So, here's the next installment. It's a short chapter, but needed to set the stage for things to come. Thanks again guys for sticking with this story...there's a lot more drama in the works...but maybe this chapter will satisfy any smut cravings.....;)

Elliot knocked softly, and listened for her footsteps. He heard the deadbolts being undone, and soon was face to face with her. He was soaked with rain, his breath heavy.

She simply stood aside, letting him enter. She was still angry with him, but watching the beads of moisture dripping down his face and neck was doing something to quell that anger.

They stood still, simply staring. Olivia folded her arms across her chest, leaning back against the wall. Her breath hitched in her throat when she saw him move closer to her.

"Liv," he breathed. "Please forgive me."

She refused to meet his gaze, and he took a few more steps to close the gap between them.

He was so close, yet still so far away.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," she heard him say.

And his hold on her became too much. "I know," she whispered.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and felt her tense and then relax beneath his grasp. His hands ran down the length of her arms, and he laced his fingers with hers. He took one final step to fuse their bodies.

She felt the cold dampness of his clothes seeping through her silk robe, and felt a shiver take over. He tipped her chin so that her eyes looked right into his own—dark pools of raw desire.

He kissed her, soft and sensuous, and felt a jolt through his system. Her tongue slid against his own, and she softly moaned into his mouth. He tangled one hand into her hair, and pressed against her even more. Her body was hot, and he felt her hands moving up his chest. She beckoned his attention down to her neck, where he claimed the soft skin just beneath her ear lobe. He laved her neck with kisses, feeling her pulse point throbbing beneath his lips.

He loosened the sash on her robe, letting it fall slowly open. He ran his hands around her bare waist and down the sides of her hips, as she cried out quietly. He was still clothed, but she could feel his hardness pressed against her belly.

She grabbed at the hem of his soaking tee shirt, peeling it off of him and tossing it to the floor. He kissed her mouth hard, threatening to devour her. She pulled away, taking him by the hand, leading him to her bed.

He was around her once again, and she felt the mattress behind her legs. He slid her robe off of her shoulders, and the silken garment fell to the floor. She stood before him, completely naked and vulnerable.

She impatiently toyed with the zipper of his pants, and he assisted her in removing all that remained between them. She whimpered softly as he lifted her up and lay her down on the bed. He was over her, nibbling lightly on her neck and collarbone.

She reached down between them and grasped his erection, eliciting a groan from him that lit her on fire. He moved his mouth to nibble at her breasts, and she writhed in pleasure beneath him.

She pushed him back and sat up suddenly, putting pressure against him and forcing him to the bed. He looked up at her in surprise as she straddled him, an infectious smile painting her features.

He ran his hands up the outside of her thighs and over her hips. She leant down and kissed his mouth briefly, before grasping his hardness once again. She guided him to the spot where she needed him the most.

They sighed in unison at the contact. She sheathed him completely, and tossed back her head, reveling in the sensation. He grasped her hips, increasing the tempo. Her actions mirrored his, her movements hard, purposeful, and desperate.

Sweat covered them both as they became closer and closer to oblivion. Her moans mixed with his heavy breath, and with the final thrusts, they both were encased in bliss. Her cries became raspy, his teeth clenched. Eventually, their spent bodies relaxed, and she fell in a heap on top of him, her hair splayed across his pillow.

Elliot awoke with a start, his body reeling. He wasn't sure what had awoken him so suddenly, but while lying there, his body reminded him of his very vivid dream.

And then there was the noise again.

He sat up sharply, listening through the silence and darkness.

Sobbing.

He practically leapt from the sofa to get to her. He reached the bedside, and could see her face, bathed in moonlight and twisted with emotion. She was mumbling something so softly; he could not make it out. He gently took her by the shoulders, trying to nudge her from her nightmare.

"Liv," he whispered.

Upon hearing his voice, she awoke to Harris' face leering over her. His hands were on her again, and she cried out in terror once more.

She stared into his face, pleading with him and begging him not to hurt her. She put her hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

"Liv!" Elliot said loudly.

