A/N: if you've read anything I've ever written, then you knew there was going to be a second chapter of this.
Long Island City is the perfect place to live for a Manhattan cop. Away from the bustle of Manhattan but near enough that he's able to jump right in when needed. He lives on the 8th floor of a fairly new high rise and he warns her the entire way up that his apartment is bare and he's still unpacking.
"Are you sure you want me here?" She asks him as she follows him down the long hallway to his apartment.
"Why would you ask me that?" He turns to look at her. "Of course."
"I'm sorry I kissed you."
"Don't be."
"You were quiet on our way over here. And now you can't stop talking about what your apartment looks like and you know I don't care."
"I was just thinking in the car. That's all. I'm happy to be here with you."
"Good. Me, too."
He opens the door for her and allows her to walk in front of him. "Go ahead, Liv. Tell me what's missing." He hangs his jacket and they both remove their shoes.
"Nothing. It's perfect."
"You're lying."
"Let me borrow a credit card. It needs a woman's touch is all. You think you can take care of a plant? I'll buy you a plant. You need some life in here."
"I'm going to kill it. Don't waste your money."
"Well, that's sad."
"I'm sad," he argues back and they both chuckle. "Let me show you everything." He takes her on a tour, but it's short. It's a small two bedroom apartment in a luxury building that has many amenities like a gym and roof access. The appliances are new, the floors are shiny and she's a little jealous of his view. He has the groundwork to turn this place into a home and that makes her happy.
His bed is unmade when she peers into his room and he allows her to look freely, following her as she does. When she's opened the last door and they're standing in the hallway together, she notices that he's staring at her like if he looks away, she'll disappear.
"What is it?"
"Seeing you here is weird." He motions around them. "I'm here. In New York. With you." He doesn't even need to say anymore after that. She gets it.
"Come on," Olivia says suddenly, fitting a brand new spliff between her lips. She'd slipped the tin box into her back pocket back at the park just for this moment. She heads toward the bathroom and Elliot grunts behind her.
"Liv, no."
"It's just the bathroom. We'll hotbox and then open a window."
"Liv."
"El, you need this." By the time they'd been leaving the park, he'd been grinning and totally relaxed and he deserves to live outside of his head a little longer. And so does she.
She doesn't listen to his apprehensive voice and she keeps walking and he's forced to follow. When they were still at the park, Elliot tapped out and she felt his judging eyes as she continued smoking without him. This time, she decides, especially since his mood has shifted so drastically, she won't let him tap out.
She is lighting the spliff before he has the door closed behind him. She takes a long drag and she holds it in her lungs, her lips forming a smirk, her eyebrow quirking at him. He laughs because he's sober now and he can't believe that he's smoking weed with Olivia fucking Benson for the second time in one night. He watches the puff of air leave her mouth and just like that he sees her melt into a deeper level of relaxation. She's right, he supposes. He needs this. And there's something incredibly sexual behind the way she tilts her head back and blows smoke toward the ceiling. His eyes follow the line of her jaw, down the satiny skin of her throat, and down the front of her shirt. He'd be a fool to let her do this alone. He walks deeper into the bathroom with his hand held out.
"Puff, puff, pass," he recites, smirking. She laughs at how much of a geek he is proving to be but says nothing because he's smoking willingly now.
She removes the bar soap from a soap dish and she offers it to him and he uses it to ash. "Welcome to the dark side, Stabler," Olivia teases.
He laughs. "Liv, as much as you tease me, you live a very proper life."
"Proper?" she asks. "You don't know everything about me anymore."
"Let's fix that."
"We don't have enough time."
"Thought you said Noah was at a sleepover."
"He is." He passes her the spliff and she eyes him as she pulls. "All night wouldn't be enough time."
"Well… you still follow all the rules. I know that."
"When I need to," she responds.
"When you need to," he repeats with a smile. He'd always been the type of man who was quick to anger. He's always been the type who needed little provocation and age has settled that a bit. The weed, however, has settled it completely. He feels his shoulders slouch, his eyes go heavy, his breathing get deeper. "When is the last time you broke a rule, Benson?"
"Tonight. Being here. Smoking. All dangerous territory."
"Dangerous how?"
Big brown eyes flash at him through the clouds of smoke. "You don't feel the danger between us?"
"I feel fine," he lies, smiling. Smoke filters out of his nostrils and he passes to her.
