap it around her body.
Her teeth dug into her left arm trying to prevent the scream.
It worked, but the arm began to bleed and Olivia grunted from yet another source of pain.
Her right foot somehow managed to locate the bathroom door and Olivia pushed it with the last atom of her strength.
When she finally came out, her legs gave way and she fell on the soft brown carpet, rolling around, defeated by the agony that tormented her body and soul.
Olivia then crawled on all fours, keeping the hotel bed in her field of vision.
It was the only goal she could focus on.
Get to the bed, get to the bed, get to the bed-she repeated this mantra, willing her knees, her palms and her fingers to somehow move forward, in any way she knew.
Seconds seemed like days to Olivia as she finally managed to climber up the bed and fall on to the sheets, still wrapped in her towel, her wet hair leaving traces on the soft pillow.
Her hands clutched her temples as she took deep breaths, trying to calm down, to focus on something, anything else but the pain that engulfed her entire being.
Her consciousness was drifting away from her in steady waves and with it, the ability for self-control. When yet another headache attack came and shook her very core, she couldn't hold it in anymore no matter how she tried.
Olivia cried out so earnestly and sadly, as if she was wailing out for help with all her might, sounding like a frightened little girl in distress.
She knew no one would come, and even if someone came, there was nothing anyone could do about it, no doctor would know how to make it go away.
Her cries became muffled squeals as she buried her face into the pillow again, resigned to her temporary terrible fate.
There was a bang in the adjacent room and she could hear Peter jump out of his own bed and run towards the door.
Oh no, she thought. Just not him. Not now. Don't come, Peter, please don't.
It was too late. He was going to come.
His bedroom entrance opened and closed with a fast, urgent sound and Olivia could now positively hear him bang on her own door.
There was a distant voice of the receptionist inquiring if everything was alright but Peter just brusquely told him to mind his own business and resumed his pounding, calling out her name in worry.
She wanted to answer so much, to just go towards the door, open up, tell him she'd just had a bath and that she was merely tired, that Peter was imagining it all.
But Olivia couldn't. For the first time in this last year of their partnership she was feeling weak in earnest, weak and unable to move.
She tried to shout from her bed, at least tell him something along the lines: I'm ok!
But there was no strength left within her to do even that. Any sound Olivia would try to produce sounded like a mewling of a new-born kitten.
"To hell with it all," she could hear the obvious distress in Peter's voice as one swift kick of his left foot smashed against her door lock and his body advanced into her room forcefully, ignoring the pleas of the receptionist who was wailing about the destroyed property.
"Listen, my partner is in there and she might be in danger. I don't give a damn about your property. This should buy your silence, and pay for the lock fixing tomorrow, I imagine," Olivia heard the sound of paper money hissing as it was being sneakily trespassed from one hand to another to which the man abruptly fell silent. "And now I would be very much grateful if you removed your presence from our immediate surroundings," Peter sounded dangerous and Olivia knew the man will leave them alone without insisting. Apparently, bribing someone was a pretty easy thing to do in Baghdad.
Peter put the door in place the best he could after his rough lock handling and ran towards her sprawled form on the bed.
Olivia felt him stop for a split second and she blushed fiercely under the veil of her still wet, blond hair; she knew he didn't advance because she was lying spread-eagled on her own bed practically naked, merely enveloped in a medium sized towel that just about covered her intimate parts and her breasts, but that was all.
Well, Peter has seen me in my black underwear the day when I entered the tank, so this shouldn't come off as surprise to him, Olivia thought.
The moment passed and he knelt on the floor, looking at Olivia's hazy eyes as his warm palms enveloped Olivia's face, cradling her head tenderly.
He was only wearing his dark blue briefs, she realized.
He probably didn't have time to get dressed, was another Olivia's thought.
His fingers gently slapped both of her cheeks, tapping at them caringly, affectionately as he whispered into her ear.
"Olivia. Olivia, please. Tell me something, anything."
"Peter," she wasn't even sure if she said it at all, it was such a faint wisp of a word, mere two syllables that flickered in the air and then they were gone.
Olivia wondered if they had even reached his ears but she didn't have to wonder that for long.
His smile was wide and relieved as he started caressing her hair next, putting her into upright position and helping her to lean against the pillow and sit on her bed.
"Hey. You're okay. You are going to be okay. That's it. That's it, 'Livia. Just a little bit more," Peter was obviously supporting her efforts in a comforting voice and it helped Olivia straighten up and finally place herself in a sitting position.
