Promise
The feel of his rough hands and his curious mouth on her skin resides vividly in her mind. It plays front and center in her head when the need is too strong and looks for release in the memory of his body moving steadily above her.
Her tea is getting cold on the coffee table as Olivia sits curled up on the couch reading a book. Still wearing the green dress with the flowing skirt she had wore for lunch earlier that day, she finds herself having to re-read the same paragraph at least 10 times; her mind is elsewhere, back on that little moment.
The moment is her impromptu encounter with Elliot when she and Noah were leaving their favorite Italian restaurant. He looked good - really good. Her heart had fluttered in her chest at the sight of him and it does again now as she remembers, and desire courses through her body when she remembers the last time they had been alone together.
This thing, this "for now" they're navigating, they are taking it slow, maybe too slow. They are friends, close friends. Good friends. Nobody who might even glance at them could deny that fact, but inside their little world, the one no one else is quite aware of yet, they are together... though decidedly undefined. They have succumbed to temptation twice, so far... five if she counts the phone calls. 'So far' she thinks, because yes, even Olivia knows there will be more times. Many more times.
The feel of his rough hands and his curious mouth on her skin resides vividly in her mind. It plays front and center in her head when the need is too strong and looks for release in the memory of his body moving steadily above her.
Olivia, deep in such heated thoughts, hardly hears her phone vibrating on the table next to her forgotten mug.
'You looked beautiful today.'
She reads on the screen when she unlocks it. Olivia smiles. She had been wondering when he was gonna text her. They talk almost every day, sometimes briefly, just to check up on each other; other times more at length.
She bites her bottom lip thinking of her reply. Should she be bold? Let the heat take over or let it gradually build? Like they had many times before; teased, baited until one had cracked at last and called the other, urged them on and on until they finally went over the edge; dirty words and barely held moans leaving their lips and traveling through the phone.
It usually happens when they can't see each other, which is often; and which makes their release, now ripe and ready to burst, so much sweeter. It happens when they just need to relieve tension, or so she tells herself when she gets overwhelmed by him.
'Thank you. You didn't look too bad yourself.'
Olivia finally replies, keeping it simple.
'Wish I could have seen more...'
Five minutes. That's how long they last this time. Elliot is usually the one that caves in first, he's usually the one that calls her and he's the one that tells her to pretend is his cock instead of her fingers, tells her to fuck herself as fast and as hard as she knows he'd do it, to pinch her nipples as if it were his mouth and teeth sucking and nibbling on them.
'Next time.'
She types, feeling warm and needy already.
'Next time?'
Elliot asks not a second later.
'Promise?'
He adds quickly.
'You're gonna let me see you and touch you the next time we see each other?'
He's insistent, but Olivia doesn't mind. It makes her feel wanted, which she hadn't felt for a while, and horny honestly. Maybe she will take an extra-long-long shower after their exchange.
'Promise.'
She feels like a teenager, sexting her boyfriend.
Boyfriend? Where did that come from?
Her cell vibrates again, pulling her from her thoughts.
'You and Noah have any other plans for tonight?'
Elliot continues their chat, changing the subject. He can be soft when he wants to, she muses. It's one of the reasons why...
One of the reasons why what, Olivia? One of the reasons, what? She knows the answer, deep down, but can't bring herself to bare her heart out for him just yet.
'Not really. Take-out probably. He's playing a neighbour, the kid from 3B.'
She responds.
'Begged me to go.'
Her phone vibrates again almost as soon as she's done replying but with an incoming call this time.
"You let him go on Mother's day?" His gruff voice asks, somewhat incredulous.
She smiles. Listening to him, listening to his steady breathing through the phone. It will not help quench the fire already burning inside her.
"Yeah, he's a sweet kid. Today has been so perfect, I couldn't say no." It had been a good day. Noah had given her a collage of photos of them through the years, from when he was still in diapers until recently, almost a man. Her "mini-man", as she sometimes calls him jokingly. Noah pretends to hate the nickname, but he's very protective of her and even at his young age, knows the important role he plays in his mother's life.
"So you're alone then?" Elliot inquires, and some part of her already knows how this will end.
"Very." She says, quietly, seductively. Already out of breath. She knows where it will end because she's thinking the same.
"Good, because I'm standing outside in the hallway outside your door, and I'm gonna make you do good on your promise."
Olivia walks rapidly towards her front door; no, she doesn't walk, she sprints towards it and has to stop herself from ripping it open. Wouldn't want him to know of excited she is, how impatient. She won't hear the end of it. Unlocking the door as calmly as her shaking hands allow her, she finds him there, just as he said, leaning against the wall facing her front door; all tall, hard and muscular in front of her. He appears calm and collected, unbothered; though deep down he's as eager as her.
Jesus Christ.
It's like the more they touch, the more they crave.
"You still wearing that damn dress?" He says as a greeting.
"Thought you liked it!" It comes out as a whine, she doesn't mean to.
"I'm very fond of it. You look... delectable."
"Delectable?" She asks, furrowing her brow.
