"God damn it, Captain."
He doesn't mean to say it. He knows that who she is in the streets of Manhattan is not who she is when they're alone, just the two of them.
"Listen baby," she starts huskily. And even when she's calling him baby it isn't in the romantic way. It's the same condescending way she calls him sweetheart, almost in the same tone she uses when she calls him an ass. "I'm not that in here…"
She motions around his bedroom. A place she's only been once, but has somehow made her own.
"I'm just saying..." he motions to her, to the push-up bra and lace shorts. It's hardly the most sexy thing she has in her negligee drawer but this is probably his first time ever seeing her like this with the exception of an undercover gig a lifetime ago.
She thinks back and yes it is. The first time had been so casual she never lost her shirt. The time after that she'd been bent over her bed, clawing at her own sheets. Another time he spilled wine down her shirt and he walked her right past his bed and he fucked her in the shower. The last time? She'd felt frisky after too long a wait and she mounted him on the couch after his sweet mother had gone to bed.
She blushes now at the thought of her assisting Bernie in the kitchen all evening just before she did disgusting things to her son.
"Saying what?" Olivia challenges, her hands curling around her sensual hips.
Instead of speaking, he lets his eyes drag from her face to her chest, her belly, her legs, all this skin he's never really had the chance to appreciate.
And now that she's really thinking about it, this will be the first time they've made it to a bed, too.
A night of firsts for them.
She watches him gulp, the Adams apple still visible despite his hairy face and throat. His head tilts and because he's looking at her this way, completely uninhibited, she flips her bangs over so that they hang to one side and she spins for him.
She's always had a great ass and she knows he used to look back then and that he looks now, so she isn't shy at all. She knows he'll appreciate the way the cuff of her ass is exposed, how the lace stretches over her plump cheeks, how if she arches enough, the panties slide low enough to reveal her crack.
It's only been a handful of times and she knows all the nonverbal shit. She knows that he likes when she grabs her own breasts, when she rubs herself between the legs when he's deep inside of her. These are the things they both know...
But what he doesn't know?
"So who are you in here?"
She laughs deep and she looks over her shoulder, her eyes sultry, her lips pouting. "Whoever you want me to be."
He just stares wordlessly at her, watching her slowly unfasten her bra and toss it to the chair behind her without looking. She'd arrived in work mode. In a blazer too big, a shapeless blouse and fitted black pants and she tiptoed behind him fearful if waking Bernie. As soon as she locked the door, clothes had been coming off and with every item of clothing that she shed, she turned into this beautiful, submissive lady before him.
"What does that mean?"
She turns to face him and though he appreciated the smooth freckled skin on her back, the weight of her breasts make it hard to think. They're so full, nipples already erect and he'd grab her and haul her on top of him already if he wasn't enjoying it so damn much.
"What are you into, El?" She's curious and smiling at him from behind her lashes. They haven't done this often enough for this not to be shocking to him. His mind always does this. He has to take a second to remember that this is real. He's not going to wake up in Rome embarrassed that after all these years he's still dreaming about her.
And why? Why after a handful of times is he still processing the very first time she'd allowed him the privilege of being inside of her. He can still smell her perfume that night, still see her ponytail swinging behind her head, still hear the way she'd laughed as she sat across from him.
He had held her hand after dinner when they settled on a Yankees game on TV. She didn't move and let him run his thumb over hers before he finally pulled her in for a kiss. His hands on her neck and his forehead to hers he pulled away almost as quickly as he did it to scan her face. Was she okay with that? Did she want to slap his face?
Because that would've been an ideal time for her to get a good shot in. His eyes had quietly searched hers for answers. Was she happy? Was she pleased with him finally having the balls to do this?
She stared at him and looked down at his mouth before closing her eyes and leaning forward. He moved in and hauled her up against him eventually working off her pants and his while both of their shirts stayed on.
There in his brightly lit living room with the Yankees destroying Chicago in the 8th inning, he watched her over him. In her panties and a thin dark navy button up blouse that could barely contain how absolutely voluptuous she is now. She worked herself over him, rubbed herself against him and kissed his face as he pulled her panties aside. He groaned loudly and cursed her name and Gods the minute he lined himself up with her. She was soaked, so soaked that he didn't even get a chance to dip his fingers in it. Not his tongue, not his hands, but right straight to that. Her taking a hold of him and rubbing his pre-cum against her warm and soaking wet heat.
Her lips were so full and wet with her tongue darting out to lick them before biting down to stop herself from making too much sound. He saw it and heard it when it happened. Better yet, he fucking felt it when she clenched around him that first time. On his goddamn leather sofa, that is by far the noisiest piece of furniture he owns, he'd been thinking at time as he tried to distract his mind, to bide his body some time for the inevitable. The explosion that was so far deep on the cusp of a climax that he felt sick from it.
But as time and the touching goes on, he gets to explore her in ways that his fantasizes never could ever touch upon. Now she is in front of him, she wiggles out of her underwear, standing completely bare in his bedroom. He's licking his lips and she wonders to herself what the hell it is that he could possibly thinking about when she is completely nude and curvaceous and ready for him.
