Summary: Elliot and Olivia get caught in a rain storm have to spend the night in a crappy motel with a tiny bed. What will they do to keep warm when the electricity goes out?
Notes: I have wanted to write a one bed story for RegardsAlxndra ever since she tweeted about it (on 9/4/22). But I had severe writers block and then I had to re-write the sex scene a million and one times because nothing felt right (my cuts from this story are god-awful).
As a result, this is either the worst thing I've ever written or the best thing and nothing else (or realistically somewhere in between).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy. As always no beta. And I live for comments and favorites.
"Goddamnit! Really?" Elliot shouts as he slams on the steering wheel. The rain came out of nowhere, pouring down and completely obscuring the road in front of them.
He and Olivia volunteered to go interview a witness to a cold case now living about three hours away from the city. For the last several months McGrath had been on a rampage to be the Chief that solved the most cold-cases with the addition of DNA. This means that on top of working their current caseload, SVU detectives were saddled with two to three cold cases each to work on. Other than overworking her colleagues, Olivia actually agreed with McGrath on this goal. She just wished she could hire more detectives.
Olivia, of course, took on a handful of cases in solidarity with her squad. She knew the importance of solving these particular crimes and bringing justice and solace to survivors all across New York. She'd been working on this particular case for a couple of weeks. And when she told Elliot that she planned on taking a Saturday trip out of the city, he jumped on the opportunity to join her.
They'd been "dating" for about a little under a month now. Elliot finally asked her out on a date, an official date, last month. Their dinner was awkward at first—having Elliot tell her she was beautiful and reaching for her hand over a candlelit table was too new—but by the end of the evening, their nerves were shaken out and they had a great time.
Being a gentleman, however, Elliot refused Olivia's offer for a nightcap at her place. Instead he walked her to the door, kissed her cheek, and left to go home. Olivia was confused and let down by his actions. She had used the entire drive home to psych herself up to kiss him and maybe more. It'd taken her a lot to finally admit her feelings for Elliot to herself and the depth of her desire for him. And as much as she tried to deny it, his gentle, "not tonight," with a sweet touch of his lips to her cheek, felt like rejection.
Elliot knew she was disappointed, and he second guessed his move, thinking that maybe even hurt her by his decision not to enter her apartment after their date—Lord knows he would have loved nothing more than spending the night at her place, showing her how much he likes her, loves her. He called her when he got home and somewhat awkwardly explained that he was nervous, and he just wanted to do it the right way. He wanted them to take their time and really get used to being more than friends and adjust themselves to adding this new layer to their relationship before they pursued a physical relationship. And he assured her, repeatedly, that he was very attracted to her and wanted to have a physical relationship with her.
For the next couple of weeks, they'd gone out for a few weeknight dinners and met for lunch. But the progression of their physical relationship was stalled. To some extent they were thwarted by work and family obligations, but they were also a little gun shy now that Elliot had put so much importance on their physical progression. Olivia wasn't sure when Elliot would feel that enough time had passed for them to advance their relationship. Elliot, on the other hand, was constantly cursing himself for setting up this, now arbitrary seemingly, boundary.
They finally made some progress last night. They went out for an early dinner and stopped at her place for an after-dinner drink. And after she put Noah to bed, they relaxed on her couch.
It was half-way through their second glass of wine when Elliot couldn't keep his eyes off her lips. Her lipstick was nearly worn off from their gentle pecks, but he could see a little tint in the corner of her lips. Grinning, he looked up to her eyes and was surprised that they were stuck on his lips. Taking that as permission, he leaned in with intention. He slipped his hand into her hair at the base of her head, and pulled her to him, slanting his lips over his, he kissed her with an open mouth. Their tongues touched and tangled for a few seconds before he pulled back. He was breathing heavily as he finished his glass and said that he needed to go home. He could feel his body reacting, but Noah was asleep in the other room, so they weren't going to get hot and heavy on her couch tonight.
They shared a second, deep kiss at her door, several seconds longer than their first. His arms wrapped around her waist, her chest pulled tightly against his. He broke from their kiss, breathless, with hopeful (and clearly aroused) eyes. She'd kissed his cheek and parroted his words back to him, "not tonight…but soon." He nodded in understanding and left, touching his fingers to his smiling and damp lips as he rode the elevator down to the lobby.
Olivia rested against the door of her apartment, her shoulders slumped at the fact that another night had passed, and they'd still not even made it to second base. She'd resolved to herself that they were going to take the next opportunity, regardless of whether it's just right, mocking his words in her head. She wanted to sleep with him and it was going to happen soon.