Olivia made a point of looking anywhere else around the room except towards Peter. His overt protectiveness made her feel irritated as always.
"Hey. What just happened, Olivia?", she recognized the insistence in his voice and knew that there was no way she could avoid explanation and send him packing.
"Well, apparently, you broke into my room and brought down the lock. That was exciting."
"Don't try to joke your way around this, Dunham and pull a Bishop on me. I know something happened to you. The way you screamed was inhumane. It woke me up and that, I can tell you, is something very hard to achieve."
Olivia's lips pursed and she raised her eyes from the bed, not quite daring to look him in the eye.
She almost contradicted him by telling him that she knew he wasn't even asleep yet but thought better of it.
As a result of avoiding direct eye contact with younger Bishop, the view Olivia had now was of his bare chest, soft and cushiony, with just a few strands of hair and Olivia thought she might have just gotten herself into an even worse situation.
"Fine. It was the headache," she spoke up quickly, irritated.
"Again?" Olivia could hear the worry in Peter's voice as he spoke up.
"Yeah but as you know, doctors said it might start happening. So it's not a big deal, just a bit stronger pain than I am used to. I am fine now, Peter. Really. Thank you for coming to check up on me. But I think that now…I can perfectly manage on my own. Headaches might even be something positive, you know; like… Conducive to the recovery of my memory, so there is that. I don't even mind then that much, I just want to remember so badly."
"Listen. Olivia. I think I understand what it is that you are going through, but everything will click in its place, I promise."
"I know. It's just that…" she finally cracked, telling him what was on her mind all along. "You know…I need it to go faster. It's this job. This job broke me, and I have to face it. Face the fact that…I am not the same as I once was," she finally looked at Peter's eyes and they were wide open, focused on her face, unrelenting, unflinching.
He looked as if he were drinking every single word of what she was saying, grateful for her confession, grateful for her finally opening up to him.
"My body isn't the same anymore, Peter. But I am just trying to ignore that fact for now. I know that all I need is time. And I… I don't' wanna talk about it any longer. So…I'm just gonna go, and finish my bath and wake up early and see if we can indeed talk to that doctor and close that case," she now spoke impossibly fast as she was trying to straighten up and Peter's forehead creased with worry seeing how hard that was for her. "That…The solution of this case…would be the only thing that would absolve me from this…Impotence I am feeling. And hatred for my own helplessness."
Olivia then somehow stepped far away from Peter and touched the wall on the side.
"Let me at least help you get back into the bathroom. You might fall down again," he insisted.
"There is no need, Peter, really. I am fine, I told you."
She expected him to lower his head as always and exit her bedroom, go back to his own bed.
Yet he still stood there, immovable, his dark shape occupying her tunnel vision, his eyes now unequivocally flashing green, turning into those of an adamant predator.
Baghdad was his terrain, after all.
Even though Olivia might have had him dog whipped back in Boston, here, another part of his personality, dangerous and insistent, emerged.
She could see that this time, Peter Bishop wouldn't obey.
Wouldn't leave her, wouldn't back down.
"No, you're not. And I am not leaving until I see to it that you are safe, no matter what you say or do, Dunham," he reached her in two easy steps and picked her up as if she were a limp plush toy.
Her traitorous body shivered and she wriggled in his arms trying to escape the pleasure rivulets that ran all over her skin but soon gave up in fear that her towel might fall down on the floor.
"Peter, please. I need you to…"
"You always need me to do something, Olivia. How about what I need? Have you ever asked me what it was that I needed?" his voice rose, booming all over the room and she flinched in anticipation and fear. "This relationship is a two-way street and I have been letting you have your way for too long. Now I want you to hear me out, dammit. What I need is to tell you how I've been feeling ever since you had your car accident."
"Okay. Okay." Olivia nodded twice vigorously. "I will. I will hear you out. Can you just please put me down, first? Peter", she now almost begged him and he took her back to bed obediently, laying her on it and sitting next to her, his expression pained.
"Can you even imagine to begin what it feels like…" he croaked. "The moment when I saw you pass through that windshield. Broken. Bloodied. Fractured. Bile rose in my throat and I… I guess that I was so scared. So terrified I would never see you again, Olivia."
"I am here now, Peter," her tiny palm tried to console him but he interrupted her again.
