GEMMA

by olivejuicetwo

A friendly date turns into going half on a kid.

A/N: for whip!

Olivia.

He's absolutely floored when he sees her. He'd expected of course for her to look beautiful and he expects to be attracted to her but this is a little more profound than that. He doesn't mean to be dramatic, but this shit is cataclysmic. Standing on a street corner in downtown Manhattan, his heart stops and he knows indefinitely that nothing will ever be the same.

She's never going to be just his friend again. Never. Not with this new memory, new image, new vision of her.

Wondrously, he's able to remain standing on his two feet as swarms of people walk around him, towards him, behind him. With the light change, she gets stuck on the divider in the middle of the road and they're trapped staring at each other with the zoom of cars flying between them. He sees her smile, the way she looks away, and then back again. She's flirting already from the other side of the street with just her eyes. His throat closes in, his breathing shallows out, his heart starts beating again. And if he had to put money on it, he'd swear it's butterfly wings fluttering in his belly.

He's known her far too long to be this dumbfounded.

His shoulders bounce and flatten with nervousness he doesn't quite understand. Especially because he spends so much time being with her. He'd just been with her a day ago, spent the entire week next to her. Her hair stops at her shoulders and she has it styled sleek, parted to the side, her long bang falling over her left eye. She has to know that this just isn't fair.

He braces his lips to sound off on this look that she's sporting for him, but he doesn't even have the breath for it. He doesn't know where he'd even begin.

The light finally changes again and he thanks God. Staring at her from across the street was starting to excite him far too much. Her dress is short enough that when she walks, when her legs separate and come together in long strides, he thinks he might get a glimpse of her underwear. It's so fucking sexy and pisses him off all at the same time.

Her thighs are toned and tanned and thick. The muscles in her legs flex and she's headed straight toward him. He can't help but take it all in. Her toes are out and painted red, buckled into a thinly strapped sandal that ties up her slim ankles. The heels have got to be five inches because the closer she gets he realizes that she doesn't have to look up at him.

She keeps her eyes trained on him and he drops his eyes to the dress, finally while he still can get a full view of it. It fits her body so close he has to look away to catch his breath and then she's there, stepping onto the sidewalk with him. She reaches for his cheek, pulls his face down to kiss him softly. "You smell good," she whispers, resting her hands on his chest. She's smirking seductively at him, her eyes bright and perhaps a little giddy? She's too excited about this. He's asked for role play but this feels a little too real and he's speechless. "Well shit, Stabler. You're failing this already." She smacks his chest with the back of her hand before sidestepping him and heading into the restaurant alone.

Two days ago he'd been sitting across from her watching her work diligently. He kept waiting and waiting for her to break her concentration and indulge him until finally, she spoke. "Stop looking at me."

"I need a favor."

"And what's that?" Her fingers never stopped, but she glanced up at him quickly, narrowing her eyes, before her eyes dart back on the computer screen.

He rubbed his jaw, leaned back in his seat and he'd said it. "I need you to go on a date with me."

She'd stopped typing then.

He explained quickly that it'd been months since he'd been divorced (this time) and he was eager to date finally but admitted to being a little rusty. "I just need a quick reminder on how this all goes," he'd said, grinning. "And who better to teach me?"

Her answer had been yes, but after first laying down parameters. This was a first date, she could be as honest or dishonest as she wanted to be and in the end, she'd grade him, give him tips and pointers on how to improve moving forward.

It is the expectation that she'd arrive here tonight, gorgeous as ever, but he's just not used to this view of her long legs. He's been forced to ignore her ass in jeans and slacks and maybe he's failed on a few occasions but tonight he doesn't even try. Her ass is plump and moves with the switch of her full hips under the fabric of her dress. He'd thought himself clever when he'd conned her into this date. He thought it'd be a way to get some insight into what it might be like to date her. He's never imagined he'd ever be this stunned by her appearance all these years later.

Olivia after hours is seductive. The way she moves, how she turns into him with her hand on his forearm when he meets her at the hostess desk of the restaurant. "Five minute wait," she explains in a voice that he can only assume she saves for dates like these. "Next time make a reservation," she advises.

"I didn't even think you'd agree to this."

"Please. I'm helping out a friend potentially get laid and I'm getting a free meal here."

He rolls his eyes. "When we sit down what should I say?"

