A/N: I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea (and have the twitter poll to prove it), but I think there's enough of you out there who do want it ;) So warning once again: this is very dirty while still being very tender. And it includes pegging - which if you're not into, I suppose you can still read the first ⅔ of this and stop before that starts :p As always, love to hear from you!

He manages to make it through the front door and spot her sitting on the couch before everything in him gives up. Olivia looks up at him, pulls the glasses off her face, empathy and understanding there in her eyes.

She closes the folders in her lap, puts them aside and reaches a hand towards him. Elliot comes forward, the comfort he needs right now goes down to a place somewhere in his marrow. He stops in front of her and drops to his knees, brings his head into her lap.

He hears her sigh softly, her hands cradling the back of his head and he breathes in the scent of her, the comfort of being home in her arms.

"What do you need, El?"

He needs to not feel like a useless piece of a shit for starters. But he can't bring that to words. Can't voice how inadequate he feels after the catastrophe of his day. He wraps his hands around her calves, presses his face hard into her lap.

Her hands glide down his head, onto his back, caressing and soothing. It's not enough. He needs more of her, all of her. A pressing desire to feel alive, made stronger by the fact that he doesn't feel he deserves it.

He'd lost two witnesses today. Two people he'd sworn he'd protect if they just came forward with what they knew. He doesn't always take things this hard. But he's so certain they'd still be alive if he hadn't hounded them, hadn't guilted them into doing the supposed right thing.

They'd put their trust in him. And he'd done his job. Done what he could to protect them. Pushed them to come forward because it was his life's work to put the bad guy away. And he'd failed them.

He hadn't done anything wrong, logically speaking. Even IAB hadn't been able to find anything to hold against him. But did that matter when two people were dead?

Olivia knew all of this already. He'd called her to tell her he'd be coming home late and the words had spilled out without preamble.

He feels her hands draw up and over his shoulders, pushing him off of her lap and upright. He drags his gaze up to her as her hands move to his tie and work it open.

Once it's off she stands, flicks her fingers at him so he follows suit and then tilts her head and he follows her readily into the bedroom.

"Take off your clothes, Detective." Her voice is soft, but firm. It's such a relief to just obey; unbuttoning the vest and shirt, removing the belt, not stopping until he's naked.

In spite of everything, he'd half hard under her scrutiny. They're standing in the middle of the bedroom and he feels her eyes moving across his body. It makes him stand up a little taller. Makes him want to please her.

She moves towards him, her eyes lowered, staring at his cock. And god, that makes him harder. Makes him come to full attention.

Her eyes finally lift to his. "I know what you need. So you're going to follow my commands. Is that understood?"

This is different than the usual game. Under the stern phrasing, her voice is gentle, kind, tender. He sighs heavily, finding it remarkable how she always knows just what he needs. He nods slowly, eyes closing in relief. "Yes, Captain."

Her nails are on his cock now and he gasps at the sensation, drawing from the base to the tip, leisurely.

"What happened isn't your fault."

He sags at the words, shakes his head. But she cuts him off, voice sharp.

"Remember your orders." And he stills, straightens.

"Look at me, Detective." His eyes open and he finds her gaze soft but unyielding. "It wasn't your fault."

He struggles to breathe in, struggles not to deny her.

"I know how hard it is. I understand." For a second he thinks he'll collapse there in front of her. Beg her to punish him. Beg her to somehow make it alright.

But then her other hand comes to his chest, just over his heart. "You take the blame because you're a good man. Because your heart wants to always do right."

He finds he believes her as her hand finally grips around his cock. He sighs tremulously.

"I didn't do enough." He says, because it finally feels safe to admit it. "I shouldn't have pushed them-"

Her thumb brushes his lips. "You were trying to do the right thing. And so were they." Her hand moves to his cheek and he turns into her touch, closes his eyes once more.

Her hand moves down his length, rotates over the tip, slides back to the base. He moans softly, turns his mouth into her palm, presses his lips there.

