A/N: There are so, so many people to thank for this chapter, my goodness. To everyone who I've talked to about this chapter, thank you. To the people who are about to make a voodoo doll of me, I'm sorry LOL
For the first time in six months, he has no clue what he needs to do next.
There's no new move or play that he can make. He's run through all of them in his head, all of them more dangerous than the last. On the outside, he's chuckling along with Damon, and on the inside, he is burning, incinerating at the sight of her like this.
She's doing exactly what needs to be done.
But it's killing him.
He should have warned her about Brooke. Maybe he'll get slapped by Olivia again, he thinks. Maybe she'll leave the entire operation in her wake and be done. There's a rising feeling in his gut that tells him this is just the beginning. That Olivia will stay and she will do whatever is necessary.
Brooke is the key to the evidence they need in order to get out.
If Olivia is game, so is he.
Alicia moves to Marco's side, and slowly the bar starts to grow quieter as people leave. Soon enough it's just the four of them; Brooke on top of Olivia, and Damon by his side.
"Looks like we're gonna have our hands full tonight," Damon laughs.
Elliot feels himself stiffen – he hadn't accounted for Damon wanting to stick around. He never seemed like the type, and his fears wash away as he stands up and calls over to Brooke.
"Mmm," Brooke moans, moving her mouth down Olivia's throat. She presses open-mouthed kisses along her neck and looks over to Elliot again with a smile. Everything is a power play to Brooke; she knows that she's gotten in his head and she'll keep using it. He can only pray that he's played her in return well enough that they're able to get information out of her. "She's so much fun though, Damon."
"Five minutes," Damon growls to Brooke. "Then you're mine." He turns back to Elliot, flashing him a warning look as he heads towards the back door of the bar and into the night.
The door slams, and suddenly he is alone, watching helplessly as Brooke goes back to kissing Olivia, and he wonders if he will ever breathe again.
She doesn't kiss like Elliot.
It's all that keeps running through her mind. It's not like Elliot; his kisses are possessive and dominant and passionate. Brooke's mouth is soft and pliable against her own, and she kisses Olivia with the corners of her mouth turned up into a smile, because she knows it's just a game. She might have played this with other women, but she's never met Olivia.
That much she's willing to bet on.
Brooke's dark fingers move down from her hair, trailing lazily over her collarbone. Then they're dipping lower, lower, until Olivia's gasping into the woman's mouth as her hand closes around her breast. Her tongue tastes like the tequila they shared – and she isn't sure if it's the liquor or the dangerous game they're playing, but there's a burning deep in her lower belly.
She's flooded with need. Olivia uses the hand wrapped around the younger woman's waist as leverage and lifts them from the chair, earning a surprised moan from Brooke. Twisting them, she switches their positions, depositing her into the chair. She straddles the raven-haired woman and goes back to work, kissing her neck.
It's then that she chances a look up at the bar where she knows Elliot is sitting. She holds his gaze – darting her tongue out to meet the shell of Brooke's ear. His eyes darken on hers instantly. He leans back in his seat, drinking in the sight of them together.
"Do it," he mouths to her.
It's all the permission she needs.
Gone are Detective Benson and Stabler. She lets her new persona and identity take her over. It's a comforting, alluring feeling. Giving into darkness was never her strong suit, but tonight, with Elliot, it is.
Olivia dips her tongue into Brooke's mouth and works the button on the front of her lover's jeans, opening them with ease. The woman on top of her gasps quietly when Olivia's index finger glides down the zipper. She pulls back just enough that she can make eye contact with her – she wants to see the look in Brooke's eyes as she takes the control back from her that she tried to take from Elliot.
It's her own form of being possessive; getting even with the woman who tried to toy with Elliot and by proxy, herself.
"Olivia," she whispers, a little breathless. "Don't start something you can't finish."
There's a daring look in her eyes. She doesn't think she'll do it.
Prove her wrong, she can hear Elliot saying to her in her head. Do it.
Her fingers slide into Brooke's jeans. She looks over the woman's shoulder at Elliot, whose mouth parts upon their eye contact. Olivia lays her left hand on Brooke's throat, just resting it there. A low, appreciative rumble forms under her fingers, and a smile ghosts over Olivia's lips. She's winning, and she can feel it. She knows it. Brooke's hands roam and explore her body but they are nowhere near as taunting and advanced as Olivia's.
