After downing his coffee and the little blue pill—and praying the combination didn't send him into cardiac arrest—Rafael ventured down the hallway to join Olivia. She hadn't turned on any lights, but the blinds were open and provided more than enough to see by. She was sitting uneasily on the edge of his bed, her hands linked together and her eyes roving everywhere except in his direction.

He didn't say anything, simply carried his discarded clothing over to the hamper and dumped it in. He proceeded to remove his socks, and then he reached for his belt buckle.

Behind him, Olivia made a strangled sound.

He made quick work of his belt and then, shoring up all his courage, he undid his trousers and stepped out of them. He elected to keep his boxer briefs on for the moment. Assessing his erection situation, he decided it wasn't rampant enough at present that it would startle her, so he turned to face her.

Seeing her on his bed, however, in nothing more than her panties and an expression of need had him hardening right back up again. And he couldn't even blame the Viagra.

"How much time?" he asked, inwardly cursing the raw need in his own voice.

She shook her head, and his cock twitched in happiness. Olivia scooted back ever so slightly, and then she laid down. "I think...you were supposed to make me beg?" Her voice was throaty and similarly raw.

Rafael actually swayed where he stood. He had to steady himself with a hand on his dresser. He never wanted to forget this moment for the rest of his life—even if Olivia never spoke to him again after this.

"Has everything been...to your liking?" he managed, drawing closer to her after the room stopped swirling.

She looked up at him with an expression of disbelief. "I may not be completely mentally acute right now, but even I heard myself moaning your name back there." She jutted her chin towards his living room.

"If you're using phrases like 'mentally acute', I'd say you're not actually in bad shape," he pointed out. Then some kind of inner devil took over and he decided to tease her. "In fact, I don't even know if you need me," he said, backing up and leaning against his dresser. He made a show of glancing down at his fingernails and appearing bored. "You can probably do whatever you need to do yourself."

Olivia propped herself up on her elbows and glared at him. "You just want a reason to watch me touch myself," she accused.

Rafael shrugged one shoulder. "Your words, not mine."

"Argh!" She grabbed one of his pillows and flung it at him. Laughing, he caught it and flung it right back, then advanced on her while she was trying to shove her hair out of her face.

Leaning over her, he braced himself with his hands on either side of her hips. "You sure you won't touch yourself for me?" he cajoled softly. "I can't imagine ever witnessing anything sexier."

She stilled. "That's not fair," she practically whimpered. "You're just supposed to—to get me off. You aren't supposed to, to—seduce me!"

"Says who?" he countered, and then he was on top of her, bearing her down into his mattress. He wedged one of his knees between her legs and shifted his balance so he had a hand free to trace circles around her nipple. He made sure to carefully enunciate each word so she could not mistake his intent. "I'm going to lick your breasts, Olivia, until you want to explode. Then I'm going to run my tongue all the way down your body to your clit, and I'm going to devour your pussy until you've come so many times that you can't remember your own name."

"Oh, my god," she panted, and banded her arms around his waist with an iron grip. "Yes, please, Rafael," she added.

Rafael had never been happier to keep his word.


Nearly forty minutes later, Rafael climbed up onto the bed and collapsed next to Olivia. He didn't think it was possible, but he had actually lost count of how many orgasms she'd had at this point. It was nearing ten, he thought. All with just his hands and mouth. And he had yet to lose his own control once. He wanted to pat himself on the back, although his sixteen-year-old self was wondering what the HELL he was waiting for.

Beside him, Olivia was panting, her eyes closed and her beautiful body gilded by the late evening light. He wished he could know what was going on inside her head—not what the drugs were telling her, he had a pretty good idea what that would sound like—but what she, Olivia Benson, was thinking right at this moment.

Then her eyes opened and met his, and he revised his opinion. He was afraid to know.

"As wonderful as that was...I don't think it's enough anymore..." He saw her swallow and she looked embarrassed, but she forged ahead anyway. "I think maybe it's time...if you're okay with it...to move on to sex."

"I'm okay with it," he tried to reassure her, but even to his own ears it sounded extremely self-serving. Sure, hot chick, I'll have sex with you for your own good!

His hand flexed into a fist when he thought of all the havoc that some punk named Mel was wreaking in his life.

He sat up and moved off the bed. Rummaging in his dresser drawer, he pulled out a mostly-full box of condoms. He supposed he could thank Olivia herself for destroying his interest in any other women lately, but then again, he wasn't sure it would do either of them any good to tell her just now.

He took out two condoms and returned to the bed. He gestured to her panties. "Can I...?"

In answer she simply lifted her hips, so he grasped the sides and dragged them slowly over her legs. It was hands-down the most erotically and emotionally intimate moment of his life, as well as one of the most terrifyingly momentous. He was removing Olivia Benson's panties and this was real life. He shook his head, the idea too big to wrap his brain around fully.

He made quick work of his briefs and chanced a glance at her face. She was staring intently at his cock, one hand idly inching towards her clit. He wondered if she even realized she was doing it. He doubted it.

Reaching for her before she could reach her clit herself, he stroked her enough to know that she was wet and ready for him. That knowledge nearly brought him to his knees, but he firmly reminded himself that this was out of her control and it had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with her true feelings for him.

Even that bitter reminder wasn't quite enough to completely cool his ardor. She was magnificent, sprawled on his bed, her hair splayed out behind her. He rolled on the first condom, then the second. He needed to dull the sensations as much as possible if he hoped to last long enough to give Olivia some relief from her symptoms. She watched his movements with her lower lip caught between her teeth, and Rafael had the insane urge to bite her, everywhere. But he wasn't sure what her comfort level might be with that, so he shoved the urges to the dark recesses of his brain.

He rejoined her on the bed. "How do you want this to go?" he murmured, reverently shaping her breasts with his hands.

She shifted on the bed, making room for him. "I don't care as long as it goes," she pleaded, eyeing his cock again. He could practically see the wheels turning—knew she was putting together the reasons for his doubling of protection—but then he could see the moment when the PT-141 decided things had been delayed long enough.

She reached for his shoulders and pulled him over top of her. She raked her nails down his back—the first time she'd really touched him other than to hold him to her—and he was lost. He swooped down to tongue one nipple, then the other. He let his fingers play at the entrance to her vagina for just a moment and then he settled himself between her legs. He took a deep breath—and then paused.

"Olivia." He waited until her eyes focused on his face. "I just want you to know that I've—I've wanted to do this with you before today." It was as close as he could come to an admission of his desire for her, but he felt it was important that he say it now. Before they leapt into the abyss.

"Me too," she moaned, sliding her hands to his ass and lifting her hips up towards his. He struggled to hide his disappointment—he was certain she was only saying it in the moment. Or that she wasn't even really aware of what she was saying. Or, worst of all, that she hadn't understood what he was trying to say. I love you! his brain shouted, but he kept his lips clamped firmly shut.

He dropped his head briefly. He had to remember that this was one thousand times worse for her than for him...that it wasn't her fault that he hadn't told her before now...that he couldn't place these expectations on her when she was not fully herself. Get a grip, his rational mind told him. Give her as many orgasms as you can, the Dodds in his head countered.

At least the intrusion of Chief Dodds brought Rafael back to the present and stopped his wallowing.

"Get ready," he warned her—or perhaps himself—and then he slid inside her.


A/N: Hello lovely readers! Thanks for your reviews. I hope you are still enjoying this fic.