Social Cat, this one's for you. Thank you for letting me crash at your house! You're amazing.
P.S. Here I go again with my awkward dedication chapters.
Sidebar: Thanks for the inspo today Darla! Much love.
You need to let me go.
The words echo through the trailer and Olivia wades through the silence. A few beats pass, all she can feel is the heat of his breath on her neck and his unwavering hold around her waist. She tries to step forward expecting him to release her. He doesn't.
She tries again but he has her even tighter and this time she barely moves an inch.
Son of a bitch.
She hears his breathing escalate from her redundant motions. She wants to say something – anything but his body, the heat of his bare chest, his brashness are all rendering her still. Her fingers move towards his iron grip around her waist. She smoothes her hands over the expanse of his forearms until they reach his fingers and she gently begins to peal his hands off her. His nose bumps the back of her head and he moans his disapproval, causing a plethora of goosebumps to race across her flesh.
Don't. She wants to say but it's her bare feet that manage to find some traction and she is turning, a complete 180 until she is flush up against his chest. She lets out a noise of protest as he continues to sandwich their bodies together intimately, her breasts pressing against his bare torso, the top of her thigh is between his legs as her face has no place to go but the crook of his neck. She tries to move backwards, hoping she'd have more leverage from this angle but he isn't having it.
"Elliot .." the low and throaty sound bounces of the crux of his neck as she finally finds her voice. He is moving her then, stepping her backwards, a sound of exertion leaving her throat as her entire backside makes contact with the wood of the trailer door. She feels every inch of him against her, his chest, thighs, his crotch. Her heartbeat hammers in her chest as his mouth dips dangerously close to hers. He had the foresight to buffer the back of her head with his palm and it's clear as to why when his mouth leans in. Her head twists just in time to dodge his impending mouth, instead they skim across her cheek and stop just above her ear. She feels his ragged, dissatisfied exhale tickle her neck as his fingers press gently into the back of her scalp.
"Kissme goddamn it," he growls in her ear, his brash demand sending a pang of desire to her lower abdomen. His unwavering strength is back in full force and as his chest moves against hers her nipples can't help but tighten in response. She doesn't answer him, her voice is trapped somewhere against the warmth of his body, instead she moves her fingers to the solid frame of his waist attempting resist their proximity. He humours her for a few beats before his hands slip forward, framing her cheeks and suddenly he is leaning in.
His lips press firmly against her mouth and he holds her still for a law drawn out, languid beat. She makes a small sound, her hands moving to his forearms, grasping them until her nails dig in. He moans through the pain, his lips lifting off hers momentarily and it's enough for her to suck in breath. "I hate you," she whispers throatily against his open mouth and he pauses momentarily, before they close over hers more urgently this time. His hands are framing her cheeks as he tilts her head, deepening the kiss and when he slides a tongue into her depths and she can't help but moan in response. Her body is breaking, her heart is hammering. No part of him deserves this reaction from her but she is torn between the boundaries he is crossing and her bodies unwarranted response to his touch.
He is the first to break the kiss, holding her stationary as his crystal blues bore into hers, searching for reassurance. "Good," he whispers against her mouth before he skims his rosy lips across hers. She is out of breath as his teeth nip lightly on her lower lip, her nails continuing to dig into the sensitive skin of his wrists. The wall of his chest rubs against her peaked nipples and she is losing control of her body. "Good Liv," he repeats and her heart thuds, her body breaking when she realizes what he is doing. "I need you to hate me," he rasps before his lips press against hers once more, a stray hand sliding down the ridge of her waist until is grasping her hip holding her lower half against the door, the thud of the motion echoing through the trailer.
He opens her mouth wider, his lips capturing her lower lip as his fingers drive through her hair. The top of his upper thigh somehow manages to wedge itself between her dress and is now pressing directly between her legs. As his mouth continues it's attack on hers all she can focus on is rough denim that's now scraping achingly across the front of her panties. Her mouth opens to moan and he takes it as an excuse to plunge his tongue between her lips, swiping the tip of hers as he increases the pressure between her legs. Her breath hitches in response, the door buckling under the pressure of their weight as denim presses directly against her clit.
"Ugh," she is panting against his mouth, he isn't tapering down and he's going to make her come just from this friction alone. She brakes the kiss, her head thudding back against the wood and his lips are on her neck before she knows it. He nipping at her skin, his hand sliding upward moving across her breast until he is grasping her fullness in her palm and squeezing. Her eyes drift closed as he thumbs her laced covered nipple and she feels a pang between her legs.