She closes her eyes the moment she brushes Brooke's panties aside and feels her slick need against her fingers. A moan breaks from both of their mouths and she kisses Brooke to muffle their noises, and she's not sure why she does. They're alone in the bar, and her partner is watching everything that happens. Surely, she will hear all about this later.
That thought exhilarates and frightens her just a little bit.
"Fuck," Brooke moans through gritted teeth. She nearly smiles seeing the woman coming undone with just a few light touches of her fingers. Olivia dips two fingers along her folds, feeling the slippery, smooth skin beneath her touch. She's never touched a woman like this before and it's exciting and erotic – more so than she had ever expected.
It's something she'll have to think about another time.
For now, she brushes her fingertips over Brooke's clit in slow, torturous circles. Olivia shifts in her lap to give her hand a better angle between them. She locks eyes with Elliot again and leans into the woman beneath her, capturing her bottom lip between her teeth. Brooke rolls her hips in time with her fingers, encouraging her to continue her movements.
She grins into her mouth. Brooke tried to play with them and Olivia has nearly won – her victory is so close she can taste it. Last night's version of initiation was nothing compared to tonight. She's more prepared, her head is in the game. Elliot is on her side and although they are not Detectives tonight; he's her partner in this now more than ever.
She pulls back slightly, resting her forehead on Brooke's. Her onyx eyes are a dead giveaway of her arousal if the red tinge to her mahogany skin hadn't already. Olivia runs her tongue over her bottom lip, watching her lover's breath coming and going in soft pants against her mouth. The lipstick that had been on Brooke's mouth is nearly gone. All that's left is smudged across her bottom lip, and probably on her own lips.
"Tell me," Olivia taunts.
"Don't fucking stop," Brooke groans, moving her hands up into Olivia's hair to pull her in for another kiss. This time she let Brooke's desperation take control of the kiss, and soon her tongue is running along hers, the sound of their mouths and Brooke's moans echoing in Olivia's ears.
Her fingers quicken, twitching, and circling Brooke's sensitive core with increased fervor. She skimmed her lips over the woman's cheek and down her neck, kissing and sucking and marking her. Brooke didn't belong to Olivia but she wanted to mark her, to give Damon a physical reminder of her presence with his wife tonight.
When she sees Elliot this time, his chest is red, and his eyes are almost black. She's never seen him look this dangerous before. His leather jacket is tight across his shoulders with strain from his tense body, but his narrowed eyes at her only drive her to keep going.
"That's my girl," he mouths, flicking the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray.
Brooke is nearly there, she can feel her twitching and moaning.
Just a few more seconds and Olivia will win.
She goes for the kill.
"Come for me," Olivia commands in her ear.
"Fu-"
The bar door opens. Olivia knows it's Damon by the way that Brooke's trance is broken and she stiffens just a little bit, her breathing cutting off completely. It's almost too quick – how fast the pair part ways, how Olivia's hand comes out from Brooke's jeans and so suddenly, she is standing in front of the chair they had both been in.
Her fingers are still wet.
"Goodnight, Olivia."
Brooke and Damon disappear into the night.
She's always been sure of herself.
There was never any fear that resided in her about living in her own skin. Sometimes it got difficult, sometimes she hated the woman that looked back at her in the mirror and sometimes she didn't even recognize herself at all.
Tonight had shaken her.
One minute she was buzzing, alight with tequila and courage flowing through her veins. The next, Brooke had straddled her and she found herself seeking her tongue and running her hands all over her. It had only escalated from there – she closes her eyes, remembering the sensation of feeling the wetness between her fingers that she had caused, and the pleasure that she had been giving Brooke.
They're back in the motel room. It's safe and clean inside the room although it's nothing special, it will do for tonight. Elliot had grabbed her hand and lead her back to the room. He didn't kiss her or touch her. Currently, he stands across the room from her, his hands on his hips. His eyes are vacant and far away – she knows he is reliving what had happened in the bar.
