Elliots POV
I love surprising her with lunch.
Especially when we haven't seen one another in a few days. The look of happiness, of relief, she gets on her face always makes my day. When she's in a bad mood on a bad day, she can hardly speak to me but she's more than appreciative of the gesture. When she's in a good mood on a good day, she lets me kiss her in her office. When she's in a really good mood on a really good day she lets me cop a feel, will moan quietly against my lips, will let me tease her, make her wet, make her long for me so she's nice and ready when she gets home.
And that's exactly what I'm going to do today. We've been exchanging heated messages all day long, the ones that guarantee that really good sex is going to happen tonight, and fuck, I want to turn her on even more. Actually, I would like to fuck her in her office with her whole goddamn crew right outside the door and the day she lets me will be a dream come true.
Noah is going to sleep over tonight, something that has been planned for weeks. So tonight, a night alone, which hardly happens, has been on the forefront of my mind for weeks. We have made love many times now, more times than I can count and it's incredible. More incredible than I ever knew was possible. But loud, lose ourselves completely in type of loving making? I can probably count on one hand how many times those have happened. Her face is usually covered with a pillow, with a hand, her teeth clamping down on something because she just can't seem to keep herself quiet.
And everytime she doesn't have to keep quiet? Fuck me. The woman is loud, a screamer, a very vocal lover, and I have no idea how she keeps her mouth as shut as she does on the nights we're not alone. But tonight? I get to hear her. Get to hear every single fucking sound I can coax from her and trust me, I'm going to coax every one I can.
Just the thought is making my jeans feel a little more tight on this damn elevator and I better get it a little bit together. Last thing I need is her crew to see me rocking a hard on, although I really don't think it should be a shock to any of them. I mean, have they seen the woman? Fuck. And now I get to see her naked? Double fuck.
I don't remember this elevator taking so long. I guess I really am that anxious to see her. Our jobs suck, our schedules always seem to contradict one another and as much as we try, we don't see each other enough. I'm thankful for the time we do get but hateful of the time we don't. And right now, I just want her.
The doors open, my feet step off and I head straight towards the direction of her office. Everyone knows about us now. Actually, I think everyone knew before we even disclosed. It's really hard to keep a secret when we can hardly keep our hands off one another now. 24 years without touching your soul mate, will fucking do that. But with everyone knowing, for sure knowing, it's nice. No one stops me as I head towards her office and I nod my head at those who I pass by.
I'm still in disbelief on how different this place looks compared to how I left it. I catch myself glancing around her squad room all the time. Picturing it, seeing it, how it used to be. With dark walls, stupid cheap wooden desks, those fucking dinosaur computer screens. It sometimes makes me smile. Sometimes it makes me sad. So many years, so much that I missed, and I don't know why she's given me this chance.
This chance to have all of her. I don't deserve it, I know I don't. But she's given it to me. Her body, her heart, the opportunity to know her child. She moans my name when she comes, whispers I love you too in the middle of the night and as much as I don't know why she's given me the chance, I will never make her doubt it. I want to be the man she's always deserved and goddamn, I'm going to be.
So as I carry her favorite deli sandwich and iced coffee down this small corridor to her door, I walk with a sense of pride. That after all I've done, I still get her. The best part about this tiny walk is that I can see her through her open blinds. The only time they're ever closed is when she's in an important meeting, she's stressed out or, of course, if I'm in there.
But instead of my eyes only falling on my gorgeous Captain, they fall on… who the fuck is that? Not that I'm surprised that someone is in her office, she is a respectable Captain afterall, I'm just surprised by how fucking close he is to her.
He's not only on her side of the desk, which is already an issue because, really, I should be the only person on that side of her desk, he's also leaning over her. Her body is in her seat, her glasses perched on her nose, her eyes glued on something on her laptop screen that he's pointing at. Overly fucking pointing at. Like no one needs to be that close to point to something on a screen. And did he seriously just lean closer to her? Jesus Christ, any fucking closer to her, they'll be touching cheeks.
It only causes my feet to walk faster because mine. She's mine. And with the way his eyes just traveled down to look at those incredible breasts of hers, I know exactly what this guy is fucking thinking. It's not like she's paying attention, of course she's not paying attention. Olivia has always been oblivious to every fucking look that is flashed her way. And there are a lot of looks that are flashed her way. The looks don't really bother me either anymore. I mean… they do. But not enough that I'm going to get upset about them. It comes with having a beautiful woman, men are going to look at her.
