Chapter Note:
The club chapter... CAVEAT FOR ALL READERS - PLEASE TAKE NOTE: THIS STORY GOES TO REALLY DARK PLACES. The content in this chapter is not easy to read, and certain aspects may be upsetting/re-traumatizing for some people. I was terrified to post this chapter all those years ago, and am still nervous to post it (for new readers) today... There is a reason this story is called 'Breaking Point'...
Music for this chapter was really important for me. The club was all about Massive Attack while I wrote this: "Black Milk" and "Angel" from their Mezzanine album, and "Butterfly Caught" and "Antistar" from their 100th Window album. I make a reference to trip-hop music in this chapter, and the aforementioned songs encapsulate what I hear in my head when I picture Elliot and Olivia there.
Chapter Seven
The Lincoln slowed to a stop in front of them, and a large man that was best described as a bouncer-type got out of the front passenger door. "You Carl?" he asked.
"Who's asking?" Elliot replied with a steely glare.
The man took a few menacing steps in his direction, staring him down before slowly walking around them and stopping inches from Elliot's face. When Elliot showed no signs of intimidation he chuckled and backed off a bit before saying, "Who I am is not important. What you need to know is that I work for Nikolai, and I would strongly advise you to answer his questions on the first try." He accentuated this last statement by opening the left side of his jacket to reveal the gun holstered on his hip.
Elliot's eyes remained icy but he said, "Yeah, I'm Carl."
The man shifted his attention and leered at Olivia, looking her up and down in a predatory fashion. Olivia averted her gaze as he approached her. He reeked of cigarettes and sweat. "And who might you be?" he asked.
Olivia glanced up at Elliot, which was difficult given the way she was pinned against him, silently asking his permission to answer the question.
"Answer the man," Elliot responded with another tug of his arm around her neck.
"Tara," she said quietly, her eyes glued to the ground.
The man smiled at Elliot, obviously enjoying the dynamic he had just witnessed between them.
"Well then," he said moving to open the back door, "I think you have somewhere that you're trying to be, no?"
Elliot removed his arm from Olivia and instead took hold of her left wrist as he moved toward the car, sliding across the backseat and pulling Olivia in after him. When they were both inside, the man shut the door and returned to his spot in the front passenger seat. The driver continued to look forward, and Elliot and Olivia uneasily heard the sound of the automatic door locks clicking into place when he shifted into gear. The thug turned around to face them as they started to drive off, tossing two black hoods in their direction while he held up his gun as a warning. "Put them on," he ordered.
"What the fuck is this?" Elliot demanded.
"You want to reap the rewards you do as I say. Nobody sees where this club is, nobody gets hurt." With that he cocked the gun and pointed it at Olivia.
Olivia's breathing quickened as she stared down the barrel. "C-Carl?" she asked with a desperate tinge to her voice.
"Here baby, put this on," Elliot said, handing her one of the hoods. "This better be worth it," he glowered at the man before pulling the other one over his head, relieved when he heard him uncock his gun.
"Oh don't worry," the man snickered, turning back to face the road. "Haven't had a disappointed customer yet."
The hood was opaque, which meant that Olivia was enveloped in total darkness. If there was one thing that unnerved her more than anything else, it was being unable to scan her environment for potential danger, something that she relied upon so heavily in the field. Granted at present, she rationalized, they no longer posed any threat in their current state, so she figured the chances of them being gunned down in the backseat were pretty slim. Unfortunately, her body was not listening to her logic. Her heart was racing and her other senses were on overdrive. She felt every bump, jostle, and turn more acutely, and she had long since lost track of which direction they were headed, which made the thought of ripping the damn hood off of her head all the more tempting. Suddenly the car slammed into a large pothole. Her left hand instinctively darted out to brace herself and she found herself gripping onto something firm and unyielding and what she quickly realized was Elliot's leg, just above his knee. Embarrassed, she snatched her hand away as though she had been burned and took hold of the edge of the seat instead.
Elliot smiled beneath his hood, understanding her reaction. He would have liked to move to reassure her by holding her hand, but as Carl, he figured that exuding ownership was key, so he reached over to her and put his hand on her upper thigh.
Olivia's breath hitched. If he had been trying to distract her from the bumpy ride, he had certainly succeeded. Whereas a moment prior her obscured vision had brought the unpredictable motion of the car to the forefront, this had now been completely eclipsed by the sensation of his hand on her skin. This was yet another first to add to what was becoming an increasingly long list of things that she had never thought would happen with Elliot Stabler – ever. It was appropriate under the guise of his cover, she reasoned, and she tried to remind herself that it did not necessarily mean anything. There had been a time when she had driven herself crazy by reading into every lingering glance, every infinitesimal shift in body language, every perceived indication that there might be a glimmer of hope at the possibility of developing a relationship that extended beyond friendship. She could not do that to herself again. It only ended up resulting in disappointment.
But then there was the kiss. She closed her eyes, once again losing herself in the recollection. There had been something contained within that kiss that had been unlike anything she had ever experienced. He had regarded her with such tenderness – reverence, almost. The way that he had caressed her with his hands, his lips, his tongue, had been as though he had been committing her to memory – a way to hold on to something pure, untouched by the ugliness of the night to come. She swallowed and realized that she could still taste him. She shivered, and he must have thought that she was cold because he increased the gentle pressure of his hand, running his thumb back and forth along the outside of her thigh. She froze, desperately trying to regain some of her control.
Elliot felt her muscle tense beneath him, and he stilled the movement of his thumb but did not remove his hand. He had meant the gesture to be helpful. The last thing he wanted to do was to make her feel more uncomfortable.
As the minutes stretched on, Olivia found herself relaxing somewhat as she grew accustomed to the reassuring warmth of his palm. Now, when the car made a quick turn or hit a bumpy patch of pavement, Elliot's fingers would curl around her, grounding her in the blackness.
Eventually they came to a stop, and were ushered somewhat forcefully from the car, blindly stumbling forward with the encouragement of some shoves to the back before finally being granted their sight back when they reached a dark hallway.
"Against the wall," the man ordered as he yanked their hoods and jackets off, moving to pat Elliot down.
Elliot did nothing to mask his annoyance though he complied with the request. "Don't you think I would have tried something by now if I was packing?" he asked, his palms against the wall. He hoped that the transmitters would escape detection, worrying that they might be more noticeable than he had thought when he checked them at Olivia's apartment. Thankfully the man did not seem to notice, either because he was concentrating on looking for something more bulky, or perhaps because he was distracted by the conversation.
"Well, we can't be too careful now, can we?" he responded, his words taking on new meaning as he smirked, turning his attentions to Olivia.
She gritted her teeth as his filthy hands lingered longer than necessary over her curves.
"You satisfied, yet?" Elliot snarled, taking a step toward her.
The man smiled slyly, moving his hands even more slowly over her hips and butt. "I think so," he replied, punctuating his statement with a smack of his hand.
Olivia resisted the urge to whirl around and break his arm clean off. She straightened as his hands finally fell away, and was relieved when Elliot moved to her side wrapping his arm possessively around her middle, his hand resting on her hip.
"Follow me," the man continued, leading them down the hall.
The floor was made of cement, and they had not passed any windows, leading Elliot to wonder whether they were underground. As they approached the door at the far end of the corridor, they began to hear the sounds of muted bass resonating from the room beyond. Another guard stood at the end of the hall and he nodded as they approached, swinging open the door that looked as though it should belong on the entrance to a bomb shelter. They passed through and heard as it closed behind them with a metallic clank.
The room before them was expansive. The walls were painted red and the floor black, the only illumination emanating from candles, sparse track lighting and strategically placed crystal sconces along the wall. The effect was dramatic, as much of the room was left in darkness while the rest was basked in an eerie crimson glow. Black leather upholstered couches and booths were scattered along the walls, with tables in front of many that were draped in what appeared to be satin tablecloths in shades of red and gold, the candlelight flickering and reflecting off of the iridescent fabric. Mottled glass dividers served to create separation throughout the vast space, also acting as visual blockades for a few areas of the club for those patrons who wished to have some privacy.