"Surprising," she mumbles softly. She hasn't felt this light in years and she can tell by his silly little grin the same can be said for him. She sucks in smoke and before he can retreat back to the other side of the bathroom, her hand is on his wrist. He turns into her and her hand cups his jaw and she lines their lips up. He thinks she's going in for a kiss and instead, she blows a giant puff of smoke through his open lips.
His eyes are on hers and she's already so close and the glorious feeling of fuck it settles over him and before she's even done exhaling, his lips attach to hers.
Open mouths and tongues meet and her ass is on the bathroom counter as his body surges forward. She feels her mouth moving against his out of pure instinct. No second guessing or retreating, just a kiss that couldn't be more perfect. She wraps her arms around the back of his head so that when she breaks the kiss, she doesn't go far.
She smirks. "Am I dangerous now?"
Elliot laughs and he burrows his nose into her neck, taking in her scent and the feel of her soft skin at the same time. "Yes."
She's pinching the joint now between her fingers and she smokes over his shoulder. His lips are on her chest, just below her clavicle and he could kiss her, but he's holding on to some decency. He could jerk his hips forward and his erection would be right against her center, but he can't do that. He breathes.
Olivia takes one last pull and she picks up his face to blow a stream of smoke into his mouth. He inhales, smiles and he only releases the smoke when their mouths are melded together again. Who knew smoking weed and making out could be a thing?
She drops the roach into the soap dish blindly and then she's pulling on him, pulling him closer so that he doesn't have to thrust to settle against her heat. It catches him off guard and he knocks over the soap dish into the sink and the air freshener falls onto the ground and they're laughing into each other's mouths.
He backs away from her, resting his back against the opposite wall.
"Whoa," he whispers.
"Whoa," she mocks grinning. "Open the window. It's hot in here."
—
"The coolest room in the apartment?"
"The bedroom."
Olivia follows him into his bedroom and she climbs into the chair that's right next to his bed. She fold her legs beneath her. His eyes are on her hands as they slide up and down her thighs a few times before she fits them between the warmth there. "What?"
"You keep touching yourself."
"Feels good." Her hands lift to her own shoulders, massaging both of them at the same time before she breaks into a yawn, and then an extended stretch. Her breasts rise and her hair falls back and he has to force his eyes away from the curves of her body.
"Tired?" he asks.
"A bit." She dips her hands into her hair, giving her scalp a scratching, humming softly.
"You know what might feel better?" Elliot asks.
"Hmm?" she moans.
"It'll probably feel better if someone else gave you a massage."
She opens her eyes and she lifts an eyebrow at him.
"You offering?"
Elliot sits up and he reaches for her feet.
"You're serious?" she whispers and he nods. "Let's switch then," she says standing. She pulls him to a standing position and they do a quick little dance as they trade sides. He sits in the chair and she slides onto his bed. It's unmade and it smells like him.
"You need a pillow?" She wants to say no but he's already offering it to her. She places the pillow underneath her head and then she's surrounded by him. By his rich cologne and whatever else he uses. She's thinking about how she hopes his scent sticks to her when he's pulling her feet into his lap. He leans back in the chair, lifting his own feet onto the mattress. She's wearing thin white socks and he rubs her over them. His hands are so strong. It's been so long since she's had a proper massage and she whimpers softly.
Something happens when he touches her bare skin. He's able to fit his fingertips just under the hem of her jeans at the ankles and her eyes pop open. His touch is lasting, scorching. He goes as high as he can, before he's rubbing her legs over her jeans. He squeezes from her calves down to her achilles and then he strokes deliberate circles upward. His hands drag along her outer thighs, his thumbs still working in tandem. She gasps but keeps her moans at bay. Then he's working his hands underneath her, his fingertips finding her lower back and massaging there. His fingers reach higher, upward to her waist and then they firmly drag down and along the curve of her hips. Her bottom jaw slackens… so he does it again. "Should I go higher?"
"Yes."
He hikes one knee onto the bed so his reach is further. His fingertips graze her bra strap before he pulls down once more. This time she moans and it's piercing and it's enough to jar her eyes open.
She stares up at him with wide eyes and instead of being embarrassed, she laughs. "This a secret talent of yours?"
He laughs right along with her but he doesn't respond. She's serious, however. She lifts up on her elbows and she motions around the room with her hands. "You have oil?"
