It's been nine minutes since Charlie left the room.
Nine minutes Olivia has had to lie there, her mind calculating all the potential scenarios that's currently taking place.
Charlie kissing Elliot.
Elliot kissing Charlie.
Elliot tasting Olivia.
Elliot furious.
Elliot turned on.
Elliot fucking Charlie.
That last one is sticking with her. Driving her into all kinds of emotional turmoil.
No, she thinks, he wouldn't. But she did. Didn't she? To some extent.. she doesn't even know. Does just lying there and taking it count? Fuck, what is she saying? She encouraged it and for that she's going to a special place in hell that Elliot will personally deliver her.
She hears footsteps outside the door, some brief shuffling before simply stillness.
She swallows.
Dear God in heaven let it be Charlie. She can't face Elliot right now. Not yet. She isn't ready.
The door opens, breaking her thoughts and she holds her breath. A slither of light spills into the darkened room and she sees a silhouette move through the doorway before the door clicks firmly closed.
She knows it's Elliot.
That man's presence is a tangible mass and even without seeing him clearly she can tell it's him.
He hasn't turned a light on, nor has he said a word. She simply hears movement, leather against carpet as he makes his way closer to her.
She doesn't say anything. There are no words for what just took place. So she just concentrates on the gentle rock of the boat beneath her.
When she feels his presence getting closer the movement stops and then it's three heart thumping seconds before she is blinded by the bedside lamp. She blinks against the brightness, closing her eyes against the intrusion.
He is close, she feels his knees bump the mattress and when she opens her eyes he's looking down at her, his eyes raking over her cleavage, down her bare, exposed legs. She knows he is looking for telltale signs of what Charlie must have insinuated had just taken place and when his eyes make their way back to hers, her heart starts to thrum.
He looks pissed and the way his judgment is slamming into her right now makes her fingers curl over in response.
Her mouth parts, ready to lay into him for what he thinks he knows but before she gets the chance he is already moving away. He disappears from her view and she's no longer able to see what he's doing. She hears rustling, most likely searching her suitcase for her handcuff keys.
Her mouth parts, intent on saying something – anything to dispel the tension that's radiating but he is already heading back into view. This time he doesn't stop short of the mattress, instead he moves onto the bed, the mattress bowing beneath his weight as he begins to crawl up the length of her. Her breath catches, her heart rate thudding as she sinks beneath their combined weight. He wedges a leg between hers, keeping his body just above hers as he leans over to her cuffs.
She holds her breath as his face draws near. He isn't looking at her, he is focused on the cuffs, she however is focused on the leg between hers, so close to her heat and the fact that she could so easily, lift her thigh between his legs and brush the top of her thigh against his cock.
He breathes out against her forehead as if he can sense the tawdry thoughts that are now running through her head.
"You wanna tell me what you were thinking?" His voice is thick and gravelly and it makes her throat constrict from nerves.
She licks her lips, wrestling between the pent up anger she's still reconciling and the intense proximity she now has with him.
He twists the key, but it's stubborn and she feels him shift on his elbows, his knee incidentally knocking her legs apart. The cool night air hits her centre and she closes her eyes. Her inner thigh now intimately flush up against his pant leg.
His hands suddenly waver on her cuffs, and he's looking down at her now, unmoving, almost as if he is waiting for her answer before he unlocks them.
"Olivia-"
"No I don't Elliot," she rasps firmly, her eyes flitting up to meet his. She doesn't want to talk.
He lets go of her cuffs entirely then and shifts himself until he is propped up - an elbow either side of her face. The key is now bunched in a fist and he's staring down at her. She can feel it, her body stirring at the concept that he has now switched gears and is intent on keeping her in this vulnerable position until she talks.
Her eyes narrow in response to his, she is about to retaliate when the leg between hers knocks into her core, her dress is ridden up so high that his pant leg makes direct contact with her dampness.
Her mouth parts and she closes her eyes. Fuck. Dear. Lord. Please just-
"Start," he whispers, his mouth hovering downward, only just smoothing over her open mouth, "..talking."
"What do you want me to say?" she rasps against his lips. Her voice is horse, restricted and his proximity is weakening her resolve. There is anger imbedded in the arousal she's trying desperately to contain but he doesn't realize the pleasure he's just caused between her legs.
"It true Liv?" he murmurs, his accent thick. "She go down on you?" The question expels against her lips.
Christ.
Her eyes are still closed and her nipples instinctively harden at his rough delivery. She can tell he's equally pissed and turned on at the thought.
She sucks in a breath, allowing her tongue to dart out and coat her bottom lip and she can feel the tension above her escalate from that one action.
"Answer me," he rasps the demand and her eyes reluctantly open to capture the accusing pools of blue.
His face is closer than it was before and her heart is thudding, his chest inches from scraping her peaked nipples.
"Take them off," she rasps and her tone is low, almost drained. He thinks she means the cuffs but she's talking about his pants.