They were escorted past the bar, with an extensive and expensive looking collection of liquors, the colors of the bottles reflecting off of a mirrored shelving system. The counter was made of a frosted white glass, lit from beneath and illuminating the face of the bartender whose body cast shadows along the wall and ceiling as he moved. As they rounded the corner, they passed one of the couches where a scantily clad woman reclined across a man's lap, a tourniquet on her arm as another man injected her with some sort of drug, most likely heroin. Continuing on, they passed several more shadowy couples engaged in various sex acts, any sounds they made drowned out by the melancholy trip-hop music echoing throughout the space.
At the far side of the room they saw a stage where a woman's lithe body was spiraling down a pole, her movements captivating those seated nearby. Elliot felt Olivia stiffen beside him and looked over to see what had captured her attention. Beyond the stage the adjacent wall was made of glass, showcasing a series of recessed rooms. Yet instead of a traditional peep show, Nikolai's version revealed women being forcibly held down, beaten, and raped, some by a single man, some trapped with as many as five. As Elliot and Olivia watched, one woman was slammed into the glass, her face contorted in an anguished cry that was inaudible to the spectators on the outside. Olivia shuddered and Elliot tightened his grip on her hip, pulling her closely against him as they continued to follow their guide.
Eventually the man turned to face them, gesturing to a booth nestled in an alcove created by two of the glass partitions and the back wall. It was relatively secluded but still afforded them a view of the bulk of the club. Elliot turned into Olivia, placing both hands on her hips as he directed her forward. She slid along the cushion as he followed closely behind her, his right arm draping across the top of the seat back behind her as his left rested on the table.
The man grinned at Elliot. "Enjoy," he said over his shoulder as he walked away.
Shortly after he had left, a woman approached them to take drink orders.
"Jack Daniels on the rocks," he responded.
She turned toward Olivia. "What about–"
"She's not having anything," he snapped, glaring at her menacingly for even acknowledging Olivia's presence.
"S-sorry," she stammered, ducking her head as she slunk back toward the bar.
"Bastard," Olivia cursed under her breath.
Elliot narrowed his eyes, grabbing her by the hair.
She winced.
Carl's temper had just made its first appearance, and it caught Olivia slightly off guard.
"What was that?" he hissed in her ear.
"N-nothing," she replied.
He wrenched her head to the side, trailing the back of his other hand down the side of her face and neck. "Say you're sorry," he purred.
The aggressiveness of his hold coupled with the seductive gentleness of the gesture unnerved her. "Sorry," she mumbled, goosebumps standing out where his breath met her skin.
"I didn't get that," he gritted, jerking her head back.
"I'm s-sorry," she repeated.
He released her roughly, resuming his prior position, though this time his right arm curled around her neck, his hand grazing her breast. She was tucked closely into his side, his body warming away the chills brought about by his earlier actions. She felt the tension in his muscles ebb away and watched as he extended his left hand toward the candle, his fingers dancing through the flame.
The woman returned with his drink, placing it down and hurriedly walking away as he studied her with contempt.
He lifted the glass to his lips, swirling the contents around with a circular motion of his hand before draining half of it in one swallow. He knew that Olivia was as on edge as he was, and undoubtedly pissed as hell at him for denying her a drink, but he wanted to be one hundred percent certain her judgment was not impaired for every last second that they were stuck in this hell hole. His eyes roamed the room, trying to appear as though he was enjoying the view. As his eyes drifted toward the bar, he noticed a shadowy figure emerge from a door along the wall, flanked by two imposing looking bodyguards.
Elliot quickly returned his gaze to the pole dancer, forcing himself to look both amused and aroused as he watched as she tried to free herself from the clutches of two men that had scaled the stage and were forcibly hauling her to the floor. Elliot flattened his palm along Olivia's chest, skimming it back and forth along the tops of her breasts as his left hand resumed its prior manipulation of the candle flame. He turned his head toward her. "Nikolai," he breathed into her ear.
She shivered against him, wanting nothing more than to stay exactly where she was at that moment, but she understood what she needed to do and so she attempted to pull away. Elliot allowed her to move far enough so that it made it more apparent when he yanked her back against him. He shifted toward her in the seat so that her back was now flush against his chest, his right hand holding her in place while his left arm snaked around her middle. This position caused Olivia to be slightly reclined, drawing more attention to the quick rise and fall of her chest, her breasts barely concealed by the low cut fabric of her dress. Her head rested against his shoulder, his mouth brushing her temple as he drawled, "Now just where do you think you're going?"
She arched against him, trying to free herself from his grasp, her eyes wide as she made it appear as though she was afraid of him.
"Uh-uh-uh," he reprimanded, drawing his left hand along her stomach as his right moved to massage her breast.
Her eyes drifted closed, but she still attempted to wriggle out of his hold, whimpering when he tweaked her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He hauled her further up along his body, perching her on his thigh. He released her breast, trailing his hand up to the juncture of her throat and jaw, turning her face to his as he bent down and captured her lips with his own. She fought against his hand, trying to turn away from him. He held her in place, using his left arm to pivot her around to face him as he deepened the kiss, tangling his hand in her hair. She tasted the traces of his whiskey as his tongue invaded her mouth and wished that the remnants of alcohol could be strong enough to calm her jittery nerves. As it was, she felt as though her heart was about to explode from the adrenaline.
She brought her hands up between them, pushing against the solid wall of his chest as hard as she could, her arms shaking from the strain. He countered her efforts by quickly raising his left arm from her waist to her upper back, easily preventing her from pulling away. She was finding it difficult to catch her breath, her body struggling against the urge to submit to his advances as her mind forced her to continue to fight him. Eventually he ripped his mouth from hers as they both gasped for air. Their eyes locked, and for a moment all was stripped away as neither did anything to mask their desire. Olivia flushed and ducked her head, knowing that Elliot had seen the way she had looked at him. Elliot had every reason to look at her the way that he did as part of his cover, but she wasn't supposed to be turned on; she was supposed to be terrified.
For his part, Elliot was completely aware of the fact that his current loss of control had absolutely nothing to do with the undercover op. He wanted nothing more than to see that look in her eyes again – as though something had been unleashed within her – and to know that he was the cause of it.
Knowing full well that his motivations were purely selfish, he moved his hand to grab her chin, tilting her head up to face him. She swallowed as he held her gaze, awareness plastered across his features. This time the fear in her eyes was real. She knew that Elliot had just seen straight through every single protective barrier she had ever constructed to conceal the depths of her feelings for him.
His eyes darkened and he bent forward, his lips descending on her neck as his hand returned to cup the back of her head. He trailed a path down her neck, licking and biting and sucking on the tender flesh. When he reached the base of her throat he pulled her head to the side, suckling on a spot just above her collarbone, unable to resist the urge to mark her as his own. A smile tugged at his lips as he realized she would probably kill him for this tomorrow. A shudder passed through her. She knew what he was doing, but instead of feeling anger at his possessiveness, she found it incredibly erotic.
Still operating under the assumption that they had been able to get Nikolai's attention, she continued her struggles against him, pushing and twisting to try to break free of his grasp. "Stop," she said.
He snapped his head up, tightening his grip on her hair and forcing her head back as he glared down at her. "Shut up," he barked.
"Let me go!"
He moved his hands, grabbing her roughly by her upper arms, shaking her. "I said shut the fuck up."
She brought up her hands intending to pummel his chest and he caught her wrists in midair, yanking her toward him, stealing a glance in Nikolai's direction in the process. They had most definitely caught his attention.
Elliot let go of her left wrist, using his free arm to pull her against him. She fell forward, her chest pressing against his, her head over his shoulder. He moved his mouth over her ear. "Transmitter," he whispered.