"Extremely." He replies, peeking behind her. He's been inside her apartment a few times, the last two were the most remarkable. "You said your were going to let me see more of that dress. You gonna let me in?" Elliot finally asks, they both know why he's there. Olivia pulls him inside by his coat, more like drags him in; she's barefoot, making him loom above her as they collide in a feverish kiss. It makes her feel small and dainty, like he could swallow her whole.
She hopes he will.
"Hello, my friend Olivia," Elliot whispers between kisses. "I missed you."
"My friend, Elliot... you saw me a few hours ago." She says breathlessly, pleased that his need is as intense as hers. Her arms wrap around his neck, bringing his upper body down so she can nip his lips and finally, finally delve her tongue inside and taste him. Coffee, of course he tastes like coffee. The man is practically addicted to it, but only the fancy kind.
"I meant," He explains, backing her against the wall behind her door. It's a bit rough, unapologetic. She loves it. They are at a stage where they aren't ready to profess their deepest feelings, instead, they just do; carrying out their most basic needs.
"I missed touching you, kissing you." His hands pin her to the wall and then begin bunching up the fabric of her dress around her waist. He immediately goes for her ass, he's very fond of that part of her anatomy. "I love your ass, have I ever told you that?" He voices his thoughts out loud.
"No..." She moans over his lips, whimpering when the tips of his fingers brush her core through her underwear. He cups and massages the generous mounds while letting his fingers play a little lower.
She's sure she will wear the mark of his fingers on her skin for days after he's done with her.
She's sure that's his goal.
Elliot leaves her plump lips, moving down her jaw to the hollow of her throat. "How long do we have?"
"I..." She can't think straight when she feels him tug at the fabric of hee dress, the bow around her waist, undoing the small emerald colored buttons one by one.
Focus Olivia.
"He- he should be back around, um, six." She stammers. A quick glance at his watch confirms Elliot that they have about half an hour.
"Hm, I can be quick." Elliot asserts, tugging at her panties.
"I don't think that's something you should be proud of." Olivia teases, helping him remove the top of her dress and letting the now loose material pool at her feet, revealing her full breasts in a black lacy bra and matching panties, which are already down past her knees, she helps things along nudging them down with her toes. The bra she has on has a small, pink bow in the center; the sight of such a cutesy, little thing between her large tits makes his cock twitch.
He's very fond of her tits too. Always has.
"Jesus... Fuck." He has to taste them. It's imperative he does. His hands clutch her by the waist as he leans down, his teeth gripping the tiny bow and pulling and pulling, slowly revealing a rosy, erect nipple ready for his ravenous mouth. He releases the fabric and it snaps softly back against her skin. Her left nipple gets trapped half outside the cup of her bra and he coax it all the way out with his tongue. The sensation is delicious.
Elliot hands on her waist attemp to lead her towards her bedroom but she resists. "Right here." She moans next to his ear. "Hard. Fast. Right here."
He's so damn glad he took a chance and called her.
When she helps him remove his coat and jacket, her short manicured nails dig into the skin of his back through his shirt. Olivia makes a mental note to have him back here as soon as possible, she longs for the feel of his naked skin on her, for his hard chest pressing her down on the bed, for the scent that belongs to him and him alone.
One thick finger enters her and it is then she wonders why the fuck she let so many days pass since their last encounter. "That feel good? Do you need... ?" He aims to please, in bed at least. Olivia had been wonderfully surprised at how selfless he could be. Giving and giving before finally seeking his own pleasure. She knows what he means. They had used lube the last time, he now knows where she keeps it, way in the back of the second drawer of her nightstand. His cock deep inside her doesn't feel as personal to her as the fact he holds this knowledge now.
"Am I not wet enough for you, Detective?" She whispers. Olivia decides to string him along, because otherwise, why are they even here? A second finger enters her and her moan is loud in the quiet apartment.
His other hand closes around her throat, holding her in place again while his mouth steals the rest of her breath. "You are, baby. But I don't plan on being gentle tonight. I need to fuck you so hard and I don't wanna hurt you." He says this right in her face. His filthy words travelling from his mouth and into hers, as if fucking her with his words already. "You do have to go to work tomorrow." He grins, smug. Sure of himself and his effect on her.
"I can take it." She sighs, trying to appear unaffected by the way his fingers keep working her. Olivia keeps egging him on, she know she's gonna get it alright.
He smiles, feral. "I'm sure you can, Captain." Elliot increases the rhythm of his fingers inside her. He has gone from soft to lascivious quickly, and she can't blame him. She needs it. She wants it, in anyway he plan to give it to her tonight. She likes to think she incites such nature from him.
Vanilla my ass.
Elliot pulls away, his hands leaving her for a moment. She watches as he surveys her living room, all around them. It quickly dawns on her that he's looking where to fuck her and the realization makes her feel a new rush of wetness gather in her center. His eyes settle on the small table right beside them, the one with the large ceramic vase on top. The one that has no use whatsoever, but looked cute when she put it there.
"Don't you dare break that vase!" She warns, her clouded mind clearing momentarily, just as he blindly and desperately attempts to clear the wooden surface with his arm. The vase in question is lowered to the floor, and rapidly Elliot lifts her and has her on top of the table, his pants undone and his cock rubbing through her folds.