What does bother me? Men being all up on her when they know she's not single anymore. She, we, make it very known that we are together. As a couple. A couple who are head over heels in love with one another. I mean, she wears the semper fi metal I sent her all those years ago on the same chain as the diamond necklace I bought her for her birthday this year. There's that ridiculous picture of us in our yellow plastic coats at the falls on her desk (the same one I have on mine), a picture of Noah and I, a picture of all of us together, including my kids and mom. It's not a fucking secret and I still have to put up with men being this close to her?!
And I swear to god, if he looks down her shirt one more time… this dick head. I really fucking hope that mark I left on the side of her right breast last time is still lingering there because I want him to see it. I don't think my feet have ever moved faster without running and when she turns her head the tiniest bit to look at him, he gives her this ugly ass grin that makes me want to punch him even more.
Usually I knock, especially when someone is in her office but today is not a day for knocking. I open her door… okay, I more like barge into her door. Complete with an almost slam of the object against the wall and I catch it almost a second too late. Both of them look at me at the same time and I know exactly what each one of them are thinking without anyone having to open their mouths.
Him? He's terrified. As he should be. His whole body jumps back from hers, his back almost hitting the wall behind her and damn, do I really look that scary right now? I fucking better.
Her? She already knows. Like she always knows. And I can already see the agitation in her face. Can already hear the words on the tip of her tongue. "Don't you dare start, Elliot."
But don't I dare start? This man was just all over her and she was letting him be. How come I'm the one who is getting this look when he was just looking at her fucking cleavage?
And since no one is saying anything and since she's mine, I walk to her side of the desk, fuck the wide open door right now, lean down to plant a kiss on her lips, although she doesn't really kiss me back, and place her food on her desk before her. "Brought you lunch, dear." She's going to kill me, I already know it. I just don't give a fuck right now.
Her eyes are stern, hard, still full of warning but seriously, fuck her warning right now. "Detective Elliot Stabler, the boyfriend," she hates when I say that, "And you are?" I think about sticking my hand out but a handshake is a friendly gesture and this meeting is not friendly.
"Elliot," she says with that goddamn tone she uses with me when I get out of hand and of course she's going to say something before the man can even tell me his name, "This is ADA Thomas Williams, he's new to the Manhattan attorney office."
"Oh. Well nice to meet you." I'm not sure if my voice can radiate anymore fucking sarcasm but if it can, I want it to.
"You too, Detective Stabler." The way he emphasizes detective is not lost on me. And fuck him. I have no shame in the fact that I've been at the same rank for the last 20 years, especially when Liv gets a kick out of pulling the rank card in the bedroom. Does he know how much she gushes when I call her Captain? Yup, no shame.
I'm feeling salty, obviously and since I've already started and she's already irritated and he's still fucking standing here, why the fuck not continue? "So, ADA… Williams? Do they teach professional space in law school or do they leave that out of the curriculum?"
I hear our Captain groan out some version of my name but I am not looking at her right now. I'm looking at this ADA who can't keep his eyes off my lady's breasts.
"You're definitely one to preach about professional space, Detective."
Okay. What the hell is that supposed to mean? She's my woman. Of course there's no professional space between us. And technically, we're not allowed to work together anymore, so when we're together, it's on our own time.
I'm just about to open my mouth again, when she clears her throat, loudly. "ADA Williams was showing me a new feature on our work email."
"Do you have bad eyesight, Thomas?" I mean, if he's catching glimpses of the marks I left a week ago, I think we can be on a first name basis. "Because with the way your eyes were traveling off the screen, I don't think you do."
She stands abruptly then, makes both of us recoil from her slightly, "Okay! If you would excuse Detective Stabler and I, Williams. I'll make sure to give you a call if I have any further questions or concerns." He's still staring at me, I'm still staring at him and yes, jackass. She's asking you to leave, not me. "ADA Williams," she repeats and uh oh. He better go.
I can see the look of disappointment on his face and did he seriously think she was going to kick me out? But he doesn't say anything, just nods his head, tells her, "Likewise, Captain Benson," and heads to the door.
