Olivia was warm and full from the amazing roast chicken dinner Trevor had treated her to. She sighed with contentment as she finished her wine and leaned back in her chair.
"Thank you," she smiled at him, "I'm truly thankful to you going to so much effort for dinner. I would say that I could repay you, but… I know I couldn't measure up to that."
Trevor smiled, folding his arms on the table top, leaning in closer to her. Despite the large, rectangular table made from exposed timber, they huddled around one small area of it, Trevor at the head and Olivia to his direct right, close to the corner; more importantly, close to him.
"You're welcome, Liv, I'll make dinner for you anytime," he replied, "I have to be honest, it's actually really nice to have someone to cook for."
"Watch what you say, I'll be calling you every night instead of UberEats," she joked.
The wine had reached Trevor's head and he was feeling a wonderful mixture of infatuation and happiness. He had to admit even to himself, his dinner was a smash.
"Want me to teach you to cook?" he asked, a little twinkle in his eyes.
Olivia smiled at him, "it depends, will you start expecting home cooked meals?" she teased him, "cos I'm not that kind of girlfriend."
He laughed as her cheeks heated up realizing what she'd said out loud. They'd been dancing around the subject of their relationship meaning anything beyond casual.
He was okay with it, she needed time, he wasn't necessarily looking in to rushing in to anything either, but he was a little thrilled that she had blurted out the thought that was in her head and as much as he tried to deny his feelings, they were growing at an alarming rate.
In his own time, he had played with the idea of being in love with Olivia – it didn't scare him; it didn't concern him about the ways in which their relationship could run in to problems, so he knew he was comfortable with the idea that it was slowly happening.
"You're too busy to have a man expecting dinner, I'm not that crazy, but cooking can be kind of stress-relieving, might be something fun to do with Noah, you said he liked cooking when we went to dinner," he shrugged.
"Okay, you can teach me," she was persuaded; any activity with Noah that didn't require technology was fine by her. "That'd be nice."
"Okay, next time you come over, you can help me and I'll teach you as we go," he nodded decisively. "I'll just clear the dishes and then we can hang out somewhere more comfortable if you like…"
"Sure," Liv smiled, getting up. "I'll help,"
"No, it'll just take a moment, please—" he insisted, not wanting her to have to lift a finger.
"I feel embarrassed; you're all moving around the kitchen like somebody's hot chef and I'm just here being a disappointing housewife sloth…" she joked.
Trevor paused as he lifted the empty plate from before her and leaned over, "don't be silly," he said. A waft from his cologne hit her at once, almost dizzying her as he towered right over her, lowering his face toward hers for a soft kiss. "I love waiting on New York's most celebrated," he said with a wink.
Olivia almost visibly shivered as he drew away, allowing her a second to catch herself. He spooned the leftovers on to a small plate and covered it and put it in to the refrigerator.
"Are you sure I can't do anything?" she asked him, getting up from the table, bringing across their empty glasses of wine.
"Sure… you can do something, you can take a seat and be quiet and let someone else take care of you for once."
She chuckled at his sweetness. "Besides," he added, "I'm almost done here."
Once he was finished leaving the baking tray to soak, he wiped his damp hands on the dish towel and hung it up out of the way. He paused for a moment and turned to her; "would you like a glass of scotch?" he asked.
She wondered if he was a little nervous; she was, but she realized that they'd put a lot of pressure on one another since their earlier conversation. "Sure okay, on the rocks?"
"Is there any other way?" he replied, reaching to an overhead cupboard and taking out a liquor bottle. He moved about, getting glasses and some ice and filled their glasses partway.
"C'mon," he nodded, "grab your glass." They headed back out toward the front door where there had been a flight of stairs that she guessed led to his bedroom and private living spaces.
"Where are we going?" she asked curiously.
"We'll take your overnight bag upstairs and I'll show you the nicer parts of my apartment."
"Oh yeah, cos the rest of it looks like you're living in a frigging slum," she rolled her eyes.
He laughed at her cynical jokes. He picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder. He took her hand and tugged her arm back toward the stairs.
Olivia looked around Trevor's huge bedroom, or what he referred to as his living space. She shook her head in disbelief as her eyes lingered over the floor-to-ceiling glass window that looked out over Manhattan in a similar way to his hotel back in Chicago.
Everything reeked of affluence which she shouldn't have been surprised about since everything downstairs seemed to smell like old money. Now that it occurred to her, it was evident in the way he dressed, the way he carried himself, cloaked in power and class.
The only thing missing was, in her experience, the self-entitlement and superior attitude.
"What's wrong?" Trevor asked her, watching her tense up a little.
She shook her head from her thoughts.
The room was huge, bigger than his living room downstairs. The view was nothing short of magical, but her shock seemed to overtake her ability to admire it. There was a little area against the wall with a copper tray full of alcohol which she almost laughed at. She knew it now, Trevor Langan loved his top-shelf alcohol.
A fucking mahogany maiz-canapé day bed strategically placed in the middle of the room.
"Wow, you really are James Bond…" she murmured, feeling a bit weird.
