A/N: When you find a love so intense and so certain, you do everything you can to keep it.
What about love? I only wanna share it with you. - Heart
DISCLAIMER: Characters and background information are the sole property of DICK WOLF. The content of this story is the sole property of Tstabler©
The way his lips move over her skin sets her entire body on fire. Tingles and pin-pricks course through her system and when she feels it in the pit of her stomach, the truth becomes clear. "El," she breathes, her heart thumps harder against her chest as she presses her palms into his chest, the fabric of his polo shirt feels like lava under her touch. "El, baby, wait…"
He backs up immediately, rests his hands on her hips and looks at her, his red lips and heated skin are vibrating. "What? What'd I do? What happened?"
She shakes her head and takes a breath. "Nothing, it's not…" she smiles and inhales again, "Trust me, you are doing all the right things, here," she sees him smirk and he moves to kiss her again. She holds up a hand. "I need to tell you something," she whispers.
He stops breathing. He stops moving. He feels like he's dying. "Oh, no," his grip on her tightens.
"God, no, El, it's...it's nothing…" she shifts and drops her hands to his knees. "I was just...I realized, this is intense. Us. We are. And I just have to tell you something before I fuck everything up." She licks her lips and breathes again. "In the last four years, you've watched me go through boyfriends like I go through shoes."
"I like your shoes more than I liked any of your boyfriends," he laughs. "I'm the last one, right? You're mine. For life."
She smirks at him as she nods and runs her hands up his thighs. "My point," she lifts one shoulder and swallows her fear and her pride. "When it got serious...for them...I ran. It was never serious for me, and I couldn't let them think it was, ya know? With you...El, I am terrified, and I'm not running." She rubs her lips together. "I am fighting the fear with everything I have, because for the first time in my life...I'm all in, I just don't want to get…"
"You know…" he stops himself, he smiles. "I promise you, just like I did four years ago, that I will never hurt you, I will never give you a reason to doubt me, and I will never...ever...stop loving you the way that I have...for so damn long." He kisses her again, and he whispers something against her lips.
His words send shivers down her spine and she says, "Always, El. I promise." She sniffles, on the verge of tears. "That's what I wanted to...why I stopped you. I had to tell you, I needed you to know that I'm not going anywhere. I swear."
He squints. "You heard me," he realizes. "Honey...when I told Fin I was worried about you leaving me…" he brushes her hair back, kisses her forehead, and he moans softly. "Baby, I meant at work." He watches her tilt her head, he can tell she's confused. "Tucker, uh...did he call you?"
She shakes her head. "No, why?"
He exhales and nuzzles her nose with his, kisses her again, drags his lips and tongue over the thin skin of her neck as his fingers slip under her shirt, he flattens his hand over her stomach and looks into her eyes again. "He's gonna, and when he does...he's gonna offer you…"
"Oh, El," she whispers, "I already told Monahan I didn't want the job," she explains, knowing what he's getting at. "Why would you even think…"
"Because it's an incredible opportunity," he interrupts, and he stops, softening his voice and the expression on his face. "You'd have to be crazy to pass that up."
"I guess I'm crazy, then," she laughs, dragging her nails up and down his neck. She can feel him move again, she's purposely reigniting the flames and ignoring what he's said, because there's nowhere else she'd rather be than by his side, no matter how much bigger the paycheck would be.
He rolls his neck and pulls her shirt up and over her head, he begins to growl at the way her skin flushes when it meets the cool air in the room. He throws her shirt over his head and bends to nip and lick at the tops of her breasts. Between kisses he says, "I wouldn't be mad at you, if you wanted the job, baby, I would…"
"Not ready," she confesses on a soft moan, stopping his speaking. Her nails drag along his scalp. "Need to be with you." Her head drops back when she feels his mouth wrap around a silk-covered nipple, and she gasps, wondering how he managed to get his hand down her pants without her noticing.
His fingers weave between her folds and with a short grunt, he pushes them into her. "Thank God," he pants, and his free hand starts to tug on his twists his wrist and listens to the heavenly keening emanating from her. She's his; she's promised him that.