I'm about to follow because I want to be the one who closes the door behind him but she beats me to it. Gives me an angry ass look as she stomps around me and Jesus, I don't know why she's so fucking angry at me.
As soon as the door is closed, she's speaking. Okay, maybe more like yelling. But a hushed yell, so no one else can hear her. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"Me?" Why is it always me?! "He was ogling your breasts like he wanted to eat them for dessert, Olivia."
"You're an idiot," as she talks, she angrily closes her blinds, "He wasn't ogling anything."
That I laugh at. The woman really doesn't pay attention. "He most definitely was and even if he wasn't, there is no need for him to be that fucking close to you. Jesus, Liv if you both would have turned a certain way, your lips would have locked."
She rolls her eyes like what I'm spitting out is complete bullshit. Like I didn't just fucking witness it with my own eyes. "I don't know why you always think that everyone wants me, Elliot."
Ummm, has she seen herself? "Because everyone does want you. And I'm telling you. that man definitely wants you."
"And so what if he does! So what if he was looking down my shirt, or too close to me because he wanted to smell this rose scented perfume that makes you want me even more, Elliot. What do you think I'm going to do? Let him eat me for dessert?"
No. Of course I don't think that. I trust the woman explicitly, just like she trusts me. But it's not her I'm worried about, well not really. "I don't think you're going to cheat on me, Liv. I just think you put yourself in questionable situations when you don't realize how some of these men act towards you."
"Questionable situations?"
"Yeah. Like you're not gonna notice you're being hit on until they shove their tongue down your throat. Then what are you gonna do?"
She doesn't like that. I can tell. Her mouth falls open, then closes, then falls open again. Much like she does when she's pissed the fuck off and is trying to not scream. And I know whatever is coming next, is not going to be pretty. This was not how this afternoon was supposed to go, dammit! I was supposed to be able to kiss her, supposed to be able to squeeze her ass the way she likes me to and this fucking ADA ruined everything.
Is her hand really reaching for her door handle right now? Oh hell no. "Get out, Elliot."
Get out! "Are you kidding me?"
"Don't make me cause a scene in my own fucking squad room, Stabler. You've crossed about every goddamn boundary you can since you've barged into this office. Get. Out."
This is bullshit. Complete bullshit. I should not be made to leave for pointing out the obvious. For pointing out how easy it would be for a man to place his lips on her. But she's still standing there, with her hand on her fucking door handle, the door wide open, her foot angrily tapping away and fine. She wants me to go that bad? I'll go. Hope she invites her ogling friend back in too. "Tell him I said hi when you call him," I say as I walk by her.
She blows out a huff, mumbles something that sounds like "son of a bitch" and says, to my back, "Don't you dare even think about coming over tonight now."
Okay, that almost makes me stop. Almost. We've had tonight planned for weeks. Have both been hyping one another up for the rare opportunity to completely lose ourselves in one another without having to worry about whatever racket we're making and she's going to cancel it because of this. Because of something that isn't even my fault?! But if that's what she wants to do, that's on her. If she doesn't want an endless amount of screaming messy orgasms, that's her fault, not mine. Who knows when we'll have another chance to be alone. So I mumble a, "Fine," and just keep on walking.
EO
I'm jogging. Because really, what the hell else am I to do tonight? Sleep? I can't sleep knowing what I was supposed to be doing and who I was supposed to be doing it with. God, just the thought of her now sends my body into overdrive, like I'm some fucking teenager and really I don't even know if it's normal. Not that I'm complaining. With the way the woman responds to me, I'm definitely not the only one in overdrive, that much I can guarantee. And fuck, I want her. Even after this stupid ass argument we had today, I want her.
It's not fucking fair that she's not letting me have her tonight. It really isn't. I wasn't even that disrespectful. I never said anything that claimed she is less of a woman than she's always been. I was just trying to make her more aware of her surroundings and isn't that what I'm supposed to do? As her partner and whether she likes it or not, her boyfriend? I'm supposed to protect her, I was always supposed to protect her.
I've failed at it in the past, miserably failed at it and she wears the scars to prove it. But I'm determined to never fail at it again and I don't know why she doesn't understand that.
Plus, it's no secret that I'm a jealous son of a bitch. I've always been a jealous son of a bitch. Even when she wasn't mine, I was jealous of every man who got her attention. There was even a time she stopped telling me about who she was dating because she knew I wasn't going to be happy. So it's not a fucking secret.
