There was nothing different about today. It was the same as any other day; more mundane, in fact. No high stakes, no stress, some paperwork, an open-and-shut case. Nothing to justify why the spark that had steadily been growing for twelve years suddenly couldn't be smothered. No reason they both allowed the looks to linger when their eyes met across their desks. No explanation for why she knew it wouldn't be the last time she would see him tonight when they said goodbye at the precinct.
But she knew this is how it would happen. One of them, at some point, would finally snap. And she knew that if it was him, she wouldn't fight it, even if it was just for one night.
So she wasn't surprised when he showed up at her door just minutes after she got home. He was staring her down, his chest rising and falling more prominently than usual. She saw on his face that he was trying to talk himself out of it, but she knew he wouldn't be able to. She'd seen the desire in his eyes before, but it was never this clear, this palpable, this far over the point of no return. And when he stepped toward her, she was kissing him back before he even made contact with her lips.
She stumbled back at the impact and Olivia barely had room to swing the door closed before Elliot moved her hastily toward the beam of the bar outside the kitchen. It was unnerving how it felt new, and somehow felt old at the same time; How they knew each other's bodies like they'd been making love for decades, but she couldn't get enough of his lips, his chest, the sensations she'd wondered about for years, and it was far from disappointing.
Warmth and adrenaline ran through her body at the touch of his hands at her abdomen, and she wanted them to slide up further, feel the breasts she knew he spent so much time looking at, thinking about. God, she thought about it too, maybe more than him. She knew it was wrong, she knew he was married.
But she loved him.
She'd loved him for so long.
And she knew that if this ever happened, she'd be helpless to stop it.
Hell, she needed it to happen. At least once.
But goddam his hands for barely skimming the sides of her breasts on his way up to her face. His mouth hadn't left hers since he walked into her apartment, his tongue brushing hers with every kiss and she loved the feel of him so much she thought she actually whimpered when he pulled away, pressed his forehead to hers.
He dropped his hands to her hips and he swallowed hard, fisting the material of her shirt in his hands. "Fuck…" he whispered breathlessly. "I'm sorry… I don't know why today, but…"
She splayed her hands over his back, pulling him closer. "I know." She thought it was incredible how much they'd said to each other over the years without ever saying anything. How they could be on the same page even though they never talked about the book.
"You gotta be the one to stop this, Liv. 'Cause I…"
She shook her head against his. He must know how badly she needed him to touch her. "I can't," she whispered back. She took his head in her hands, forcing his eyes to find hers. "I don't want to stop, Elliot."
His lips were back on hers in no time and she got to work on the buttons of his shirt. His hands quickly made their way under her blouse and she moaned at the feeling of his warm hands on her bare skin. Her head lolled back onto the beam behind her the moment he grasped her lace-clad breasts and he practically collapsed into her, pinning her to the beam as he groaned, kneading her. His mouth moved to her neck, then, and his hips rolled into hers. His long cock getting hard against her sent her body into overdrive.
She pushed him back, reluctantly, but necessarily since he had pinned all their clothes between them and they were a huge hinderance in her ultimate goal, and she whipped her shirt over her head before doing the same to his, then started to slip his belt out of the loop, but before she could get any further, the cup of her bra was pulled down and his hot, wet mouth was sucking on her nipple.
"Oh god!" she moaned, encouraging his actions as she held his head and arched into his mouth. She reached back and unclasped her bra, slid it off as he squeezed her with both hands, pressing her breasts into his face before treating the other nipple just as sensually.
"Fuck!" she cried out. One of his hands made its way down and was rubbing her pussy through her pants. Jesus, she could already feel her wetness seeping onto her panties. His lips were back on her neck, and she breathed into his ear. "Elliot…"
He stopped for just a second before she felt his hand on her abdomen, quickly sneaking into her pants. Then his finger was inside her and she gasped before a drawn-out moan involuntarily left her heaving chest.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to touch you like this," Elliot mumbled against her skin.
She let out a soft laugh, as much as a laugh as she could muster with his finger penetrating her, and she maneuvered her head to nudge his so he would look at her. "I have some idea," she said, her tone low and teasing as her hand gripped his cock through his slacks and she sighed once again at the relief of feeling him in her hand.
They both closed their eyes at her touch. "I've thought about how you'd feel," she whispered, running her hand up and down his shaft. "How hard you'd be for me."
