A/N: As per the requests, I've been making the chapters longer. If y'all could return the favor by letting me know what you think so far, it'd be much appreciated! When I don't hear from you guys, it makes me think you're not interested.
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She drops the sheet, and steps over it, making her way to the medicine cabinet as the warmth envelopes her body. She opens the medicine cabinet, and reaches for the oversized bottle of ibuprofen, popping it open, and shaking two pills out into her hand. She caps the bottle, placing it back on its shelf, and shutting the cabinet door. With her forearm, she clears the mirror of some of its haze, and catches a glimpse of her reflection. Her eyes are puffy, but clear.
There's a wrenching pain in her stomach as she tosses back the pills, and she closes her eyes and grips the counter to steel herself against the discomfort. Wine-drunk on an empty stomach always sounded so much better in theory. She should know this by now.
After a few long moments, she reclaims some semblance of equilibrium, and recalls her earlier intentions.
She heads towards the shower, and wraps her hand around the bar on the glass door, sliding it open, and stepping inside.
He hadn't seen her come in, and he's caught off-guard by her sudden presence, next to him in the shower.
They'd left things on a tentative note. Or, rather—he had. She hadn't said much of anything, other than a defeated concession that she was, in fact, "too damn exhausted" to be navigating such a crossroads.
He simply promised to be there, and to listen when she felt ready.
She looks down at her hands as he steps forward so the water ricochets off his body, and creates a fine mist that surrounds her. It's a protection of sorts. A gesture. It's entirely unnecessary, though not unwelcome. He is, and always has been the only person to ever make her feel safe.
"I feel like I'm supposed to make the first move, here." She says honestly. "But I'm not really sure what it should look like." She looks up at his eyes now, and it gives her the strength to finally let her guard down.
It's a vulnerable concession, and it's not something she's familiar with, but the transparency is what he needs—what they both need.
She breaks eye contact for a moment, looking down at her hands again, and she chuckles softly to herself.
She raises her left middle finger, and brings it into his peripheral, scrunching her nose in an attempt to conceal the laughter that threatens to break her composure.
His brow arches in response.
"I can't get it off," she giggles.
He closes his eyes and sighs through a smile, taking his hand in hers, and lacing her fingers between his, and sliding her finger into his mouth without ever letting go.
She revels in the sensual softness of his tongue against her skin, as she watches him work his magic.
A few moments later, he spits the ring into her hand, and closes her fingers around it. Without hesitation, she slides it onto her left ring finger, where it fits perfectly.
His eyes are open, now, and he smiles at her.
"What?" She says coyly, as though the exchange was perfectly natural.
"First move," he announces. And his smirk… That damned smirk, she thinks.
Game over.
Her lips crash into his as she pushes him back into the stream of water, so it hits her face. She doesn't need his protection.
It's hot, and hard, and breathless. She comes up for air, and his lips slide down to her throat where he sucks and kisses her.
She places a hand on either side of his face, and brings him back up to her, where she claims his mouth again.
He drags her lower lip between his teeth, and releases it, soothing it with his tongue. Her skin is on fire. Every nerve ending sensitized. Pleasure and pain intensify tenfold, and it's exquisite. She's wet and it's got nothing to do with the water that beats relentlessly against her body.
His lips head south again, a little lower this time, and he sucks one of her nipples into his mouth, nips at it, and slides his tongue over it slowly, as he stares up at her. He moves right, and repeats the process, and it's so damn erotic to watch her bite her lip, and try to stifle a moan. He'll get it out of her, he thinks, and reaches behind her for a bar of soap.
He's kissing her again, and it distracts from the fact that he's been sliding the soap down her abdomen.
His lips move to her neck again, and his hand is between her thighs. He drops the soap, and slides his hand down, stroking up and down, just grazing the surface of her skin.
"F-ahhh…" she moans, and he takes the opportunity to slide his free hand up to her lips, and slip two fingers into her mouth, where she laps hungrily at them as he strokes her.
He pulls his fingers from her mouth, and reaches behind her again, this time to unhook the showerhead.
He presses his lips below her ear, "I'm gonna make you come so hard," he whispers, hooking two fingers inside her as she collapses against his body. "You're gonna feel me inside you for days."
Her head rests against his shoulder, and every time he pushes his fingers up into her, she drags her teeth across the damp flesh of it. His thumb brushes gently against her, and the sound of her pleading moan makes it almost impossible for him to do anything but pin her to the wall and fuck her until neither of them can stand up. But he doesn't.
"Harder," she spits. It's the only coherent thing she can make out, and it's a harsh, but breathless whisper.
His lips press a kiss just above her collarbone, and she's so close, he can feel it in his bones. "Not yet, baby. Not yet."
Her knees buckle, and she's immensely thankful for the wall behind her, and his thick fingers that somehow serve the dual purpose of getting her off, and keeping her standing.
"Fuck… harder," she pants, closing her eyes, and honing in on the sensation of his thick fingers stretching and filling her, as the pad of his thumb brushes gently against her clit.
"Did the lady say…" he whispers into her ear, but she's been teetering on the edge of an earth-shattering orgasm for what feels like an eternity, and all other senses seem to dull in comparison to the feeling of his skin against her. She could have sworn she misheard him.