He strokes his beard, his eyebrows crinkle deeper and Jesus he's handsome. After all these years, after all the battles he's fought with her and without her, he's still so damned good looking. Even with all that hair on his face that she's grown to love, he's so attractive. He definitely didn't look like this a decade ago. While he could be very intimidating then, the man who lounges on his bed before her makes her clench and wetness seeps onto her inner thighs.
It'd been like that from the beginning. When she threw her leg over his lap and guided him inside of her then, he felt so big and thick and it didn't automatically feel good, she remembers thinking. She was so tense, and he felt so big, so solid and hard that despite how ready her body was the reality of Elliot inside of her proved to be almost too much for her body.
"You with me, Captain?" He pokes fun and he pulls her onto the bed, on top of him again, just like he likes her. She shakes her head at the word again. While it really turns him on, he is still surprised to find she doesn't quite like his little teasing joke.
"Sweetheart, baby, my love, my partner," he jokes between kisses as she attempts to slide all the way down on him on the first try. He nuzzles his nose into the crook of her neck and sinks his teeth down and slides his tongue out to taste her skin.
"Is that what you want?" He grabs handfuls of her as she begins riding him and taunting him with the movement of her hips. The very natural and extremely sexual way she is working her body over him makes him shudder, makes his eyes roll and his cock throb.
"Stop it. What do you want me to call you, huh?" she asks slowing down to a halt. He's buried inside of her and all he can do is run his hands over her breasts which are far more impressive and large than he would have ever been able to guess.
"You know what…" he says pinching at her hard nipples one by one.
"How would I know? It's not like we've done this a whole lot," she says slowly rocking her hips again unable to remain at a complete stop.
"But you've said it before... at work," he whispers as his hands still and softly smooth over her breasts. He's fascinated. He wonders how selfish is he for already planning how he wants the next time he makes love to her to be like. Next time she is on her back and he needs to see her breasts bouncing and legs in the air, that much he knows and makes mental note of it.
He sees it register on her face before it even hits her though.
"When….oh.." she reads his face and starts to softly pick up her pace. It's sensual and experienced and he is like a rock inside of her. She is so, so good at this he feels like it's impossible to stop the sensation building from his toes to his balls.
And then she says it. Leans forward, breathes in his ear before whispering. "Daddy."
"Fuuuuckkk," he grunts out, unprepared to actually hear it. His large hands squeeze her ass as she rides him harder but not quite faster as she keeps her mouth by his ear.
"Thought I felt you hard back then, wasn't sure if it was just my imagination…"
The whispering, her breathing that is getting heavier by the second, and the absolutely glorious feel of how velvety soft and wet she is around him almost does him in, almost. His tongue feels heavy and he wants to say something bad but he can barely control his shit right now. He wants to lose it on her—to stretch her out, make her scream and do what makes her curl her toes, do what makes drool drip from her mouth and flood the spot in-between her legs.
Whether she likes him calling her captain or not, she is still the one in control. She is the boss and he is so fucking turned on by it. He is so out of his element of past sexual experiences that having Olivia control this is what makes him pull her down and suck on her nipples while she bobs up and down on him. It's what makes him grip hard on her ass and encourage her while she works him.
"You weren't imagining anything, I've wanted to fuck you since day one." It slips from his mouth and his head rolls back and he lets her ride him however she wants and needs to.
"Don't," she warns, her hips slowing down as she takes him whole. Just hearing him say that alone almost sends her over. She starts to pulsate around him, gripping tightly at him. To have him admit he had adulterous feelings about her, that those feelings weren't professional or even friendly makes her clench around him in slow, deep waves. "Don't talk like that," she mumbles out, closing her eyes and laying her head on his shoulder. She goes limp in his lap as he begins thrusting up harder and harder.
"Whose is it? Since day fucking one?"
He wants to give her all this power but what he's yet to realize is that she doesn't need or want it when she is with him. She'll say a thing he wants her to say, do just about anything he wants her to do. Admitting that deep down she'd had those same disgusting thoughts as him isn't a challenge at all, so she answers him in his ear, "Yours."
He grunts and continues bucking his hips and on top of him, she is helpless and just needs to cum. She would do anything, absolutely anything to get to that point. "It's yours, Daddy," she drawls softly in his ear.
"What's that? I didn't hear you…" He lifts his hand up from her hip and wraps it softly around her neck.
"Fuck you" She moans as her eyes roll back, she has to bite down on her lip to stop the twisted smiling from spreading across her lips, but she's too far gone now.
"I always wanted a piece of this and you fucking knew it!"
She screams and explodes around him and its then he finally cums and holds down on her hips and lets himself go. She is sobbing in his ear and is choking him with how tightly clenched she is around him. It's all heat and deep breathing and a release so grand, they're both stuck in position, clenching and throbbing until finally it all stops.
"Good girl."
"Jesus," she whispers, pulling her face off of his neck. Her lids are heavy, the smile on her face faint, the flush in her cheeks and chest beautiful.