This broke her trance, and she became aware that it was not Harris. It was Elliot.

He gathered her up, holding her close against him as she continued to cry. Her hair was soft against his bare chest. His heart was breaking for her. To see this woman, the one who had always been so strong, so uncontrollably lost in emotion—it was almost more than he could bear.

He didn't speak, he just existed for her. After a few long moments, her sobs receded and she was calm. He reached to the night stand for a Kleenex and offered it to her.

She dabbed at her eyes. "Elliot, I'm so sorry," she sniffled.

"Ssh," he soothed. "It's over now."

"No, no it's not," she cried. "It starts all over again every time I close my eyes."

He knew what she meant without even having to ask.

"Liv, he can't hurt you anymore. He can never hurt you again."

She backed away from him, adjusting the covers over her legs. "I've never been so scared in all of my life," she said softly.

"You don't have to say anything—," Elliot said, but her words cut into his thoughts.

"Yes I do, El," she said. "I want you to know what happened."

She drew a shaky breath, trying to clear her head. She fidgeted with her hands, unable to look him in the eyes.

"It didn't take long for me to know that Harris was behind those attacks at Sealview. After the lockdown, we were all confused and wanted to know what the hell was going on. I smarted off to Harris, and he grabbed me and said he was taking me to the Hall." She paused, breathing deep, before continuing.

"But I soon figured out he had other plans for me. He took me to the basement, and he beat me up pretty good."

She felt sick to her stomach, reliving the terror all over again. She covered her face with her hands.

"I….I tried to fight him off….but I knew it wasn't going to do any good. No one knew where we were; he had total control. He….he…forced me to the floor and….," her words were thick with swallowed sobs. "He handcuffed me….and he was standing over me…..I knew what he was going to do. He….he unzipped his pants and….tried to force me to….to…." Her tears were streaming anew, but she continued.

"I couldn't do anything—I couldn't move, couldn't scream. If Fin hadn't found me when he did, I knew Harris would….would…"

Elliot couldn't stand another minute. He scooped her up, practically placing her in his lap. He held her face close to his chest as she cried again.

"In all the years I've been working for SVU, I've never really known exactly what was going through the victims' minds when they were being attacked. But I do now," her voice was strangled with tears.

"I've faced off with the worst perps, and none of them have ever made me feel afraid. Not until Harris. He's taken something from me that I don't know if I'll ever get back."

Elliot cradled her, not speaking, just being. He tried to calm her shaking.

And even through her tears, Olivia could feel something lift off of her soul. A wave of relief washed over her, thankful to be free of the burden. In all the therapy sessions with Huang, she had staunchly refused to discuss the details of her attack. She had been holding it inside all this time, and the weight had threatened to crush her.

Composure began to return to her, and she pulled back from Elliot's embrace, still perched almost completely in his lap.

"I've, um….I haven't talked about this to anyone. You're the only one I would trust to know. And I…I wanted to tell you before, but I felt so ashamed and weak."

He reached his hand up to her face, wiping away a stray tear. His heart was bursting with the knowledge that she trusted him above anyone else—enough to share something so personally painful.

"I'm glad it was me that you told," he replied, drawing her close once again. And he was.

She nestled her head in the hollow of his shoulder, entranced by the sense of peace that simply opening up had brought her.

He cradled her with one hand, and stroked her hair with the other. She became silent and still, and after a while he realized that she had fallen asleep. He still remained with her, not wanting to break the contact. But he knew that he had to. He knew he could not stay.

He slid her from his lap back to the bed, trying not to wake her. He fixed the covers around her, and fought back an imminent need to be next to her. He sat beside her sleeping form, illuminated from the night glow filtering in from the bedroom window.

He stayed with her for over an hour, before deciding to return to the couch. He lay awake, vaguely recalling the dream he had had earlier in the night. But his desire for her, no matter how strong, had been replaced with the need to protect her, to save her. He only hoped he wouldn't lose everything else in the process.