"No," he said quickly, "it's not-" he paused and looked around as if the thought suddenly dawned on him, "it's too much, isn't it? Do I look like a pompous asshole?"
"No," she replied timidly, "just… we talked about you having money but, I guess I didn't expect you to be living like a millionaire," she replied delicately, not wanting to insult him.
"I feel like a prick," he remarked, his shoulders slumped a little. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm showing off-"
"No-" Olivia cut him off, she felt bad, "No, it's not you, I'm sorry, this is beautiful, Trevor, really, but I've just never been in a place like this before that hasn't been for a job so forgive me if I'm acting like a regressed peasant girl," she cracked a smile finally.
"If it helps, this was all done with my father's money – small price to pay for being an abusive asshole his whole life until finally trying to apologize and make good before he left the world… my mother used to tell me that it was his way of making reparations for being an emotionally and physically absent father."
She listened attentively, "he must have done well in the restaurant business," she replied.
"I can say many things about my father but one of the more positive things was that he was an incredible businessman; our family ended up with a chain of European fusion restaurants before it was really a thing, he sold them off and began to invest in anything that he knew would have longevity…stocks, property, people, everything."
"Wow…" Olivia murmured.
She took measured steps to the grand window, watching the traffic below and the entire New York skyline before her. It had started to light up as it grew darker outside. She peeled her eyes away from the city through the sheer curtain and turned back to him.
His forehead was wrinkled with concern.
He was still holding on to his drink as was she. "I'm sorry for having a weird reaction," she smiled, "I was just a little surprised but if I had the money my apartment would look like some palatial James Bond-type shit," she joked with him, meeting him back in the middle of the room. "Nice view, by the way…"
"Thanks..." he said, feeling his tension ease slightly. "You know, I never meant to make you feel bad or like-"
"No," she flashed him a smile, "I don't feel bad. I feel very lucky to be added to the list of women who've seen this gorgeous private space of yours."
"You're the first one," he told her bluntly, "there's no list," he added.
"Bullshit," Olivia chuckled, "its okay, Trevor-"
"Seriously," he chuckled at her disbelief, "I don't shit where I sleep," he laughed in spite of himself, "Besides my daughter you're the only one who's been in here besides me, I haven't really had much female company at all since Helena and I split up, so…"
"Well, I'm honored then..." she replied, flicking her eyes up to meet his.
She thought for a second and laughed at his comment that had only just registered, "you don't shit where you sleep….that's funny, you're funny." she repeated it and began to laugh more.
Trevor couldn't help but join her, realizing how shitty it sounded. "C'mon, what else, show me what else…"
He nodded toward a sliding door, closed against the wall. "This is my bathroom, it's cheesily opulent so I'm sorry but my ex wife designed all of… this, cos I have no idea about this kind of stuff."
Olivia shrugged, "I think its nice that you still have a good relationship where she can still help you with these sorts of things…" she remarked as the he opened the door and motioned for her to go inside.
Everything was pristine and from a distance looked immaculately clean. "How do you manage to keep this so spotless?" she asked him bluntly, "I mean, with a kid I do my best, but even before Noah…"
He laughed, "I'm kind of … a little bit of a neat freak," he admitted, "I can't relax if I know the bathroom is seedy – I do have a cleaner who comes once a week too and she was only here yesterday so…"
Olivia smiled and glanced at the large bathtub at the far wall with the serving table beside it and a roomy surface along the wall for placing items. Inside of the tub was a bath pillow for him to rest his head on. It was a longer and wider than a normal tub but she still couldn't imagine him in all of his 6'5" glory to be able to sit comfortably in it – it reminded her a little of the bath they'd taken in Chicago.
He was cramped but he didn't complain.
"You've never used that bath, have you?" she asked with a cheeky grin.
He laughed as she turned to him, "Nope, but who knows? I might start if I was in the right company…" he nudged her with his shoulder gently and took a sip of his drink. She gave the bathroom a last glance and turned, still taken-aback by the set-up he had.
She followed him back out in to the bedroom.
Of course his maiz canapé faced the city view with a tiny matching table by the head of it – for drinks of course.
"Do you sit over here?" she asked, making her way over, putting her drink down on a coaster.
"Sure, sometimes…" he replied, picking up what looked like a remote control and came to sit beside her, placing his drink down too.
"Let's see if I can get this to work and show you how cheesy I can be…" he chuckled to himself. Olivia glanced over his shoulder at the remote as he pressed a button that showed a little picture of a light. After pressing that, he pushed a button with a down arrow.
Olivia began to laugh as the light dimmed right down until it was low and moody. "Oh my goodness, Trevor, is that your move?" she asked despite the fact that it was strangely working.
"Yes," he grinned at her, "is it working?"
"A little, not gonna lie," she shrugged, picking up her drink again to sip it. He lifted the remote and hit another button and the sheer curtain slid across the rail so that they could better take in the view.
Olivia smiled broadly; there was nothing she loved more than the city at night. It was an incredibly impressive view. He set the remote down on the small table.
"I know some people hate being in the city but…" she sighed contentedly, "there is nothing more beautiful to me than a view like this…" her voice trailed wistfully.