Now Elliot was driving them back to the city after spending the day interviewing a middle-aged woman who was not pleased with their presence or questions. They were only about an hour into their return trip when a thunderstorm sprung up out of nowhere and was pouring down rain.
"Just pull over El," Olivia tells him.
"You know as well as I do that's not safe. Even with our hazards we might not be seen."
"Okay okay, umm…" she trails off thinking, her mind blank on the safest procedure for handling a pop-up rainstorm.
"There!" Elliot shouted, pointing through the windshield and squinting. "Is that a sign? Maybe a gas station?"
She squints, not really able to make out what he's pointing at through the rain pattering on the windshield. "Only one way to find out."
They pulled into a gas station about twenty minutes, twenty long and slow traveling minutes, later.
Elliot rushes into the store, pulling a coat over his head to no use. Olivia waits for him, watching the best she can through the store window but it's all blurry. It takes about 15 minutes before Elliot's rushing back to the car.
"Shit!" he curses as he slams the car door.
"What?"
"The storm is sticking around all night and the roads in town are expected to flood over if they aren't already. Apparently flash floods are a common occurrence in this little shit town during strong rains," he adds, visibly frustrated.
"What the hell are we going to do? Just hang out in the car?" Olivia asks as she looks around the parking lot and then the car, not excited about the prospect of sitting around for the next few hours, she was well beyond her "stake-out" days.
"No, the guy told me there is a hotel about three blocks up the road. I got us food." He points to the bag she hadn't noticed until now.
"Fine, let's go."
Elliot again braves the storm to check them into a room for the night, his clothes soaked and clinging to his body as he parks the car right in front of their room door.
With a last look to each other, they both turn to their doors and rush to the hotel room, Elliot with the bag of food and key in hand to unlock the door as soon as they reach it.
"Oh! It's so cold in here!" Olivia calls through chattering teeth after they burst through the door.
In the five feet between the car and the room door she'd gotten soaked through her clothes. And the cleaning staff, not expecting the sudden drop in temperature, had left the air conditioner on.
Elliot quickly finds the thermostat and switches the AC to heat, sloshing in wet shoes and water dripping into the carpet.
"Dumbasses had the AC blasting under 65 degrees even though it's only 70 degrees outside," he complains, but his thoughts are interrupted by her surprised "El…" called through her shivers.
"Yea, Liv?" he asks, still fiddling with the thermostat.
"Uh, you might want to look," she answers.
Concerned by her tone, thinking something was really wrong with the room, he turns and follows her gaze. His eyes land on the single, full-sized bed.
He laughs, "No way."
"Didn't you ask for a double room?"
"I thought all rooms nowadays were defaulted to two queen beds."
"Not rooms at pay-by-the-hour motels," she informs him with what she believes is common knowledge.
"That's not what this motel…'' he trails off as he looks around, realizing that's exactly what kind of motel this place is. The fake wood paneling, old box tv with rabbit ears resting on top, shag carpet, and a comforter that he'd be afraid to look at under a black light. All that was missing was a quarter machine to vibrate the bed.
Her eyebrow pops and she cocks her head, "How do you do your job?"
He shrugs and answers with a smirk, "I don't know, I grow a beard and punch perps."
"So not much has changed?"
He chuckles, and counters, "I never had a beard before."
"Sometimes you did," she responded with a wiggle of her brows. His smile is short-lived when he notices that her body is still shivering, and the cold is setting deeper and deeper in his skin.
"We need to warm up or we will get sick. Why don't you go take a shower?" Elliot offers, but a dramatic shudder gives away his altruism.
"Come on," Olivia says as she holds her hand out to him and nods her head towards the bathroom.
"What?" He asks dumbly, eyes widening.
"Oh, you are not getting that lucky," she laughs at his deer-in-the-headlights look. "The bathroom will be warmer than out here with the steam, you can sit on the toilet to warm up while I shower."
He nods and takes her hand, letting her drag him into the small bathroom.
Through the years they'd seen each other in several states of undress in the locker room and cribs, even talking to each other through the precinct's shower curtains. But that was over a decade ago and they weren't where they were now—open about their feelings and acting on them. There were people and police policies that protected them from each other, from taking advantage of those moments. But their partnership allowed them to blur boundaries under the guise of trust and work without any real consequences other than their own pain.