"I need to get this out of my system. Would you please let me…"
She merely nodded.
"I remember me, and Walter, going to the doctor's. He was saying that you weren't gonna make it. He said: "I am afraid your friend's injuries were too severe. We were unable to restore any brain function. Patients who suffer this kind of head trauma simply… Don't regain consciousness.", tears were now welling in his eyes and Olivia didn't know what to say, how to comfort him, except to pat his hands clumsily.
"I remember clearly, dragging myself to the nearest bar, just next to the hospital. If you asked me right now what the name of the bar was or how to get there, I honestly wouldn't know."
There was so much raw pain in his words that anything that Olivia could have said seemed petty in comparison.
So she just remained silent and waited for the storm of his emotions to pass, to die down.
"I was faced with the thought of losing you, of you dying in that hospital bed and me being unable to do anything about it. I felt so damned helpless. I was downing shot after shot and I wanted to be... Gone. You reshaped my entire world and left me alone. I didn't want to exist in the world where you weren't, Olivia," he swallowed hard several times before he was able to continue.
"Peter, I...", the fervour of his words sent her off the emotional edge.
Olivia was rendered speechless as he went on and on, deeper and further, telling her everything he had on his mind.
"Broyles found me there," Peter interrupted her yet again. "I don't know how. Probably due to his super freakish FBI powers, beats me. Told me the efficiency of the division was being questioned. They were going to shut us down. I didn't care much about it, at that point, anyway. I mean, what were we even doing? Sitting around waiting for someone to die? We were the clean-up crew. Sent in to mop it up and make sure it was all neat and tidy for the file. We were always too late anyway. I thought how... How we were too late to save you and nothing made sense anymore."
"But, Peter... You told me that they weren't going to shut us down, when I woke up and asked you about it."
"Your survival, you waking up, it changed everything. I wouldn't let them do it, wouldn't let them shut us down because you needed this job. I knew your recovery would be much, much faster if you were allowed to bury your head in your work and I wasn't wrong."
"So you managed to convince them for the division to remain open? But how did you...," her curiosity was getting better of her.
"That's a story for another time. Now... Are you sure you are alright? That the headaches won't come back?"
"They don't reappear that often but I can't be sure," Olivia was honest with Peter. "This is the second one today."
"I know you find me to be a bother lately, Olivia. But just looking at you standing in front of me, being alive. It's like a miracle to me and anything that might make you disappear frightens me. I am afraid for your life, Dunham. More than you yourself are, I dare say. Can you even imagine," he grabbed her shoulders as his voice broke, "how hard it was to say goodbye to you? There I was, sitting on your hospital bed, looking at the shell of the woman you once were. Your body merely a memory of who you really were. I thought that…That they would disconnect you from life support in the morning and I was trying to remember every single detail that was you. Lingering on your hair. On your…Lips," he swallowed. "I was crying, goddammit."
Olivia's left palm abandoned the confines of the mattress as she caressed Peter's face.
"It's okay. I woke up. I am here now."
"And how, Dunham. You woke up speaking Greek. Telling me the very sentence my mom used to say ever night before I went to bed."
"Να είναι καλύτερος άνθρωπος απο τον πατέρα του", Olivia whispered.
"We bonded when you spoke that sentence. I mean, of all of the things you could have said after having woken up, it had to be that."
"I admit that it was really weird," Olivia acknowledged. "I don't know who told me that sentence, when or why."
"I only know you asked for me first, as soon as you woke up." Peter seemed positively smug now.
"I…I did?", Olivia didn't even remember that anymore.
"Yes. I was the first one you needed, the first one you called. I don't know if you remember the expression on my face, and I don't expect you too, but I was slap happy."
"Huh," Olivia chuckled.
"You were under such distress. I had a hard time calming you. The only thing you kept repeating was: 'Please, Peter, my gun. I need my gun.'"
"I didn't feel safe. That's all there was to it.", Olivia chewed on a strand of her hair.
"You weren't you, all of a sudden. You looked broken. Shattered to pieces. It made me wonder: 'will she ever had seconds of breaks, in between cases and personal duress, where she will be able to relax, to just…be happy and live her real life?'", Peter lowered his head. "Your whole body was trembling, your right hand was shaking and I was so frustrated. I was feeling both your frustration and my own, I was angry at someone, anyone who made you like that, who fractured you."