She arched backwards trying to push herself off of him with her left hand. He maintained his hold on her right wrist, his other hand gripping her hip, and began to shove her down his body.
"No!" she cried. She thrashed as much as possible, but eventually lost the battle as she slid to the ground.
Once she was concealed beneath the table, Elliot relaxed his hold on her, infinitely grateful for the visual barrier provided by the tablecloth. Olivia was trying to catch her breath, every muscle in her body tense as she knelt at his feet. As if sensing her anxiety, Elliot brought both of his hands up to rest lightly on her shoulders, tracing soothing concentric circles along her shoulder blades. After a few moments, he withdrew his right hand, sliding it into his pocket and handing her the first transmitter. She activated it, locking the small switch into position. She handed it back to him and he replaced it with the shared understanding that if something went wrong they would want to make sure they still had it in their possession to deactivate it. Provided Nikolai approached them as anticipated, they would have to find a place to stash it whenever they got to the next room.
Another minute went by and Olivia waited for some signal from Elliot. She felt physically and emotionally drained and allowed herself to rest her head against his knee. He ran his fingers through her hair, thankful for the opportunity to offer her some gentleness. She closed her eyes, relishing the contact, taking comfort in the repetitive motion of his hand. Despite the inherent danger of the operation, at that moment Elliot had managed to make her feel completely safe.
Unfortunately, just as soon as she had begun to relax, his hand stilled, his fingers tensing against her.
"Mr. Edwards," Nikolai spoke. "Enjoying my establishment?"
Elliot smiled. "Yeah, nice place you got here."
"Trust me when I say that you don't want her to finish," he leered gesturing to the table. "I can make it worth your while."
"Oh?" Elliot asked, his eyebrows arching in interest. He straightened, hauling Olivia up from underneath the table. Somewhere along the process of sliding up his body her leg managed to brush across his lap, the effect instantaneous as he hardened beneath her. He clenched his jaw, relieved that this had not happened on her way down.
If Olivia noticed, she didn't let on. She drew the back of her hand along her mouth, looking at him in confusion and fear before peering over at Nikolai, noting the two bodyguards that stood a few feet away.
Nikolai raked his eyes over her body. "Yes," he smirked, addressing Elliot while continuing his slimy appraisal of Olivia. "I think we can come up with a…partnership of sorts."
Elliot cocked his head, a slow smile spreading across his features. "What did you have in mind?"
"Please," Nikolai said, gesturing for Elliot to join him a few feet away.
Elliot shifted, slightly unzipping and re-zipping his fly beneath the table to complete the illusion before standing to follow.
They walked out of earshot, and Olivia tried to shake the lingering feeling of revulsion from Nikolai's scrutiny. She dug her nails into her palms, missing Elliot's reassuring presence at her side. Nikolai turned from his conversation with Elliot to look at her, a sinister gleam in his eye. Elliot followed his gaze, a similar expression darkening his features. A chill ran down her spine.
He stalked toward her.
"Get up," he commanded.
Nothing about this Elliot was reassuring. She did as she was instructed, sliding along the booth somewhat hesitantly. He grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet and dragging her behind him to return to Nikolai.
Nikolai led the way, eventually stopping to open a door at the end of the hall. He gestured for Elliot to enter, and Elliot did so, all the while maintaining a firm grasp on Olivia's wrist as he pulled her along with him. Nikolai slid his hand underneath his suit jacket, pulling out a gun that had been concealed beneath. He motioned for one of his bodyguards to station himself outside of the door as he stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him. Elliot and Olivia's hearts sank as they heard what sounded like a deadbolt being snapped into place from the outside.
They were trapped.
Their eyes scanned the room. Whereas the rest of the club had been sleek, designed to appeal to what was probably a large percentage of clientele that had a great deal of money, this room was dingy and barren. It was fairly small, the bulk of the space being taken up by a dirty mattress that rested on an old box spring in the middle of the room. A cold feeling of dread began to spread through Elliot's system as he realized that the reason it was not pushed up against one of the walls was most likely to permit Nikolai to view the 'show' from all angles. Throughout the hours that Elliot had agonized over the undercover op, he had managed to convince himself that he would be able to position himself and Olivia in a way that would obstruct Nikolai's view. Ideally, Elliot had hoped that the bed would be in a corner, flush against two walls, but he had also thought about scenarios in which the bed would be placed against one wall – either at the head or one of the sides. Any of these situations would have afforded them at least one blind zone where Nikolai would have been unable to stand. Elliot had been counting on this, because it would have meant that he could have used the angle to his advantage, further concealing Olivia's body with his own, and therefore succeeding in being able to simulate the entire thing. This…this… Nikolai would have free access to view them from all sides.
Olivia winced. Elliot's hand had progressively tightened around her wrist as he internally panicked, and was now constricting to the point of bruising. She turned to him. She knew that look. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed, creating the illusion of confidence and intimidating to those who did not know him better, but the almost imperceptible change in his breathing pattern meant that he was feeling anything but in control of the situation. She decided to speak to try to get his attention, her own nerves evident in her tone. "Carl, what's going on?"
Her use of that name forced Elliot from his train of thought and, although painful, he turned to her, his eyes devoid of affection and his lips curled up into a derisive smile. He said nothing.
Olivia looked fearfully between Elliot and Nikolai. "Carl?" she tried again, her tone becoming more desperate.
Nikolai took several menacing steps toward her, lifting the hand that held his gun and using the cold metal to trace a slow, terrifying path down her neck, her breasts, along her side and the curve of her hip as he spoke. "Well, you see, Carl and I have made certain… arrangements," he drawled.
It was all that Elliot could do not to disarm the bastard and end things there and then, but he did nothing, instead appearing to actually take pleasure in witnessing Nikolai's actions.
As Nikolai finished speaking, he lifted the gun to the side of her face, using it to tilt her head toward the mattress – the dirty, stained mattress that looked all too familiar. She brought her eyes back to his, only minimally surprised to feel the hint of tears beginning to form. It was not going to be difficult for her to tap into the emotions needed to put on a convincing performance. As it was, she was already finding that the boundaries between fiction and reality were becoming ever more blurred. The fact that Elliot, her Elliot, was standing beside her was not enough to prevent the chill she had felt at they way in which he had looked at her a moment ago – without any compassion or recognition.
Her chest was rising and falling rapidly, causing her breasts to strain against and above the constricting fabric of her dress, which only succeeded in fueling Nikolai's twisted enjoyment of her distress. He brought the gun back along the curves of her breasts, this time moving to trail it down her stomach and pelvis. When he reached the hem of her dress he lingered, stroking the bare skin of her leg before dragging the gun slowly and deliberately up her inner thigh.
Olivia let out a frightened whimper as he brushed the metal against her core.
Elliot released his grasp on her wrist as he stepped forward, fists clenched, unable to prevent himself from reacting to the violation.
Nikolai laughed, accepting Elliot's actions as a possessive display rather than a defensive one and withdrawing his hand. "By all means," he said, making a sweeping gesture in her direction. "After all, it's your show."
Olivia turned to Elliot, placing her palms on his chest and looking up at him with a panicked expression. "Carl, please! Please take me home," she begged. "Please don't do this!"
Elliot still said nothing, ignoring her pleas and looking at Nikolai with a smirk on his face.
Nikolai's eyes flashed with anticipation.
Olivia shook her head repeatedly as the tears started to fall. "Please, please don't do this. Please, please no."
Elliot turned his attention back to her, and she watched as his eyes darkened and a predatory look passed across his features.
Olivia shuddered, partly from fear, partly from desire at the animalistic way he was regarding her. "No, no, no," she murmured repetitively as she backed away from him, her chin quivering.
He stalked toward her, impossibly slowly, the tension in the air electric. He had not made a move to touch her yet, but with every step he was encroaching on her space, intimidating her, using his body to remind her of the fact that she was completely at his mercy.
With every step that he took, Olivia backed away further. Silent tears streamed down her face as she pleaded with her eyes for him to stop.