She'd never kissed a woman before. The feeling was nearly overwhelming, how soft and pliable Brooke's lips were, while her hands were much the opposite – scraping over her ribs, brushing so lightly over her nipples it left her gasping into Brooke's mouth. Olivia had been relentless in seeking out and taking what she wanted; one-upping the way Brooke had touched her with more intimacy than she had ever expected with the woman.
Olivia couldn't even look over at Elliot when Brooke had finished. She'd expected his anger, instead, he greeted her with acceptance and compliance. For reasons unknown to her, it only served to make herself angry over his lack of reaction.
"You…" he begins, but he trails off. "Why did you kiss her like that?"
Ah. There's the reaction.
Olivia raises an eyebrow towards him and begins to kick off her boots. "What do you mean?"
She hopes he won't look at her differently.
She knows in her heart he won't. Not after everything they've been through, including the past few days. Her time with Brooke had only proven to her what she truly wants, more than anything.
Him.
Elliot stands, quickly crossing the floor and only stopping mere inches from her. She steps backward, only for her shoulders to come into contact with the motel room door. His mouth brushes against hers as he speaks, and his eyes are fixed on her. "You know exactly what I mean."
Her pulse quickens just from his proximity. Each word that comes from his mouth results in his lips moving over hers and she wants to moan, to lean into him, and give him everything he wants.
She won't let him get off that easily.
"Enlighten me," she whispers, and she doesn't sound as tough as she wants to.
He relents and covers her mouth with his, and it's not long before his tongue is in her mouth, sweeping, exploring her. His mouth is hot and he tastes like beer and cigarettes, and it's something that new for her, for them – but she finds herself craving it, wanting to taste him more. There's something about the taste of him like this, undercover, more dangerous than she's ever seen him.
He emanates possessiveness, dominance, power. It's different than what she was used to on the outside of this organization. He moves, and she does too. In public, she is there for him, to serve him, to pleasure him. He calls the shots.
Elliot's demeanor wavers when they're alone. She's sensed it in the past day. He's trying to keep up with the rouse, but she is nothing if not stubborn and strong-headed. She's fighting him on everything and she feels him breaking down slowly.
But he never gives up.
"You kissed her like this," he mumbles against her lips. His mouth opens and his tongue slides against hers, his nose knocking gently on her cheek as he tilts his head. Elliot's fingers find her hair and knot in the locks. He mimics what she had done with Brooke, but she feels the ache burning deeply in her belly at the possessiveness he kisses her with.
They've been physical with each other for less than a day but they can never step back. There is no reversal switch with them anymore. She sets aside her detective shield and their partnership for tonight – because even after everything that's happened, everything she suspects will happen in the future, they deserve to have this time for themselves.
Elliot's teeth scrape over her bottom lip and it makes the heat rise to her skin so severely that soon her hands are beneath his shirt, scratching on his back in a silent plea for more of him. "Olivia," he rasps. "Take off your clothes."
He pulls back from her, and at first, she thinks it's to see her reaction, but she recognizes the heat in his gaze, the intensity of his focus on her. He's watching her. His eyes are unrecognizably dark. Goosebumps spread over her arms and she swallows, walking towards the motel room bed.
Her shirt drops to the floor beside her shoes and she turns to face him again, reaching behind her to unclasp her black lace bra. Her pants go next and her heart is pounding while she takes in Elliot stripping off his shirt. He's barefoot with only jeans on, and she sits perched on the edge of the bed naked for him.
Olivia's thighs part when he comes to stand between her legs. She's almost nervous; she wants him badly but she understands his need to be protective, possessive. Something deep inside of her loves it and craves it, and part of her feels the need to lash out, to make him jealous. It throws the power back in her court.
His eyes are locked on hers, although he doesn't move to crawl over her like she thinks he will. She wants the feeling of him on top of her, driving into her. He simply stands there, and quietly runs his thumb over her lips.
She unbuttons his jeans and pushes them down over his hips before looking back up at him, a devious smile threatening to play at her lips. "Is this what you want?" Olivia purrs, her tongue darting out to glide along the length of him. His only response is a subdued gasp and nodding, his bottom lip firmly between his teeth. Elliot's hands gather her hair into a ponytail and he holds her head gently. She's free to go at her own pace and she does, taking him deeply into her hot mouth until he's hitting the back of her throat.
"Mine," he gasps out. "You're mine."
