A/N: Spun our minds and through time. Ignorance has taken over. Yo, we gotta take the power back! (Rage Against the Machine)
DISCLAIMER: SVU and all related plot/characters originally belong to Dick Wolf. This story, words, and dialogue are mine. © TStabler
They'd been at the apartment for two hours. Elliot's brooding had been going on long enough, it had lasted through three glasses of wine, and even Olivia's suggestion of taking a shower together had been refuted in favor of his stern-faced silence and heavily-heaving muscles.
Having his cast taken off gives him the freedom and ability to crack his knuckles, he winces when he does it for the fifth time in an hour. He downs the last sip of his wine and sighs, then eyes her with an unreadable look on his face.
"Okay," she finally says, waiting past her breaking point for him to talk to her. She kicks her feet off of the bed and stands, grabs the empty wine glasses off of the end table, and as she heads out of the room, she says, "If I would have known getting serious with you would immediately turn me into Kathy, I never would have."
"Fucking excuse me?" His eyes narrow at her words, and he rises fast and follows her. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" He watches as she puts the glasses into the sink and then grabs her coat. "What are you doing?" he asks, his heart hammering its way from his chest to his throat.
"I'm going to the house, you want to be alone so badly, so I'll see you in the morning," she tells him, and she's almost to the door when she sees him move out of the corners of her eyes.
"Wait," he gasps, runs a hand down his face, and shakes his head as he steps up to her. "I'm sorry," he whispers, and he grabs her jacket, pulling it back off of her arms. "I just…" he sighs. "I wanted to calm myself down this time, I know when we left work I was so close to blowing up at everyone. I'm trying to get a handle on this...I can't keep taking it out on you."
"That's not what you've been doing, and you know it," she whispers to him. She huffs a bit when he throws her coat back over the leather bench and she cups his face when he turns back to her. "You won't talk to me about what happened in that office, and whatever it was…"
He kisses her softly. He pulls her with him as he walks backward, heading back into the bedroom, and he deepens his kiss as he smooths his hands under her shirt. "I don't want to talk about it," he tells her, "Not until I know what to say...I had to figure some shit out, and I got lost in my own head for a while." He presses his forehead to hers, tugs on the fabric of her shirt to pop the buttons, and he smirks as he whispers, "Forgive me?"
She exhales and nods, her head rubbing against his, and she feels him swaying her as he peels away her clothes. "Are we dancing?" she asks softly, and she moans when he kisses her. She feels his fingers start to roll her pants down over her hips, his palms spread over the cheeks of her ass as he pushes the cotton lower.
"No, but you are," he whispers, and he turns her around. When her pants drop around her ankles, he gives her a soft shove toward the pole in the room. "Dance for me." He bites his lip, his cock twitches.
She turns and looks at him over her shoulder, and she raises one eyebrow. When she smirks at him, she sees the vein in his neck pulse, and she wraps one hand around the thick, metal cylinder. She feels exposed, clad only in her bra and the heels she hasn't kicked off, yet, but she sees the fire and desire in his eyes, the quelled rage she knows he has to fight to keep from boiling over.
He tugs his tie off and tosses it away, and then sits on the edge of the bed, watching her intently. As she moves, so do his fingers, practically ripping his shirt off of his chest. He can't breathe anymore. The more he watches her hips roll, her legs part, her thighs spread, the faster his heart beats. Beads of sweat form on his upper lip when she takes off her bra, and he wipes them away with his shirt before he throws it to the floor.
When she twists and turns around the pole, she hears him moaning, whimpering, and she grins as she throws herself into a spin and slides down, landing on her knees in front of him. She blinks once and it's clearly all he can take.
He grabs her and pulls her up to him, kisses her deeply, his hands grab for her breasts and he bends his head until her left nipple is in his mouth. He hears her heels fall to the floor, and he pulls her up higher. "Fuck, baby," he says as his teeth nip at the rosy bud. "So fucking incredible."
She shakes her head and pulls his hair until he's gazing up at her. "I gave you what you asked for, but…" she pushes him, hard, and then straddles his chest. "It's my turn, remember?"
