(Setting: 2021, post s22/s1, Romance, very M)
. . .
Claimed
The man standing before me has always presented a dominant energy, and the way his eyes are currently boring into mine is exuding that very dominance. He's always been possessive, even when he shouldn't be. Especially when he shouldn't be. I understand it's not always purposeful — he tends to claim territory of me, despite me never being his. I should be bothered by this, but I can't bring myself to feel annoyed.
Not when those sapphires are smoldering with deep desire towards me. The ice has eradicated itself from his eyes - replaced with a near charcoal - and it instead shivers down my own spine. We still haven't exchanged any words since he showed up at my doorstep a couple minutes ago. I had barely opened my door, and he practically barged inside with such an intense aura I could choke on it.
I assumed once he was inside, his jaw would soften and his eyes would lighten but quite the opposite. His urgency hasn't settled, and he still hasn't spoken. I drink his entire form in: his tight lips, his tense stance, his fists balled up. When my eyes unintentionally linger there, I notice his thumb run along the knuckle of his index finger. I can predict his next move, and I glance back up with my lower lip clenched between my teeth.
Ever since he waltzed back into my life, his hands haven't faltered in finding their place on my body. The first time we touched in a decade was of my doing — I collided with him in the defense of a suspect. Because of my status, I was forced to remain authoritative towards him. My voice carried its strength, but my body was ready to collapse at the way he gripped my arms with such an intensity.
Even after the goddamn funeral, he wrapped his hand under my arm and tugged me towards him— I imagine to convince himself that I was actually there. Though, I had to do the same thing when we were bickering on the rooftop. Despite just having both of his hands grasping my biceps, and mine clenching onto his shirt, I still needed to assure myself he existed. So, I crashed into him, and I still haven't recovered.
Any time his hands found their way to my arms, my mind was transported to a case twelve years ago, when I went to check on him during an undercover operation. As soon as he swung that door open, he seized my upper arm and nearly threw me inside. I was taken aback by both his force and his lack of attire. My eyes were unapologetic the way they roamed over his entire body. Then to have my arms wrapped around his neck and the lace of my bra scraping his chest, a closeted desire sprung free from the depths I buried it to.
As I watch him intently, I have to wonder if that desire will finally be indulged all these years later. My line of sight falls back to his now-open hands, one palm twitching. He's like a lion ready to pounce, and I allow it when he does launch himself at me, curling his hands around my arms just below my shoulders. And before I could even blink, I'm trapped against the wall, staring up at him with my mouth agape. His fingertips dig into my skin as he lowers his face down to mine. I can't help but hold my breath.
"Tell me you need this too," he rasps. I gasp at his forwardness, and the gravel in his voice causes heat to rush to my cheeks and between my legs. His hands graze down my arms and capture my wrists, suddenly locking them above my head. He's so close that I can feel his breath on my face, and my mouth can't form any words. I tilt my head to the side, hoping that my exposed neck is enough of an answer for him. He accepts my invite, dropping his head down to nip and suck on the delicate flesh. I release a soft whimper, and as I do, he tightens the grip on my wrists. His lips trail up to my ear. "Tell me," he demands.
"I have always," I breathe, "needed this." I struggle against the restraints of his hands, but I eventually manage to twist my hands free. In doing so, I latch onto his wrists and whip us around to shove him against the wall, taking my place. I surprise myself at my own forwardness, but if he's taking the leap, I'm right there with him. I've been waiting too long to lose this opportunity to the thoughts attempting to convince me this is wrong. Allowing his hands to drop, I shove the jacket from his shoulders and work at the buttons of his shirt. Once he discards that, I wrap my arms around his neck and lean in, whispering, "I've always needed you."
He groans at the seduction rolling off my tongue. The expression on his face is devious as he tugs at my arms to retract slightly. "You're overdressed." He lifts the hem of my shirt and pulls it off, tracing his fingertips down my bare arms, then over the curves of my waist and hips. I appreciate his sudden tenderness, but I need that saved for another night.
"Don't get soft on me now, Stabler," I taunt with a smirk.
"Just enjoying the view, Benson," he retorts, drawing my body against his. His arms snake up my back to unclasp my bra, and he leans down to torment me. "Don't think I'm not about to fuck you senseless."
He tears the bra away from my body, and I watch as his eyes roam all over me. With the last men I've been with, I wanted to hide my new scars. I was always torn between keeping the lights on so my brain recognized my surroundings, and turning them off to feel less self-conscious.
