Author's Comments: I'm in the mood to turn the heat up. It's been long enough. Dang.
Rebel in the Dark
Chapter Twenty-One
"I don't like it," said Elliot on their walk home, holding her hand to shield it from the cold wind. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago, she had almost succumbed to this same frigid weather. Her hands and feet still stung as reminders whenever the crispy wind touched them. "What do you have to do for him?"
"Just one assignment." She sped up her pace, not wanting to be out here any longer than she had to.
"What is it?"
"Elliot, you know I can't tell you that." He got quiet, his hand tightening around hers. "Look," she said, "would you rather I be sitting in jail?"
That shut him up for a while, and she used the opportunity to bask in the fact that she was no longer in handcuffs, and no longer hiding from the police.
Olivia stopped just over the threshold of the apartment she shared with Elliot, closing her eyes to savor the taste of freedom. She stood listening to the whir of the aquarium filter and the soft vibrating hum of the furnace, and then to the sound of Elliot's footsteps halting only inches behind her. Breathing in the familiar scent of him embedded in this place, she absorbed his arms around her waist, allowing his fingers to press against her belly.
Right now there needed to be no problems, no worries, no other thoughts than the realization that his hot breath on her neck could send pleasant chills up and down the length of her body, tickling the downy fine hairs at the base of her scalp. "Elliot," she said, and he answered her with a nibble to those very same hairs.
"Mmmm . . ." she said, lowering her head so he could reach the delicate spot easier. She squeezed his hand, which travelled to her chest and dug in with tender but firm strokes. He pressed into her from behind while the door clicked shut behind them. But she had to tell him face to face what was on her mind, so she turned out of his embrace, flicking her hair against his cheek as she rolled her head toward him. His heat closed the distance between them.
"Elliot . . . I—" Unable to meet his eyes, and feeling tiny an vulnerable in a way that scared her, she carefully plotted out her words, and then said in a shaky voice, "Elliot, I'm so glad I have you right now. You've been like a rock—"
He took advantage of the pause between her words to fasten his lips to hers, sweeping them against hers, pausing only to say, "I would do anything for you—anything to have this closeness, even if for only a few minutes."
His fingers tangled themselves into her hair, pulling with enough tension to create a satisfying pressure on her scalp. "Liv," he exhaled into her ear. "You are my world—I don't know how I existed without you. I love you . . ."
The words trailed out of his throat and into her chest, creating knots there that spread in jazzy waves to the tips of her fingers and her toes. Her mouth pressed hard into his now, determined to absorb all of him into her—his fragrance, his taste, his hushed and hurried breathing. Her hands kept time to the rhythm of their shared heartbeat by grasping and releasing first the tightened muscles on his back, and moving downward until they clasped his waist. He groaned. "Olivia, I want you—"
She needed no more prompting to fill his desire, his implied demand. She moved sideways, his legs flanking hers as she did, and they sidled as one unit toward the bedroom. A flurry of movement began as fingers greedily pried at buttons and latches and clothes flew off, scattering around like chaos on the floor. Arms and legs followed suit, reaching and brushing past one another in intensifying rounds.
And the entire time, her lips barely left his, as if the special moments they shared right now might end if their mouths parted. If this world was a cesspool of putrid sleazebags who dredged up new ways to take out their hellish existence on innocent targets, Elliot was an oasis, an island of paradise in the sea of sub-human leeches.
He picked up her now-naked body and set her gently on the bed that they shared, and she willingly fell backward on it and sprawled out, opening herself up to him in a way that she couldn't with anyone else. She trusted him, needed him, wanted him, and her eyes beamed up at him to tell him this. Past ready, he put one knee on the bed, setting it perfectly between her legs, and leaned into her with muscles flexed.
He stroked her hair one last time, and then her breast, sending shivers through her body. And then he mounted her, decisively entering her in one slow, strong thrust. She gasped and closed her eyes, accepting him into her swollen, waiting folds.
He brought his chest down to hers, their sweat and skin streaking together as he pumped deeper within her. She opened her eyes to catch him gazing down on her in admiration, one corner of his lip curled up in a smile. "Elliot," she said, unsure she could form words in her ecstatic trance. "So good."
Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him into her as tight as two people could get. His thrusts went from soft and smooth to shorter and more desperate, hammering in a way that caused nerve ends to light up that she never knew she had. "Liv, I love you," he whispered, and she knew he wouldn't be much longer. Sure enough, he began to deepen his lunges, his face scrunching up until his mouth fell open and she could feel throbbing inside of her at the same time that he let out a final massive groan like a sigh.
It was too much for her, and her own body fell over a threshold and began to quiver at the thought of his seed spilling into and out of her, evidenced by the new slickness of his intensified drives within her. She let go, let everything go and just let her spine explode and her legs quiver, floating on a high of sex and liberty and his love.
And when she opened her eyes, he was watching her again, tracing her hairline with his finger. He kissed her, and she received his mouth with waiting lips. After they reluctantly pulled their interlocked faces apart, she said softly, "Elliot Stabler, I love you too."