"Start with how good I look," she says seriously, and then she winks at him and smirks... and who is this woman?

He's still laughing to himself as they're being escorted to their table. The waiter reaches for her chair but she bats him off and she stands there, allowing Elliot to pull her chair out. "Why thank you," she hums softly. She's really laying it on thick and he wonders how much of this she's doing to pull his leg and how much of it she really expects. He doesn't mind opening doors for her or pulling out chairs, none at all actually, but he wonders how it'll be when he has the balls to actually ask her out on a real date. Not a hypothetical one.

He feels the pressure when they're seated, but Olivia doesn't even look at him. She picks up the small leather lined drink menu, reads it over and he watches as her eyes move over the paper. The restaurant is dimly lit, a very romantic setting, only a candle lights the space between them and now that they're seated directly across from each other there is nowhere else he can train his eyes. The square neckline of her dress crosses over her breasts, pushes them together in two perfect, soft arches. His thoughts drift quickly. He wonders how her breasts would look unburdened by this insane dress she's chosen.

Her collarbones are prominent, her jaw and cheekbones are defined as she angles her eyes downward to read the menu and she bites her full bottom lip before offering it to him. "I'd usually order wine, but I need something stronger. Get me whatever you get," she says.

His eyes narrow at her, trying to gauge if this is a test. "You want a whiskey neat?"

Olivia laughs quietly behind the dinner menu, "make it a double."

They order quickly, two steaks, two salads, two whiskeys. By the time their drinks come, Olivia is looking at him across the table, her lips pursed and she waits patiently for him to steer the date. She's given him a clue and waits to see if he'll execute.

He clears his throat, motions toward her but nothing comes out of his mouth. She sees the struggle on his face, in his eyes and it just makes her laugh. "You're never having sex again," she blurts, amused.

"I just don't know where to start," he rushes out in response.

Where to start? With her looks? Her eyes widen a fraction and he knows she wasn't expecting that.

"You look..." he stops to smile, knowing she's dying to hear what a compliment from him even sounds like. He keeps it simple. "You look gorgeous tonight, Liv." Her cheeks lift instantly and redden right before his eyes. "Everything is perfect," he adds, and this time her eyes dart to the table and he gets a glimpse of her straight white teeth.

"Thank you." She takes a sip of her drink, still smiling around the cup.

"So do we pretend to not know each other?"

"Yeah, this is a first date."

"I'm Elliot, and you are?"

"If you have me on this date, you already know my name." His blue eyes widen, begging for her to take this seriously and she sighs. "Fine, my name is... Christina."

He nods, smiles at her, and continues. "So, what do you do, Christina?"

"I'm a teacher."

He chuckles at the lie. "You good with kids then?"

"Yeah, I'd say so."

"I've got five."

"So you've been busy, huh?"

They both smile at their easy banter. "I was married all of my adult life."

"No judgment here. At least we know your equipment works."

Elliot huffs a teasing laugh. "Oh, it works."

"You're disgusting," she admonishes with a chuckle, still grinning.

He gestures toward her smile. "You look like you're into it."

She shrugs in response.

"So.."

"So?"

Elliot leans onto the table, tenting his hands together. "Do you have kids? Do you want them?"

Her hands prickle with sweat so she releases her glass and shoves her hands into her lap. Is he... is he asking her? Or the Christina version of her? How awkward would that be to ask, she wonders? She swipes her lips with her tongue as she thinks of a response. It'd be easier if she didn't want to know. But she does want to know. Does Elliot want more children? Is that an option for him after having five? She keeps her voice light when she asks, "Why does that sound like an offer to me? Don't you think you're too old to be having any more kids?"

His smile grows slowly. "No. I don't."

"People don't talk about this on first dates," she says breaking character.

"On first dates with me they do," he insists. "So? Liv? You want kids?"

He is asking her.

"Yeah. I want them," she answers softly.

His head bobs as he accepts her answer. He smiles. Good to know. "What subject do you teach?"

The uncomfortable moment drifts away just like that. "English."

"Like your mother?"

Her lips twist. "You didn't know my mother, remember?"

"Sorry."

"When's the last time you spoke to Bernie?"

"Why do you get to ask me questions like you know me and I don't know you at all?"

"Because I don't need help dating," she answers easily. "Arguing with your date? Not a good look, Stabler."