"You're a good man, Elliot. You always try to do the right thing. You care about people, you take care of others. You do your best. That's all that matters."

"Liv…" Tears slide suddenly down his cheek, catch in her hand. He can taste the salt of them on her skin as they slip into her palm and onto his lips.

"You want to touch me, Detective?"

He turns his head towards her, forces his eyes open. "Yes," He breathes.

"Then I need you to believe me." She says, gently.

He furrows his brow at her and her hands drop away from him. He makes a displeased sound, emitting from the back of his throat as a groan.

"You want me to touch you?" She asks as his hands fist at his sides.

"Yes," The begging note is there in his voice, but he doesn't care.

"What else do you want?"

"Need to taste you." The words curl off his tongue as he thinks about how wet she'll be, the sound she'll make when he circles her clit.

"What else?" She presses, because he knows she already knows, but she wants him to tell her. She wants him to admit how much he needs it.

He exhales harshly, it's most difficult to ask when he's not asking for fun. When he's asking because he's craving it, because he needs it so badly.

"Please," He whispers instead. "You know, Captain."

"Hmmm," She replies, a little condescension there, just enough, really.

"And do you know what I need to hear then?"

She's circled back now, back to the start of this. Back to the reason he needs this so badly. He nods, crisply.

"Tell me."

"I…I did my best." Not quite believing it, still second guessing that he couldn't have stopped it all from going wrong.

"Try again," Her voice is calm but he knows she means it. Knows she won't give him what he needs until he means what he says.

He takes a deep breath, the events of the day replaying in his mind. "I tried to do the right thing." And this he can believe. Some part of him beginning to realize that if he hadn't tried due to fear, he would have regretted it. Some part of him knowing that he couldn't have predicted that this would all go sideways, despite his best efforts.

"Better," She soothes. "And?"

This is hardest. Because he knows he tries, but he thinks he fails more often than not. Thinks he's failed her in particular far too often. "I'm a good man." He can barely get it out, the sound just a whisper. But she knows how he struggles with this and she steps forward, cradles his head between her hands and shushes him gently.

She steps back again and slowly draws the tshirt she's wearing up and over her head. Pulls off the cotton bra off and then tugs her leggings down. And then she's naked before him, so perfect and golden and everything he doesn't deserve. He wants to weep, prostrate before her, worship her only.

She turns away from him, sits on the bed and gives him a small nod and he comes willingly, slips back to his knees before her. He waits for her to tell him it's ok, waits for her to guide and lead.

Olivia slides her hand from the back of his neck, across his jaw. "So handsome," She says softly. "You wanna make me feel good?" Her voice low and husky and he shudders from the sheer pleasure of hearing it.

"Please," He says and she guides him forward.

He lets his hands skim up her thighs as she hooks her knees over his shoulders, lays back on a pillow she's set behind her. He can still see her face, a magnificent view of her breasts, and he brushes his mouth against her inner thighs, working up to where he wants to be.

His tongue seeks out her moans as it dances along her folds. His hands clench against her ass, kneading her full flesh. Olivia bucks deliciously into his mouth and he moans against her, listens to her breathing hitch at the vibration.

"So good," She whispers, the start of her praise and god, he needs it. "Fuck, El. More…" His eyes move up her body and he watches her chest arch, her nipples hard. He sucks at her clit and sees her fingers seek out her stiff nipples, watches her roll and pinch.

His tongue slides inside her, thrusts and she pushes harder against him. "Your fingers," She instructs with a gasp and he complies, slipping one finger inside her, then two. He curls them, presses, thrusts with his digits. Elliot laps at her clit and listens to her keen. And then he adds a third finger and she grunts and moans and writhes against his mouth and comes undone with a flood on his tongue.

He rests his cheek against her thigh and watches her come back to herself. Waits until she looks down at him again before he sits up straight and waits for her instruction.

She smiles down at him, beatific, and she sits up, knees still clasped over him. Her hand returns to his cheek, her thumb brushing the slightly stubbled skin.