But with Elliot, I don't feel exposed. He too, has new scars on his body. All I see is proof that he is a fighter, and every battle he won led him back to this moment. Back to me. His thumb traces over a mark on my abdomen, and I can see in his eyes that he isn't pitying me. He's proud of me. Just like him, I made it out every time.
Digging his fingers into my hips, he twists us around once more so I am again caged against the wall. His hands slide over my ass to lift me up, and I instinctually wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. I whine at the sensation of my nipples pressing against his chest.
"You're mine," he growls, finally claiming my lips with his own in such a raw urgency. It's animalistic, the way his teeth gnash against mine and tug at my bottom lip. I've never shared a kiss this ferocious with anyone else. Then again, I haven't waited nearly half of my life for anyone else but him.
He pulls apart enough for me to mumble yours against his lips. One word I had been craving to say to him for two decades. He places a hot trail of kisses down my neck which evokes a light moan from me. "El, please," I beg.
As soon as the pleading fell out of my mouth, he began to hurriedly carry me towards my bedroom, strategically avoiding the furniture and managing to remove his shoes somewhere in the process.
He carefully lays me down on my bed. As I adjust myself to my elbows, I watch with fervent eyes as he kicks off his pants, revealing the defined outline of his erection behind just a thin layer of cotton. Absentmindedly, I lick my lips in anticipation. And in a flash, he's hovering over me, devouring my lips as one of his hands works to undo my jeans. He swiftly yanks them down and tosses them aside to join the rest of the discarded clothes now scattered throughout my home.
He starts to climb over top of me again, but I stop him and instead sit up with him. I want to do the honors of slipping my hands around his waistband and removing the last piece of clothing from his body. I'm watching his face with meek eyes as I slide his underwear down, springing his erection free. "Fuck, Liv," he groans as I wrap my hand around his shaft, slowly pumping my hand up and down to familiarize myself with this intimate part of him. I have a lot of time to make up for, and still, I intend to memorize him thoroughly, every vein, every movement that makes him twitch and curse under his breath, how it feels when he hardens even more within my grasp.
I too, am claiming him as mine.
To halt my actions, his hands find my arms once again to push me back down to the mattress. He must see the glimmer in my eyes as he towers over me, slowly running his thumb over my lips, then tracing his hand down my neck and collarbone. He cups one of my breasts, kneading it and swiping the pad of his thumb across my perked nipple. My back arches, pushing myself up into his palm as he pinches and tugs on the bud. "Mmm," I whine when he repeats the same stimulation on the other one.
"You're beautiful, Olivia," he says earnestly, dragging my underwear down my legs. So are you. Somehow, he is more buff now than when I knew him before. Every inch of him is handcrafted flawlessly - the planes of his chest, his chiseled abs, muscular arms and legs. And his cock, even more perfect than I so shamelessly imagined far too many times over the years. Maybe someday, I'll indulge him of my sinful fantasies...that I'd cry out his name to an empty bedroom, convulsing around my own fingers even years after he was gone; that I'd imagine I was riding him instead of any other man in my bed, even the men I claimed to love.
But I always knew no other man's touch could ever leave behind the fire trail that Elliot is currently searing onto my skin.
His fingers descend between my thighs, and he coats them with my arousal. I lift my head up with my mouth ajar to watch him insert one of them inside of me. He slides it in and out a few times before adding a second. He curls them within me which evokes a quick, breathy moan from my throat, and I let my head fall back to my pillow. "So, you said something about fucking me senseless?" I tease, and his lips twitch.
"I'm just getting you ready for me," he seduces, surprising me with a few rapid, deep thrusts of his fingers, and I cry out and buck my hips in response. "That's my girl," he smirks. His fingers slip out and rub a few soft circles on my clit. I lose his touch momentarily as he stands from the bed, but within seconds he has his arms curled under my knees so he can pull my body to the edge.
The head of his cock becomes soaked from my wetness as he glides through my folds, teasing my entrance. "You know, El - ah!" I gasp as he pushes just the tip inside. "I am going to curse your name for making me wait so long for this." He pulls it out and taps the head on my clit a couple times making my body jolt.
"I hope you'll be cursing my name for more reasons." He enters me again, this time pushing all the way in. We groan in unison as my walls clamp down on him, working to accommodate his size. He gives me a moment to adjust before pulling back and slowly pushing into me again. "Good?" he asks, to which I exhale a yes. Gripping my thighs to keep my body from shifting away from the edge, he slides out and thrusts back inside with more force this time. He continues this, gradually increasing his speed.