He looks off unamused. "Haven't spoken to her since Kathleen's been home."

"I regret not spending more time with my mother. Regardless of any..." she pauses to sigh. "I don't want the same for you."

"Ok," he responds blandly.

She sighs, licks her lips again before she reaches out, and flicks his hand with her finger. "Ask me something else."

She's smirking again and it lightens his mood. "Tell me about your last relationship. Why did you break up? Because he was a square?"

Olivia glowers playfully. "Don't ask women about their exes on date one."

"I met the guy."

Even the memory of it makes her shudder. "I met Kurt through one of his reporters."

"Why'd you break up?"

"Seriously?"

He nods.

"He wanted more and I didn't."

"You didn't want more? Or you didn't want more with him?"

She doesn't even need to think of a response. "More with him."

He can barely contain his grin. "Well, if you care, I didn't like him for you. Felt like I could kick his ass."

"You think you can kick everybody's ass."

"Hey, I thought confidence was a good thing."

"It is. As long as you back it up."

"You want to give it a go?"

Their eyes lock and for the first time tonight, Olivia is flustered. Not just blushing, but actually aroused. She licks her lips for the fifth time in five minutes, wraps her fingers around her cup again, and before she takes a sip, she mumbles, "Next question."

"Fine," he starts. "How much money do you make?" he asks seriously.

They both laugh.

—

Dinner is comfortable and easy and they spend time laughing and clinking glasses more than once. He asks to taste her steak, though she's sure it all tastes the same. It becomes an argument until she gives in, cuts him a piece, and feeds him, her arm stretching across the table, offering her fork. He takes a bite and chews slowly. "Oh, it is the same," he mumbles.

Her eyes couldn't roll any harder, but the smile on her face never once falters. Elliot is smooth and sweet and flirtatious in a way that makes her want to forget who he is to her and why what they're doing here is so inappropriate. He's got on a blue suit and a shirt and tie that she's seen before. And though he's dressed like her partner, he looks nothing like him. He's relaxed, at ease and she's never seen his dimples this many times in one sitting.

He even drives differently off the clock. Leans into his seat more, glances at her more and she's felt his eyes all night. It's sexual, the way he looks at her. They want each other that much is evident. Whether it's Olivia and Elliot, or Christinaand Elliot, she wants to touch him, to be all over him but she knows they're not there yet. He couldn't even ask her on a date without dressing it as something else so she keeps her hands to herself and flicks through her work email absently.

"Can we stop?" he asks suddenly. There is a bakery two blocks from her apartment, one she's never even noticed, and they sit outside on tiny chairs and share a small table.

His cupcake is gone in less than a minute but she sits with her legs crossed, her purse in her lap as she peels the cupcake wrapper off. There's no way in a decade he's never seen her eat a damn cupcake.

She pulls off the butt of the cupcake, crumbs spilling onto the table, and then she places it right on top of the frosting making a little sandwich.

"The hell are you doing?"

She holds up her delicious contraption. "Cupcake sandwich. They taste better this way."

How is it that years later she still finds ways to surprise him? She smiles as she bites into the treat, licks the corner of her mouth for frosting.

"You're cute."

The blush in her cheeks is endearing, but she keeps eating until the cupcake is gone and that is probably the thing that makes him offer to walk her home. He's got a spot not too far and he'd try anything to extend this date with her. Midway there, with one block behind him, he grabs her hand in his. "I hold my date's hands," is his whispered explanation and he's shocked when she loops her fingers around his and squeezes.

The walk goes by too fast and as they stand awkwardly in front of her building, she entertains the idea of inviting him up.

"So... if this was a real date?"

Her answer comes without thought. "I'd invite you up."

"So invite me up."

Olivia pretends to think it over before answering. "You can come up but the date stops the second we're inside. I want a beer and to put on sweat pants."

Elliot laughs. "That's fine with me, Liv."

She nods, turning toward her building. He follows her closely, takes advantage of her newly imposed rule, and keeps her from opening the front door with his large hand crashing down, shutting it. It happens quickly and she's surprised at how smoothly. He spins her into him, uses the evenness in their height and his mouth touches hers in a sweet and short first kiss.

"I've gotta tell you something," he says, rubbing his lips over hers.

"What?"

"This is hardly my first date since Kath."