"What?" she asks breathlessly. Confusion and arousal fit effortlessly across her face as he repeats himself.
"Water below deck!" He bellows.
Instantly, his thumb pushes the knob on the showerhead until it clicks into place, and a steady stream of water shoots out. He slides it between her legs, removing his fingers from inside of her just in time to catch her as she comes undone against the pulsating stream.
"Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuuuuhhhh, Elliot!" She could have sworn she was screaming his name, but it's a breathless, soundless break from reality that rocks her.
When she comes to, she's swatting his hand away from her most intimate parts. Her body is still shaking as she struggles to catch her breath.
He kisses her sweetly, and her toes uncurl.
She smiles against his lips. "That was a dirty trick, Stabler."
"Yeah, but I like dirty. It suits me."
"Suits me too." She quips, pushing back against him, and an interlocking their fingers.
She brings their joined hands down to his stiff shaft, and he lets go as she wraps her palm around him and begins to stroke him softly.
"Makes me so…" her voice lowers to an almost imperceptible decibel. "Wet."
Her fingers are warm and soft, as she works her hand around him in a circular motion, sliding up and down.
"You like that?" She's almost moaning, and god, he loves it when she talks like this.
"Yes," he breathes. He doesn't bother to open his eyes, and she never misses a beat, so it catches him off-guard when she's on her knees for him, her lips wrapped around him like a vise, as she strokes him with her tongue.
"Fuck."
He slides his fingers through her wet hair, as she swirls her tongue around his thick cock, sucking with appreciative moans, as she gazes up at him. The long, generous humming sounds send vibrations down to his balls, and she steadies herself with one hand against the wall, as she reaches underneath to massage him.
She releases him from her mouth with a wet pop, and a thin line of spittle follows her, as she grabs hold of his dick, and gently pushes it upward so she can get her mouth around his balls.
The forgotten showerhead bobs in the background as she laps hungrily at him, and he's suddenly overcome with the insatiable urge to taste her.
Almost as if on cue, she climbs to her feet, and her knees are instantly grateful for the reprieve.
She turns and reaches down to grab the shower hose, and he licks his lips at the sight of her bent over, on display like this. Without thinking, he brings his palm down swiftly over her ass, and it hits her squarely between the legs.
She jumps at the shock of it, but it's not at all unpleasant. She's never really mentioned it, but he knows she secretly likes it when he gets a little rough with her.
He doesn't love the idea of hurting her; even if it is in good fun. Still, she always finds a way of reassuring him if ever he's been afraid of taking it too far.
She places the showerhead back in its holster and turns around, flashing him a wicked smile, as she motions for him to come closer. "You wanna get me off, Stabler, or you just can't help yourself?"
There's something different about their dynamic this time around. It's as if their desire to finally be completely honest with each other served to break down not only the communication barriers between them, but the intimate ones as well. Finally able to shed their respective insecurities with their clothes, sex was starting to become a more of a psychic reconnection instead of just an itch that needed scratching. The sensual push-pull between them lends itself to a clairvoyance of sorts, each of them knowing exactly what the other needs, but keeping just enough distance between each sated caress to maintain a modicum of erotic mystery.
"Maybe both?" He smirks, moving closer to her, and kissing her hotly as he slides a hand between her legs, seeking the moisture he wants on his lips. He breaks the kiss as he brings his hand up to his mouth, but in an attempt to make a show of the gesture, he hesitates just a little too long, and her mouth is sucking on his fingers, slowly savoring her innermost flavors. She closes her eyes and moans softly.
It's damn near the hottest thing she could have done in that moment, but still, he wishes he'd gotten there first.
She smiles innocently, leaning in to kiss him.
He nips playfully at her lower lip, and she giggles—decidedly not an Olivia Benson move, but she's enjoying their dance.
"You want to taste, you'll have to take a more direct route," she whispers between kisses.
He's on his knees before her in an instant, and she leans back against the wall again. If his last maneuver is any indication, she's going to need it shortly.
He hoists one of her legs up over his shoulder, and leans in to pepper a few soft kisses on her abdomen before moving lower—his trademark move. He slides one hand up, just above her navel. It's an intimate reminder that he won't let her fall, as he continues to descend her smooth skin with gentle kisses until he reaches the juncture of her thighs.
He pauses for a moment and looks up at her.
Her eyes are hooded with desire. One hand is in her wet, tangled hair and the other is holding his. Her full breasts are prickled by the constant spray of water. She's got one foot on the floor, and the other dangles carelessly over his shoulder, and her generous hips and strong thighs surround him.
He is so in love with this woman—this gorgeous, ethereally sexy creature splayed out before him, and her can't believe he almost lost her.
It's an intimate moment in which he notices the sway of her hips and the heave of her breasts in such a state of want—she's too rapt with anticipation to feel anything but confident as he drinks in the luxurious glow of her body—a body starved for the gentle, grounding touch of the man who loves her.
He wants to end her anticipation; to satisfy the hunger in her. He wants to work his way inside her and just stay there until he can't breathe anymore. But he doesn't want to lose sight of this moment.