And since we're talking about jealousy, I'm not the only jealous one in this relationship. The woman still does not pronounce Flutura's name right. And the look she gets every time the woman is brought up, which really isn't that often, could kill someone. I swear to God. I can guarantee that if a woman was leaning over me like that fucking ADA was leaning over her today, she'd have a goddamn problem with it too. I know she would. And she's going to throw me out of her office?! She's going to tell me not to come over?! Fuck that. This key she gave me for emergencies? I'm fucking using it.
Because this is not over.
EO
It's not really weird anymore to be in her home without her. With the way our schedules work, more often than not I'm coming over late at night to relieve the babysitter, so I can catch Olivia for a few hours before we have to start over the next day. I've mentioned moving in together once or twice and she's dismissed me quickly. I don't want to press on it too much, so if she's not ready, it's not happening yet.
I've picked up some food on the way over here because no matter how pissed we are at one another, we both still need to eat. I contemplate eating without her, who knows what type of mood she's going to be in when she realizes I'm here, but I am a gentleman, so I won't do that.
I have no idea when she'll be home tonight and I don't want to text her and ask. Knowing the mood she was in when I left her, she probably won't come home if she knows I'm here. I've left my boots by her door, my coat on her rack so I don't startle her. So as soon as she gets here, it's not going to be a secret that I'm lingering… somewhere.
I guess I can do the few dishes in her sink. I'm not sure how tonight is going to transpire, I'm not sure how I want it to transpire. I just know I'm going to call her out for her bullshit call today. I'm going to call her out for getting so upset with me when she would have reacted the same fucking way. Is that going to get me laid tonight? Probably not. Do I care? Maybe a little bit. But she can't be in the right all the time and I feel like since I was the one who left her for 10 years, I'm always in the wrong. And I don't think I should always be in the wrong anymore. I've been back for two and half years now, this between us has been going on for eight months and I think it's about time I can be right about something. And dammit, I'm right about this. I am.
The few dishes are done, the coffee mess on her counter she must of made this morning while she was in a hurry is cleaned up, I think about starting a load of laundry and shit, when the fuck did I become some domestic with this woman? Guess it comes with that whole being the man she deserves, thing I got going on. Maybe she won't be as pissed if she sees that I did some of her housework, or maybe she'll be even more pissed because she doesn't need me cleaning up after her and Noah. Something she's told me time and time again. Which pisses me off too. I want to help her and she just needs to let me without protesting all the goddamn time. Yup, I'm starting a load of laundry.
I'm just about to throw Noah's clothes in the wash when I hear the lock turning. I should probably meet her at the door but I'm busy starting this load and by the sound of her loud sigh when the door opens, I more than know she's already aware that I'm here.
"Dammit, Elliot. I told you not to come over," she says and really? I don't even thinks she's closed the fucking door yet. Still don't know why she's SO pissed at me!
I grunt out a "whatever" and of course with her Captain ears she hears me. "You should speak up. I don't understand mumbling."
Damn. She really is not happy with me. And since this is what she wants to do tonight, I'm game. Our other plans have been spoiled since I left her office anyways. "I said…" My voice is loud, clear, stern, "I didn't feel like listening." We both know that's not what I said but I mean, she is the one who wants to do this tonight.
"Yeah, I can see that. The hell are you doing anyway?" The more she talks, the closer her voice gets and when her body is in my line of vision, her eyes connected to me, I give her one of my cocky ass smiles, pour the cup of detergent I have in my hand in the washer, close it and push the start button. Her eyes instantly fill with even more irritation and I have never known a woman who gets so upset over someone helping her out around the house. She's a strange one. My strange one, but a strange one nonetheless.
"Jesus, Elliot. How many times have I told you to stop cleaning my place!"
"Well, the dishes are done and that coffee mess is cleaned up too."
She groans, says, "You're so fucking agitating," and takes off towards the direction of her kitchen.
My feet follow her because again, if we're doing this, we might as well fucking do it. "And you're so goddamn stubborn but you don't see me complaining."
She's digging in her fridge for… something and I'm not sure if she's actually looking for something or if she's trying not to throw something at me but since I would prefer to not be hit by something flying tonight, I'm not even going to say anything.
"It's not stubbornness for not wanting you to clean."