His eyes widen, he loses his breath again, and he grips her ass as she slinks up his body. "Oh, fuck me," he groans; he feels her leaving a trail of wetness as she slides up his chest. When he figures out what she wants, he chuckles. "Your wish is my command," he says, gazing up into her eyes.
With a wink, she settles herself over his face, her knees rest on the mattress, her thighs close slightly against his ears. She grabs both of his hands and takes them in hers, bringing them up to her chest. Her jaw drops when his tongue starts moving, and she rocks her hips against his mouth. "Yes, Elliot," she pants.
He moans, he knows she can feel it in her pussy, and he starts to twist and pull at her nipples, egging her on, knowing it drives her crazy. He closes his eyes, then, savoring her taste, loving the way she's riding him, the noises she's making. He pulls harder, twists more, makes her back arch, gets her to cry out his name.
"Elliot," she moans again, her hands drop to his head, she pulls at his short hair and bucks her body harder and faster. "Make me cum," she demands on a whine, and she knows he's about to obey.
He growls and slips his hands down her body, grabs at her ass, holds her down to him as he swirls his tongue in tantalizing patterns, thrusts it upward into her three slow, hard times, and then flicks it over her clit. His eyes stay glued to her face as he moves his mouth again, wraps his lips around her clit, and sucks hard until she cries out for him.
Her head flies back, her nails clutch his scalp, and she moans his name over and over until she stops rocking against him. Panting, she looks down at him, sees the smug, satisfied, grin on his face, and knows there's only one way to get rid of it. She moves fast, flattening herself out on him, and she kisses him, hard.
"Fuck," he mumbles against her lips, and he knows damn well she can taste herself now, that in kissing him, the way their tongues dance and tangle, she absolutely can. His hands wind in her hair and he lifts his hips a bit, helping her as she works his pants off, and it hits him. She knows. "Baby," he whispers, kicking his feet to fling his pants away, "Tell me…"
"Figure it out," she snaps, grabbing a fistful of his hair, and she slams her mouth over his again. After a moment, she whispers, "You know what I want."
He hooks his hands under her knees and pulls, and he finds her entrance with ease. Kissing her, he thrusts upward, hard, and he curses into her mouth when she clamps around him immediately and screams against his lips. "Shit, baby," he mumbles, holding her tightly as she vibrates in his arms.
She gives him a throaty laugh and kisses her way down his neck, and then she grazes the skin of his shoulder with her teeth. She feels him twitch inside of her, feels the way his muscles flex and jerk as she moves. "Elliot," she whispers into his ear, and then she darts out her tongue and licks the curves of it, "Make love to me."
In an instant, he has her on her back, her legs wrapped around him. He looks down into her eye and whispers, "Always," as he thrusts forward, sinking deeper into her.
Tonight, there's no pretense, there are no games or gimmicks, she's in control and this is what she wants, what she needs. He will never understand how it's always the same thing he craves, too.
He kisses her and whispers, "I love you," as he pulls out of her, presses her legs upward, and slams back into her. With every slow, deep move, he kisses her again. Their bodies are perfectly aligned, their moans and growls are synchronized and in tune. He curls his fingers in between hers and presses them down into the mattress as he starts to rock in a more fervent rhythm. "Fuck, shit, yes," he spits softly. He drops his lips to her again and thrusts into her again.
Her hands squeeze his, her body rises to meet him, their kiss muffles her whimpering cries and beseeching moans. She pulls away for a moment, takes a deep breath, and says, "God, you feel so good." She nips at his lips again. "So, so good."
He moans and works himself into her deeper, his skin hits against hers loudly, it cracks in the silence. He nods, breathing heavily between kisses, and he feels her starting to shake under him. He drops his head to hers as he works through her clenching. "I love you," he whispers.
"I love you," she moans back to him, and when he kisses her again, her back arches again and she cums with a high, growling cry. It lands in his mouth, her hands tighten around his again.