"You still want it?" She asks and he sighs into her touch, nodding. "Ok," She says as she places her feet on the ground.

He gets up, moves to the box, hidden in the back of the closet. He pulls out what they need and returns to where she still sits, kneeling once more to place them in her hands. She stands in front of him and he helps her into the harness, watches her place the dildo into the o-ring. He pours the lube over the dildo and strokes it evenly and generously onto the toy.

This part makes him so hard and he is already dripping with need. His cock pulsating with fervent desire when he'd tasted her. And now the thought of her fucking him makes him feel a little delirious.

"Stand up, Detective."

"Yes, Captain," Her murmurs.

Her hand slides down the center of his chest and then she slips past him, her hand gliding around his waist until she's behind him.

She kisses his shoulder and leans up and into his ear. "Bend over." His eyes slip closed with pleasure and he follows her command, bracing himself on the mattress, presenting his ass to her.

She taps his feet apart, massages his ass with her palms. Finally, she spreads his cheeks and he feels the dildo brushing at his entrance.

"Relax," She reminds him and it's so easy to give her what she wants.

He feels her prodding with her fingers, preparing him, her other hand massaging his balls and he groans as the tip pushes inside him. Those first moments are both the worst and the best. The feeling of being stretched open, the near, but not exact, pain of it hitting like a rush of adrenaline. She rotates her hips, just a little, and the discomfort starts to ebb.

"Liv…" His voice pleading because now he wants more.

"Shhh," She hushes as she drapes herself over him, her hard nipples brushing his back, her mouth on his neck. "Gonna take care of you." Her hand wraps around his cock and she pushes further inside him. His head drops, his eyes rolling back and he groans, guttural. It's nearly too much, the way she's filling him. But god, it feels incredible in ways he doesn't have words for.

Her hand slides down his cock, gathering his precum and smoothing it back up. "Gonna give you everything you deserve. You're such a good boy."

Those words do things to him when she has him like this, at her mercy. He'd do anything for her praise, for her approval, at any time. But in these moments he craves it more than ever.

"You're doing so well," She murmurs and he moans in response, whispers her name again.

She's all the way inside him now, pumping slowly, in and out. The pleasure of the dildo rubbing inside him makes him impossibly harder. His cock so rigid he thinks he might come hard enough to pass out.

Her hips still gently thrusting, her hand begins to stroke in time. He's moaning, mumbling her name as she works him. The perfect synchrony of the dildo and her hand making his knees weak. He pushes hard into the bed, fights to stay upright because he's so close now that he can't stop moaning. Every second increases the pleasure more, turning the intensity up in ways he couldn't have predicted before this moment. It's all so mind numbingly good; her hand, the dildo, her words shuddering down his spine. Every word of praise, every thrust inside him, every stroke of his cock and his body, every nerve ending sparking with pleasure.

"Come for me, El. I wanna see you come. I wanna feel you dripping on my hand. You're gonna feel so good when you come."

And then the string of words is drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears as his orgasm hits. He groans loud and long and feels himself spill, Olivia's hand still stroking until he's emptied all of himself, his body quivering in the aftermath.

He finally drops down to the mattress and feels her gently slide out of him. He's only partially aware of her cleaning him up, pressing soft kisses on his cheek and jaw. And when he finally opens his eyes after the waves of pleasure have subsided, she's softly stroking his cheek propped on her elbow beside him.

"Ok?" She asks, her hand caressing down to his chest and he covers it with his own.

"So much better." He manages to say, though words and thoughts are still a little fuzzy. "Thank you, Liv."

She smiles softly in return. "Do you believe me?"

He turns the question over for a moment. "If I'm a good man, it's only because I want to deserve you."

She shakes her head, looks at him tenderly. "I wouldn't have loved you all those years if you weren't a good man, El."

He brings his hand to her cheek and pulls her towards him, kissing her with everything he can muster. When he finally pulls back, he puts it all into his words. "I love you. So much, Liv."

She smiles, so sweetly. "I love you," She replies as she settles onto his chest and they drift off to sleep.