She's essentially speaking into the fridge and really? I get called out for mumbling in the fucking hallway and she can talk into the fridge? "You should speak up. I don't understand what you're saying when you're not looking at me." She's going to kill me.
That causes the fridge to slam, causes her body to abruptly turn towards me, "Get out."
"No." Yup, I'm a goner.
Her eyes darken and is it bad that I actually think she is really sexy when she's angry. Like damn, all that aggressiveness? Used to kill me when we were partners. "I don't want to do this with you tonight, Elliot. I'm tired, my back hurts and you just keep pissing me off more."
"I keep pissing you off?! Tonight was supposed to go in a whole different direction Olivia."
"And whose fault is it that it's not?!"
What? Is she implying that it's my fault? Because she's the one who canceled tonight, not me! "How the hell is it my fault, when you're the one who told me not to come over."
"You seriously think you're going to get some when you can't fucking control yourself around a coworker! I mean Jesus Christ, Elliot, you barged into my office ready to punch him and then couldn't keep your goddamn mouth shut. That's my job! And in case you've forgotten, I'm the boss at my job and it really doesn't look good when the man I'm dating has a jealousy rage in the middle if the fucking day. Who knows how many people he told."
"I don't give a fuck who he told. Hope he told them about where is eyes were lingering the whole fucking time too. Man was almost salivating."
She groans again, slams her hands down on her counter before her, "I care who he told! Chief McGarth already has his issues with me. Already has his issues with you and the last thing I need is to get bitched at because of your fucking mouth. Then you want to question my ability to protect myself! Fuck you, Elliot."
Okay. I didn't mean it like that at all. I know the woman can protect herself. She's done it without me. My point is that she doesn't have to protect herself alone anymore. And it would be a little nicer if she would tell men to back the fuck off of her. Especially those looking down her shirt! "I never said you couldn't protect yourself. I said to pay attention! You still don't even think his eyes were ogling anywhere!"
"I still don't know why you give a rat's ass if his eyes were lingering anywhere!"
"Because you're mine, Olivia. I don't like men all over you!"
"Oh, so it doesn't have anything to do with your fear of someone kissing me when I'm not paying attention then! You're just a jealous asshole."
This woman. "Of course I'm a jealous asshole! But don't act like you're not as bad as me."
She huffs at that and there is no way she's about to deny how jealous she gets too. "I do not get jealous." Well, I guess she is.
I laugh deeply, which she definitely doesn't like either, "You still refuse to say Flutura's name correctly, Liv." One thing she hates more than saying it herself? Is hearing me say it. It's like she pictures me saying her name while I was having sex with the woman and really, she shouldn't worry that much. I thought about her the whole time anyways.
Her eyes flash with that look she always gets when Flutura's name is brought up and she huffs out a sound of annoyance (also normal), "It's a stupid fucking name. I'm not the only one who can't pronounce it right."
"Whatever you say." We both know the truth about that.
She crosses her arms at her chest, pushes her breasts together and have I mentioned how hot this woman is when she's angry? Like yum. "I still want you to get out."
"I'm still not going anywhere." I'm not. And with that look of heat that I swear just flashed across her face, I really don't think she wants me to go anywhere either.
"Elliot, I swear to fucking God right now. You're pushing it."
I'm pushing it? How come ADA Williams wasn't pushing when his cheek was so close to hers they were probably breathing the same air! It's bullshit. I'm telling you, it's complete bullshit. And, seriously why the fuck are we still so far apart right now? We never had an issue getting in each other's faces before and again, since we're fucking doing this tonight, we might as well do it. I stalk up towards her, round the counter with ease, stop inches from her.
It doesn't surprise me that she doesn't move a muscle during the whole thing. Her body is solid, her face is stern and I swear she doesn't even blink. I'm pretty positive she could kick my ass if she ever needed to but with the way she's looking at me? I don't think she's contemplating that, at all. I know this woman enough now to know when she's aroused, can see it in her eyes everytime her body gushes for me and I can guarantee her panties are most likely rendered useless already. Fuck, she likes this. Okay, maybe she doesn't like this, but her body does.
But she's tough, she's always been tough. Still doesn't move, even as I step closer to her. "I said to get out, Elliot." Damn, she is not caving.
"Make me." Well, I honestly didn't think I could piss her off anymore but with the way her eyes just flashed, I was wrong. Very fucking wrong.