"What?"

"I just wanted to see what it'd be like to date Olivia Benson and—"

"I know." He pulls away to get a look at more than just her nose and shrewd eyes. "I know when you're seeing people, El."

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew," she mumbles, and then she's kissing him again. Mouth open, tongue in his mouth, one arm wrapped around his neck. He rubs her sides, downward from her waist to her hips as he chases her mouth. Laughing, she presses one last kiss on his lips before she's pulling away, going for the front door again. "Now, come on. My feet hurt, I'm cold and I cannot wait to shower."

—

By Olivia's rule, the date is over. He pulls his tie apart as his shoes fall off one by one, and a few feet away she showers behind the closed door of the bathroom. It's torturous, imagining soap and water splashing all over her naked body. He distracts himself by checking on his kids, turning the television on, looking around her apartment from the loveseat in the living room, willing himself to not snoop around and piss her off.

In all the ways he's expected this night to end, he's never expected to end it in her apartment with her.

Some time later, she returns fully dressed in cotton pants and a t-shirt with her hair up in a towel. Her face has been scrubbed clean and he guesses she hadn't been lying. Their date is really over.

"Wanna watch a movie?" she asks, walking along the couch, dragging her hand over his shoulders. She stops behind him, tosses three DVD cases into his lap. "Pick something? I don't care which." Olivia shrugs as she continues to the kitchen. She grabs two beers and sticks popcorn into the microwave.

"Dead Silence. Cloverfield. A new Halloween," he reads. "When I met you your favorite movie was Dirty Dancing. Titanic. The hell is all this?"

"Suspense movies. I like figuring it all out," she says over the popcorn popping. She returns just in time to see the opening credits begin.

She offers him the bowl of popcorn before she makes herself a little comfortable corner to settle into. Grabbing pillows and the throw on the back of the couch, two seconds later she is balled up, her body tented in soft quilted fabric. She doesn't notice he's looking at her until she takes a sip of her beer. "What?"

"You don't look anything like you did an hour ago," he answers huskily. The towel has slipped a little, reveals the edges of her dark hairline. There's trails of water coming down the sides of her face and she's wiped the shimmer from her eyelids and lips. She looks youthful, natural and so, so, "gorgeous," he whispers, boldly.

"Hey!" Her foot reaches out and she kicks his thigh. "I said the date was over."

"I'm telling you as your partner then."

She's had too many drinks to filter her words. "You wanna have sex with me? Because one more compliment..." She smirks, glances at him from the corner of her eyes. "One more compliment and I might invite you back to my bedroom."

He slouches into the couch, stuffs a handful of popcorn in his mouth, grins as he chews but says nothing else.

They watch in silence then, both chuckling at the bad acting, at the predictable plot. Two people engage in a heavy makeout and he feels Olivia nudging his thigh again. He offers her the bowl of popcorn but she only nudges him again.

"What?" he asks, chuckling. He puts the popcorn on the table, grabs her foot, looks at it, at her painted toes. She'd said her feet were hurting and he still sees the evidence of the tiny straps of the shoe and runs his hand over the reddened skin. He wants to rub them for her, but she's said the date is over, so it's over. He places it back on the couch and finally looks over at her. "What?"

She chuckles and points her beer toward him. "You're a good kisser."

"So kiss me again," slips right out of his lips with so much ease it makes her body clench.

The eye contact makes it worse so she's the first to look away.

Yes. "No."

"But you liked it?"

"I did," she answers nodding.

"So kiss me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because..." she bites her bottom lip, narrows her eyes and focuses them on the television. She's spent the night teasing him about how bad he is at dating when in all reality she's pretty shitty at it, too. She's been on dates, but hasn't made it past the second one in some time, and though her ex Kurt wasn't the last man she had sex with, he might as well had been. "It's been a while and I'm a little drunk and I... won't want to stop there."

Unlike her, his eyes are glued to her profile. "Would that be a bad thing?" he whispers.

"So say we have sex?" Her head tilts, like she's picturing it. "Then what?"

"Well, I usually fall asleep after," Elliot answers, amused. "Or eat."

"No, I mean after. Are we cool after? Cause as I said, it's been a while and I wouldn't mind—" she shrugs. Her foot nudges him once more. "Exploring. That. With you."

"What?"