Elliot's expression did not betray any of the inner turmoil he felt at seeing Olivia reduced to tears. Whereas he understood that she, too, had a role to play, he knew that the emotions she was experiencing were all too real. He longed to be able to take her in his arms, hold her, comfort her, to once again become the person with whom she felt safe, protected – not the man that was frightening her and causing her such pain. Yet he knew what was at stake, and so the only expression he permitted to cross his features was one of cold amusement at her terror.
He took another step forward, and this time when Olivia attempted to move away she was stopped abruptly as her back met the wall. She flattened herself against it as he closed in, dwarfing her body with his own. He leaned forward, his face millimeters from hers, studying her before moving his mouth to hover over her ear.
Olivia was trembling.
"There's no place to run," he purred dangerously, his breath hot against her skin.
She whimpered, shutting her eyes and turning her head to the side.
He grabbed her chin forcefully, wrenching her head back to face him as he slammed his left palm against the wall, a mere inch away from her.
She flinched, letting out a small sob as he gave her no choice but to look into his angry eyes.
"I own you," he gritted, snaking his hand behind her to yank her head back by her hair. "You can scream, you can beg, but I'll take what's mine," he growled.
With that his mouth crashed down onto hers, his tongue immediately invading her mouth, muffling her cry of protest. The kiss was hard and forceful, the polar opposite of the kiss they had shared at her apartment, but, God, it was Elliot's lips, teeth, tongue, taking from her, demanding compliance as he pressed himself against her. She could do nothing to prevent her body's reaction to him.
He ground his pelvis against hers and she let out a moan, barely audible as he continued his onslaught against her mouth. She realized that she wasn't supposed to be enjoying any part of this, and she started to fight him, using all of her strength to try to push him off of her, arching back trying to dislodge the vise grip he had on her head.
He was too strong. Her efforts did nothing to loosen his grasp, but he eventually pulled back as though he were angry at her attempts to dissuade him. He moved his hands, gripping her upper arms and shaking her hard, slamming her back against the wall as he pinned her against it.
She cried out in pain, though somewhere in her mind it registered that he had actually pulled her toward him ever so slightly to prevent her from hitting the wall at full force.
From somewhere behind Elliot, Olivia heard Nikolai's laughter. The sound confirmed what they had already known about him: the greater their struggle, the more violent Elliot became, the greater Nikolai's perverse enjoyment at witnessing Olivia's suffering. For the briefest of moments she saw a flicker of a question dancing across Elliot's features. She answered him by increasing her attempts to fight him in the only way she could. Still pinned tightly against the wall, she bent her arms at the elbows to use her hands to push against the hard planes of Elliot's chest, squirming as much as she could to try to break free of his grasp. She didn't have much range of motion but she managed to get in one good kick, connecting with his shin.
Olivia had just upped the ante. Elliot realized that she knew her action would force his hand. They knew these profiles backwards and forwards. "Bitch," he cursed, raising his hand and slapping her across the face.
Olivia cried out again, cowering away from him.
He grabbed both of her wrists in his left hand, pinning them above her head as he used one of his legs to force hers apart, moving between them and effectively preventing her from using them to defend herself.
She sniffed, taking a few uncoordinated, shuddering breaths as she quietly sobbed before him.
He lifted his right hand, his thumb tracing lazily over the dips and curves of her collarbone before raising his hand to encircle the column of her throat.
She whimpered, her eyes widening in fear as his fingers gradually tightened around her.
"You know," he warned, "you're just making this harder on yourself." He studied her coolly as she fought for breath.
In truth, his grasp was firm, but not to the extent that he was blocking her airway. Olivia held her breath to help the effect, her face turning red as she mimicked gasping for air. She pulled against the hand holding her wrists above her to no avail, eventually allowing her body to go slack in submission as her oxygen slowly depleted.
He released his stranglehold on her at this point, using his body to support her weight as she coughed, her chest heaving as she took in large gulps of air. Barely affording her a moment to collect herself, he held her gaze as he drew his hand down her reddened throat to cup her breast through her dress, squeezing it in his palm and drawing his thumb across her nipple.
She drew in a sharp intake of breath, her nipple hardening immediately at the sensation.
He leered at her, making no attempts to hide the fact that he was well aware of her reaction. "Like I said," he rumbled smugly, flattening his palm and slowly drawing it down her abdomen, "I own you." He continued the downward motion of his palm, his heart in his throat as he deliberately pushed forward against the material of her dress so that his hand brushed across her center.
She let out a sound that was a mixture between a whimper and a moan, tears spilling out over her cheeks as her eyes drifted closed.
"Spin her around," Nikolai commanded.
Elliot set his jaw. The bastard wanted a better view.
Olivia's eyes snapped open to meet his. "Please, no," she choked. "Carl, please, please let me go."
Elliot swallowed, recognizing the deliberate use of that name as her means of communicating with him. He used the hand holding her wrists to pull her from the wall, never letting go as he pivoted to stand behind her. Once their positions were reversed, he brought her arms down so that they folded against her chest, only then releasing his grip on her wrists to wrap his arm around her, pinning her arms to her chest and her body against his. He leaned back against the wall, pulling her off balance so that she would not have the leverage needed to struggle.
Olivia sobbed against him as she faced Nikolai, watching as he stared lasciviously in her direction. She trembled under his scrutiny, and he shifted his gaze to smile at Elliot, who bit back the bile rising in his throat and smirked in response.
However futile, Olivia attempted to wriggle out of his grasp, trying to make her body as heavy as possible in attempts to make it more difficult for Elliot to restrain her. He might as well have been holding a feather; he used his left arm to haul her more tightly against his chest, easily preventing her from escaping. "I thought I made myself clear," he said against her ear. He slid his right hand down her thigh, digging his fingers into her flesh before drawing his hand back up to move over her stomach. He felt her muscles tense as his hand resumed its downward path, his intended destination crystal clear. "I take what I want," he purred, his hand reaching the crux of her thighs, once again pressing his hand inward through the barriers of fabric to drag along her core.
She whimpered, shaking, feeling the liquid heat pool between her legs.
Elliot began moving his hand back and forth, starting a rhythm of slow, steady strokes.
Olivia squirmed, once again trying to free herself from his grasp.
He jerked her roughly against him. "And you're going to give it to me."
She shook her head in protest. "Please, stop," she pleaded, her voice cracking.
His hand was relentless, and her struggles only succeeded in heightening the sensations she was trying to avoid. Gradually she succumbed to the slow, continuous motion of his hand, a strangled moan escaping from her lips.
Elliot chuckled.
Nikolai licked his lips, obviously enjoying the sight before him. "Pull up her skirt," he commanded. "I want to watch you finger fuck her."
Olivia tensed in his arms.
Elliot felt sick. The fact that he was not even able to make eye contact with Olivia was killing him, but he took hold of the hem of her dress.
"No!" Olivia cried, straining as she tried to regain the freedom to move her arms.
He yanked the form-fitting material up over her hips. A thin scrap of black lace was now the only barrier obstructing Nikolai's view. Elliot was not about to get rid of it, and he prayed that Nikolai wouldn't tell him to do so.
Olivia shivered. She felt exposed and frightened and mortified at the fact that Elliot was about to know exactly how powerful of an effect he had over her body.
Elliot trailed his fingers across the top of her panties, trying to give her as much warning as possible.
"No!" she said again as she struggled against him, glaring at Nikolai through her tears.
Nikolai laughed, amused by the fact that she was trying to look intimidating even in her current state.
She twisted her head to the side as she felt Elliot's hand slip beneath the lace, steeling herself for the contact and not wanting to have to see Nikolai when it happened. She cried out as Elliot thrust two fingers inside of her, his hand slipping along her slick folds.
She was so wet, and Elliot felt like a complete asshole as he immediately lost all control, his erection pressing against her.
Olivia's eyes closed as she felt him harden behind her, her breath coming in shallow pants as her lungs fought against the crushing weight of his arm.