Olivia hums in agreement around him, causing him to groan her name deeply. His head falls back in pleasure for a moment and then he tips it forward again, looking down at her with that same intensity as before. "You won tonight with Brooke."
Suddenly, he's a talker.
"I know." She's got a hint of arrogance in her voice but she's busy and goes back to swirling her tongue over the tip of his cock. It momentarily overwhelms her – the thought that this is the second person she's pleasured tonight. With Elliot it's completely different; there's a level of intimacy she would never find with Brooke or anyone else for that matter. He's a permanent fixture, no matter how mad they get or how far they go with this operation.
"You think that you can just do whatever you want here?" he groans when she takes him down her throat again. Elliot thrusts to meet her mouth, and she watches as his eyes roll back in pleasure. Her nerve endings are on fire; she's bordering on overstimulation tonight. His hand is under her chin then, gripping her jaw as his length falls from her lips. "I'm running this, Liv."
Her nails scratch down his muscular thighs. "Are you? Cause I think I proved tonight that I am," she taunts. After years of back and forth between them, him dating women after his split with Kathy, dangling them seemingly right in front of her eyes – she's trying to take exactly what she wants.
Elliot pushes her back onto the bed and folds himself over her, grasping her thighs in his palms and yanking her body towards him at the edge of the bed. His hands splayed over her naked chest, roughly cupping and squeezing her breasts before reaching lower, dragging down her body intimately.
"Christ," he groans loudly, her wetness coating his fingers. Her arousal has been pounding between her legs for over an hour now and she's desperate, so desperate for release. Elliot's thumb slips over her clit and her back careens off of the bed, arching towards him.
"Don't tease, El… I can't-" her voice cuts off as he abruptly lines up and enters her, his thick length burying inside of her until his hips meet hers. He pulls her long, tanned legs up to his shoulders and starts a punishing, brutal pace. It's rough but it's what she needs after tonight – her skin is buzzing from the thrill of the night and testing Elliot's resolve.
"She's gonna want you again," Elliot grunts, holding her thighs tightly to his body. "Can you handle that?" He accentuates his words with the snapping of his lower half into her. She smirks up at his cobalt eyes – the anger and lust that she finds there send a chill down her spine.
"Can you?"
She can't help herself.
"Screw you," Elliot growls, gripping her legs harder. A laugh escapes her mouth because of course, they're arguing while they're fucking – it's exactly who they are. She'll be bruised in the morning but it won't matter because it feels so good. Olivia moans, smoothing her fingers over his. She isn't going to last long if he keeps this pace, and by now he must feel the way her body is tightening for him, but if he does, he won't show it. Not tonight, when his jealousy has gotten the best of him.
They've only slept together a few times now. Perhaps it's the length of time they've spent as partners that give her insight into what he's thinking now – all she knows is that he isn't going to let this go easily. This will be the first round of many, and she wonders if he's ever fucked someone with this little inhibition.
Elliot flips her over and then he's deep, deep inside of her. The breath falls out of her lungs, she can barely contain the way her body immediately reacts to him. Her orgasm nearly forces him out of her when it hits; the intensity of it has her grasping at the sheets and crying out his name. His cock slams into her and his open palm pushes on her back, her aching nipples scrape against the bedsheets.
"Fuck yes," he grunts. Elliot's fingers close in her hair and tug, and she is grunting and crying out with every thrust. Her body is shaking now, sweat is pouring off of both of them and she knows the next time she comes, it will probably rip her apart. "God, Liv…"
The strain in his voice tells her everything she needs to know.
Olivia manages to push herself up onto her knees, leaning back into his hard chest. His free hand circles her waist and dips lower until her legs twitch. He swipes at her clit expertly, and the sensations mixed with his grunts in her ear send her over the edge a second time. Her head falls back onto his shoulder just as he sinks his teeth into hers.
"El, El," she cries, and it's the only thing she can feel and think of, just him.
He thickens inside of her and then he's tumbling as well. The morning will bring bruises and soreness for both of them but for now he slows his thrusts until he's barely moving, the slickness from their activities slowly trailing down their thighs.
Tonight she breathes, for tomorrow will only bring more challenges.
She's gonna want you again.
They'll have to come up with a plan later, she thinks.
It's only going to get more dangerous from here.