"Turn around El and undress. Your clothes are soaked," she instructs as she flips on the shower, twisting the knob so the hot water hits the tub tile.
He turns to face the door, and she can hear the splat of his wet shirts hit the floor before the buckle of his belt clinks. Despite the goosebumps rising across his skin, he's warming up, flushing, at the thought of Olivia undressing and stepping into the tub.
Olivia quickly undresses and pulls her damp hair up on top of her head, fighting the temptation to turn around and watch him. She tosses her underwear and bra on the towel rack and pulls the curtain back. She dares a quick look before she steps into the shower, seeing him facing the door, his broad back bare down to the waistband of his light gray briefs, now dark gray due to the rain. She lets her eyes linger on his ass for a second, molded by the wet fabric, she fully steps into the shower and pulls the curtain closed before she can see him drop his underwear to the floor.
"Okay, El," she yells above the sound of the water, "you can sit on the toilet now."
Grabbing one of the towels, he wraps it around his waist before he sits on the closed lid. He grabs a second towel and lays it over his legs as a makeshift blanket, keeping him warm until the steam does its job. He's still got goosebumps across his arms and chest, his clothes had been soaked through for too long and the cold blast from the room finally settled over him, forcing the wet and cold deeper into his skin. It doesn't help his situation that all of his blood has seemed to move from his core to his core, now that he's had a moment to think about Olivia, naked and wet, only about two feet away.
Olivia stands under the hot spray, letting the water rush over her chilled skin and warm her as she suffers through a few final shivers and shakes. She sees that even this seedy motel has soap, so she takes a moment to suds it in a cloth and run it over her body. Her hair will need to wait, she doesn't want wet hair tonight. It's only damp now because was largely protected from the worst of the rain by the hood on her jacket.
"You're awfully quiet out there, El," she shouts to him again as she rinses the soap off because the quiet is now too much for her to handle. She realizes that she's practically forced him to strip and sit in a tiny room with her while she showered. If it was any other captain and detective duo, the superior officer would be written up and possibly fired for such conduct, despite the rain and cold. She also knew, however, that she and Elliot were not like any other duo. They'd always been close and now, as they were embarking on a romantic relationship, this was something that they could do without feeling weird. But it still felt weird.
"Uh, I'm not sure what the protocol is here," he answers loudly, balling the towel over his crotch to hide his shame at the moment, then rubbing his palms over his arms and then his thighs, the steam finally filling the room. "Whether you want me to talk to you while you're…well while you are in there," he finishes awkwardly.
"You don't have to worry about that much longer," she tells him as she turns off the water and he sees her hand around the curtain, reaching for a towel, "I'm done, so you can get warm in here in a second."
"Do you want me to leave so you can get out?" He offers, silently hoping that she says no, he doesn't want to return to the cool main room without having a chance to warm up first.
"No, just close your eyes for a minute."
Elliot grins then closes his eyes, and then covers them with his hands to remove any temptation to peek. Olivia dries off as quickly as she can with the rough white towel and grabs her underwear and bra, before she steps out.
"Eyes still closed, I'm stepping out of the shower. You can open them when you hear the door shut."
"They are closed, Liv," he assures her. "But I'm not sure what you are worried about, I've seen you in your bra before…you remember, right?"
Olivia pulls the curtain back and steps out onto the dingy rug with the towel wrapped around her body, she sees him sitting on the toilet, his bare chest greets her this time, as entire face is covered by his large hands. Elliot tries and loses his fight against temptation, opening his eyes under his hands and peering through the infinitesimal space between his fingers, only able to see the blurry outline of her and the white of the towel before he closes them again.
"I remember, but that was when I was trying to save your life. And I looked a lot different back then," she replies, still looking at him. She thinks she sees his fingers move, just slightly, but she walks towards the door, her hand on the knob when he speaks quietly, under his breath.
"You look great now, Liv," he assures her.
She smiles as she opens the door and leaves the room. He lowers his hands when he hears the door click and takes a deep breath before he stands.
A shiver wracks his body as he flips on the shower, turning the dial as far towards the "H" as it will go. As he steps into the tub he sees the bubbling bar of soap on the ledge, the wet cloth hanging on the bar, and can smell her in the air, even over the clean scent of the cheap soap.
He grabs a clean rag and the soap to begin his wash. He intentionally avoids his erection, which was making its presence known, not willing to risk making too much noise for the thin walls of the shower nor wanting to leave her alone for too long. Rinsing, he turns his back to the spray and lets the water warm his body. It takes all his effort to continue to breathe deep to calm his body's response to her and his thoughts of her, naked, in the shower just moments ago. Once he feels calm and warm, he flips the tap and grabs a towel to dry off.