He repeated the motion of his hand, curling his fingers to apply pressure on the sensitive spot on her inner wall.
She gasped, losing herself in the sensation.
Again and again his fingers plunged inside of her, his pace relentless and rendering her completely under his control. Her inner muscles were clamping around him tighter and tighter, the heel of his hand brushing along her clit with every stroke. Elliot growled, unable to prevent himself from thrusting against her. The sounds she was making were unintelligible – whimpers of pain and pleasure intermingling and becoming indistinguishable from one another.
Her head lolled back on his shoulder, and she turned into his neck. She had long since lost any control over the situation, and although she trusted Elliot implicitly, the fact that he had managed to render her so completely helpless left her feeling incredibly vulnerable. She breathed in his scent and tried to imagine that it was just the two of them – somewhere safe and private and far away from prying eyes.
Elliot knew that she was close and he drew his thumb across her clit once, twice, and she let out a startled cry, her walls convulsing around him as her legs buckled beneath her. Elliot supported her weight, leaving his fingers inside of her as he felt the aftershocks gradually wane; his heart breaking as she gradually came down, her shoulders shaking against him as she sobbed. He felt Nikolai's eyes on him, and he withdrew his fingers, wiping her juices along her thigh. "You can cry all the fuck you want. I'm nowhere near done with you," he said coldly, pulling her back against his erection.
"Fuck you!" she spat, addressing her comment to the both of them.
Nikolai's eyes gleamed as he strode toward her, closing in until his body was practically touching hers. Olivia was pinned between the two of them, and though she was already closely pressed against Elliot, she attempted to shrink back even further into the relative safety of his arms. Nikolai brought his hand to her face, clutching her jaw painfully.
Her nostrils flared as she looked at him with contempt, resisting the urge to spit at him only because of the gun jabbing into her abdomen.
"You've got quite the mouth on you, don't you?" he said, increasing the pressure on her jaw even more.
Olivia inhaled sharply but did not cry out. She refused to give him the satisfaction.
"I'm sure we can put it to better use, now can't we?" he sneered, looking over her shoulder at Elliot.
Elliot's blood ran cold as he realized Nikolai's intent.
"Blow him," he ordered her, shoving her head back harshly as he released his grip on her jaw.
Olivia's heart was pounding and she felt like she could not get enough air.
Elliot must have been aware of the rapid increase of her breathing, because he released his restrictive hold around her chest and spun her to face him, his hands tightly grabbing onto her wrists – partly to restrain her, partly to help hold her up.
Olivia's eyes were squeezed shut as a steady stream of tears flowed down her cheeks.
"Look at me," he snapped, desperate to make eye contact with her.
Olivia didn't respond. She had been humiliated by the extent of her reaction to his touch, and was terrified at the prospect of looking into his eyes.
He shook her forcefully, causing her to cry harder.
"I said fucking look at me!" he repeated.
She took in a shuddering breath as she forced herself to meet his gaze.
He suddenly wished that he had had the forethought to move her against one of the walls, because at this angle he had no way of concealing his expression from Nikolai. She let out an audible sob, and he used it as an excuse to shake her again, pivoting to shove her against the side wall. It wasn't perfect, but it gave him a small window of opportunity.
"Shut up!" he snarled. His features remained hardened in anger, but his eyes softened as he hissed, "I want you to say it."
He paused, his eyes silently pleading with her: Say the words."
"Tell me you want it," he continued, hoping that Nikolai wouldn't pick up on anything out of the ordinary.
Olivia understood his meaning but would not give up – not after everything they had already been through. She shook her head. "No."
He released her wrists, slamming both of his hands against the wall on either side of her head. "Say it!" he yelled in her face.
She flinched. "No!" she cried, seizing the chance to duck beneath his arm, stumbling away from him.
She didn't get far as he whipped around, grabbing her by the hair. She cried out in pain, bending backwards toward his hand. He yanked her back around to face him.
"Get on your fucking knees," he growled. His voice cracked as he spoke and he hoped that Nikolai would chalk it up to arousal instead of agony.
"No," she begged him, clutching his shirt in her hands. "Please don't make me do this. Please!"
"I said, get, the fuck, down," he gritted.
She whimpered as he pried her fingers off of him, shoving her mercilessly to the ground as she fought him every step of the way. Her knees banged against the cold cement as she dropped before him, her hands clutching his thighs as she continued to sob.
He held her gaze as he unzipped his pants, exposing himself to her.
Elliot felt ill. He would be lying to himself if he said that he had never fantasized about a scenario in which Olivia would be kneeling before him, but God, not like this – never like this. Her tear-streaked face peered up at him, her eyes imploring him to stop.
He heard Nikolai chuckle and he swallowed. He couldn't stall any longer.
He looked down at her coldly. "You bite me and you're dead," he snarled.
Harris.
As soon as the words left his lips he knew that something had just gone horribly wrong. Olivia's entire body went rigid, paralyzed in fear. Her face paled and her eyes widened with a look that contained so much fear, panic, and pain that it practically ripped him in two. She had stopped breathing. She was silent. Although she continued to look up at him, it was as though she was looking straight through him. Then just as quickly as she had frozen, she broke apart, shuddering uncontrollably, her entire body wracked with sobs. Her chest was heaving so violently that every rapid breath she took was a desperate gasp for air.
Elliot was petrified.
Olivia had lost the ability to form coherent thoughts, let alone speak, and was overcome by such pervasive terror that the only thing she knew on an instinctual level was that she had to escape. She pushed herself back, trying to scramble away from him on her hands and knees. She had barely moved more than a foot before Elliot bent over her, his strong arms wrapping around her middle and pulling her against him. Her back was pressed against his chest, her arms and legs lightly brushing against the floor as he lifted her just high enough to prevent her from crawling away. She cried out in fear, the sound a mixture between a wail and a scream.
Shut up!
Let go of me!
She was no longer sure of where she was, the tears blurring and distorting her vision as the floor seemed to twist in front of her.
Elliot shifted her in his arms, allowing her to kneel once again as he turned her to face him. He held onto her head in attempts to be able to tilt it to make her eyes meet his. She misunderstood his intent, openly weeping before him as she waited for him to force himself into her mouth. He didn't.
"What are you waiting for?" Nikolai snapped impatiently. "Your dick will shut her up."
Elliot tried to buy time. He didn't raise his head, but lifted his eyes shooting him a wicked glance, one side of his mouth curling up into a sneer. "I want the bitch to look me in the eye."
Nikolai apparently liked this idea, his own lips twisting into a cold smile.
While Elliot had his attention, he took a chance, lightly trailing the pad of his thumb back and forth over Olivia's bruised cheekbone.
The gesture was gentle and sufficiently out of place to trigger something within her – enough that she finally opened her eyes.
Elliot dropped his gaze to Olivia again, relieved to see her looking up at him, but alarmed by the fear that pervaded her expression. He knew her enough to know that it went far beyond their role-play. She wasn't afraid of Carl, she was afraid of him. The fact that she could possibly think he would harm her made his blood run cold. He couldn't do it. He knew she had wanted to put it all on the line for the sake of the little girl, but he couldn't go on like this.
Then before he could even process what was happening, Nikolai was behind her and was pressing the barrel of his gun against the base of her skull. Nikolai cocked it with a sickening click, his finger curled menacingly against the trigger.
A fraction of an inch and she would be taken from him.
Olivia had regained enough of her awareness to understand that the situation had just taken a colossal turn for the worse.
Nikolai's left hand reached around her and squeezed her breast so painfully that she could do nothing to stifle her cry.
Elliot clenched his jaw.
"Let's try this again, shall we?" Nikolai hissed in her ear. "Blow him," he snarled, squeezing her even more tightly, enjoying her whimpers before he finally released her.
Olivia continued to look up at the towering form above her. His eyes held hers.
Blue.
Elliot.
A wave of recognition washed over her.