Trevor watched her, uninhibited and not noticing his stare in the slightest. She was captivated by the bright lights and the high rises and monuments that surrounded them. He rested his free hand on his own knee that he felt pressing against hers. He slid his hand across, letting his pinky graze across the exposed skin at the hem of her dress.
Olivia almost jumped a mile, glancing down at his digit drawing a line across her skin. She looked back at him, his eyes watching his own hands for a moment too before they met back with hers. It was almost like he was preparing for her to protest, but there was no way in hell she would have wanted anything other than his hands all over her body.
She took a long gulp of her scotch, she needed to loosen up, she wanted to be completely at ease with him, not letting any of the stupid insecurities that plagued her take over.
"Take it easy…" he said softly in a gentle command, "As much as I love buzzed, Liv, I really don't want you to get sleepy on me," he half-smiled. She noticed up close how crooked his smile was, how his upper lip turned upward in to a curl when he smiled without teeth.
"I'm a little nervous," she replied with honesty.
"About what?" he asked, "there's no pressure here Liv," he assured her, "I would never want you to feel like that."
She smiled at him, lifting her hand to hold his cheek in her palm, "it's just been awhile, I know we had that thing in Chicago but -," she paused, feeling her face redden as she let her last two fingers graze the shell of his ear. "you know, its different when you're-"
"I know," he cut her off, his voice lowering a couple of octaves as their words passed through the very small space between their lips. She was glad he didn't make her say the words out loud- she wouldn't have been sure exactly how to pose them – fucking was far too crass to say out loud to a man as classy as Trevor and it lowered the bar of what was between them. Having sex? Maybe… but it was kind of clinical, she thought. But were they making love? She almost cringed at the expression and the idea of having to say it.
"But, if it feels like too much pressure, its fine, I just want you to know that I don't have any expectations," he continued.
He wasn't sure about what her past traumas had left her with; he was unsure if sex was ever triggering for her since the monster, he wasn't even sure exactly what had taken place between them in that beach house. He knew that she might eventually open up to him about it, but he knew by nature what her limits were and when he should or shouldn't push something with her.
"Thanks," she replied, "but it's fine, you're fine, I have thought about being in your bed every single night since Chicago, even when I was mad at you…"
He chuckled, feeling himself awaken a little down below. "Oh, really?" he drew his head back in surprise and rose an eyebrow at her.
She laughed lightly and her cheeks heated up with bashfulness, "maybe a little…"
"What exactly were you thinking about, Benson?" he teased, knowing she would never have the nerve to share her inner-most sexy thoughts with him.
"I dunno, just… reliving that incredible night, I guess…" she averted her eyes shyly, almost regretting the words falling out of her mouth.
"Did it end the same way?" he pressed, letting his fingertips graze the inside of her thigh, disappearing just slightly beneath her dress and tracing their way back to her knees, repeating his motion over and over which was starting to make it hard for her to concentrate.
"What? With me falling asleep?" she shot back jokingly, "yes, eventually…"
He chuckled, "I meant, with an orgasm," he smirked cockily and she knew that he was also kidding – but probably half-serious if she wanted to enter in to that type of conversation.
She laughed. His grin widened. "I'm always at work, always tired and then I have to parent my kid – I don't have time for that," she replied honestly. She couldn't remember the last time she had taken some … personal time.
"Maybe you need to make some time… for me and for that," he retorted, twisting his body so that he was facing her; he rested his hand on the outside of her thigh, letting his finger tips dance upon her skin. He could see the goose bumps raising upon her flesh and knew that she took no issue with it.
"Maybe…" she replied with a little shrug.
She turned her body too, his maiz-canape was nothing but a glorified day bed but unfortunately not half as comfortable. She eased against the back of it. Trevor scooted a little closer and let his eyes fall over her face, trying to get a feel for how she was thinking or feeling. He couldn't help but let the trace of a smile tug ever-so-slightly at the corners of his mouth.
He couldn't believe how beautiful she was. He crawled up alongside her, barely fitting. He was so tall that his legs hung over the edge. Olivia no longer felt intruded upon by his intense stare; she liked it, it was the look of adoration, of want and probably the same kind of overwhelming tangle of feelings that was consuming her.
"I like you…" he said finally. She turned her body inward to face him, linking her ankle over his calf. She smiled, resting her hand on his cheek.
"I like you," she replied simply.
"No…" he breathed his words out slowly, letting his eyes search hers, "I don't want to scare you off Captain Benson, but I really like you."
She looked away from him momentarily, averting her eyes from his face, unsure of what to say. She knew what he was holding back, but she wasn't sure if she could allow herself to freefall in to such a place without a proper footing on her emotions.
"How do you feel?" he pushed and she felt guilty about the raw reluctance in his tone; it was posed a question that he was almost too afraid to ask but really wanted to know the answer to.
She flicked her eyes up to meet his again, knowing that he was anticipating her reaction; she could feel the nervous energy emanating from him. She started to say something a few times before stopping and closing her mouth.