He breathed into her neck, his tone weighty and serious. "I used to feel guilty for how often I'd get hard for you, Liv. Until it just became routine." He removed his hand from her pants and stilled her ministrations. "Which is why you need to stop or this is going to be over much too soon. I've been hard for you for over a decade."
She bit her lip and nodded, then he spun her around, kissing her hard as they stepped away from the wall. "Right now…" he said between kisses, undoing the button of her pants. "I need to taste you."
She gasped at the words and the fact that her ass ran into the kitchen table and she was pushing her pants down as he pulled. Before she could even get them past her knees, Elliot's tongue flattened over her pussy and ran up the entire length of her slit from her opening to her clit. His warm, wet, strong tongue lapped her over and over and her torso fell back onto the table as he pulled her pants and panties off the rest of the way and she wrapped her legs around his shoulders. One hand on her breast, the other on his head, she couldn't believe this was Elliot between her thighs. Her imagination was nothing compared to the real thing and she knew she'd never have a dry dream again. She looked down to watch him, wanting to imprint the image of him eating her, brand it on her memory along with the sounds and sensations, the heat rushing to her core. He was on his knees, sucking her clit and all her senses were at his mercy. She couldn't get enough of it. It's like he knew how badly she needed his mouth on her clit because he's worshiping her there. His lips playing with her pussy, his warm tongue going round and round, up and down.
"Fuck!" she shouted as she felt his fingers back inside her, sliding against her wet core. She moved her hips, rubbing herself against his tongue and it wasn't long before she was falling apart, gushing into his mouth. She couldn't believe he was still lapping her up, moaning with her as she came.
She pulled him up when she finished and dove into his mouth, longing to taste herself on his tongue. She shoved his pants down, then, tore each of his garments off until he was naked and she nudged him toward the bedroom, landing on the couch when she got too antsy to make it that far. She pushed him down and leaned over him, trailing kisses down his hard body. Elliot attempted to pull her back up, but if she only had tonight, she wanted to leave him with the memory of her tongue on his cock. Hell, she needed to know the sensation of him filling her mouth, prodding her throat. She was electric, primal, and she wants to ravage him, discover every inch of his body.
His hands were in his hair when she finally allowed her lips to kiss his shaft, then she trailed her wet tongue from his testicles to his tip, swirling it around his head before she lowered her mouth over him. She sucked him hard, encouraged by his desperate groans. He was already so turned on that there was no need for her to start slowly. She bobbed her head over his cock, humming and letting the vibrations spur him on as his head hit the back of her throat and she pressed him just a bit further.
"Jesus Christ," he cursed as he sat up and lifted her head. Pure amazement and desire lit his eyes before he kissed her heatedly. "I need to be inside you when I cum," he said.
She nodded in agreement. She needed it too. So she straddled him and held onto his shoulders, then stopped, something weighing on her as she looked at him, their eyes sharing the significance of the moment. It wasn't a nervousness or a hesitation, but some acknowledgement about what they were about to finally do—bring their physical relationship to match its emotional counterpart. He brought his hands to her head and kissed her, their breath telling each other that this moment was huge, and she smiled against his lips as he lined himself up and slid her down his shaft, just a few thrusts until he was completely buried.
She gasped at the sensation of him filling her, finally. And they sat there for a few moments, silently acknowledging how long each of them had needed this.
"I love you, Liv."
His whispered confession caused her eyes to pop open and her head to lift slowly and she met his eyes—they were so honest, somewhat aching, and her chest burned with adoration for this man. Then she started to move slowly, wrapping her arms around his neck as she rocked back and forth. She leaned the side of her head against his and whispered in his ear. "I love you, El."
He surprised her by standing after she picked up her speed, his incredible strength keeping her steady, still encasing his cock and he moved to the bedroom, again finding a barrier on the wall where he stopped and pounded into her. Her instinct was to kiss him everywhere, his neck his lips, his chest, but her mouth was frozen open at his shoulder, her teeth landing there as she moaned and her nails dug into his shoulders.
When she finally found her words, she let her long-suppressed desire known. "El… fuck... Bend me over the bed and take me from behind," she begged into his ear.
Elliot stilled and muttered several expletives, then dipped down and devoured one of her breasts, sucking hard on her nipple before walking her to the bedroom and setting her down in front of the bed. She smiled at him seductively, then turned around, slowly bent at the waist, then grabbed a handful of her sheets as she looked back and waited, grinning at Elliot's look of astonishment.