"Stupid hand," Olivia hugged herself, wrapping her body a little bit more with the towel. She felt uncomfortable being like that in front of Peter but she knew that if she changed into something else, he would stay there with her and chat. Hopefully, her not altering her attire would make him leave soon. "It just won't work, Peter."
He stretched out his fingers and slowly, tentatively touched the marks on her forehead and face, then moving onto the bruises on her back. There was wariness and tenderness in his movement and Olivia's breath caught in her throat.
"Don't say that. Give it time."
"I don't want to wait anymore. Peter… During our case, the case with the monster baby. I almost shot you in the head. I could have killed you."
"But you didn't. It was a misfire."
"It wasn't. Even though I evaded the truth and wrote something different, along the lines how my gun went off, and even though you backed me up on that. We both know what happened."
"Are you suggesting that I lied to the federal agent, Agent Dunham?", Peter smirked with satisfaction.
"I… I lied to Broyles in my report but I didn't expect you to… Why did you do it?"
"I had my partner's back," he smiled. "When Broyles asked me about it, I bluffed him without hesitation. Although I have my doubts that the man probably knew everything about it all along. You have a friend in him, 'Livia."
"I know," she nodded firmly. "I am lucky to have him. And Charlie. And you, Peter. Although I don't say it much but I really appreciate what you did for me when I needed your support the most."
"You don't say it to me, but you do tell it to others," his voice became deeper as Peter drew impossibly close.
"What…What do you mean?", Olivia tried to back away but there was nothing but a pillow and a wall behind her.
"When you were hooked up to those life support machine, I talked to Rachel," he pinned her with his gaze and she squirmed under it, not knowing where to look. "I remember asking her about Ella. She told me…'She is at her friend's house. I didn't want her to remember her aunt like this. Olivia had a living will. No life support. They're gonna do this in the morning. So I have just been sitting with her and… You know, she liked you, Peter. Did you know that?' I didn't know what to make of it then. I didn't even know if I will ever get to chance to see your eyes open, let alone talk to you about this. But I guess now is as good time as any," Peter pressed on.
Olivia wasn't sure she was hearing him well. She felt her ears and neck go red and anger and shame rose within her, mostly at her sister for saying such things to him.
Though, Rachel thought she was on her deathbed so it might have been justified but still… Olivia was incredibly uncomfortable with it all.
"So did you like me, Dunham? Did you feel anything for me?", he wouldn't let it go.
"Peter, now is not…"
"Now is not the time, you mean? When will it be? I can't wait forever to catch you between cases and between boyfriends, sweetheart. Or between headache attacks, or near death experiences, for that matter. We have around eight hours till morning, we are sure there will be no new case apart the case we are currently on. Answer me, Olivia. Why do you think I was so worried about you right now, that I brought down the damn door? Like Walter would put it…'I was really worried'. Do you think it's just about the partnership? Can you think it's only that? I actually feel a lot more for you, Olivia. I admit that it's not in the best of taste, coming at this time, but I have a very good excuse for my lack of breeding. Time we don't have. And I don't want to spend another moment pretending that I don't feel what I feel."
"Peter. Peter, I…" she was genuinely confused, not knowing what to say. It was all so familiar and new, exciting and scary at the same time. She expected them to have such a conversation in the long run, she would lie to herself if she said she didn't see it coming but now of all moments… Olivia was trying to wrap her head around it all.
She never thought he would seem like this to her.
It was Peter, her Peter, but at the same time it wasn't.
He was this persistent stranger with feverish eyes, who just threw all of his cards on the table recklessly, demanding an answer.
He took her hands into his and forced her to look at him, which she reluctantly did.
"I gave you so much of myself, Olivia. You know it. Whenever you needed me, I was here. Whatever task needed completion, I did it for you. You would tell me come, I would come. When you would tell me 'shoo', I would retreat. I gave you the new, reformed me. I gave you my time, my devotion. My everything. I keep giving it to you, day after day. But be warned those things don't come for free," Peter squeezed her fingers a bit harder, more possessively, to make a point. "I expect a payback, one day. Please, give me just a little….Just something… Just a breadcrumb. It's enough for me if you could just tell me… That eventually, when you…when your body and your mind heal…That you will give me, give us a shot, despite all the fear and insecurity you might feel. That Rachel was right. I need to know, how you feel about me."