Trevor looked away, she knew he was disappointed even if he didn't say it. "Its alright," he said, "you don't have to say anything-"
"I'm trying," she said, smoothing his rough cheek with her thumb, "please don't take my silence as lack of feeling for you," she added. "I'm just-" she let out a short, frustrated sigh; with herself, for not being able to communicate herself.
"I know," his voice was as soft as a whisper, "I know, Liv, its alright," he said again, meeting her eyes again.
She stared at him, feeling her emotions creeping up on her, making her feel self-conscious and embarrassed that she wasn't even able to say the words; that she couldn't push them off the edge of her tongue and let them hang in the air as bravely as he did. "I can't do what you can, say something and not worry about the repercussions."
He finally smiled, "Liv, I'm worried about the repercussions. I'm scared you won't feel the same. Hell, I'm scared I've just said too much and you'll think I'm too much… but I'm just- the not knowing what you're feeling is worse than the fear of how my words could bite me in the ass- but I don't say that to put pressure on you, I just want to be as transparent as I can be."
Olivia felt his hand on her waist, his fingers pressing gently in to the small of her back. "I know you're just trying to find out where you stand and my feelings are there, I really like you. I'm not even thinking about anyone else," she murmured, "but please be patient with me-" she paused blinking back what felt like to be tears. It didn't go unnoticed to Trevor either, he noticed that she was becoming emotional.
"I'm sorry," he said, "I don't want to upset you—it's too much, I'm being too much."
"No," she said firmly, "it's perfectly okay to expect the woman you've been seeing to know where she's at … and I do, I know where I'm at Trev, but I just haven't had to do this in so long and truthfully I've never been very good at any of it."
"I think…" he began, "you're too hard on yourself, you're too self-conscious of what you think I might feel rather than just trusting me not to judge you…"
She drew in a deep breath and lifted her hand from his cheek and covered her face, trying to not feel frustrated with herself. "There's a cycle of men I date," she began, "there's almost a clock set by it," she explained, "we get past the fun honeymoon phase and its either they don't want to hear about my emotions and we got along just fine, or they pretend they do and then I fall in to the trap of feeling like I can be vulnerable and then that's not right either… and inevitably, Trevor, everyone leaves and I'm scared that that's what this is going to be."
Her words hung in the air just as she had expected them to – her big verbal vomit; vulnerable in itself and embarrassing to admit, but she was proud that it was out there. She wanted some assurance, some promise that he was not that guy.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked, not trying immediately to fix it or placate her. He genuinely needed to know how he could help her get past it.
"I don't know…" she thought, "just…" she finally drew her hand away and he could see tears welling. One escaped and ran down the side of her face. She reached up and wiped it away. "Promise me that you're not that guy… I don't want to make the same mistakes again and again, I have a son, I don't want to subject him to that."
"I'm not that guy, Olivia," he said simply, "I promise and I know it seems like its pretty easy for me to say that, but I say it with great confidence."
Inherently she felt that he was being honest, but her innate feelings didn't always make it the case. He reached up and took her face in his large, warm hands, steadying her so she looked him in the eye, "hey," he said firmly, "I mean it, I am not that guy," he spoke each word as if the sentence was fragmented. "I want you to be vulnerable with me, I want to hear about your feelings, I don't want you to be afraid to cry in front of me, Olivia… I don't want you to constantly apologize for yourself."
"Well good…" she managed a chuckle, "cos I'm trying but I can't stop my eyes from watering…"
He managed an affectionate smile, hating that she had been royally traumatized by the men before him.
He brushed his lips hers softly and slow to pull away. "I'm gonna be honest, I'm fully invested here and I will live up to what I believe is a real man; that's someone who is here to fall in love with you and support you and listen to you. I'm a fucking grown up, sweetheart," he spoke deliberately but gently, wanting to follow up his words with an explanation, "I'm not scared of tears and if I didn't want to deal with emotions, I'd be looking for an emotionally immature man to date."
At this, Olivia choked a sob and a burst of laughter at the same time. He smoothed her hair absently as he spoke to her. "All of the things that's happened that have led up to who you are today; they can be hard to talk about and hard to deal with, but part of being in a couple is that you don't have to shoulder them alone anymore…"
She nodded slowly. "And," he added, "anything that you've ever wanted to get off your chest, you should be able to do that without fear of reprisal…" he smiled finally, "I'm not saying that we're in a relationship, I realize this is going to be a slow burn but I'm totally here for it…" he kissed her again, "but I am saying that if someone were to ask me what I was doing on a day that I was seeing you, I'd probably say I'm hanging out with my girlfriend."
Olivia laughed. "Trevor…" she began, "this is me trying;" she began, clearing her throat, "I really really like you – and I have a lot of confidence in where we are heading. I can't seem to get enough of you and I haven't felt this way about anyone for…" she paused, she didn't want to say Elliot's name, but she knew that he got the hint. "a long, long time," she finished.