Nikolai jabbed the gun against her skull.
She focused on Elliot, and lifted a trembling hand, running it along his length. He inhaled sharply, his hands tightening their grip on her head. She wrapped her hand around him and leaned forward, swirling her tongue around the tip before taking him in her mouth. Elliot groaned. She started a slow rhythm, sliding her mouth along him, enveloping as much of him as possible before retreating again, her tongue massaging the sensitive skin underneath with every pass. Elliot's entire body was humming with the sensations she was creating, ripples of pleasure coursing through him. He was doing everything in his power to control himself, prevent himself from thrusting into her mouth; but then he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be in control. He set his jaw, tangling his hands in her hair as he took over the pace. He pushed and pulled her, forcing her to take him faster, deeper. She moaned in protest and he growled at the vibration, thrusting into her. She gagged, trying to pull away from him.
Nikolai laughed.
Elliot maintained his hold on her as she continued to struggle, pushing against him with her hands. She whimpered, tears streaming down her face. Elliot forced himself to ignore her cries, feeling incredibly guilty for experiencing pleasure while the only thing she was experiencing was pain. He felt the telltale tightening of his groin, grunting as he tried to prevent himself from going over the edge. Just as he began to feel the last bit of his control slipping away, Olivia was ripped away from him.
Nikolai clucked his tongue. His hand gripped the back of Olivia's neck and his gun grazed her temple. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You didn't think I'd let this little party end so soon, now did you?"
Elliot let out a growl of frustration at having been denied the release that his painfully hard body demanded. Though he was relieved that Olivia had been spared this much, he almost would have preferred for it to have ended that way as opposed to whatever the hell else he was going to have to put her through.
Olivia wiped the traces of saliva from her lips, trying to catch her breath, her entire body shaking.
"Fuck," Elliot rasped, as his power of speech returned to him.
Nikolai chuckled. "Yes, sorry about that," he said unconvincingly. "It would be a shame to allow her to get off so easily, don't you think?" he continued, feigning boredom as Olivia pointedly ignored the gun to her temple and attempted to wrench herself free from his grasp. "You know," he paused, looking down at her as if thoughtfully mulling over the situation, "I don't think she has learned her lesson." His tone remained dangerously low, leaving Olivia entirely unprepared as he swiftly raised his arm, smashing his gun down across the side of her head.
She screamed in agony, the force of the blow causing her to collapse the rest of the way to the floor. She curled into the fetal position bringing her hands up to clutch her head, unable to focus on anything other than the throbbing pain.
Elliot lost it. It was all that he could do to prevent himself from rushing to her side. "Jesus," Elliot hissed, "you trying to knock her the fuck out? I want her to fucking fight! She's no good to me if she lies there like a fucking lump!"
Nikolai paid no attention to his outburst. "This one?" he smirked at Olivia's crumpled form. "This one will fight 'til her last breath."
Elliot swallowed. That much was true.
To prove his point Nikolai used his heel to roll her over onto her back, bending over her as he tried to force her knees apart. Olivia immediately began to thrash in protest, flailing her arms and legs as she attempted to connect with whatever part of him she could. Nikolai laughed as he straightened, backing away from her but not before he kicked her sharply in her side.
Elliot winced, but fortunately this went unnoticed by Nikolai, whose eyes remained trained intently on Olivia.
She whimpered. It was not as forceful as the blow to her head, but it stung and she turned away from him in attempts to protect more sensitive areas in case he decided to continue his assault. She rolled over onto her stomach, bringing her hands up by her shoulders and attempting to push herself up off of the ground. Her arms shook and she faltered, but she gritted her teeth and made a second attempt, ignoring the shooting pain in her head as she managed to get back up on her hands and knees, crawling away from both men.
Nikolai surveyed her with amusement, allowing her to make her way toward the door, knowing full well that her efforts were futile. There was no escape. The fact that she continued to seek a way out, however pointless, only heightened his desire to break her.
Elliot watched with a mixture of pride and anguish as she used the doorknob to drag herself to her feet.
Olivia rested her forehead against the door, feeling lightheaded and willing herself to regain her bearings. God, she had never felt such hatred as she did toward Nikolai. She hated him for what he stood for, for what he was putting them through, for the power and control he had over all of his many pawns. She wanted to take the bastard down and lock him away for life. She was only minimally aware of the fact that she was crying again. She balled her hands into fists, bringing them by her head and thumping them weakly against the door.
Nikolai laughed. "There's no way out," he jeered. "Or did you forget?" He looked over at Elliot with a malevolent expression. "Perhaps you should jog her memory."
Elliot swallowed. As Nikolai turned back around to face Olivia, Elliot flashed back to his days in the Marines and imagined what it would be like to sneak up behind him and snap his neck with one swift motion – to hear the satisfying crack before his lifeless body fell to the floor. His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms standing out as he fought against the urge to strike.
As Elliot had not yet made a move, Nikolai glanced over his shoulder, grinning when he saw his hardened expression and attributing it to Elliot's desire to attack Olivia. Elliot forced himself to return the smile, and strode over to stand behind Olivia's trembling form.
She did not lift her forehead from where it rested against the door, a fresh batch of sobs escaping her as she felt him hovering behind her. "Please, no," she begged feebly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Please let me go."
Elliot moved even closer, the entire length of his body brushing against hers. He braced his arms on either side of her as he leaned forward, his face millimeters from the nape of her neck as he inhaled her scent. She shivered as his breath tickled her skin. His hands moved to cover hers where they remained balled against the door, and he slowly and deliberately rocked his lower body against hers, communicating the fact that he had absolutely no intention of letting her go.
Elliot was stalling. After everything she had been put through, he was not at all sure about Olivia's current state of mind, and was worried beyond belief about both her physical and emotional well-being. He had to know.
He moved his mouth over her ear, speaking as quietly as humanly possible. "Liv," he breathed.
She whimpered.
He gently ground his hips against her, hoping that Nikolai would enjoy the fact that he was prolonging her suffering. "Tell me to release you," he continued, afraid that she might have forgotten the words.
Olivia's shoulders shook against him as her tears continued to fall. "No! Carl, please," she cried, her voice breaking.
Elliot's heart sank. While he was glad to get some confirmation that the head trauma had not been severe enough to compromise her, he had almost been hoping that she wasn't lucid, because that would have given him an excuse to end things.
He pulled on her right wrist, spinning her around to face him. She kept her back pressed closely against the door, shrinking as far away from him as possible. Elliot leaned into her, smirking at her, his face directly in front of hers. "I'm going to make you scream," he threatened. He spoke in a hushed tone, but this time made sure he had spoken loudly enough for Nikolai to hear his words.
Olivia sniffed. Elliot was still hesitating, and she knew it. She steeled herself as she made a move that would most definitely bring about retribution. She raised her chin defiantly and spit in his face.
"Damn it, Liv!" he thought.
Elliot growled, angrily swiping the moisture from his cheek. He grabbed her by the throat, pinning her against the door as she clutched at his hand. "You're gonna fucking pay for that," he threatened. He yanked her forcefully from the door, whirling her around and releasing her so that she stumbled forward toward the bed.
Nikolai laughed.
"No!" she cried, backing up from the mattress and turning to face him.
Elliot's expression was livid as he closed the gap between them.
She shook her head, "No, please! Please don't do this!"
Olivia tried to dart around him but he caught her around the waist. She cried out in fear as he flung her down onto the mattress. She landed on her back and quickly rolled to her side, frantically trying to scramble away from him. He grabbed her by the legs, hauling her toward him and flipping her over onto her back again.
"Please no!" she begged as he climbed over her on his hands and knees. She brought her arms up, pushing against him, tears streaming down her face.
He lowered his weight so that he was straddling her hips, taking hold of her wrists and pinning them above her head.
She strained against him, her efforts doing nothing to loosen his grasp.