"I do care about you, Peter," she admitted, biting her lower lip. "I would be lying if I said that I didn't. It's just that, I…I don't want us to be in a relationship right now. I need more time to decide whether I… This life we lead… This job we do. Any day, any one of us could succumb to the bullet wound or God knows what accident and I don't know if I could…If I could bear the thought of losing you too, Peter. I try to convince myself I don't need you; that I don't need anyone because it's easier like that for me. Easier for when I actually lose you, if I do."
She could hear him gasp openly, letting out a sigh of relief, and then he peppered her hair with light kisses, moving on to her forehead and cheeks, bypassing her lips on purpose. He knew that would mean a higher level of intimacy, a lot more clearance than she had just given him.
Olivia, in return, hugged his head with her trembling fingers as he placed it on her breast. It felt good, lying like that with him.
She wasn't ready to do anything more, to give herself away to him but that hug he was offering her and that she was taking with her open arms. That reassurance and comfort, the warmth of his chest, his heart beating against hers… That was something she actually craved without even realizing it.
His head lifted from her chest and it was her neck he was now clumsily trying to ravish, constantly keeping in check her reactions.
Olivia stiffened but calmed down, because of the way Peter was doing it. It was just too tender, sweet and careful and she didn't want to push him away, not while he was being so sweet.
"You can't blame the guy for not being able to keep his hands off of you. You really are quite a sight, Agent Dunham. That towel reveals more than it's hiding, I can tell you that. And it's been too long for me. Way too long. I haven't slept with a woman since the last time I was here, Olivia", he growled at her as if he was blaming her for what happened to him.
Olivia felt a hint of smugness and pride for being responsible for such a thing, so she chuckled at those words, but soon after, she gasped, inhaling sharply. Peter had expertly found a beating vein on her neck and insistently sucked on it, making her unable to breathe, to think, to process. The pain from her headache had left her as if it had never been there in the first place.
Her gasps turned into moans and she could feel him smirk into her neck, thus making his retaliation complete.
"Oh Peter, I…"
"Do you want me to stop? We don't have to do anything, Olivia…I just…. Want to get a taste of you. To please you. To comfort you. And damn it, I wish… I wish you would let me do so. Let me in, for once. Let me make you feel good. Let someone be there for you once in your life."
She merely nodded. Her brain was all foggy, and it was all his fault, for being as close as he was, for holding her like he did, infecting her with his smell and his warmth.
His expert fingers slowly unclasped the towel and he groaned.
"God. You look incredible, just lying there."
Olivia could see her breasts caught his eye, spread out on her chest, topped by the pinkish tan circles of her nipples, their perky tips thrusting upward, clear indicators of her continuing arousal that hadn't abated at all ever since she had left the bathtub.
Olivia wondered whether she was, in, fact, aroused, since the moment she heard him please himself in his bedroom.
She was already interrupted twice, once by having to leave to the bar and the second time, just when she was about to come, by her awful headache.
She really needed that release after so much self-teasing and even though she couldn't imagine that Peter would give it to her, not even in her wildest dreams, here it was, happening before her very eyes.
He started massaging her breasts with his hands, taking one luscious globe in each, savouring the warm flesh as it overflowed their capacity. Then he leaned forward and let himself enjoy them completely, brushing his stubbly cheeks lightly over the silky surface, letting the rubbery little nubs run gently under his lips. Then Peter opened his mouth wide and took in Olivia's left nipple, eagerly suckling her like a hungry child. His tongue ran excitedly over the rough-soft surface, feeling the tiny bumps all around the centre.
Olivia could hear them both moaning now, as he sucked her harder, at the same time tickling her tip with quick little strokes. He kept that up for a while, then moved to her right one, giving it the exact same treatment while his hand continued to stimulate its partner.
Olivia was enjoying his ministrations a little bit too much. Her body started to writhe, her juice flooded thigs to rub instinctively one against another, her already aroused, protruding clit engorged even more if it was possible in any way.
It seemed to be a signal for Peter to move downward and he started slowly, reluctantly, leaving her tits, traveling down over her ribcage to the flat expanse of her abdomen, raising his eyes periodically to check up on Olivia, to see how it felt for her. There he licked in tiny circles over the surface, feeling her immediate response as he teased her unmercifully, running his tongue straight into the tiny crater of Olivia's navel.
Then he lifted his left foot and ran his hands tenderly up and down the length of her outstretched leg. He kissed and licked it in several places. Olivia saw him look up to see her reaction and recognized that Peter was pleased to see a big, contented smile on her face.