His lips loom dangerously close to hers and he's not letting up so she does the unthinkable. She raises her upper thigh and brushes her thigh muscle purposefully across the front of his dress pants. She feels the tip of his hard-on and he wastes no time moving a hand down and grasping her bare inner thigh. Her fingers dig into her sensitive skin, restricting any further movement.
"Answer the question Olivia.." the gravel drenched whisper breaks out across her forehead, "or I'll find out myself."
Her stomach flips and she arches her chest in response, her nipples scraping achingly across his shirt and he exhales against her mouth.
"Fuckk," he breathes out. And yes that's what she wants. To fuck.
She tries to move her thigh back up to his cock but he has a firm hold on her. There is perspiration under his palm and when she widens her legs his hand slips, until his fingers make contact with her damp core.
He groans against her temple at the feel of her juices and he doesn't hold back then, dragging two fingers down her centre, coating his fingers before he starts to slowly rub her clit.
Her breath hitches with each stroke. He is deliberate, measured - his fingers sliding from her clit down to her entrance and back up again. She can tell he wants to toy with her, take advantage of her vulnerable position but her resolve is slipping by the minute.
"El-liot," she whispers throatily, her eyes still closed as he continues to rub her. "Please just-" she whispers.
"Just what?" he toys, his breath exhaling against her cheek.
She lifts her right thigh high enough to rub his cock through his pants, causing the motion of his fingers to partly penetrate. They both moan in unison but it's not enough. He's keeping himself at a distance and only teasing her with light ministrations.
"Please, I need you to.. fuck El," she whimpers, tugging at her bound wrists frustrated as hell that she can't touch him.
He exhales against her forehead, his hand slipping from her core. He is moving then, sliding slowly down her body, until he is between her legs, grasping the lip of her dress and dragging it up over her hips. His wide shoulders move her legs apart and her fingers curl over the iron bar, bracing herself for what's in store. The moment his mouth makes contact with her centre she moans heavily in response, arching her chest - her heartbeat hammering as she feels the scrap of his stumble against her bare inner thighs, her head lolling back when his mouth closes over her clit.
"Ugh-," she grates out, her fingers gripping the iron bedpost as his tongue slides down her centre.
His shoulders knock her legs further apart until he is sliding a finger between her folds and she groaning now, her toes curling over in response, the stark juxtaposition of Elliot's rough movements to Charlie's delicacies are making her head spin. He slides in a second finger and she arches, the thick pressure moving between her tight walls, coupled with his mouth that is now pressing against her clit.
She is practically panting now.
"Fuuh-" she breathes out, squeezing the cold metal between her palms, letting him lift her thighs over his wide shoulders until he is flush up against her core. Her heart is thudding, her mind spinning. Her partner is going down on her mid-case while she is tied to a headboard. He slides his fingers out, releasing the pressure between her walls and instead he rubbing the firm pad of his thumb across her clit.
Her mouth his dry, her body bucking with each painstakingly erotic swipe of his thumb.
"She make you come Liv," he grates out against her thigh, the scrape of his 5 o'clock shadow marking the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He runs his tongue along the softness of her thigh, soothing the parts where he marked her as his thumb continues to stroke her clit. She feels a throb of want flood through her lower belly.
Fuck.
"Plea-se Elliot," she whimpers. No questions. Just this. Hands, tongue, fingers, pure want.
He slides a fingers back into her centre, followed by another until he is curling them upward as his tongue finds her clit once more. He begins to flick his tongue slowly back and forth, her voice waning, her breath heightening as her body rocks against mouth in response. She groans as he clamps his mouth over her clit and starts to suck. She feels her walls tighten immediately around his fingers in response and there is no holding back. The orgasm rips through her body, shattering in response and he holds her stomach down, his mouth continuing to press against her core giving her no choice but to ride out the orgasm.
"Elli- ugh" she calls out, perspiration beneath her palms causing her hands to slip against the iron and when she finally starts to come down he allows only a brief moment of recovery before he is slipping out of her entrance. He moves up the length of her then, his wide hips knocking her legs apart before he drops his mouth onto hers, groaning as he sinks his tongue between her lips.
"I could taste you on her lips Olivia," he murmurs hotly against her mouth, his hard-on pressing intimately between her legs, a reminder that he is far from done with her tonight. Her eyes slip closed as he begins to press his hips into her damp core, her sensitive body responding instantly, a rush of anticipation flooding below as her lower half still throbs with want.
"So tell me," he whispers against her swollen mouth. "She make you come?"
He nips her lower lip softly and Olivia lifts her mouth up until she's closing her lips over his, kissing him for one, long drawn out moment before she releases his mouth with a breathy exhale.
"Not like that," she mumbles throatily against his lips, realizing streams of moisture had seeped out of her eyes and into her hairline in the heat of the passion. She can still feel him, hard and prominent against her body and her heartbeat is thudding against her ribcage in anticipation of more.
Jesus Elliot, not like that, she thinks.
Because it's never been like that and it hits her in that moment that - case or no case - from this point onward the man above her has her at his complete undeniable, willing mercy.
TBC