"But I have to know you can handle that?"

"I can," he insists gruffly. "Olivia, if you're asking me if I'd like to have sex with you, the answer is yes."

Olivia's up, the throw falls to her feet, her beer bottle hits the coffee table. "Come on then." He thinks it's a joke at first, looks around the room. "What's your favorite position?" she asks, but she's almost gone completely so he's scrambling to his feet to follow her into her bedroom.

"That a trick question?" There's a lamp lit in the corner of her room, her bed is made, everything neat and tidy. There are candles everywhere, all unlit, but they make her bedroom smell like fresh linen.

"No, actually. I want to know so that when we do this, it's at least good."

"Well, what's yours?"

She pulls her shirt off and tosses it to the floor, her back to him. It feels like they're in the locker room after a workout. He's seen her in her bra before so nothing about this feels strange at all. She slides her pants over her hips, revealing a simple black thong. She's angled to the side and the slope of her ass makes him ache. She throws the towel to the floor and his hands move with lightning speed.

"From the back," she answers finally. When she looks up he's standing there naked with his hands cupping his around his obvious erection. "Gets me every time," she whispers, trying not to look at his hands.

"Every time?"

"If you're doing it right." She fits her hands on her hips, standing comfortably in front of him in her underwear. "So don't fuck it up."

"Why is it taking you so long to get undressed?"

Olivia smirks, slipping her hands behind her back and unfastening her bra. A slow smile creeps onto his face as the bra falls off her shoulders. Her breasts are perky and her nipples are just a shade darker than her tan skin and he knows from where he's standing that they'll hold the perfect weight in his hands. She doesn't need to ask, she knows by his reddened cheeks and wide grin the answer to her question. "Happy?"

"Yup."

Olivia motions to his crotch. "Move your hands." Her eyes drop from his face to his bare chest that she's seen dozens of times. He has dark hair over his sternum down his belly disappearing under his hands. His broad chest narrows down into slim hips and her eyes follow the perfect lines of his abs, of the v cut into his groin.

Olivia clears her throat. He still hasn't moved his hands. Olivia lifts her eyes to his and they're already here now. They've already gone on this amazing date, already admitted that this is something they both wanted to happen. "Don't be shy now," she taunts.

Her eyes flit between his before dropping to his toothy grin. His stance shifts as his muscular arms swing around his body and locking behind his back. His eyebrow lifts and he silently dares her to look down.

Olivia pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and it's a slow crawl. From his handsome face with the boyish grin to his thick neck. The muscles in his shoulders jump and flex, the veins protrude everywhere— everywhere.

"Happy?" He parrots her word back to her.

His erection sways between them and she can't look away. "More than," she whispers. It takes all of the restraint she can muster but she lifts her eyes to his once more. "Are we about to fuck up a good thing?" she blurts. She covers her breasts, cupping them both in her hands and he's wildly distracted by the sight. "The date. The laughing, the drinking. You've been flirting with me all night. I don't know if I'm thinking clearly. And I understand that it's weird to bring this up when we're both naked. I'm horny and I don't know if I can be trusted..."

Her rambling stops when Elliot grabs a throw pillow off of her bed, holding it over his crotch so that when he closes the space between them he isn't impaling her with his hard on. Her eyes slip closed when his scent infiltrates her nose and the next thing she feels is his fingers in her hair, pushing her bangs out of her face. "Look at me," he whispers. His right hand tangles at the nape of her head and he waits for her eyes to flutter open before he speaks. She looks so small now. With wavy damp hair, on her bare feet, worry and intrigue mixed in her eyes. "If you don't want—"

"No, I do," she insists hoarsely. She wants this... has wanted this. If asked, she probably couldn't articulate it for him, beyond admitting she's always been curious. She probably won't have any deeply romantic words for him, but she knows in her heart that whatever they're about to do changes them. She's entertained this the first time he was separated, fantasized about what he'd be like, how he'd kiss, make love and she regretted never acting on it the split second after he'd revealed Kathy was pregnant again.

And now that they're so close to finally, finally having this happen, she won't let the moment slip away again.

Olivia drops her hands then, lifts her chin and she stares directly into his eyes. "I want to." And then she's tugging the pillow out of his hands and tossing it onto the middle of her bed. She reaches for his shoulders. It feels like the safest place to touch first, but they're smooth and firm underneath her palms and it's not safe at all. It just makes her want to reach for more skin. Her hands clutch at his neck and she pulls him in close, trapping his stiff erection between them.