He leered at her, shifting to take hold of both of her wrists with his left hand while he brought his right hand down along the side of her face and neck, lingering along the neckline of her dress. His eyes narrowed dangerously as he snaked his fingers underneath the thin spaghetti strap along her left shoulder and tugged sharply upward, the material immediately giving way.
Olivia whimpered.
Elliot ignored her protests and repeated the action on the other side.
Olivia arched against him, trying desperately to wriggle out of his grasp as he took hold of the front of her dress and yanked it down over her breasts.
He groaned as they came into view, not having taken the time to consider the possibility that she might not have been wearing a bra.
She bit her lip under his silent appraisal, feeling incredibly exposed. She was breathing heavily and her nipples hardened in anticipation.
He swallowed, lifting his eyes to meet hers. She was regarding him with a mixture of fear, anxiety and desire. His eyes darkened and he moved his hand to roughly massage her left breast as his mouth descended onto her right one.
She gasped, her left breast still sore from Nikolai's unforgiving assault, the pain mixing with the pleasure Elliot was causing by his ministrations. His fingers pinched her nipple as his teeth mimicked his actions on the other side. Olivia cried out, writhing beneath him as he relentlessly alternated between tugging and twisting and licking and soothing the tender flesh. "No, stop!" she begged, half crying, half moaning at his touch.
Eventually he did, removing his mouth and hand, gripping her jaw as he hissed, "You're a fucking whore. You know you like it."
Olivia sobbed.
"Tell me you want it," he snarled.
"No," she cried struggling against him. "Let me go!"
He hated himself, but he released his hold on her jaw and slapped her across the face. "Say it!"
She only cried harder.
"No? Fine," he spat. "You're about to tell me everything I already know." He wrenched his thigh between hers, forcing her legs apart as he dragged his hand down her body.
"No, no, no," she whimpered repeatedly as his hand pushed between her legs, his fingers dragging along her center as he grabbed the crotch of her panties, ripping them in half.
He looked down at her smugly. "You're dripping wet," he ridiculed, roughly dragging his fingers along her clit.
She let out a strangled moan, unable to suppress her reaction to his touch.
"I knew you fucking wanted it," he hissed, pulling his hand away.
Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, her chest heaving violently as she sobbed uncontrollably beneath him. She knew that Elliot had to say these things, but it did little to cushion the emotional blow. She did want it - not like this - but she did want him and the fact that the extent of her desire was blatantly apparent to both Elliot and Nikolai left her feeling incredibly ashamed.
Elliot's heart broke. He wanted to pull her into his arms and apologize, to tell her how beautiful she was – that he would give anything to be able to make love to her, treat her the way she deserved to be treated.
"Fuck her," Nikolai barked over his shoulder, his voice filled with anticipation.
As painful as it was, Olivia fought against every instinct she had to hide from him, and forced herself to open her eyes. She knew that Elliot would never be able to bring himself to do this unless she could communicate that she was okay. She met his gaze, her breath hitching as she saw the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "P-please, Carl," she hiccupped. "Please don't do this."
"Shut up," he gritted.
She struggled against him, managing to yank her left wrist from his grasp, pushing against his shoulder to try to shove him off balance. "No, please!"
He captured her wrist again with his free hand, pinning it back above her head, balancing his weight on his forearms as he moved his other leg between hers, forcing them further apart. "Shut the fuck up!" he yelled.
"No, stop!" she begged, becoming more hysterical, thrashing beneath him. "Carl, no!"
He knew what she was doing – repeating Carl's name to try to remind him that she wasn't begging him to stop, but it wasn't helping. Christ, it wasn't helping. He looked down at her tear-streaked face and was overwhelmed by guilt. No matter how much she offered her indirect consent, in his mind, in his heart, he felt like he was raping Olivia Benson.
Nikolai's laughter filled the room.
Elliot clenched his jaw.
He positioned himself at her entrance, looking into her wide brown eyes. He tightened his grip on her wrists.
She swallowed.
Elliot pushed his hips forward, burying himself inside of her with one deep thrust.
They both cried out from the sensation.
Olivia gasped, caught somewhere between pleasure and pain as her body struggled to accommodate him. Elliot held her gaze. His jaw clenched, overcome by the myriad feelings that overwhelmed him as he tried to reconcile the fact that he was simultaneously experiencing such physical ecstasy and such psychic pain. He held still for as long as possible, wishing that he could go slowly; give Olivia time to adjust, but he felt Nikolai's eyes upon him. He pulled back and thrust himself into her again.
Olivia inhaled sharply, unable to make a sound. Elliot took in her expression, mouth open, eyebrows slightly knit, and he knew that he was hurting her.
"Harder," Nikolai commanded.
Elliot squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the sight of her tears, but her face was etched in his mind, the fear and pain in her eyes as vivid behind his eyelids as it was in front of them. He thrust into her again and she whimpered, the sound shattering the last fragment of willpower he had left. His throat tightened and his eyes burned. God, he couldn't do this. He couldn't do this to her. His eyes flew open to meet hers, and he did nothing to mask his inner turmoil. He hated himself. He hated his body for betraying him – for betraying Olivia.
Olivia looked into his grief-stricken eyes, and knew that she had to take over. She hurriedly stole a glance over his shoulder. Nikolai was standing closely behind him, but from her current position she could only see one of his arms. Elliot's body was shielding her – at least for the moment. She looked back up at Elliot, her eyes softening as she tried to communicate as much trust and compassion as possible. She did not have the mobility of her wrists, but she curled the fingers of her left hand and gently brushed his index finger. She could barely reach him – the touch hardly more than a whisper across his skin, but he noticed immediately. He flitted his gaze to their hands and back with a questioning look in his eyes.
Olivia summoned up her courage, somehow feeling as though despite everything they had already been through, she was about to cross another line. She bit her lip and clenched her inner muscles around him. She watched as his eyes closed, the tendons in his jaw standing out as he fought to remain still. Once he regained his control he looked back down at her. Olivia's eyes had darkened, her breathing shallow. Unable to resist, he dropped his eyes to her breasts, his face flushing as he met her gaze again. She licked her lips and repeated her earlier actions, squeezing him as she gently rolled her hips, trying to make the movement as subtle as possible.
Her motions had their intended effect, and he hardened even more inside of her.
"What the hell are you waiting for?" Nikolai hollered.
Olivia's eyes widened as she looked at Elliot in panic.
"Give me a fucking second," Elliot gritted, "or this will be over before it's started."
His chest was rising and falling rapidly, his expression once again becoming one of determination.
Olivia looked up at him, nodding almost imperceptibly. She drew her knees up, digging her heels against the mattress one after the other, trying to slide herself up and away from him as she whimpered for Nikolai's benefit.
Elliot growled and thrust into her again.
Olivia cried out, increasing her efforts to fight him off as Nikolai made his way around the side of the bed. Her heart pounded in her chest as she knew that they would no longer be able to continue their nonverbal communication.
Elliot's lips twisted into a cruel smile, his hands tightening around her wrists as he drove into her again and again, each thrust harder and deeper than the one before it. Olivia arched against him, crying and screaming and begging him to stop.
Nikolai walked around the side until he was standing above Olivia's head. "Allow me," he said, gesturing to her wrists. Elliot stilled as Nikolai leaned over her, trailing the gun up the side of her neck and cocking it when it reached the top of her skull.
Elliot's heart was in his throat but he looked at Nikolai with a smile. "Thanks," he said, releasing his grasp on her wrists.
Elliot pulled out of her, but Olivia remained frozen beneath him, sobbing as he sat up and began to undo the buttons of his shirt. She was terrified of moving for fear of being on the receiving end of another of Nikolai's blows to the head, but felt sick to her stomach lying half naked in front of him. Eventually her desire to shield herself from his view overrode her fear of the potential repercussions of her actions and she brought her arms down protectively across her chest.
Elliot shrugged out of his shirt and tossed it on the floor, beating Nikolai to the punch as he smacked her across the jaw. It was not intended to cause pain, only to intimidate her as he leaned over her and snapped, "Who the fuck told you to cover up?"