I can see the minute it finally snaps inside of her. Her eyes turn darker, her tongue clicks the roof of her mouth, her hands drop from their crossed position against her chest and before I can even figure out what the fuck she's actually doing, I'm being shoved back, hard. Really hard. Damn, I knew the woman was strong but Jesus Christ, how many feet did I just stumble back? And then she's the one stalking towards me, her eyes angry, her hands lifting to shove against my chest again and is she really about to push me out of her fucking place right now? But instead of being pushed towards the door, which is exactly where I think I'm being pushed, I'm being pivoted to the right. I don't know what she's doing but her eyes are dangerous and sexy and I kind of want to know so instead of allowing her hands to push me once more, I catch her wrists in my hands, step backwards on my own accord. I can walk, Captain.
But she only snatches her wrists from me so she can still shove me backwards and fuck. My blood is already traveling south, my dick growing hard in my jeans and damn, I want her so fucking bad right now. She shoves me hard once more, makes me stumble backwards again and I swear I almost trip on this goddamn dining chair my ass just landed in.
As soon as I land, she's on me. Like completely on me. Her knees bent on either side of my thighs, her nails clawing their way up the back of my head, her teeth catching my lips. Fuck. She wants to fuck this is out? That's one thing we haven't really done yet. Yes. We've had rough sex but angry sex? That has not happened. And knowing its about to happen, makes my fucking head spin for a second. A spin that I quickly recover from because, bring it on Benson.
Her nails are harshly digging into the back of my head, her teething are clanking against mine, her body is pressed firmly against me, her pelvis grinding against my hard on and fuck, I love when she uses me like this. I live and breath to please her now and I will please her any fucking way she needs me too.
I'm pretty sure she might have just drawn blood at the back of my neck and alright. If that's really what we're doing. My right hand snatches her by her hair roughly, my fingers gripping the strands and pulling her hard enough to pop her clamped teeth of my goddamn lip. I mean, if she can manhandle me, I can manhandle her.
She lets out a moan, presses her hips deeply against me and yes, we're doing this tonight. She's panting, her chest rising and falling quickly from anger and arousal. Fuck. You know how many times this woman and I have needed to fuck it out throughout the years? Shit, sometimes during our partnership, I just wanted to slam her against the wall.
Her nails bite harshly into the back of my neck again, her head tries to pull itself from my grip, I tighten my grip harder so she can't go anywhere and she huffs another sound of anger out of her lips. "You want to fuck this out, baby?"
She moans, says, "I want you to shut the fuck up." Her hands release my neck and for a second I think I may have just ruined this. But when her fingers find my nipples to pinch and twist hard, oww, effectively making me release the grip on the back of her head, I realize I didn't ruin anything. I egged it on. She uses the loosened grip to her advantage, draws her lips angrily back to mine. This time I meet her with the same velocity she gives me. Our teeth clank and bite. My fingers tug and pull her head in the direction I want it to go, hers claw and scratch and on one hard pull of her hair, she moans loudly, grips my throat with her hand, not to the point where I can't breathe but hard enough to push my head back so she can place open mouth bites along the expanse of my neck.
My hands alternate from gripping her hair, to her back, to digging into her ass. I'm not sure why the fuck we are still wearing so many clothes right now but this just isn't going to do. Thank god for her choice of shirt today because on one hard bite and suck of her lips, my hands move around her sides to catch the tiny open part of this button down and pull… hard. Buttons fly everywhere, she pushes a curse word into the side of my neck, squeezes my flesh just a little bit tighter.
"Son of a bitch. I liked this shirt!"
"Well, it's useless now." It really fucking is. I think I may have even ripped the collar. I'm in my jogging clothes, a tank top and a zip up sweater, so there's not much she can rip on me. Sorry, Benson. Should have chosen a better outfit for tonight. Her hands are in between us, her fingers working on the zipper of my sweatshirt. I'm palming her bra covered breasts roughly, squeezing them tightly, pushing them together. My lips have found this spot on her neck but as soon as I bite down, she yanks her flesh out of my mouth. Goddamn.
"Don't mark me."