The room was a little warmer now, the heat coming from the room's unit was spreading through the small space. Olivia knows that her clothes are still soaked so she's stuck in her underwear. She rests her pants and top over the back of a chair placed in front of the heater before she gets into the bed, propping herself up on the pillows and pulling the sheet and comforter up to her armpits, covering herself the best she can.
She's nervous about this evening. They are stuck in this tiny and dusty room, the heater struggling to keep up with the draft coming in through the window, and they are about to share a full-sized bed. She wishes now, more than ever, that they'd already had sex. Then it wouldn't be so odd sitting half-naked in bed with him. This will be fine, we are both adults, she thinks to herself, it doesn't have to be weird.
Elliot exits the bathroom with a small towel around his waist, the edge barely falling to mid-thigh, and another around his shoulders. "Sorry for my state of undress, Liv," he says gesturing down his body with one hand, the other holding a ball of wet fabric, "My clothes are soaked. I wrung them out over the tub, but I can't put them back on."
"There's another chair at the table," she points to the small round table and two plastic chairs in the far corner of the room, "you can lay them out and put them in front of the heater. Hopefully they will be dry by morning."
He nods and takes his wad of clothes across the room with him. Olivia watches his movements. She's so absorbed in the way the muscles in his back ripple as he lays his clothes out that he catches her looking when he turns around without noticing.
He grins, "Like what you see?" He holds his arms out for a moment and spins in a circle before wrapping them back over his chest and rubs his arms roughly, goosebumps rising over his skin again.
Olivia shrugs coyly despite the blush creeping up her cheeks, "Meh, there are worse sights."
Elliot chuckles and approaches the bed. "So, uh, are you okay with this?" he asks as he waves his hands down his body, his teeth starting to chatter. "I mean, I've only got this towel, but I need to get under the covers before I freeze."
"I don't think we have much of a choice," Olivia answers, swallowing down her slight anxiety.
Taken back by her tense body language, he rubs the back of his head before offering, "I can call the front desk and see if they have another room."
"No, El, this is fine," she assures him, tucking the covers around her body a little more tightly.
"Okay," he nods and reaches for the comforter and slips between the sheets, sneaking the damp towel from around his waist out and dropping it to the floor.
"What now?"
She shrugs, and grabs the remote off her nightstand, "We watch tv, I guess."
"Sounds good to me."
She turns on the old television and flips through the available channels, most are fuzzy due to the storm. But before they can settle on a channel, the whole room goes black and the heater clicks off loudly.
"Well shit," Elliot calls into the darkness.
"Yea," she agrees, "this is not good."
The cold flowing in the gaps around the window and under the door is noticeable now that the sound was not competing with the loud heater. Elliot can feel Olivia shiver next to him and her arms moving to keep her warm.
"This is insane. We are going to freeze to death in here."
"I don't know what else we can do. Our clothes are still wet and there is no way to get extra blankets to our room without them getting soaked on the way here."
"We need to get further under the covers," Elliot says as he lays down in the bed, pulling the covers to his chin. Olivia follows his lead and lays on her back next to him.
He's still cold, the covers are thin, and the air is cooling quickly. He turns his head, not quite able to make out her features, his eyes not adjusted to the dark quite yet. But he thinks that she probably isn't much better off.
"Liv?" Elliot says as his hand finds hers under the blanket, giving it a quick squeeze.
"Hmmm?"
"Don't slap me, but I think we need to get closer," he tells her timidly, "Our body heat will keep us warmer."
Olivia doesn't answer him, but she exhales loudly. She knows he's right. The same thought had just crossed her mind. Closer together their bodies will keep each other warmer than they could do on their own. And, if she's being honest, she doesn't hate the idea of cuddling with Elliot. But she feels very exposed right now in only her underwear.
"Come on, Liv. It doesn't need to be weird." Elliot knows he is lying. Of course it's going to be a little weird. They've never, in their partnership or since he's been back, snuggled together under the covers, let alone while nearly naked.
The window rattles with the thunder and a cold breeze blows across her cheek, making her mind up for her.
"Yea, alright." She huddles down further under the blankets, turning to lay on her side, facing away from Elliot. He follows her movements, turning to face her and moving to the middle of the bed.