"El," she goes to grasp his wrist, to get a hold of herself, to regain her bearings and control of the situation but instead she finds herself closing her palm over his and holding it firmly against her breast. He groans in response, leaning in until his lips scrape the shell of her ear. "Liv," he whispers, his voice dragging, his throaty timbre causing a rush of heat to pool between her legs. "I gotta touch you." Her eyes slip open and there are no words, no coherency from her, just her eyes moving up from his bare chest to his swollen mouth and then finally up to his darkened eyes.
"Please," he repeats and her heart is an incessant thud as she slowly moves his hand off her breast and drags it down her body towards the lip of her dress. As his fingers hit the bare skin of her thigh he exhales expectantly into her neck, his hand slipping beneath the material in seconds, his fingers encircling the back of her knee, hoisting a leg up to his hip. He waits a few beats before he presses forward, his denim covered hard-on pressing flush up against her clit. Her head drops backward and she groans loudly the noise echoing through the trailer. His hand moves up, his palm covering her mouth instantly. Her throat catches as she breathes beneath the pressure of his hand and her eyes slip closed as she feels every inch of his hardness against her.
His lips brush across her forehead before he whispers against her temple. "Shhh." And it's a startling reminder as to where they are. Then it hits. No moaning. No groaning. No pleasure is to be had here. She continues to breathe against the force of his hand before it slowly slips off lips and instead his thumb is parting her lower lip until his mouth is dropping back down to hers, kissing her far more languidly this time.
Her palms are clammy as they cling to his forearm before she feels a hand slide back down to the ridge of her hip. Her leg is still propped against him, the force of his hip still holding her against the wood and his hand is moving between their bodies, dragging her dress upward from the front, pooling the material at her waist before he is dropping his hand between her legs.
Her legs are parted wide enough so that when he touches her his entire palm coats her mound. A noise leaves her throat as she takes in a sharp breath. He is watching her as he begins to stroke her gently and she breathes out heavily at the unexpected intimate contact. His eyes bore into hers as he runs his fingers across her lightly before he turns them around and scrapes his rough knuckles across her clit. Her breathing is ragged and when he presses two fingers deep against her covered slit, her mouth parts as he practically penetrates her through lace.
She is dripping, she can feel the liquid heat pooling beneath his touch, the friction heightening as he rubs damp lace directly against her swollen clit. She bucks against his pressure, he is breathing heavily in her space as his hooded eyes take in each and every reaction that flits across her face as he strokes her. Her hard lace covered nipples scrape against his bare chest with each motion and he is groaning into her neck, slipping his fingers beneath the material of her panties. She practically chokes on her breath as he drags his fingers down her open wet heat, coating them in juices before sliding back up and stroking her clit.
"Fu- El," she whimpers openly and her eyes slip closed as he presses forward, a rush of liquid pooling against his fingers, the wood behind them bucking as her ass thuds against the rickety door that's only just holding their weight.
"Open your eyes Liv," he whispers against her forehead and she opens them just in time for him to drag the tips of his fingers against her clit, once, twice, three times. He watches every part of her pleasure ripple across her face as her fingernails dig roughly into the forearm that's still cupping the back of her head. Her breathing heightens as his erection continues to prod at her stomach and all she can think about is how badly she wants to release it from it's denim enclosure.
He watches her with a knowing, almost as if he can read her thoughts and his mouth is back on hers in seconds. She holds her breath as two thick fingers stake claim at her entrance, a warning of the girth that he can push inside her any moment. His mouth parts her lips and he just breathes against her as his thumb drags back and forth across her clit making her buck once - twice causing her teeth to clamp down over his lower lip in agony.
She releases him, sucking in a breath. "Fu- El," her barely coherent response getting trapped in the recesses of his mouth. "Pl-ease," she whispers and he is moving forward then and it's three unwavering beats before he slides a thick finger inside her. Her tight folds clamp over him immediately and it's Elliot's deep groan that fills her ears as he fills her body. She moans in encouragement as he starts to slide in and out of her core, retracting briefly to slide a second finger into her heat. Her head falls back against the door once more as her legs part against his hips, her walls stretching to accommodate his digits, her whole body arching against wood.
She is breathing heavily against him, his ragged shallow pants mirroring hers. She blocks out their surroundings, the danger, and their imminent, mind-numbing departure and just focuses on her partner. Elliot Stabler. Her rock. Her world. Her protector. His warm cocoon caging hers against wood as he drives is fingers deep into her velvet walls. She blocks it all out, everything but his fingers, his mouth and his unrelenting hard-on - all silent, aching, tangible promises that after 15 long years they will finally extinguish the fire within.
TBC