He lets her orgasm trigger his, he feels his dick pulse as he shoots into her, and there's a part of him that knows he's marking her for life with every pump. He growls as his body seizes and he slams into her one last time.
She laughs when he rolls them over again and she settles over him as she struggles to catch her breath. "Oh, God, that was…"
He kisses her again and wraps his arms around her, holding her tightly as his rapidly beating heart pounds, he's sure she can feel it against her chest.
They spend a few minutes kissing, calming, and making silent promises to each other. He runs his hands through her hair and whispers, "I love you."
She nuzzles him, feels him twitch inside of her again, and she moans and says she loves him, too. And then she asks, "What had you so upset before?" She kisses him softly. "You weren't angry, this was...different."
He exhales and kisses her forehead. "Tucker was just…" he sighs and closes his eyes, drops his head back to the pillow. He looks at her as he twirls her hair with his fingers. "Cragen's not coming back anytime soon, we can't afford to keep you benched and I'm not sure if...I don't think I want to be in that office if it means you're out there doing God knows what."
She peers at him through her lidded eyes. "So your sour mood, that was because you don't want me to do my job…"
"Without me," he interrupts, biting his lip and nodding. He presses his fingers deeper into her scalp. "I don't want you doing anything without me," he whispers. He slides his hands down her neck, her back, and then grips her ass. "I know what we have now...this beautiful, intense...life together...means everything to me, but I'm not completely ready to lose my partner, ya know?"
She hums and her finger traces the definition lines in his chest. "I wouldn't exactly be thrilled having to go out on calls without you," she admits.
He smiles at her and squeezes her ass. "You give me stability, you keep me grounded. Baby, you...you have to understand, even though I get off on the power of being behind that desk, I fucking refuse to let anyone else call you their partner." He holds her gaze. "You're mine," he says.
She moans deeply when he slaps her ass hard with both of his hands. "Yes, I am," she tells him, and she drops her head and kisses him. "And you're mine." She brushes his nose against hers. "So what did you tell him?"
He inhales and clears his throat. "I told him...that until he found someone else to fill in, he would just have to deal with me playing Captain from my own desk." He smirked and smacked her ass again, moaning at her response. "Fuck, I love that you love that," he quips, and he grazes his fingertips over the red palm prints he's left on her skin. "And I love...that you love me."
"I do," she says, and she settles against him, resting her head on his chest. "So much," she sighs. She groans, then, hearing his phone ring. "You're being beckoned, Captain Stabler."
He chuckles. "Well, when you call me that, I fucking love it," he quips. He kisses her forehead as he reaches over to the side table to answer the call. "Stabler," he says, the fingers of his other hand still drawing circles on the cheek of her ass. "Oh, hi," he sits up, stunned. He holds up a finger at her, stopping her from asking questions. "You're where? How the hell...well, Cap, I have to tell her she's…" he taps her on her ass, making her move.
He has to stifle the moan when she pulls off of him, and he gets out of the bed and tries to find his pants. "Hang tight, we...we will be right there." He hangs up and pulls up his pants and says, "You need to get dressed, we have to…"
"I heard," she says, stepping over their tosses clothes to find her bra. "Where is he?"
"Philadelphia," he tells her. He zips up his pants and then moves to find his shirt. "At Riverside Correctional." He pulls it on and says, "In a holding cell."
Her jaw drops and she slips her legs into her pants as she studies him. She sees the signs. His tight muscles, his labored breathing, and his twitching fingers. She throws her shirt on and rushes to him. "Breathe," she says. "Focus it, and breathe," she repeats."And save it for when we get home."
He looks around the room, his eyes drop to the chest of drawers and then over to the swing. He grits his teeth and gives her a much harder slap on her ass. "Prepare yourself," he growls, and he leaves the room to find his shoes and get their coats.
When it registers, she grins. "Bring it on, Stabler," she chuckles, and follows after him, hoping they can get Cragen out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into, and that Elliot won't be pushed over the edge when he's pulled into it.
A/N: There's more to this story than I thought...hang tight.