He palmed her ass, a muttered "fuck" escaping his lips as she sprawled herself over the sheets. His hands traveled up her body, feeling her back and arms, wet kisses left sporadically as he worked his way up until his erection landed on her ass, reminding her of all the filthy things she'd imagined in her head over the years—on her bed, over their desks, on the table of an interrogation room… she'd imagined his position countless times in countless places.
His hand flattened over the top of her spine and he dragged it down to her tailbone as he straightened. Then he lined his dick up with her entrance, teasing her with his tip, moving it up and down from her entrance to her clit, soaking it in her wetness.
"Hard," she rasped, not fearing in the least that he'd judge her for how she liked it. They'd talked at bars and with work friends over the years about what they preferred in bed. Those conversations were usually drunken and joking in nature, but unbeknownst to their friends, the comments were always directed toward each other, for the day this happened.
"OHh! Elliot!" Her face fell forward into the mattress when he slammed into her, his hips slapping against her ass. Again, and again, and again.
She moaned in ecstasy, pushing up with her hands and arching her back, her head thrown in his direction. He leaned in and held her torso against his chest with one arm seat-belting her until his hand grasped her breast, then traveled up to her throat, the other hand holding her hips, fucking her hard. She couldn't help but to moan as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, a chill running down her spine and her core tightened. But then he stopped, his dick deep inside her.
"Not yet," he whispered. And it almost infuriated her that this was their first time together and he somehow knew how to tell she was about to cum.
He pulled out and spun her around, then lifted her just a bit so she could crawl back onto the bed. He crawled over her, then, and his lips searched out every part of her body: her hips, her waist, her navel, her breasts, her ribs, her collar bone. He couldn't get enough and she was writhing beneath him, her pussy throbbing with need.
"El, please." She couldn't go slow. Not now. Probably not ever. Not with him.
He was on top of her the moment she begged, his hips thrusting, and she grabbed his ass, feeling his tight muscles as they propelled his cock into her. She was outside herself in ecstasy and she wanted this to last forever, but she also really, really wanted to cum. His dick was waking up every cell in her body and melting them into waves of pleasure and she needed to feel him explode inside her.
She would have been lying if she said that his wife wasn't in the back of her head, and even worse, that it turned her on even more that he was cheating. She knew she was going to hell for it, but fuck, they'd abstained for twelve years, that has to count for something, right? But somehow over the years, infidelity started to sound more and more appealing and she hated herself for it, but she had no other choice. Her brain had to rationalize her feelings somehow. Hell, what did she know… all she could comprehend at the moment was that he felt intense and amazing.
She stared into his sharp blue eyes and his concentration on her was heart-melting. Her hands slid up his sweaty back to his head and she pulled his mouth down onto hers as he continued to intimately rock into her. Then his thrusts became harder, quicker, and she was scooting backward with each hit until she had to push against the headboard to keep her head from hitting it.
She could feel him building up and she closed her eyes as her own orgasm suddenly took over her convulsing body, her throat involuntarily shouting his name in pleasure and she felt his warm fluids filling her, sending her into more and more 'yeses' and curses. She lost her breath as she rode out the orgasm and they heaved into each other when his body collapsed onto her.
Then, simultaneously, they laughed. It started as small chuckles, then quickly grew into howls as they leaned into each other, their chests rumbling, cackling until their ribs hurt. Their joy was so loud they almost missed the ringing of Olivia's cell phone.
Elliot rolled onto his side while she reached for her phone, seeing their captains name on the screen. She held a finger to her lips, telling Elliot to be quiet, then she put the phone on speaker between them as they laid facing each other.
"Benson."
"Liv, we need you and Elliot for a rape-murder in Chelsea. It's a child. She's young. This won't be an easy one."
She met Elliot's eyes, and they didn't need to talk about it, because she knew they were already on the same page. This was more important than their affair: the victims, justice, this child. The job would always come first. It had to. This night together may have been inevitable, incredible, but it wouldn't change anything. They would leave this bed and everything would go back to how it was before he walked in and pinned her to that beam.
And that was okay. She liked how things were.
His lips curved into an understanding smile, letting her know that he was reading her thoughts, and agreed with each of them.
"You'll call Elliot?" Cragen asked.
"Yeah, I'll let him know."
She hung up the phone and they laid for a few more seconds, taking in the moment with two soft smiles, a mixture of satisfaction and sadness in each. Then her smile grew a bit and she gave him a small nod.
"Let's go get the bastard."