"That's enough for me," he replied, raking his fingers through the waves in her hair. "But I'm not going to stop telling you how I feel about you and I'm totally comfortable if it takes you a bit longer…"
"Thank you for saying all of that," she told him softly, "I know I have problems with my feelings, you know, saying them out loud, but eventually I'll get there; I just don't want you to be impatient, but I also don't expect you to wait forever."
"Stop overthinking things, Olivia," he replied, "I don't need you to tell me about patience, I have the patience of a saint," he winked.
Olivia's heart felt full – she knew her affections were growing, she knew it would bloom in to something more but she just needed to take it slowly and she could tell that he truly did understand that; neither of them were looking to get hurt anytime soon.
"Can you do something for me?" she asked.
"Of course," he smiled, "anything…"
She felt weird even requesting something so needy. "Could you just … hug me?"
A sweet grin spread across Trevor's face as if her request was music to his ears. "Sorry that you had to ask…" he murmured, opening his arms up to her. She scooted in close and circled her own around his waist and felt him settle around her, enveloping her within his embrace, their legs in a tangle. He gave her a firm squeeze, trying to communicate his adoration between their bodies.
Trevor had all but accepted sex was off the table. He was okay with it; he would have preferred to have this version of Olivia – the vulnerable one who was a little more open with feelings as opposed to the Olivia who would rather rip his clothes off to avoid a serious conversation.
"Do you want to get in to bed?" he asked her.
It wasn't very late, but she was usually so tired she would crash out not long after Noah.
"Is it comfortable for you for us to stay here?" she asked, drawing away from him. "I like looking at the city…" she admitted, "I find it really comforting, as stupid as that sounds."
"No, it's fine… I just thought you might want to get changed or get comfortable but … if you're happy here and comfortable in your dress."
Olivia smiled at him. "I'm not exactly comfortable in my dress…" she replied, igniting a little hint at something he truly wasn't expecting."
"Oh really?" he asked, his interest well and truly piqued. His eyebrow was arched in question. "Is this like the time you wore that hot little leather skirt and you needed to get it off just to feel more comfortable?"
Olivia considered it and started to laugh, "what was I even thinking?"
"You were thinking…" he stared at the ceiling, feeling a little lighter of heart, "I really have a big fat crush on that superhuman of a man, Trevor Langan, what could I possibly wear that will completely stun him?"
She hit him playfully. "Yeah right, sometimes I buy clothes and I have these optimistic thoughts about how its going to make me look hot and then all I can think about is getting home to get it off to set fire to it."
Trevor expelled a peel of laughter in to the air. "I feel sorry for females at times when it comes to all that stuff, all I gotta do is throw on some jeans and a clean shirt and put in the minimal amount of effort and I'm set… but the heels, the tight clothes, the make up.. the hair, don't get me wrong, I'd be lying to say I didn't enjoy admiring you in tight clothes and heels… but, it's work right?"
She smiled, finding his hand between them and taking it, bringing it up under her chin. "I like to look nice, or at least I try… but some days its outta control with the maintenance."
Trevor shrugged, "well, I don't want you to be uncomfortable around me, I think you look hot with or without make up and with or without clothes," he joked, with a laugh at himself.
"I'll bet…" she replied, her eyes lingering over her, "but… I managed to circumvent your question," she told him, "and the answer is, I'd more comfortable if I wasn't in my dress…"
"Well babe, that can be arranged…" he replied, his voice getting low. He let go of her hand and reached around behind her, gliding his hands firmly over the material of her dress up to the zipper at the neckline. "Would hate for you to feel restricted," he told her, aligning his lips with hers, brushing them across her mouth, guiding them apart to taste the traces of alcohol on her tongue.
She felt him slowly tugging the zipper down; a breeze of air hitting the skin where the material had parted. She felt a little more relaxed; a mixture of the alcohol and the relief of being able to air some of her feelings did the job.
The shoulders of her dress loosened a little, pooling forward at the front. His hands slipped beneath the material, riding up to her shoulder, pushing the dress forward and the sleeves down her arms so that she could free herself from it.
Trevor loved the feel of Olivia's soft silky skin. He let his eyes fall closed as he tasted her tongue again. She leaned in to it, trying to get more of his mouth. He swirled his tongue around hers expertly, careful not to be too eager but it was hard not to think about getting her in to his bed and finishing off the job he began back in Chicago.
"Mmmm," she murmured in to his mouth, savoring his kisses but wanting more. She pulled an arm from the sleeve of the dress, feeling awkward about the way the material halfway hung from her.
He broke off the kiss, a little breathless, "I'm sorry, but… I feel like I'm about to fall off this stupid thing," he chuckled, referring to the fact that he was teetering on the edge of the leather bench.
Olivia laughed and kissed him back one more time. "And you," he nodded toward the dress, "possibly look more uncomfortable in this stage of undress,"
"Bed?" she suggested.
He nodded, "I'll leave the curtains open so you can keep looking out the window if you like…" he smiled, halfway joking.
"I think I could be swayed to focus on other things…" she gave him a playful wink. He got up and she couldn't help to notice the bulge in his jeans. He took her hand, helping her up too. She held on to the sleeve of her dress which she had removed her arm from.