Maybe the sexual tension between them settles itself because when she kisses him, it's not frantic or hurried or rushed. It's a slow kiss. A peck turns into one that lingers. Their lips touch and then they touch again. They're looking at each other through heavy-lidded eyes that don't close all the way, taking in this moment, taking in each other at such close proximity.

It takes a slight tilt of her head, the widening of his mouth, and her seeking tongue to begin the shift. Her soft hands leave his shoulders and cuff around his arms, grasping at the solid muscles, pulling his arms around her.

His hands get lost on the satin of her back and the silk of her hair. Her kiss is lively and seductive and she molds her body to his. The hand on her back drops lower, covering flesh, cupping her ass. They separate, panting, only the tips of their noses touching.

"You good?" he asks.

She smiles. "Yeah."

"Turn around."

She swivels in his arms and they tighten around her waist, pulling her closer to him. His mouth attaches itself to the back of her neck and both of his hands fondle her breasts, teasing her nipples.

"These are my favorite," he grumbles against the skin of her neck and she laughs.

"Don't decide so quickly," she whispers back playfully. She grabs his right hand from her breast and positions it between her legs.

"Mm," he moans in her ear as his hand dips further, feeling dampness there. "Bend over." His command comes out in a whisper, prompting her to bend at the waist, resting her elbows on the mattress. Blunt nails scrape over her ass, as he pulls her thong down her thighs, past her knees until it falls to the floor. He can't stop his needy hands from touching her. They slide up and down her back, deepening her arch, lifting her ass for him. He tests her, thrusting his hips, allowing the throbbing tip of his erection to brush against her heat but not entering. She feels feverish and the thin moisture leaking over her is the most enticing thing he thinks he's ever felt.

"Put it in," she purrs against her own forearm. All this anticipation is going to kill her.

He backs away and she listens to the sound of a condom wrapper being torn.

He wraps his hand around his shaft and he directs the tip of his dick over her again, spreading her arousal. Her spine flexes under his hands and she moans for him. His first attempt at entering her is futile. He barely fits at all and even with the struggle she pushes back on him eagerly. "Damn, Liv."

"What?"

"When's the last time you had sex?" She turns to glare at him over her shoulder. "What? It's not gonna fit."

"Make it fit."

He laughs at that as he sinks down to one knee behind her and he pulls her over his face. She gasps, surprised. He tongues her clitoris before he's stuffing it inside of her, pulling her hips back, allowing her to fuck his face. She whines and moans and he keeps up until he's satisfied that she's wet enough.

He stands and she hikes one knee up onto the mattress.

"Try like this," she prompts.

"Jesus Liv," he whispers at the sight of her bent over before him. He can't resist running his hands down her spine and over her rib cage on each side. Then his hands are on her hip bones and he surges forward, slowly, landing precisely at her opening. Her foot up like this doesn't make it easier to enter her. In fact, she's just as tight but his saliva has provided even more slip. He enters her carefully, slowly. Pushing inside of her little at a time and he'd like to say it's just for her benefit, but it isn't. She's compacted so close around his dick, so smooth, so wet, he almost comes right there.

He doesn't expect it. For her to retreat, leaving him almost all the way and then throwing her hips back, taking him in again. She takes in a deep breath, gasping when she retreats again, and groans when he's deep inside of her. He allows her to do this for a bit, allows her to get used to the intrusion of him before he grabs her hips.

"You good?"

"I can take it."

He bends forward, pushing her further into the mattress, testing how much of his weight she can hold before he starts driving into her. "You can take it?" he asks, taunting her, pulling his lips into his mouth, thinning them out as he fucks her.

"Mm-hmm." She nods. She's never sounded sexier, having him so deep inside of her really takes the base out of her voice.

His hips pump and thrust, filling her over and over. It's her favorite position for a reason. He fucks high into her, hitting the spot that makes her go mindless, brainless. "Oh," she moans quietly. "Stay. Right. There." She turns to look over her shoulder and his eyes lift to hers. He looks right into her glassy eyes, one deeply intimate look, and her vagina grips around him, squeezing him, pulsing around him until he is unable to hold on any longer. "Yes, El." He erupts inside of her with a deep, shuddering growl.