Well.
"Uh, um," he sputters. "Yeah. I'm sure I do."
"Get it."
She chuckles to herself as he thinks about it. His eyes lift to the ceiling, his eyebrows scrunch, he bites down on his upper lip. He's asking himself if this is real. If this moment is really happening.
"Get the oil," she says, smirking up at him. When he's out of the room, she slides off of the bed and she stands there. How's this going to go? By some miracle, the man has a full body mirror so she gives herself a once over before pulling her shirt off. Her bra is navy and lacy and her breasts are bunched into soft rounded mountains of flesh. Her jeans are high waisted and she turns around to admire her own ass in the mirror. It cuffs just over her thighs and not even to be cocky about it, she knows he's going to just die when he sees her.
—
He has oil.
He knows he has oil.
Where is the fucking oil?
He puts extra effort into opening his eyes, widening them so that he can see under the bathroom sink. It takes him three times to open the medicine cabinet to find the face and body oil one of his girls had stocked the bathroom with. When he closes the medicine cabinet he looks at his reflection and then he laughs. "You're stoned," he mutters at himself.
He takes the quick walk down the hall to his bedroom and in the back of his mind he's happy that he isn't sober. He'd probably over think this. He probably wouldn't even have the balls to return to the room and Jesus Christ, he's happy that isn't his reality when he steps back into his bedroom. She's turned the lights off and she lit the one candle he owns.
The candlelight is gentle across her back. She turns to peek over her shoulder at him and then her hands are unfastening her own bra. Her jeans are so tight over her ass and it's perfect. She's perfect.
"Are you going to make me wait all night?"
He opens his mouth to respond but can't.
The back of her is just as giving as her front and his eyes and his feet won't budge. He's stuck. Her highlighted hair falls to the middle of her back, right between her shoulder blades. With the deep slope of her arch and the two dimples on her lower back, she looks delectable.
He has to force himself to move across the room. His knees sink into the mattress on either side of her thighs and then he's squirting oil his hands and rubbing them together. The calluses on his hands lightly scratch at her back in the most satisfying way. His hands fall into the natural curve, across her shoulders and then down again. He spreads his fingertips as he drags them down and she shivers under his touch. Her hands are resting under her cheek and the flesh of her side boobs become incredibly distracting. His fingers lightly brush against their softness and he doesn't know if it's an accident or if he's lucky.
He doesn't notice it at first. That her ass lifts a little higher when his focus shifts to her shoulders. He can see that she's smiling, that her eyes are closed as he works over the knots. And then his eyes are back on the dip of her spine and the curve of her ass. If they were naked, he'd be inside of her. He'd be bracing himself on her shoulders as he pressed deep inside of her. He doesn't need to feel it to know she'll feel good. She's already so sexy just lying there on her stomach and he just knows.
Sitting back on his heels again, he gets the perfect view. It's only because he's sat back like this does he see her deliberately wiggle her ass right over his crotch. He smirks and wraps his hands around both of her hips and he presses forward
This time, they both moan
"Take them off," she blurts.
"Huh?"
"My pants." She reaches under her belly and she's unbuttoning them and then his fingers are in the loops, tugging them down, slowly revealing her rounded ass to him. She's wearing navy, lacy shorts that almost slide down with her jeans until she catches them.
His eyes are right between her legs when she hikes her underwear back up on her ass and she pulls them tight enough that he sees where her vagina splits. The harder he looks, he sees that the material is wet.
And now he knows that she's fat and wet between the legs and he cannot stop fucking looking.
"Your…" he wants to tell her how good she looks. How juicy she looks.
And then by some miracle, he is able to look up and he finds her scorching eyes looking back at him over her shoulder
"Your skin is beautiful," is the compliment that falls from his lips. Her skin is soft everywhere. Freckled and soft and he'd love to just—
"Touch me then."
There's no hiding the deliberate arch in her back now. Her ass is so high her stomach isn't even on the mattress. She wants him to touch her.
He'll do her one better.
He'll taste her.
His fingers are on her thighs and he glides them up as he straddles her legs again. His hands go higher and higher until they're on her ass. He has two handfuls and both of his thumbs graze her covered lips and she moans into her arm. She gasps when he slides her underwear to the side. She's prepared for his touch. Not his tongue.
"Oh!" she moans.