His voice is soft, as he reaches for her, his hand landing on her cotton covered hip and he curls his fingers gingerly around her hip bone. "You've got to move back a little, meet me in the middle of the bed."
Olivia scoots back in the bed until she can feel the warmth of his body radiating in the space between them, she's about an inch away from touching him. She's pulled the blankets with her, keeping them tucked under her jaw with one hand. The hand on her hip moves up her body gently until he cups her elbow. Softly, Elliot trails his hand up and down her arm, between her elbow and wrist, tracing a squiggly line on the inside of her forearm with a single finger, leaving goosebumps in his wake.
Noticing the small bumps, he whispers, his lips now close behind her ear, "Are you still cold?"
"No," her answer is equally quiet, airy. She's not cold any more. Their bubble under the covers has warmed significantly in the short time.
Or maybe it's just her.
She can feel arousal starting to flow through body at his gentle touch, raising her temperature with it. She knows where this can go, or at least, where she is going to let it go if he's also willing. She's wanted to be here—in bed, undressed, and touching—with him for a while, and each time they've been halted.
Thinking back to her resolution last night, she has to stop herself from laughing. She can't believe that stupid rain storm will be the catalyst and that it's going to happen in this cheap, crappy motel, on these white, scratchy sheets. It's straight out of a corny, corner-store romance book. Regardless of the location and the completely cliché nature of the evening, she's not going to let this opportunity go to waste, not look this ridiculous gift horse in the mouth.
And if she's not mistaken, neither is he—he is very willing. His palm curls loosely around her bicep, his touch more intentional as he caresses her, up to her shoulder and back down now. He makes three…four…five more passes before his fingers jump from her wrist to the soft, bare skin of her belly. Just the tips of his fingers. They tickle her about an inch above her belly button, tracing the curve her body to hip, then back up to her arm.
She can feel that his body temperature is also increasing, and so is his…arousal. Despite the distance between them she thinks she can feel his body's reaction to their proximity. It's in moments like this that Olivia would thank god, if she believed in her, for allowing women to have subtler signals.
"Is this okay?" he asks as the air between them grows as thick as it is hot. Dear god he hopes it's okay. He wants this, her, so bad. He's been dying to find a way to make this happen for the last month after his colossal mistake of going home after their first date.
"Yes, 's nice," she answers.
"Hmm, it is," he agrees gratefully, burying his nose in her hair that's fanned across the pillow, the tip barely touching the sensitive skin of her neck.
Elliot continues, it could be a minute or ten, following this pattern—shoulder to wrist to belly to hip, up her side to her shoulder, then repeat. She lets herself relax into his touch, his palm is warm and its calluses feel good on her skin. Olivia inhales deeply, ready to let her body sink further into his when she feels his hips pull back suddenly and hears his mumbled apology, a gruff "sorry."
He knows what they are doing, but he doesn't feel right pressing into her, as naked and as hard as he is, without at least saying something first. Getting on the same page about what is happening right now.
Olivia snags his wrist before he pulls his hand off her body completely, tugging him into place. "Don't."
He inhales, surprised by at her reaction. He moves back, closer than before. His chest is pressed gently against her back, she can feel the soft dusting hair tickling her spine. He's hard against her low back.
"You sure?" he has to ask.
Olivia doesn't answer, but takes her hand, firm on the back of his, flattens his palm on her belly and slides their hands up to her breast. They let out a mutual groan when she squeezes his fingers around her covered flesh. Her eyes close and she revels in the feeling of his touch before she curses her past self for not foreseeing this situation and opting for her sexy lace over the comfort of a nude, full coverage and support bra.
When her hand leaves his he traces his thumb over her pebbled nipple still hidden by the soft, cotton material. This time when a shiver runs through her body it has nothing to do with the cold. Elliot nuzzles close, kissing softly up and down her neck, warming her chills with his hot breath. He props himself up on one elbow and returns to her chest. Taking her fully in his palm, squeezing, gripping, massaging her.
Elliot cups her jaw and turns her head, so he can look at her. His eyes are darker than she's ever seen them. "You feel so good, Liv. God, so soft and …," he pants before he finds her lips with his. Their kisses pick from the night before, open mouthed and full of tongue. It's heavy and heady, exciting and full of promise.
They kiss until it's sloppy and they're breathless, his hands have pulled both breasts from their cups and he's fully acquainted with the weight and feel of her. He wants to feel more of her, all of her. He redirects his hand, flat against her belly with fingers downward, tracing the edge of her underwear, he lifts his lips from hers just enough to ask "Yea?".
She sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling roughly, before answering, "Yes, please…"
She moans in his mouth when he traces a thick finger over her center—it's all he can fit in the tight space between her legs given their spooning position—he catches it and swallows it down, refusing to leave her lips for another second. He increases the pressure with each pass until she's writhing beneath him, begging for more. He grins into the kiss then he finally lets a single fingertip circle around her clit.
"God…Elliot." She readjusts her legs, giving him more space to work.
His eyes had adjusted to the dark room and he can see that she's let the blanket slip down her body some, the tops of her breasts are visible, but the rest of her body is still covered. The sight of his hand moving under the covers thrills him. He can't help himself from grinding softly against her back.
Elliot focuses on her clit for a minute, learning the pattern and pressure she likes, guided by her soft pants and whimpers. He reaches his middle finger to her entrance and circles. She's damp, but not quite wet enough to let him in, so he returns to her clit.
"Lay back baby," he instructs, scooting back just enough to give her space to roll towards him. She's surprised at how hot his naked skin is against her side, hot and smooth. She can feel him growing harder at her side, solid and silky, and a collection of precum pooling against her hip.
He's restricted to one hand from his position on his elbow, so he leans in, tracing his teeth down her neck, stopping to suck a soft mark spot when a soft "oh," escapes her lips. He keeps kissing, nosing the covers down, until he finds her nipple, sucking it into his mouth. Her hand finds the back of his head, holding him to her chest.
He reaches to her entrance again, pressing his finger into her to his first knuckle, grinning when he can feel her growing hot and wet around him, before pulling back and returning to her clit, the pads of two fingers flatten and rub right circles.
"God baby…you feel so good, getting so wet for me," he murmurs in her ear, sliding his middle finger back to her and pressing all the way in, feeling her stretch around him. He grinds into her hip, desperate for some friction. She's not as wet as he wants yet, so he knows he's going to have to wait a little longer before he can bury himself inside of her.
He nibbles at her earlobe, and kisses down her jaw, "I wanna taste you, Liv…can I taste you?"
"Fuck…El…" she moans.
"Is that a yes," he asks needlessly as her legs fall open even wider and he shoves the blankets off her body and adjusts himself between her hips. The cool air is now refreshing on their heated skin.
"Yes El, it's gonna be a yes to all your questions," she says, scooting up on the pillows, giving him room to move and to give her a view. Quickly, she unsnaps her bra and lets it fall onto the floor.
His grin is ornery when he wiggles his brow and asks, "To all of my questions?"
Again, Olivia doesn't answer him but shakes her head and starts pushing at his shoulders.
"Oh, she's eager," he teases as he lays between her legs, after pulling her underwear off her feet, his body so broad that he rests on thigh over his shoulder rather than stretching her hips too wide. "So am I," he winks before he looks down.
He wishes they weren't stuck in the dark because he wants to see her, really see her. His eyes have adjusted, but he can't see everything he wants—the exact shade of her skin, her moisture glistening as it comes to greet him, the way that her curls will lay on her damply, or her clit peeking out from its hood.
Next time, he thinks as he uses the fingers on one hand to feel her and open her up to him. He has the lay of the land in no time. His tongue laps up her center a few times before focusing on her entrance, circling a few times, then pushing in. He groans loudly when he her taste floods his tongue, muttering to himself "perfect, fucking perfect," before diving back in. His nose nudges her clit, indirect and inconsistent, while his current focus is his tongue and getting her as wet as possible.
She's somewhat surprised that Elliot's this talkative, but she's not sure why. They've always had this easy banter—sexy and provocative—and she knows that he's not a stranger to dirty words or deeds, having worked for years and years in a profession that has introduced him to a whole wide world of sex and kink. Maybe it's because he's so religious and was married for nearly 40 years to a woman Olivia can only describe as vanilla, but she'd expected him to be a little more subdued. More like a choir boy—Ayanna had told her about Flutura's comments upon her arrest several months ago, when they went out for drinks after a case that overlapped OC and SVU, and only after swearing Olivia to secrecy.
"God, Liv. I could do this forever, lick you and suck you for days. You taste so fucking good."
She's never been happier to be wrong, reveling at the words that flowed from his lips as they ratchet up her arousal.
He licks a slow and wide stripe up to her clit, letting his tongue try several different patterns and pressures, trying to mimic the rhythm his finger found before. When he gets it, she moans, "right there," and her hand grips the back of his head.