Olivia did enjoy this kind of worship.
Then his gaze seemed to be drawn down the length of her lovely leg, into her crotch, already gleaming with moisture. Raising her leg straight up in the air, Peter continued to kiss and lick at her foot and calf, at the same time inching toward that luscious treat in her crotch.
When Peter reached Olivia's knee, he swirled his tongue against the sensitive area behind it, and was rewarded with a breathy sigh. He licked ever so lightly at the skin of Olivia's left thigh, just inches from her quivering quim. The scent of her arousal filled his head as he continued to tease her.
Olivia was positively trembling now, clearly in need of some satisfaction, which Peter was not about to give, not yet, anyway.
Realizing how bare, how vulnerable she was in front of this man, Olivia twitched and tried to escape upwards with her hips, but it was in vain; Peter reached lower, placing delicate but decisive kisses into the hollows of her hipbones, until the main course was right there in front of him.
His hands hungrily clutched Olivia's thighs and calves; but still he ignored her pussy, continuing to focus his lips on her inner thighs, while his fingertips traced delicate circles over the flat expanse of Olivia's midriff, barely making contact with her skin.
Olivia thought Peter was deliberately trying to drive her crazy.
It seemed to be working, based on the delightful whimpering noises she was making and the tremors she could feel coursing through her own body.
She saw Peter smile to himself triumphantly.
"Sweetheart. If you are at this point already, before I had even touched you down there, then this is going to be a truly extraordinary experience."
Olivia knew he was right. She wanted it badly, needed it badly. It was all due to her recent one year long celibacy.
The thought of how she would give in to his skilful fingers and tongue, how Peter was about to drive her up the wall before making her shake with a totally satisfying orgasm, made Olivia shiver in anticipation.
He paused for several seconds and Olivia wondered what he was thinking of. His face was such a deep shade of crimson that it clearly showed his arousal and hunger. Peter hesitated, it was obvious to her, and she thought if he was perhaps wondering which way to go with her, slow and easy or down and dirty. The hesitation didn't last for long. His instincts took over and now Peter's mouth was full of her pussy.
Olivia was already incredibly wet when he took his first lick, delving probe into the moist confines. He explored inside her for a while, leisurely, licking her inner walls, turning on the spigots of Olivia's juice. Then he settled into a long series of easy, relaxed but persistent tongue strokes, licking her there like a contented puppy, with the tip of his tongue just barely inside Olivia.
Her right hand grasped his hair with such force Olivia wasn't sure she was capable anymore, especially not after the accident. She felt ashamed of her own movements, of her own thirst as she was grinding Peter into her insistently as she made earthy noises of satisfaction: "Unnghhh…Ohhh…ahhh…Unnnnghhhh!
"You definitely seem to be enjoying it, Agent Dunham," Peter emerged for air. "I must…admit…I am really…turned on by the whole…situation. Here I am, on my knees, on your bed, eating out this…beautiful blonde who also happens…to be my boss."
"Oh, Peter…Peter…"
"I love the way you say my name," he muttered adoringly.
"Please, Peter…Don't stop," Olivia begged him for more in a mixture of desire and embarrassment.
"I wouldn't stop for anything in the world now, Livvy. I can't wait to make you come."
With those words, Peter grabbed onto her hips, his fingertips reaching back to the silky roundness of her buttocks as he pulled Olivia forward and dug deeper into her.
"Ohh…my god! Peter…Your tongue…"
It felt like a living thing to her, size and shape changing to fit her inner crevices.
It seemed to Olivia that such statement of hers made Peter really happy, but his satisfied grin was hidden in the depths of her musky folds.
Peter then caught her gaze and held it, looking up from his place there, up over the flat expanse of Olivia's abdomen, past the perfect mounds of her breasts, to her face.
Olivia was wide-eyed, intent, entranced by the sight of him slaving there between her thighs.
Then loosened her grip on his head a bit, giving Peter more room to work, and he took the opportunity to run his tongue up and down the length of her lips, sucking gently at various spots along the way.
Olivia's hand on his head was trembling now, but when Peter moved up to kiss her clit, it tightened. She tensed up with pleasure, then shook him even more urgently as she jammed Peter back against her. "Ohhhh! Yeah! ... do me there ... oh God ... right there!"