Her body remains on a high, settling slowly. "Really needed that," she whispers. She picks her head up, shoots him an amused look. "You did good."

That makes him grin, even with his heaving chest and the sweat on his forehead. "You did great." His big fists are planted into the mattress still, his body hovering hers.

"I didn't do anything."

"Well," he blows out a tired breath, "you took it like a champ."

Olivia picks her head up again to arch an eyebrow at him. "You shit talking?"

"No," he says seriously before his face breaks out into a boyish grin. "I honestly didn't think it'd fit and then it did. And you took it. And you fucked me back."

"I did, didn't I?"

Look at us, she thinks. Complimenting each other on sex. She's finally fucked her partner and the earth continues turning on its axis and maybe this will be easy.

"Hey, woman," she hears him say. He's sitting now, right next her, pulling off the condom, she assumes. "Make me a sandwich."

Maybe it won't be easy at all.

"I am not making you a goddamn sandwich."

Elliot laughs. "I probably should've known that wouldn't work with you." He's up, walking out of her bedroom, his ass bare.

"Nice ass," she calls out after him, making him laugh.

When he comes back he walks straight back toward the bed. His dick is still partially hard, wagging between them. He has no shame, doesn't try to hide at all.

"I have a nice ass? You've seen yours, right?"

"Are we going to do it again? Tell me now before I fall asleep."

"Not if you don't feed me."

"You know where the kitchen is," Olivia murmurs.

"Get up and pee."

"In a minute. I'm just going to close my eyes for a bit. Call me when you've made us a meal."

She drifts off right there, not even listening for a response.

—

Olivia wakes to Elliot's hand wrapped around her thigh. "Wake up," he grumbles, squeezing and shaking gently. "Shit, Liv. Your ass—"

She turns to squint up at him and he's standing there, eyes on her naked body, tongue swiping over his lips. She'd fallen asleep on her belly, legs spread unintentionally.

He puts the plate he's holding on the end table, pulls it open and smiles when he finds her small stash of condoms. Olivia turns on her side, threading her fingers through her hair as she watches him remove his underwear again.

"You ready for me again?" he asks covering himself in latex, his knee sinking into the mattress. He straddles her thighs, swiping his dick over her center. "Tell me, Liv."

"Yes." She nods her head though her body is screaming no. She hasn't had great sex in a while so now she's greedy and won't pass it up, not when he's the one offering it.

She's just as snug as before, swollen even, so she feels every bit of him as he stretches her.

"Still so tight," he whispers when he finally manages to slide all the way inside. He knows without her having to say it, how sensitive she must be to this intrusion again so soon. Despite her reaching for him and moaning softly, "I'll go slow," he promises, drawing his hips away slowly.

"El, oh my God," she hisses breathlessly when she feels the splash of his spit further moistening her, making it just a little bit easier to ease in and out of her. His thrust is equally slow and he peppers kisses on her shoulders.

"You've got it," he murmurs encouragingly bending over, covering her arms with his. He bends forward and kisses the corner of her mouth. "You okay?"

"Yes."

His lips rest on her shoulder and his eyes remain on her face as his hips thrust forward. She moans but turns her head into her pillow to mask it. He's deep inside of her, moving so painfully slow, kissing her skin, breathing on her.

She doesn't know if it's because she'd been half asleep when this began, but this isn't the same as earlier. He isn't humping her wildly as he had just before. His hips swing deep and this time he's on his elbow and he's got his face lined with hers. "Better?"

"Kiss me."

Their tongues meet first in a sensual kiss that matches the thrust of his hips. She uses the kiss to distract him, takes the time to get used to him again before she's meeting him again, throwing her hips back for him because now she knows he likes it. She clenches her inner walls around him and it's so stifling he has to stop fucking her just for a second.

"Jesus," he whispers. "Do that again and I'm going to come."

"That's exactly what I want," she whispers back wiggling her hips. "C'mon, El."

His lips ghost her shoulders, his forehead rests in the dip between them. "You first," he tells her, his breath heating her chilled skin. He thrusts and he works until he finds that spot again. The spot that makes her entire body relax just before she comes.

It's just the second time and they've already got this mastered. Her body grips and grips at him and when he comes, he whispers her name. "Olivia."