She's serious, dead ass serious. She is so fucking angry with me that she doesn't even want to give me the satisfaction of marking her and fuck that. If she's marking me, which I know she already has, I'm fucking marking her. Whether she likes it or not. One of my hands abandons her breast to tangle sharply in her hair once more. I don't even give her a warning, I just yank hard enough to expose her neck to me and drag my mouth to her skin.
The woman may be pissed at me but I know what she likes. I know what makes her weak in the knees and I know exactly what she's trying to do right now. She's trying to fuck me. But I'm going to fuck her. I clamp my teeth down on this weak spot right under her ear, suck long and slow, enjoy both the sounds of her moans and her cursing. She's still trying to tug her head from my grasp, not hard, but enough to let me know that she's not fucking happy with it.
"Dammit, Elliot!" It's more of a moan than anything, although she's not going to admit that. And I don't know why she's fucking cursing me! At least she has hair to cover her, I have nothing. These scratches she's still clawing into the back or my head, will be seen by everybody. And these marks? Jesus. Bell really is going to kill me.
When I finally relent and let go, I'm more than satisfied at the purple mark I was able to form. I hope she invites ADA Williams back to her office tomorrow. Because he won't have to look down anything to see how good she was fucked tonight. I latch my lips back onto a spot right underneath it because two marks sounds way fucking better than one to me at the same time I feel her tug hard on my tank top. Okay. Guess she can rip something on me and damn, if that doesn't make me even harder.
Her nails scrape against my skin roughly. From the back of my neck, to the tiny bit of bare skin she can still manage to touch with my sweater still hooked on my shoulders and seriously, why the fuck do we still have so many clothes on. I should be buried inside of her by now.
I try to push her jacket and her useless shirt off her shoulders but she won't fucking release her claw grip on me to let them fall to floor and this goddamn woman, won't even let me get her naked. Doesn't matter to me, I can still easily pull out my favorite things on her chest anyways. I yank the right side of her bra down greedily, pop my mouth of this spot on her neck, use my hand in her hair and on her side to push her far enough back so I can wrap my lips around her nipple.
She hisses, arches her back, presses herself more into my mouth and that's what I thought. Go ahead and be angry at me baby, I'll still make you come before I even get your pants off. Her hips are squirming, trying to aid her in getting that friction she so desperately needs but with her tight black trousers still on, she can't get very far and I can't help but laugh at her huff of frustration. Woman really should have worn a dress today, would have made this a hell of a lot easier for her, for us.
She doesn't like my laugh very much. Her fingers dig sharply into my sides, her right hand trails down and down, until it can slip into my pants. I'm throbbing with need and when her hand wraps directly around me, I can't even help my buck up into her. She's the one who laughs now. A satisfied laugh that I respond to her the way I do and I still don't know why she ever doubts it's going to be different. I've wanted her for half my life, of course I'm always going to be ready for her.
But she is not winning this thing that we're doing right now. And I know that's exactly what she's trying to do. She's trying to make me pop off already, evident by the skilled movement of her hand against my shaft. Not going to work, Benson. It definitely fucking isn't.
Her thumb swipes over my tip, in just the way that drives me crazy, and that's it. This position is not going to work anymore. Especially if she's dead set on driving me fucking crazy and not allowing me to do the same. The woman may be strong but she's not as strong as me, that much I can guarantee. Although I will never use that against her, well unless it's in situations like this.
I pop my mouth off her nipple, wrap my hands around her ass to take a firm hold of flesh, the last thing I want to do is drop her, and stand. She groans out her disapproval, oh well Benson, wraps her legs around my waist, although that's not really needed because we're not traveling far. I'm thankful that I have kept my rigorous gym routine throughout the years because my strength really does come in handy sometimes. She's aggressively attacking my lips again, her hands wrapping around every part of my head and goddamn, I need to be inside of her. My foot kicks this stupid ass chair out of the way, hard enough that it knocks over and I spin abruptly to drop her onto this small ass table of hers.
She had told me her back hurt, so I try to be as gentle with the drop as I can, my hand coming up to protect her back as she falls onto it. It detaches her lips from mine, finally gives me a fucking opportunity to reach in between us and unbutton these goddamn pants of hers.
"We're going to break the fucking table, Elliot."
"Guess you're going to have to buy a new table then." She is, although I really don't think it's going to break. But if it does, I don't give a fuck. She's the one who started this.
I hook my fingers into her pants, give them a yank hard enough that her ass almost falls off the table and that's definitely a way to keep her irritated. "Jesus! You could just ask."