Trevor guided her to his side of the bed and looked down with a little laugh. She looked a little self-conscious but more uncomfortable. "Here… let me help," he offered. He took the sleeve on her other arm and tugged it downward until the material pooled at her waist, exposing a white lingerie set.
"Fuck…" he cursed.
"What?" she asked, even though she knew what he was going to say. She couldn't contain the smugness about it all.
He pushed the dress the rest of the way down, taking no time. "I like you in black lacey lingerie…" he told her, giving her the once over, "but this…" he focused on the lace detail securing her breasts in place. "This is fucking…" he paused, not even able to finish his sentence, "you better get in to that bed, Captain Benson," he said with an air of command that she found to be incredibly hot.
"Why? What are you gonna do?" she asked, playing along with him.
"Listen," he moved closer, fingering the straps of her white bra, slipping his fingers beneath it and following down to where the lace began its constraints of her breasts, "I want you to get in to my bed so I can make you come as hard as I know you've been thinking about…"
Her throat went dry and a flush of pink filled her cheeks. Despite her earlier denial, she had thought about him that way on many occasions, even finding herself daydreaming about him inside of her while she was at work.
Not an ideal time of day, but she had no control over the way he made her feel anymore.
"I don't know what you're talking about…" she replied defiantly. A hand slipped from her collarbone to her breast, sliding his thumb very briefly over her the hardened bead of her nipple. Her eyes immediately fell shut as he took the handful of flesh over the top of the material.
"No idea? still?" he asked, brushing his finger over the spot again, eliciting an involuntary whimper from the back of her throat.
"No idea…" she said in a whisper. His other hand slid down to her backside, grabbing another handful of flesh, being less gentle about his fingers digging in to her skin.
She gasped, "okay, okay… it's coming back to me…"
"Good, I thought it might jog your memory… remember back in Chicago?" his voice had dropped a couple of octaves as he spoke to her lustfully, loving the reaction she was giving him; enjoying their little sexy game of her trying to resist. He knew full well that she was on the thin end of the wedge, that she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.
She nodded. He brushed his fingers across the soft skin of her breasts. "Hard to forget…"
"Yeah, well, if you want a repeat of how good you felt that night, I suggest you take your amazing ass and get in to that bed…" he stepped toward her, making her take a few steps backward. He stared down at her, holding her eye contact with his hooded eyes. She fell backwards on to the bed.
She scooted backwards toward the bed head, resting back on his pillow. She knew it was the side that he slept on because she could smell his strong and familiar scent.
She watched him undo his jeans and push them down, stepping out of them at his feet and ripping his shirt off over his head. She admired his body, eyeing his chest, enjoying him towering over her. He crawled over her his body, taking up space between her legs.
He let his hands slide over her thighs up to her hips, making their way over the curves at her stomach, smoothing them over her breasts and up to her shoulders. Liv was so turned on by his attentiveness—his foreplay game had been off the charts back in Chicago.
The more attention he gave her, the more she desired him. He planted wide, open-mouthed kisses upon the soft flesh of her stomach, making his way up toward her breasts, following the path his hands had just been. Olivia closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
She ached for him to undress her, to feel his mouth over her. She wanted to get him out of his own trunks and guide him to her center. She could feel her breathing becoming more ragged with each passing, lustful thought of what it was going to be like to actually have him inside of her.
Her heart beat was racing and she could feel it hammering inside of her chest as it had been when she arrived.
She let out a gasp when his mouth covered over the fabric of her bra, feeling his hot tongue on the thin material that covered her hardened nipple. He slid his hand beneath her—Liv knew he was trying unclip her. She lifted her back as eagerly as he seemed. He paused for a second, needing the help from his other hand.
He struggled for a second before he cursed. "Here…" she interrupted a little impatiently. He eased up from her, and let her sit forward, she reached behind her and undone her bra clip and pulled the straps down from her shoulders, pushing away her stupid insecurities, knowing that he truly didn't care or wouldn't see the imperfections that she did.
"You've got the most amazing tits, Benson," he murmured against her mouth with a little chuckle, kissing her before she had the chance to disagree or say anything that contradicted him.
She couldn't help but to laugh in to his mouth. She laid back on the pillow and Trevor felt the hard beads of her nipples brush across his chest, constricting his pants.
He kissed his way down her neck, letting his fingertips graze over the soft-skin of her chest, the pad of his thumb grazing the underside of her nipple, moving slightly to her side to allow himself some room to search her body. She felt her back arch as she let out a sigh.
Her skin cooled with the wet trail he left. He took her breast in his mouth, working on her nipples, awakening them in to full bloom. He flicked his tongue softly over them, paying attention to each breast.
Without warning, he slid his hand between her legs, resting over the thin layer of material that covered the space where she had been throbbing for him to touch. He let out a hiss of surprise, realizing how wet she was. He massaged her lightly while he continued to work on her breasts with his tongue.
She breathed his name out from the back of her throat. He lifted his head, briefly looking up at her face to watch her face contorted with pleasure. He felt satisfied. "You good?" he asked her.
"More than good…" she was barely able to utter.