She skims her hands down to the hem of his polo and she pulls roughly, making him growl a bit louder. She throws the shirt and it lands on the floor somewhere next to hers.
He unhooks her bra and peels away her pants, almost blowing his gasket when he sees that she isn't wearing any underwear. "Fuck," he sighs, tossing away the bundle of clothes in his hands, and he says, "Happy Valentine's Day," with a smirk and wink.
She winks right back at him, grabs him around the neck, and pulls her to him for a fiery kiss. She doesn't know what sort of saint she was in a past life, she must've been one to deserve this. He'd already done everything he could, so much more than she'd expected because she'd honestly expected nothing. He'd awakened her with breakfast in bed, three hours before the alarm would go off. He'd made love to her until the sun came up, and once they'd gotten the kids out of the house, he'd given her the most beautiful pair of earrings she'd ever seen. He'd driven her to work and had sung cheesy love songs to her from behind the wheel. He'd bought her coffee and a cupcake on their way into their building, and he'd been an absolute gentleman for the rest of the day. He'd taken her to a candlelit dinner as soon as their shift was done, and he'd made sure the kids would stay at their mother's for the night so he could do exactly what he was doing now: take her in every room in the house, starting with the middle of the living room.
It's their first Valentine's Day as something more than illicit lovers, as something more permanent and moral, but it's not any more or less important than any other night they've spent together.
He makes her breakfast every day. They make love more than once, every day, every night, because they're making up for lost time and they can't get enough. He buys her presents for no reason at all, whenever he can, because he feels it's his job to spoil her like no one else ever has, ever will. They buy each other coffee and cupcakes or donuts or cookies or muffins because they're cops and it comes with the territory. He treats her to dinner once a week, she treats him to dinner, too, because they're attempting to "date" in efforts to make up for not "dating" at all. The kids have to stay with their mother at least twice a month, and it's their ritualistic right to take advantage of the time alone.
It's nothing new, but Goddamn, it's a fucking perfect Valentine's Day nonetheless.
He presses into her, flattening her out on the couch, moaning as her lips kiss parts of his neck,shoulders, and chest. "Liv," he whispers, and he nudges her thighs apart with his knee. "Tell me what you…"
"You know exactly what I want," she interrupts, and she arches her back to prod him into action. "You always know."
He nods, biting his lip, and he thrusts once, sheathing himself inside of her completely. The guttural cry of her name he gives as he throws his head back fills the entire room. When his head drops forward, he looks at her and he knows there is no fucking feeling like this, and no one but him is ever going to fucking experience it. "I love you," he says, and he starts to slowly thrust and rock, hooking his arms under her knees.
Her head drops back into the arm of the couch as he hits a spot that makes her head spin. She can't scream, though, God, she fucking wants to, so she scratches his back hard and deep. "Elliot," she moans, meeting his eyes again.
He bends his head as he thrusts slowly, deeply, powerfully, and he kisses her softly. "I love you."
She says it back, her lips moving against hers, and she shakes a bit when the first of what will certainly be many blissful earthquakes rumbles through her body.
"How much?" His question comes out on a gravel path of pure emotion.
"More than anything," she cries, feeling her body burn and uncontrollably tremble as she cums beneath him.
He slows his thrusting even more, hits as deep as he possibly can, and he whispers with his lips moving against hers, "Enough to marry me?"
She freezes; her body tenses so tightly that he can't pull out, and she hears him curse but he doesn't look away from her stunned eyes. She smiles, loops her arms around his neck, kisses him, and says, "If you're asking me that question, you know the answer. You wouldn't ask if you weren't sure I'd say…"
"Yes," he smirks and he starts moving again, a new motivation behind his actions. He laughs as he kisses her again and he tries to remember what drawer he put the ring in, the last gift she's getting tonight. "You are saying yes, aren't you?" He chuckles as he gives a forceful thrust of his hips, making her moan and clench and cum again.
She nods. "God, yes, baby." She kisses him as she curls around him, and she smiles against his lips. He's found a way to make today incredibly special after all.
A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