Jackpot.
He's sucking on her clit when he hears her mutter something else, but he can't figure it out. He knows it's important by the way her hips are canting against his face.
He looks up at her, seeing her head flat on the pillow, and he thinks her eyes are squeezed shut, but he groans under his breath when he sees one of her hands squeezing her own breast, teasing her own nipple, then asks, "What? What do you need, baby?"
"Fingers," she groans, gritting her teeth, "your fingers, two. And stop calling me baby."
He grins, even though she's answering him, she's not going to let everything slide.
"You got it, Olivia" he answers and returns his mouth to her clit, easily finding the pattern he just held. He slides his middle finger into her slowly, but he hears her whine and say what he thinks is "two." He quickly pulls out his finger, adds his ring finger and pushes back in.
Testing her stretch, her readiness, he thrusts gently a few times before keeping them in and stroking, using his pointer finger and pinky to add pressure to the side of her center.
"Like that?"
"Hmmmm," she whines, her hips rolling against his hand.
He sucks on her clit and pushes his fingers in, stroking as he pulls them out. She's wet enough that he can thrust his fingers easily and she gets loud and desperate. Elliot loves how vocal she is, and he can't wait to see what other noises she'll make for him, right now, though, he's on a mission to make her come because he's dying to be inside her. And the sheets feel horrible on his sensitive skin.
He's been so hard for too long. Resisting himself in the shower did nothing but increase the intensity of this erection, hard and pulsing. It only takes a few more rhythmic pushes of his fingers and sucks on her clit before her thighs clamp down over his ears and her hand on the back of his head holds him steady. Her body quakes around him and she's crying out into the dark and cold room.
"Yes…ah! Shit, El…yes!" then her words give way to more natural sounds of pleasure.
They are lucky that the storm is still blowing outside, or the residents of the other room would easily hear her, hear him making her come. He keeps up his movements until her body loosens around him, her back returns to the mattress and her hand cups the base of his head, pulling him up.
He places wet, sloppy kisses up her body, stopping to suck on her nipples quickly, before he gets to her face, grinning like a fool. "Hi," he says happily.
Meeting his smile, she huffs a soft and relaxed, "Hey you."
"That was a nice first," he says as he drops his hips, settling himself against her, still hot and wet, and if he concentrates, he thinks he can feel her tremor under his erection, or maybe that's him. His blood is pumping hard and fast in his veins, his cock throbbing against her skin.
"Meh…" she shrugs, taunting him.
"Hey now!" he kisses one cheek then the other, "My ego is fragile, Liv."
Olivia cups his cheeks, ready to pull his mouth to hers, "I know, but I can't let you get complacent already."
"Never, not with you," he answers, more seriously than their joking tone calls for. Her breath stops in her throat, her wide eyes meet his, and she nods.
"It's the same for me, El. I'm so ready for this, us," she promises. His heart swells. They've been together for a month, but they've been careful, almost as if they were afraid that if they pushed too far or too fast that the ground would crumble beneath them. This is the first time she's been this direct with him.
He can't wait any longer, he shifts to one side and grips his base with one hand, angling his erection down, "And for this?" he asks with a quick nod downwards.
"So ready," she assures him, her arms tightening around his shoulders.
He presses forward, his thick head penetrating her. She pulls his face down, kissing him, open mouthed and her tongue begs for entrance. She gets it when he groans, pressing in another inch, then two…three…and then all the way with a quick thrust, unable to resist the call of her body, so hot, wet, and tight.
"Fuck, El…"
"Sorry," he grunts, not sorry at all, trying to find her mouth again, but ends up half kissing her cheek and jaw.
"No, god…no you feel so good." Olivia plants her feet on the mattress, pressing her hips into his, pulling him in as deep as she can. She can't believe that she's gone her entire life without this, without him like this. For years it felt as if he occupied so much of her heart, her mind, and her thoughts. Now he occupies actual space in her and it feels like the world has finally righted itself.
"Fuck, so do you. So do you, Liv."
Without any thought at all, his hips start moving as if his body is answering a higher calling. He finds a slow, deep rhythm, keeping their bodies as close together as he can. He doesn't want any space between them, not any more. He does his best to grind against her, knowing that will help increase her pleasure.
Her hands dance over his back, scratching down the length of his spine until they dig into his ass at a particularly deep thrust.
Elliot can tell that he's doing something well. Olivia's breath is ragged when she gasps his name, "El," against his shoulder, her face is tucked into his neck. She feels so good under him, her skin soft and smooth, but he wants to see her.