He chuckled, letting his tongue hit her nipple before his mouth covered the rest of her. She moaned his name as his hand slipped beneath the fabric, feeling her heat, touching her soft flesh. She found it hard to breathe.
"Oh my goodness," she murmured in a whispery voice as he slipped a finger inside of her, realizing how ready she was for him. He made his way back up toward her mouth, feeling her fingers digging in to his back, running down the dip of his spine. Once he resumed kissing her mouth, she reached down between them, to return the favor, to finally see what it was that she was going to be working with. She could feel his hard length against her thigh, constricted by his trunks.
She turned her head, breaking his kiss. "You better lose your pants, Trev…" she told him bluntly but she didn't have to tell him twice. Together they pushed the waist band of his trunks down until he was able to pull them off over his feet and discarded them somewhere.
"Oh shit," she murmured, covering his length with her hand. He chuckled, feeling absolutely no ounce of self-consciousness when it came to his appendage. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?" she asked watching his eyes fall shut momentarily as her soft hands enclosed around his girth.
"Maybe," he replied through clenched teeth as he felt her thumb slip over the smooth head of his penis. She enjoyed the gruffness to his voice that came to the surface as he was encumbered with waves of excitement. She enjoyed getting a little control back.
She felt his hand cover hers, guiding her gently to show her how he liked it. She didn't take any offense, she loved that he knew what he liked and wasn't afraid to confidently show her too. He made her grip a little firmer; she'd been a little afraid of getting too rough.
"Better?" she asked softly, a little vulnerably when he'd released her hand.
"Better than better," he replied, recapturing her kiss. She didn't mind when he kissed her a little urgently, his tongue filling her mouth, dancing in circles with hers.
She gasped when she felt his hand resuming the welcomed position between her legs, slipping his fingers inside of her, tucking the pad of his thumb beneath her opening. Her back arched, the circular motion he avoided the hardening bud inside of her, remembering from last time that he had to work up to it – that direct touch was just a little too much to start.
Olivia let a moan escape her mouth and immediately felt Trevor chuckle, the reverberations against her lips beginning to overwhelm her.
She moved up and down the length of his erection, thinking about having him fill her up. She'd realized from their bath in Chicago that he had a generous amount to work with but she had every confidence that she wouldn't have a cause for discomfort.
His breathing was ragged; he cursed beneath his breath, feeling Olivia's hand cupping him, paying attention to every bit of him.
"Trev?" she whispered, feeling the familiar swirling of arousal in her lower stomach. She tried to concentrate.
"Yeah?" he whispered.
"I want you…" she told him, "I want you inside me," her voice was shaky and she felt nervous saying the words out loud.
"Okay," he replied simply, planting a series of kisses on her mouth.
He removed his hand from her and felt Olivia's hand wrap around his hips. He climbed back over her. She created a space for him behind her legs. She felt his erection pressing against her thigh as he leaned over toward the bedside table for some protection.
Olivia took it from him and opened it up, fumbling for a moment, both laughing in frustration. They were both thankful for the tension relief between them.
"Can you go slow?" she asked him
"Sure," he smiled, "whatever you need…" he planted a lingering, moist kiss upon her mouth and then upon her jaw toward her ear. He reached down, guiding his member inside her folds.
Olivia felt the head of his penis sinking slowly inside of her, all the nerve endings between her legs causing her to feel woozy with arousal. She slid her arms around him, her hands splaying against the hard muscles of his back. He left hot syrupy kisses on her neck and collarbone as he pushed himself as far in as he thought he should, not wanting to hurt her.
"Is that okay?" he asked, his lips meeting hers.
She nodded, concentrating, feeling the tightness of him filling her up. He let his eyes sweep her face, letting her get used to him for a moment. "Sorry," she murmured, "its … been awhile," she managed a chuckle.
He shook his head, caressing the hair that framed her face, "don't apologize, you feel amazing," he extinguished her insecurities, slowly sliding out of her to thrust slowly, holding back.
She felt his hands beneath her, on the back of her shoulders. It felt a little awkward and clumsy. "You can go deeper," she said, answering the question he was too scared to ask.
He pushed himself in a little bit further with each thrust. "Shit," she murmured, lifting her head to kiss his lips. He drew his hand from beneath her shoulder blade, snaking his way up her nape. He ran his fingers up through her hair, bringing her forward. She held on to his biceps, her fingers pushing in to the flesh of his arms.
Her hips involuntarily began to roll against his, wanting more of him, becoming used to him and the way that he filled her up, sitting on the good side of pain. He moved in and out of her slowly; his strokes set all of her nerves on fire.
She forgot how good sex could be.
He broke their kiss and buried his face in her neck, turning his head to nip gently at her ear lobe, feeling her push her hips hard against his, causing him to bury himself fully inside of her. Her move elicited a guttural moan in her ear. Her body quivered beneath him.
"Can I…" she began softly, "can I get on top?"
Trevor chuckled, "can you?" he asked, "Benson, you don't have to ask…" he secured his arms around her, and rolled over on to his back, rolling her with him, slipping out of her briefly.