Of all the times I pictured this moment, countless orgasms from envisioning him fucking me like this, I truly never expected the real thing. I'm having sex with Elliot. My head is spinning trying to process that this is actually happening. He leans over me, breathing heavily. "You're thinking," he states, intrigued.
"No, just that I never- fuuuck," I whine when his thumb presses into my clit. He swirls around a few times, making me forget entirely what I am saying. His hands trail down to my calves, and he encourages me to wrap my legs around him. I do, and his hands land on my hips. Lifting my lower half slightly off the bed, he starts pounding me ruthlessly. God, this is what I needed. A delicious mixture of pleasure and pain, radiating out to my thighs and core. My bedroom is echoing with the chorus of our moans and the sound of his skin slapping against mine. I feel my toes involuntarily curling as my heels dig into his lower back. Sweet release is unveiling itself as near.
But I'm not done with him yet.
Using strength from my abdomen, I pull myself up so I'm face-to-face with him (much to his surprise) and wrap my arms around his neck. The same position from earlier, with the exception of his cock now being buried inside of me. "Hi," I breathe against his lips before biting down on the bottom one, and I feel a rumble in his chest against my torso.
There's something incredibly erotic about staring directly into his eyes as he lifts me up slightly, so I can sink back onto him. My nails claw at the back of his neck, and I drop my forehead to his while he continues this torturous rhythm. "Ellll...fuck," I moan against his lips before he captures mine with a slow, sensual kiss. I break away and drag my lips across his cheek, whispering deviously in his ear, "Get in bed. I want to ride you." He doesn't hesitate.
Once I'm positioned atop him, I take advantage of my newfound control by holding tight on his biceps and grinding along his shaft to stimulate my clit. "God, you're fucking sexy." My hands slip down to his forearms, onto his stomach, and I graze my nails up his chest. His arm reaches up and grips my jaw. "I need to be inside of you, Liv."
"I like that you're the one begging now," I purr. His hand tightens, and he pulls my face down to his. He holds me like this for a few beats, enchanting me with his piercing eyes. His hand shifts to the back of my neck, and he crashes his lips to mine - consuming every breath, every moan that I release. The way he kisses me is merciless, and I know I'm ruined for anyone else. I am undeniably his.
When he gives me a chance to catch my breath, I straighten myself back up and sink down on his cock, at last. I waste no time rocking back and forth, swiveling my hips to hit all the right spots. He runs his hands up my sides and grabs both of my breasts, flicking and circling his thumbs over my nipples, and I throw my head back in pure ecstasy. The sensation of his hands is going to be forever burned upon my skin. They trail down my stomach, and his fingers curl around my waist. "You feel so good, Liv," he rasps, driving up into me in rhythm with my hips.
That delicious warmth is creeping up again, and now I am desperate for that release. I lean down, so I can lay my upper body against his. Intimacy has never been that crucial for me during sex, but I guess he brings out the sentimentality in me. His arms wrap snugly around my back to hold me to him. His lips are so enticing, but I am breathing so heavily that I just lightly drag mine against them. As he continues to thrust into me, I feel my walls clench around him, dancing on the brink of climax.
"You know, El," I pant against his cheek. "I have always - aah! - always... been yours." I feel his lips turn upward into a quick smile.
My thighs are tightening with a blissful tingling between them. One of his hands tangles into my hair, and he tugs up for me to lift my head and gaze into his eyes. "You gonna cum?" he asks gruffly, and I drop my forehead to his.
"Mmhm," I whine, furrowing my brows and biting down on my lip.
"Cum with me, Liv," he grunts, pounding into me furiously, yet holding my body with such tenderness. His cock pulsates deep inside of me as his orgasm washes over, and I cry out his name as that sends me over the edge. My body is shuddering violently in his arms as immense pleasure courses through me, and I can't stop the incoherent noises that keep rippling from my throat. "Yes, baby," he encourages in my ear as I ride out my euphoria.
Just as I start to come down from my high, I feel his cock twitch once more, sending me into an aftershock. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I mumble, burying my face into his neck as another tremor surges through me, and I convulse around him in waves. One of his hands travels up and down my back while I start to regain control of my own movements again. I find the strength to lift my head back up. We're both working to steady our breathing, but I still capture his lips in a passionate kiss. He brushes hair away from my eyes when I pull back to take a deep breath.
"Always been mine?" he asks, with a delicate smile.
"I could never admit it, but you made your claim on me years ago, El." I pause to peck his lips gently. "A part of me was always holding back, hanging on to some sliver of hope that we could end up here."
"Look who's getting soft on me now," he teases.
"Maybe," I smirk. "But I'm still cursing your name."