"Can I take these off," he asks, fingering her underwear.
She nods emphatically. "Yes!"
He drags her underwear down until they're resting around her knees and then his mouth is over her center again. Lapping at her juices, sucking her on her nerves before he drags his bottom teeth over her ass, giving her a playful bite. She's laughing when he flips her over and she finally completely rids herself of her bra. She's completely naked and he is standing there with all his clothes and she doesn't even mind it. She's so comfortable with him.
She pulls her hair out from under her and she lifts both hands to the back of her head. She wants him to look. She wants to be seen by him. Her eyes close and her cheeks flush. It feels like he's counting her freckles he's looking so carefully.
"Get naked," she instructs and he loves how husky her voice can get now.
Olivia sits up and she goes for her pants. His eyes are on her as she opens the damn tin box again. She's smirking as she's lighting yet another spliff. It isn't even for her though. It's for him.
She crosses one leg over the other and she watches as he pulls his clothes off. Her mouth salivates with every new stretch of skin he reveals to her. She almost can't contain the wetness in her mouth and she has to spread some over her lips. She finds herself sucking on her bottom lip gently because it feels good and is her only relief in the short moment she has to wait to be touched again.
His eyes are on her breasts when he bends over to push his underwear down. He stands and his dick is erected and curved slightly to the left. His groin is defined and with every inhale she sees the unmistakable outline of his abs. The hair on his chest and belly is just thick enough to just be visible and the only thing he's wearing is the chain around his neck. Sonofabitch, she thinks.
She takes one last pull before she's handing the spliff over to him. He sits next to her, his legs spread wide and now he's smoking again.
"This might be the best night I've ever had in my life. I'm not lying."
"Let me make it better." She swings one leg across his lap, cuffing the tops of her feet into the edge of the bed. Her hand wraps snugly around his stiff boner and she leans forward to whisper in his ear. "How's that?" she asks, flinging her hair over so that he's able to see her face. She holds him steady as she lowers slowly, taking him little by little, moaning softly. He's expecting some obscenity from her, but she's quiet and focused. She's using her thigh muscles to slide up and down and when the sting of his size settles, she begins tipping her hips, swinging them back and forth, taking him, covering him, coating him with her arousal.
He's holding the joint between his pointer finger and middle finger, holding it away from her body when both of his hands fly to her hips. He tries to slow her down but her tempo is the only thing that's quelling the throbbing deep inside of her. The further he reaches, the grander it feels. Tingling sensations spread all over body and it makes her shiver and her mind vacates all logical thought. It doesn't even seem real that he's able to get her to this place so far past logic and he's not even moving yet.
Her hips slow down and this can't just be the weed. Her pulse slows down and she feels every thundering beat of her heart. The air conditioner keeps her nipples pebbled and it provides a soothing hum. This is what joy feels like. Bliss. She doesn't think she could have an experience like this with anyone else. Utter trust, deep relaxation, and intimacy that comes with familiarity.
It means something that she's never allowed anyone else to fill his spot in her heart. She's always hoped he'd come back for her. When she opens her eyes, he's staring back at her. His eyebrows are bunched together, his nose wrinkles, and his eyes tell her everything she's always wanted to hear. She gulps because even through the haze she feels the love emanating between them. She feels the hunger in his hands as they move all over her body like he wants to touch every piece of her.
All he feels is sweet pressure. It sears his skin, glides over him. She's wet and excited and gasping and he's proud of her for at least being able to get air into her lungs. He holds his breath until he feels like he's going to faint and when he finally breathes, he moans without restriction. It makes her smile. "I want to hear you," Olivia encourages. "Don't be shy."
He's used to doing all the work. Kathy used to submit to him. Give her body willingly and accepted what he offered. Olivia has climbed right on top of him and she is moving and moaning and it's all her. She's fucking him and he's into letting go of the reins. His hands wrap around her jaw and his thumb runs over lips, just to see. He doesn't think she'll suck his thumb, but sure enough, her lips wrap around the tip of his finger and the inside of her mouth feels slippery and inviting.
His eyes are stuck on her lips and then she's leaning back and her fingernails dig into his thighs. She bounces up and down and her breasts sway in front of him. It's mesmerizing. Enchanting.