She felt a little insecure at first, but dared to meet his eyes as she straddled him. He had a big smile and tucked an arm beneath his head like a man of leisure. "Well, I very much like this view…" he remarked with a playful chuckle.
"Oh, no, I can't do this…" she said quickly, almost placing an arm across her chest.
"Shh," he shook his head, "come and kiss me…"
She leaned over him, he wore the brunt of her weight happily as he felt the soft swell of her breasts crushing against him. Her lips brushed against his, it was certainly something, letting her take the lead.
He felt her shift above him, kneeling slightly, reaching down between them to guide him back inside her. She paused their kiss, letting out a little gasp as she took him in as far as he could go, her hips crushing against his. She felt his hands at her waist as she rose up, rocking against him, his chest supporting the weight of her arms.
"Shit, Liv, that feels fucking amazing…" he informed her, shifting to meet her bucking hips in to a faster and shorter thrusts.
She was becoming breathless. He could feel her arousal pooling between both their legs. He reached up, taking her breast in his hand, thumbing at her hardened nipples as they moved together, becoming more urgent and faster in their movements.
Olivia's eyes were closed, concentrating on not coming but she knew she was close, his throbbing member was hitting dangerously close to the part of her deep within her walls that most men never came close to hitting or even finding. Trevor was big enough to hit so deeply inside of her and patient enough to wait til it happened.
Her hands tingled and her body felt constantly on the edge of letting the overwhelming feeling down below consume her.
Just when it began to build and Trevor started to feel her tense a little inside, he rolled her on to her back again, confident that she could take him fully and that she didn't require him to be as gentle now that she was used to his side, he became a little more urgent. "I'm the Captain now," he spoke with command and authority that made her shiver.
Olivia's breath caught in her throat at his low, bass-y bedroom voice. She caused a visceral reaction as she felt a deep thrust. He withdrew himself slowly before plunging back in to her each time, causing her intoxication and her insides to tingle more.
He caressed her hair, giving her his best moves over and over.
"Go harder," she commanded him, "I'm almost there…"
"Me too, sweetheart," he blabbered out the pet name without thinking but rather than making fun of him, she didn't seem to mind. He moved harder and faster at her request, reaching down between them, letting his thumb brush against her clitoris.
She moaned beneath him, digging her nails in to his skin. He liked it, he liked her passion, he liked the feel of her body meeting his thrusts, trying to get him to move deeper. He felt her legs wrap around him. He let go of her clitoris and slid his hand down to her thigh. He reached for the underside of it and linked his arm beneath her, pulling her leg upward, allowing him more access to move deeper so he could reach that well inside of her that he knew he was so close to.
He knew immediately by the way her body responded that it was the perfect position. Each time he thrust inside of her, her body reacted like an electric bolt had hit her, she became more vocal. "Get it," he grunted, breathless and so close to coming, "don't-" he puffed, "don't hold it back,".
Olivia couldn't have held on to her orgasm if she tried. She felt like she was going to hit the ceiling each time his penis hit her center.
"I want you to come so hard," he told her as if it was a demand that he was not kidding around with. He buried himself within her, feeling her walls tighten around him, her body trembling. He felt her pooling around him. He thrust a few more times, shorter, more forceful, feeling the rush of blood take over his brain, as he reached his own orgasm, feeling himself spill out. His cock twitched inside of her as instant sensitivity took over him.
Olivia's legs still shook, quivering beneath him as her orgasm hadn't completely passed.
She was so dizzy that she felt for a moment she might pass out. Her brain was fuzzy and she couldn't think. Trevor reached between them, letting his fingers brush over her clit gently, making it last longer – all her nerve endings tingled and caused her legs to twitch.
Once her orgasm calmed, she reached for his hand, threading her fingers through his, feeling him slip out of her. He flopped down beside her for a moment, allowing them both a moment to catch their breath.
"Fuck, that was … so good," she murmured. As soon as the words left her mouth, she dared to look at him, hoping it wasn't bad for him. "It was okay right?" she asked quickly.
"Okay?" he asked, "no Olivia, that sucked… worst sex ever…" he told her deadpan.
He watched her face fall and instantly felt terrible. He turned to his side and laughed, "my god, sweetheart, I am kidding," he told her, stroking her cheek. He kissed her lips. "It was incredible," he promised, "from start to finish, fucking incredible…"
"Yeah?" she pressed.
He nodded, "I promise." He let his hands smooth over her naked, soft body thoughtful for a moment. He let out a sigh of contentment and turned to her.
"So Captain, shall we follow tradition and get in the bathtub together? Mine has jets," he winked.
"Oh, I'm the Captain again, am I?" she teased him, with a little laugh, feeling strangely comfortable laying naked by his side. It was a little awkward, he needed to discard his condom and he was trying to be very aloof about it.
"Yes, Captain of my heart, Captain when we're everywhere but in bed together, that's where I captain the ship," he joked.
She shrugged, "Sounds fair to me, counsellor." She pressed her lips against his, "Okay, let's do the bath…"
He got up, his back facing her, discreetly making his way to the en-suite to organize himself and get their bath going.