He finds her lips and gives her a quick smooch, sucking on her bottom lip, before he pushes up onto his knees. Her hands trail along his hips, sliding around to his front, tracing the deep V between his hips, still visible even though he's gotten a little thicker in the last six months or so. Not that she's complaining, she's been attracted to him for as long as she's known him, and she can recall several times in his partnership when he'd fill out his shirts and jeans more thickly than before. She likes the extra weight on his body and how, knowing it feels on hers, heavy and solid, but soft when his belly pressed against hers.
And he feels so good, so big and deep like this. It's never felt this good.
"I needed to see you Liv…gotta see what you look like when I fuck you," he pants crudely, telling her why he'd moved as he snaps his hip forward.
His hands roam her body, up and down, squeezing anywhere he can, which is everywhere. His eyes can't focus on one spot, distracted by the way her breasts bounce with each thrust of his hips and then pulled to the way her stomach moves and her thighs shake around his hips.
"Just like I thought, so damn sexy."
She tries to chuckle but comes out on a whiny exhale, "You're no slouch either," she teases as her nails dig into his thighs, pulling him to her roughly.
Olivia feels his hips falter a few times and opens her eyes to see his squeeze tight and his head fall back with a grunt. Blindly his hand searches for her clit, roughly finding the general area before he tries to rub circles.
She covers his hand with her own, directing his fingers and the tempo until it's just right. "You close, El? You gonna come for me?"
He grunts again, nodding, "So close Liv…please…you?"
"Almost there,"
He grits his teeth to hold out, but to no avail. He drives in hard, forcing himself as deep as he can go before he erupts on a low, deep growl. His hands pull her hips to his roughly, his fingers digging into her flesh as he shudders. The sound of him, the feel of him pulsing hot and deep, all of it sends her over the edge for a second time. This time her legs lock around his hips and her back arches off the mattress as heat and pleasure flood her body.
He collapses over her, catching himself and resting on his elbows, but letting his lips find hers for the millionth time that night. He can't believe that just last night was their first deep kiss, and now, it feels so natural to have his breath mingle with hers, his naked skin flush with hers, to be inside her, seeking and giving pleasure.
"Liv—"
A loud click and flood of light and noise interrupts their post-coital haze. The electricity has returned, the heater blowing loudly, the television—still fuzzy—playing some old western in the background, and the lamp on her night stand lit again.
For the first time they really get a good look at each other. Her hair rumpled and her lips red and swollen. Beads of sweat visible through the soft sprouts of gray hair cover his head and his chest and neck just as red as her lips. Both of their eyes wide in shock and pupils still slightly dilated from their activities.
She's the first to laugh and he follows. Flopping himself onto the bed next to her his belly rises and falls with each deep chuckle.
"Oh my god…," she huffs through her laughter, "I never would have thought—"
"That our first time would be in a pay-by-the-hour motel."
"Exactly! Though, if you hadn't been a chicken, we'd been doing this for over a month now."
"Hey! I thought I was being a gentleman," he argues, "You know, polite and not pressuring you…waiting."
"Meh, we had already waited too long."
"You're right, but we aren't waiting too long to do it again, right?" He asks as he rolls towards her and places his hand on her stomach, rubbing seductively.
"Calm down boy, you aren't 20 and neither am I. We are going to have to wait a little while."
He scoffs at her, "You'd be surprised what I'm capable of when it comes to you."
"Well you might be just fine, but I need a minute."
"I'm only joking, Liv. I just meant…"
"I know what you meant. And I agree, we are not going to wait forever to do that again."
He smiles at her and lays back down, pulling the sheet back up their bodies, resting it at their hips. Despite what he said, he does need a moment—or two or three—to let his body rest and recover.
A few moments later, Olivia breaks their silence, "Rollins thought it would be."
"What?" he asks, confused.
"Oh nothing," Olivia waves him off, "A while back Rollins told me to go get a hotel room with you and work it out of our systems."
Elliot reaches for her hand, taking it and squeezing it gently. "Sounds like you are losing a very smart detective then."
"I am, but she's going to do something else that's great."
"She is, and most of it is a credit to you Liv," he tells her as he strokes her palm.
Olivia can feel herself welling up and this is not the topic she wants to discuss right now. "Alright, alright, I don't want to get sad right now."
"How about getting wet?"
"El!"
He chuckles again, "What? I need a shower. What were you thinking?"