And just when he thinks she's going to come, she stands up and she's sinking down on her knees between his legs. "Had to taste us," she whispers against his erection. He has smoke filtering out of his nose when she takes him in and it's the sexiest thing she's ever seen. She makes him disappear into her mouth over and over again. She sucks so passionately her head bobs up and down, her throat opens for him, her cheeks and her tongue work over him.
She kisses the mushroom tip one last time before she's standing to her feet. He grabs her hips and he kisses her belly. He hands her the spliff and it's almost burned out. She inhales one last long pull before getting rid of it. He cups her breasts in his hands and he drags kisses from one to the other before he sucks one hard nipple into his mouth. She moans and she attempts to mount him again but he's stronger and bigger than her and he rolls her onto her back.
She feels like satin, soft everywhere. It's all he can think about as he's sliding into her again, growling into her neck like a maniac.
She feels the chain on his neck leaving a trail of goosebumps between her breasts. And just when she thinks he's going to jackrabbit fuck her, his hips thrust deep and his hips shift expertly to the curve of his dick and she losing it already. She whimpers, moans, and begs as he fills her. She fists the sheets, almost ripping them off the mattress as her hips lift off the bed to meet his. Her hand flies between them and she strokes herself and then she's moaning and coming all around him.
He's thankful because he can't hold back any longer and they're both trembling, groaning, sex-crazed idiots when he finally pours into her.
—
"I'm starving El," she mumbles against his chest. "We haven't eaten a thing." He groans but he doesn't move. "I'm going to the kitchen." She pushes him off of her and she's slipping his henley shirt over her head.
He listens to her bang around for a bit before he has mercy on her and he joins her into the kitchen. He only has on boxer briefs and they fit tightly to his body. She notices him but she's in too much shock to acknowledge him.
"I don't grocery shop," Elliot finally says. She turns around and she has a box of macaroni and cheese in one hand and an apple in another. "I also have water. Crackers somewhere around here."
"Don't you have a child living here?"
"He eats out."
"That must be expensive."
"You should see his credit card bill."
"You give him a credit card?" she asks. "Eli should not have a credit card."
She bends over to look in the refrigerator and surprisingly there's fresh milk, butter and eggs, along with boxes of takeout she wouldn't try even if someone offered her to pay her to. She walks up to him and just when he thinks she's going to complain some more, she kisses his lips. "Guess we're eating Mac and cheese. And an apple."
Olivia fills a small pot with water and she turns on the burner and they stand in silence as the water heats up.
"I'm taking you grocery shopping in the morning," Olivia says eventually.
"Okay," Elliot agrees. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Do you think people do this? After sex they stand around and talk about it?"
He chuckles. "You know what I'm talking about." She nods her head and he continues. "That was a lot."
"Can we just let it be what it was? Do we have to talk everything to death? God knows we've got a lot to talk about but why now? I'd like to enjoy this with you."
"Did you enjoy it?" He asks,
"If you have to ask," she says smirking, teasing him. She bunches the sleeves of his shirt higher on her arms. She cuts off a piece of butter and pours a fourth cup of milk as she waits for the water to boil.
Once it starts boiling she pours the pasta into the pot and then she turns to look at him.
"I've never seen you cook."
"Kraft doesn't even qualify. Noah could probably do it if I let him."
"You look sexy in my shirt."
She grins and she crosses her bare legs at the ankle. "You look sexy without it."
"Come here."
He pulls her into his arms and he bends forward to kiss her lips. "I needed this tonight."
"This won't be a regular thing."
"What? The sex or the smoking?"
Olivia smiles. "I don't know yet."
His big hands drop to her ass and he hikes her up against him, almost roughly and she laughs. "Tell me you don't mean that."
"I'm kidding!" she chuckles and then she's kissing him again. It's easy to get carried away. His fingers are over her core and just about to enter her again when she has to push him away. "No more of this," she laughs. "Get me some pants. Let's go eat this on the roof."
"It's cold."
"Not that cold. And I think we overdid it in here. We're going to need to open up every window so that by tomorrow we get the smell out."
"If Eli asks me if anyone was smoking in the apartment I'm telling him it was you!"
—
The rooftop of his building is beautiful. There's a gym and a pool and a place to barbecue. Right around the edge of the roof is a lounge area with tables and chairs and Elliot guides her to a table. She hands him a bowl and he hands her a bottle of water and they begin eating in silence. "Mac and cheese on the roof is good," Elliot says with a smirk.