She obviously wanted a quick release, and he knew just what to do. Licking lightly over the underside of her clit, Peter teased it with the flat of his tongue, shaking his head back and forth to accentuate the feelings in her little nub.
The volume of Olivia's moans increased noticeably and Peter knew she was almost there.
His licking became more intense now, stronger strokes all over Olivia's genital area. Peter travelled up to the base of her clit, lapping firmly at the underside of her inflamed button, feeling Olivia rise up and shimmy against him as he did it.
He took her nub between his lips and sucked a bit while his tongue washed over its sensitive tip, worming around the edges of her engorged clittie.
That did it.
Olivia's body tensed, her back arched a bit, and both hands dug painfully into Peter's hair. Her tongue snaked lustily around her own quivering lips and their gazes locked as her teeth bit hard on her lower lip, eliciting an incredibly loud groan from Peter.
There was a little scream, smothered in her throat, then another, then a long, drawn-out "ahh" that had several hitches in it as her hips twitched in tempo with her voice.
A huge grimace-smile crossed Olivia's face, her pelvis jerked hard in a single spasm of pleasure and she hissed a long, fervent "Yeesssss", before her head dropped back into the pillows.
Juice poured into Peter's mouth and he lapped it all up, but then kept going, reaching up with both of his hands to fondle her breasts, tweaking her nipples mercilessly as Olivia continued to spasm, keeping her floating in that oblivion of passion until she came again, before he let her down, licking softly at her folds in the aftermath of her climax. He wouldn't stop until he felt Olivia relax completely.
It was a really good come.
Finally she looked down at him, spent, her eyes barely open.
Still, she said nothing, but she was amazed at the feelings Peter had just produced in her body.
He simply looked back at her, smug and quite proud of the way he satisfied her.
"Judging by the looks of it, you liked that a lot, sweetheart. And on a more important note: it seems that you fully regained the mobility of your right hand; you almost plucked my entire hair out, woman," Peter commented snarkily and that earned him a smack on the cheek.
"Okay, that was totally deserved," he grinned sheepishly, now coming to lie next to her, looking into Olivia's sleepy eyes with adoration. "Before you ask: there is no need to return the favour. I already relieved myself couple of hours ago. I wanted tonight to be all about you, Liv."
"Oh, I know," she replied breathlessly, mischievously. "I heard you".
"You…what?", it was Peter's turn to blush. "Oh..," his eyes widened in understanding. "I almost forgot about that super hearing of yours. So… How much did you hear," he seemed mortified.
"Oh, not much. Just you saying my name over and over again," Olivia teased him.
Peter sighed, now laying on his side and staring at her.
"Under different circumstances, I would be totally uncomfortable and embarrassed with this revelation. But, you know, what the heck. You only live once. Olivia…Your name has been the only name I had been saying while cumming ever since I met you. I imagined us being intimate so many times, I had whole scenarios written and played out in my head over the last year."
"So how does this compare?"
"Let's just say that fantasy doesn't even come close to the real thing, and leave it there."
They lay in silence for several minutes and Olivia could feel him stiffen next to her, as if he were unsure of what he was supposed to do.
"Olivia?," he whispered her name with such tenderness and wariness it almost broke her. "Do you want me to leave now?"
She was relieved that Peter didn't pressurize her. He was giving her space to decide, to back out and it only made Olivia pull him closer, accommodating her still wet hair on Peter's warm, pliable chest.
Peter said nothing to that, just sighed happily and caressed her head.
"Peter…"
"Hmmm?", he turned to look at her in the eyes.
Their gazes locked for several seconds, each of them scrutinizing the other one and Peter was the first who spoke.
"Wait. Listen, Olivia. It's okay. I am ready to follow your pace, whatever that might be. I know what you are going to say next and it's totally fine with me. What happens in Iraq stays in Iraq, right?", his faux cheerfulness caught her unprepared and she felt him put on his mask again.
Obedient Peter was back, resigned but decided to accept his role yet again.
To be whom she wanted him to be.
"Well you are such a poor mind reader, Mr. Bishop, at least when it comes to me, if I may say so."
"Oh really? So that wasn't at all what you were going to say, then?"
"Mm-mm," the movement of her head was negative, her amber eyes twinkling in the semidarkness of the room.
"What was it, then?," he whispered barely audibly and Olivia could sense him gulp and swallow twice as her head was just under Peter's chin. "What were you going to…say?"
"I could get used to this."
THE END