"No, please!" she wailed as he pried open her arms, slamming them down on the bed.
Nikolai lowered his weapon once Elliot had her secured, this time pinning her wrists out to her sides so that they were level with her shoulders. He leaned forward, his weight forcing her arms to sink further into the mattress.
She winced. She considered herself a strong person, having been able to take down many perps who outweighed her in the past, but she was no match for Elliot. The lines of his muscles stood out all along his arms, chest, and neck, and she now understood why every attempt she had made to escape him had been so easily countered. She looked up into his angry eyes, her entire body trembling.
"You don't fucking move unless I tell you to," he seethed, thrusting back inside of her and rolling his hips to emphasize the fact that he maintained complete control.
She choked back some sobs, her breasts brushing against his chest with every jerky breath she took.
Elliot released her arms, testing her compliance as he raised himself higher on his knees, grasping her firmly by the waist and hauling her toward him so that her hips rose off of the bed.
She whimpered, the position causing him to penetrate her more deeply. She tried to take hold of the mattress, steeling herself for the twinge of pain and crying out as he began to thrust into her. With every forward motion, Elliot pulled her toward him, their hips colliding as he buried himself to the hilt. Olivia was overwhelmed by the sensations he was causing, a tingling warmth spreading throughout her body as he repeatedly stretched her to a point of discomfort that immediately transformed into bliss. She wasn't sure if she was moaning or sobbing, only that Elliot's body was ripping sounds from her throat that she had no ability to suppress.
Elliot moved his hands so that his left was supporting the small of her back as his right palm splayed across her taut stomach. Her body was incredible, the sway of her breasts hypnotizing him as she bounced against him. Her inner muscles were squeezing him like a vise, seeming to tighten around him more and more with every thrust.
"Flip her over," Nikolai commanded, his voice barely registering in Elliot's rapture-induced haze.
Olivia looked up at Elliot, her eyes laden with desire. She was trying to remember to fight – trying to find the strength to put up the struggle that Nikolai wanted. She felt Elliot slip out of her as he took hold of her left leg, lifting it across his torso as he worked to change their positions. Once her legs were together she took the window of opportunity it created to roll away from him, attempting to launch herself to the right and toward the edge of the mattress. Her movements were poorly coordinated, her limbs shaky. Elliot snaked his arms around her middle yanking her back toward the center of the bed. Incapable of speech, she merely cried, knowing that Nikolai would get off as long as he thought she was miserable.
Elliot released his hold on her and she tried to crawl away from him, but he grabbed onto her legs, preventing her efforts. She flattened herself on the mattress, reaching with her arms, doing anything possible to drag herself forward. She wept as Elliot lay on top of her, the entire length of his body covering hers, weighing her down. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. "Shut up," he hissed, tugging her backward so that she was on all fours. He took hold of the remaining scraps of lace that used to comprise her panties and ripped them the rest of the way off.
"Fuck her in the ass," Nikolai demanded.
Olivia found her voice in a panic. "No, no, no!" she shook her head, sobs wracking her body. She struggled against Elliot's hold. God, she couldn't take that. No. "R-, re-," she tried, her chest heaving so much that she couldn't utter the words.
"Release me!" her mind screamed.
God, why couldn't she speak? She became increasingly hysterical as she realized that she was completely unable to communicate with Elliot, the extent of her powerlessness terrifying her.
"Shh, Liv," Elliot thought, longing to be able to comfort her. She was trembling violently in his arms, completely panic-stricken. There was no way in hell he was going to do that to her.
Elliot's eyes narrowed. "If you want to see someone fucked in the ass, you can go find yourself a couple of fags." His tone was low, dangerous, and left no room for discussion. He glowered at Nikolai, daring him to challenge him. Inwardly, Elliot was petrified, unsure as to whether this would be the moment that Nikolai would snap and hold both of them at gunpoint, forcing them to do his bidding.
Nikolai was silent, as if he were trying to decide how to respond.
Elliot knew how much Nikolai wanted to break Olivia, torture her. Nikolai's demand was designed with the knowledge that it would cause her as much pain as possible as he mercilessly ripped her to shreds. Elliot was well aware of the fact that Nikolai did not react well to ultimatums, and attempted to salvage the situation by appealing to their prior complicity. He cocked an eyebrow at Nikolai, dropping his gaze to Olivia and wrenching her head back even farther as she cried out in pain. "I have other ways to make her scream," he growled, propelling her head forward as he roughly released his hold on her hair, the motion causing her arms to collapse as her head struck the bed.
Nikolai chuckled, backing down. "Have it your way," he replied.
Elliot reached between them and positioned himself at her entrance, the only brief warning he gave her before he took hold of Olivia's hips and plunged inside of her. Olivia screamed, the sound partially muffled by the mattress. They both knew that they had just narrowly escaped a far worse fate and would have to make sure that Nikolai was satisfied with the alternative. Olivia continued to scream as Elliot slammed into her again and again, his pace hard, deep and unforgiving. Her fists were balled by her head, her chest rubbing harshly against the mattress as he pushed and pulled within her. While he knew that he was causing her discomfort, Elliot prayed that he was not hurting her to the extent that she was projecting.
Nikolai's laughter filled the room, the vile sound mixing with Olivia's heart-wrenching cries.
Elliot knew that this was exactly what the sick bastard wanted.
He wrapped one arm around her waist, continuing to thrust into her as he leaned forward and shoved the other between her neck and the mattress. He curled it sharply around her throat, yanking her up so that her torso hovered above the bed as she gasped for air. Her hands shot out to support her weight, desperately trying to alleviate the pressure around her neck.
"Hold yourself the fuck up," he snarled.
She locked her arms, bracing herself as he released her, coughing and choking as she struggled to breathe through her sobs. He gave her no time to recover, continuing to pound into her as she whimpered, the pain becoming more and more pleasurable. Every thrust seemed to penetrate her more deeply, her back arching as her walls tightened around him, heightening the sensations as he moved within her.
Elliot groaned. She felt incredible. He watched himself disappear inside of her over and over again, overcome by the fact that it was Olivia beneath him, her body, her warmth that enveloped him.
Her cries were transforming into moans. She was powerless to stave off the tension building in her core as Elliot controlled her every move. His hands were tightly gripping her hips, pulling her toward him to match his every thrust. Her arms were shaking from the strain of trying to hold herself up, and she was breathing so quickly that she felt lightheaded.
Elliot knew that he could quickly push her over the edge if he moved his hand to her clit, but Carl and Nikolai's game had nothing to do with her pleasure, only her domination. One of Elliot's arms snaked around to fondle her breasts, roughly massaging them as he pinched and tugged on her nipples. Her elbows buckled but he caught her, watching as she tried to comply with his earlier command by attempting to push herself back up, but she didn't have the strength.
He took the opportunity to flip her back over onto her back, hooking her right leg over his shoulder as he resumed his rhythm, balancing his weight on his forearms, covering her hands with his own. The new position caused him to brush against her clit with every thrust, and Olivia was bucking and arching and moaning uncontrollably beneath him. He felt her tighten even more around him and he felt himself losing his own control, groaning as her body seemed to pull him even further inside of her. He quickened the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent as his body demanded the release that only she could give him. Olivia's eyes were closed and her face was flushed and her moans were transforming into high-pitched gasps. Ripples of pleasure started rolling through her and she needed to see him, to connect with him before she lost herself completely.
She opened her eyes, finding him staring back at her. The intensity of his gaze transfixed her, his eyes revealing depths of emotion that she was unprepared to absorb. He was baring his soul to her and trusting her with the truths it contained. A tear ran down her cheek, not from pain but from hope. His hands shifted, their fingers interlocking as she felt the waves of pleasure flooding over her. His mouth crashed over hers, swallowing the beginnings of his name on her lips as he came within her, the room dissolving from their awareness.