"You gonna take it all?" He asks, seeking her entrance, penetrating her fully with one long stroke and quickly pulling out. She closes her eyes, nodding fiercely. It stings a little, she's seeing stars behind her eyelids already. "Look at me." He demands. Her eyes open at his command, there isn't much she would deny him in moments like this. "Look at us." He adds, stroking his now-damp cock through her slit again. "Look how good we look." Both set of eyes follow the motion of his cock. Back and forth over her already swollen pussy. The purple head, shiny with her juices and his leaking pre-cum, pushes against her clit with each pass. They both watch as he thrusts inside again, and she, indeed, takes in all in one stroke.
"Fuck!" She cries loudly, thanking God, or anyone, that Noah is two floors down because she's pretty sure everyone on her floor can hear Captain Benson being properly fucked.
"That's right. Let me hear you again." He grunts, his voice raspy with need. And she does, she moans and cries for him because she knows how wild it gets him. And because she can barely contain herself.
"Harder." She pleads.
He sets a maddening pace, both stealing kisses through labored breaths. She has already bumped her head twice on the wall behind her. Her arms are gripping his shoulders, holding on for dear life. His arms hold the weight of her thighs in the inside crook of his elbows, spreading her open. Elliot slams into her particularly hard once, twice when her head makes contact with the painting that hangs behind her and it comes crashing down.
"Look at what you did." Olivia chides, her lips leaving the skin of his neck and barely glancing at the fallen painting with the now broken frame. She couldn't care less.
"Want me to stop?" He asks, almost rhetorically. There's no way they'll slow down. She shakes her head, words escaping her. "Better hold on then." Elliot spreads her impossibly open, fingers interlocking in the back of his neck when starts driving into her piston-like. 'Bam, bam, bam,' goes her head on the wall. In some vestige in the back of her mind, she worries about a possible concussion, it's quickly tampered with by the fact that as good as it feels, she realizes she won't come in this position. It's not enough, she needs more. Now.
"What do you need, baby?" Elliot asks when she urges him to slow down. His question is answered when she makes him pull out, leaves his arms, lowers herself to the ground, and bends over the table, ass up in the air, glistening pussy waiting for him.
"Like this. Do me like this." She says with a pout, needy. Almost innocently. There's nothing innocent in her actions. She jiggles her ass at him; an invitation, a request.
Covering her body with his, his cock in one hand, her warm breast in the other, he pushes his way back inside. He alternates massaging one tit, then the other, lowering the cups of her bra and pinching her nipples the way he has learned she likes. "Does it feel good, baby? Tell me."
"So good..." She moans. "So full..."
"Yeah?" He grunts, fucking into her. "You like how I fill you up?" Thrust. "You are so fucking tight, Olivia." Thrust.
"Yea- yeah. Harder, Elliot!" She shouts, she actually fucking shouts. He finds her clit and begins rubbing furiously, holding onto her body, Olivia's hands the only thing keeping them from falling over.
"I'm gonna make you come." He groans, licking a path from her shoulder to her ear. His voice reverberates obscenities almost inside her eardrum.
"Faster. Gonna come so hard, El." She's not even aware of how whiny she is, and she will be embarrassed when she thinks about it later while she showers, but right now she just needs him to never stop.
"That's my girl." He slaps her ass, hard, his hand kneading the offended skin, soothing the pain as the sweet agony inside her spills over. "El!" She punctuates the moment. Her inner walls clenching around his cock, momentarily lessening his movements. He feels her milking him and his next few thrusts aren't gentle as he groans her name.
"Inside." She replies at his silent question, once again communicating with few words. "Come inside me, baby. I wanna feel you." Pregnancy is not a possibility, but Elliot still asks, each time, he asks. Olivia is utterly spent but holds on. A few rough strokes and he spills deep inside her, his moan is as loud as hers was, if not more.
Elliot gathers her in his arms, kissing her temple and moves to a Standing position, grunting when his back cracks. He will get her on a bed next time. No matter his renewed stamina, he's not 20 anymore. His pointer finger draws small circles on her clit, prolonging her pleasure. Olivia reaches behind her, seeking his lips. "You called me baby." Elliot smiles, tongue playing with hers.
"I did not." She refutes, gasping and clenching on him again as he softens and slips out.
"You most certainly did. I'm not gonna let you live that down." His laugh is contagious, she treasures the last few moments alone. He should to leave soon. One day, someday, when Noah is used to him, when she is used to him, he will stay over. He will stay and never leave.
Later, after Elliot is gone, after she takes a quick shower and welcomes Noah back, they both sit on the couch and begin browsing take-out menus until she notices the confused expression on her son's face.
"Mom?" The boy says.
"Yes, sweetie," Olivia replies, her hands caressing his curly hair.
"Why is the vase on the floor?" Olivia freezes. "And what happened to the painting? Why are they on the floor, do you not like them anymore?" He innocently asks.
She's mortified. In her haste to clean up and clean herself up, she had forgotten the wreckage they'd left behind. 'Happy Mother's Day, Olivia.' She thinks to herself. 'Let's see how you get yourself out of this one!'
Well, that was... interesting to write.
Can't wait to hear your thoughts. Let me know!