"You're high."
"The wind feels good. Foods good. You look good. I'm having a good time."
"Good."
"And this time if you want to smoke again, we won't smoke the apartment out."
"I would've hated to be your friend as a kid."
"This is a non-smoking building, Olivia."
Olivia snorts, openly amused. "Ok, nerd."
He laughs.
When she finishes her food, she stand up and she walks toward the railing, peering over the city. She has a good view of the Queensborough Bridge and Manhattan and she turns around to look at him. "Why do we keep running into bridges?"
"Maybe it's a sign from God?"
"What? To rebuild our bridge? God has never been that literal for me."
"After what's happened tonight, I don't know that there's much more to rebuild."
Olivia lifts an eyebrow at him. "I beg to differ."
"Liv..."
"There were years where if you'd have shown up, I'd have punched you right in the face."
"You'd have hit me?"
"I promise you I would've. No words. Just a pop," she motions her fist, "right to the mouth."
"What changed?"
"I've grown. Therapy. You lost Kathy." She steps even closer to him so that she's able to run her fingers over the back of his head.
"Thanks for not punching me at the crime scene."
"And on the roof at the precinct?"
Elliot smiles sadly. "Nothing good ever came after 'you know what, Elliot,'" he mocks and she laughs. "Thank you, Liv. For everything. I just want to be in your life in any way you'll have me. I know I don't deserve you. You've saved my life before but this time, I..." he shakes his head. He can't complete the sentence. It'd been scary for the both of them and this is exactly what she doesn't want to do. Sit here on this amazing night and get dragged down by all the pain they've been forced to endure.
She dips down and she kisses his lips gently. It's a soft, wet kiss, only meant to be a quick acknowledgment of the words he's just said. When her lips falter, his hand gently claws its way into her hair, holding her to his mouth. His tongue is sweet when it slips past her lips. The urgency from earlier had waned a bit but bubbles at the surface.
She pinches the soft materiel of the sweatpants between her thumb and forefinger as she hikes them up higher on her thighs. She wants the room to move. Besides it's getting harder to kiss him at this height and it's the perfect excuse to swing her legs over his, straddling him in the seat. His hands are quickly on her ass, pulling her down into his lap.
"We should stop," he pants. They are on his roof. It's a cloudy September night. The wind is cold and whips her hair around them as she grinds on top of him.
"No," is Olivia's response. She can't stop. She can't bring her hips to stop rocking against him. It feels too good and now she knows how complete of a feeling it is to be filled by him and he's hardening and growing again in his pants.
She moans into his neck with every swing of her hips, with every brush of contact to her sensitive clitoris. She feels everything. She feels the ridges and planes of his erection through their soft pants and it doesn't help that he is so assertive now. Lusty hands and forceful, deliberate lips and it's driving her mad. The thrust of his hips, the way he's dragging her heat up and down on his erection, controlling her even though he's said they should stop. He's not stopping and she loves him for it— she loves that he's just as lost in this hedonistic frenzy with her. The added vibration, the level of relaxation her body has tapped into, has her moving on automatic. There are no thoughts attached to the way their bodies slide against each other. Something takes over them, something primal. It's all so basic and fundamental, their lust for each other.
Her skin tingles and she knows it'd feel so good to kiss him, but she can't. She's too close to concentrate on anything else. Not the wind, not that they are on his goddamn roof, exposed at their most desperate moment. She can't think of anything but the man beneath her making her feel so good.
It's then that she notices he's panting too. The grip on her hips has tightened and now when he thrusts, he's picking them both up off of the chair. And then his hands are in her hair and he's pulling her head back to look at her face. Her cheeks are red, her eyes are glassy and the seriousness behind her eyes makes him laugh.
"What?"
"I'm about to make you come again," he whispers, and even under the tingling pleasure, she finds it in her to roll her eyes. He's still smiling when he pulls her down for a kiss. And she was right. Kissing him makes everything so much better.
Him and the high she feels are only pushing things barreling forward. She can't stop and before she knows it, her hands are in his pants, pulling his dick out between them, stroking him. Elliot groans, but she feels his head jerking, knows he is looking around them, over his head.
"There's nobody here, nerd," Olivia whispers, her grip on him tightening. The sound he makes comes straight from his gut. "You want me to stop?" He shakes his head as the word no escapes him. "I didn't think so."
"What if we get caught?"
It is his home and maybe that's why he's acting like this. She's never had to talk him into a bad idea before, even as partners. He's always been game and this new, cautious, former brute of a man won't do it for her. She needs a little of her partner back and maybe that's why she's full on peer pressured him into this night all together.
They should stop, but it's too late. His dick is so hard it reminds her of the black steel of her gun. Reminds her of an hour before when he'd had her splayed across his bed and Jesus, just the memory. She's standing to her feet, their eyes meet and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. They're really doing this. They're about to fuck on his roof.
She wants to pull her pants all the way off and straddle him again. But she knows she doesn't have the agility to quickly hop back into her pants at a moment's notice so instead she turns around, her back to him, her ass exposed. She lowers herself back onto his lap, trapping his erection between him and her round ass. She moves against him, the heat between them already accumulating sweat on their skin. The smoothness of her against the smoothness of him. The wetness, the shuddering she already feels, God. She just wants a taste.
She leans backward, her back on his chest, his head is between her shoulder blades and this time when she sinks down, he's holding his rigid erection for her in his fist. She's slow moving and when she's finally seated and filled again, she sighs happily. His hands slip under the white Henley shirt again to palm her breasts, holding her to him.
His nose is in her hair, his lips skimming her neck as she grips him tightly. "You're going to come," he announces and Olivia squeaks in response because he's right. It won't take much at all. Her nipples are puckered hard in his hands and her stomach ripples as she tries to contain herself.
And then she can't take it anymore. Her slim fingers wrap about his forearms and she rises and falls, only twice before she's shattering around him. It only quickens her movements above him and she's moaning freely into the night. No one will hear them over the traffic and liveliness of the city beneath them.
"Elliot," she chants, grinding against him, leaning back again. She turns her head and their lips connect, the hot air of their breaths flooding out of their noses. He has one hand over her crotch, the other still at her breasts and without warning he's lifting them both up so that they're standing. He's still buried deep within her as he walks them to the railing. Olivia's hands return to the black metal and the city is actually twinkling under her gaze. Her eyes are watering as his lips skim down the back of her neck, across her right shoulder.
"I'm gonna fuck you now."
And then he does. He pulls her hips back and she brings her hands down to the lower railing so that she's bent over. The scrunch of the sweat pants are tight around her thighs and the loose shirt rises higher on her back.
He wants to tell her that he's never done anything like this. As his dick disappears inside of her body, as the world moves and stays in motion as this monumental thing happens between them, again, he should say something. But he can't, not even when the first raindrop falls. They both feel it, he sees it on her back and his hips never stop moving. And like they're bringing in the storm with their lovemaking, a gleam of lightning flashes not too far from them. They both notice and their movements are frenzied and uncoordinated by the time the thunder follows. Her hands are gripping the railing so tightly, he is gripping her hips so tightly and they both try to catch the impending release but it doesn't come. There's just pleasure and bliss and rain. It's pouring over them in less than a minute and Olivia has to force her eyes closed from the water that drips from her eyelashes.
He pulls her up and bites into her neck when another orgasm overtakes her. He groans and then he's pulling out of her and grabbing her hand, dragging her back toward the entrance of the building. Olivia yelps as she forces her legs one in front of the other, her weak knees knocking and her thighs still vibrating beneath her.
They're both laughing when they're finally inside, safe from the rain. She wraps her arms around him as he presses for the elevator. "We're dripping," Olivia says against his neck. She shivers and holds him tighter and his lips skim over her forehead.
The elevator comes and as they step inside, Elliot dips down and he whispers right into her ear, sending shivers down her spine, across her wet skin. "That was your fault," Elliot announces.
Olivia pulls her head back so that she is able to see his face. "I'll take the blame for that," she says earnestly. Her hair looks darker, dark the way it was when they first met. Her makeup is pooling black around her eyes and her lips are swollen from his kisses. She looks thoroughly fucked and absolutely ravishing. He presses his hips into her because he can't stop himself.
He's still hard.
"Did you come?"
"No... I didn't want to get struck by lightening—"
She backs away and her fist smashes into the STOP button. The elevator comes to a halt. The lights turn red and an annoying alarm sounds. Before he can ask, she's pulling his pants down to his thighs and she backs herself into a corner of the elevator.
She doesn't have to convince him this time.