"I'm was done asking at that don't mark me comment, baby."
She huffs out again, reaches her hands out to push my sweatpants over my ass. She doesn't push them any farther, just enough that I can completely bob free between us and when she licks her lips in that delicious way she does when she wants me in her mouth, I grin. At least we're both equally as addicted to one another. I'm still yanking these pants down and when they get caught on… her fucking boot, I groan in annoyance. "Had time to come in here and yell at me but couldn't take your fucking shoes off?" Like I'm just trying to fuck all this anger and jealousy out of the both of us and it's taking too long to get inside of her.
"Shut up and hurry up, Elliot."
Hurry up. Like that's not exactly what I'm trying to do. I yank her left shoe off quickly and since she's so fucking impatient, I'll just yank her whole left leg out of her pants. We hear another rip of… something and oops. But instead of groaning her disapproval this time, she moans high and loud and I guess we're now embracing the fact that our clothes are going to be destroyed after this. My plan is to remove her other shoe as well, to get her bottom half completely naked but she's canting her hips towards me, digging her short nails into my ass to try to bring me closer. To try to get me inside of her and we really are both equally impatient right now.
"What do you want, baby?" The woman likes when I talk. She responds to it and I want her to respond, I want her as wet and as into this as possible.
She groans, arches her hips again, "I want you to fuck me."
"Mm…" those words rolling off her tongue are seriously music to my ears. I push her hips back just a little bit, spread her legs wider, swipe the tip of my cock through her soaked folds. "How hard?"
"Hard enough that I won't punch you in the face for not leaving when I fucking told you to."
Well, that's a pretty good answer in my opinion. I think about suggesting a safe word but looking at her right now, the way she's spread out in this table, her shirt ripped open, one breast half out, one leg bare, one clothed, her chest rising and falling, her center glistening and I realize we don't need a safe word. We'll never need a safe word. There is no one I trust more than her, and I'm pretty sure there's no one she trusts more than me. This is about pleasure, not about pain and goddamn, I'm going to please her just like I always fucking please her.
I usually try to introduce my fingers first. The woman is so tight sometimes, that it takes us a few minutes to get her to relax. But she's needy, angry, horny, and I have a feeling she may actually try to punch me if I swipe my fingers through her folds. So I line myself up, push my hips gently forward, because AGAIN, I don't want to cause her any discomfort but with her groan of disapproval and her, "I said to fuck me, Elliot," I give up all pretenses of trying to keep my gentleman aspect in this right now. If hard is what she wants, hard is what she's going to fucking get.
Her tightness almost makes me cross eyed. Something about the way she feels, the way she always feels, makes me lose some semblance of control. I know I haven't been with a lot of women but nothing has ever felt like this. Nothing has ever felt like coming home. She is my home, she has always been my home and the fact that I can now bury myself inside of her, that I can become one with her, always brings some emotion. This time is no different. But she wants me to fuck her and that's what I'm going to do.
I can feel her tense slightly when I push hard enough to enter her in one smooth movement but she's good at relaxing herself, so the tenseness doesn't last long and as soon as I know it's gone completely, I pull out quickly, almost all the way, and slam back into her, quick, fast, deep. She calls out, loud and satisfied and yes. I get to hear every fucking sound tonight and it's apparent that she has not forgotten that fact. I do it again and again and on my third thrust, she clenches hard. Fuck, she's close already. Really close already and I want to hear her tell me that. I want to hear her admit that she likes when I piss her off. That this anger, this jealousy, that we've always held in our partnership is a turn on for her. It's always been a turn on for her, And goddamn, just the thought that she would be gushing every time we were in one another's face in the hallway makes my next thrust harder.
The whole table shifts backwards on that one and I have to take a step forward to keep this deep, hard thrusting that she's loving right now. She clenches again, says "Oh… fuck… El…" My fingers dig sharply into her hips, those are definitely going to be bruises later, and I groan, "You close already, baby?" She tries not to, I know she does, but she nods anyways, squeezes her eyes shut, tries to bite her bottom lip and we can't have that. "No, no, Liv. Let me hear you. Every fucking sound. Let me hear it." She calls out again, clenches tightly around me, tries to shift her hips just a tiny bit. I think she's trying to get me in a better angle against her g spot but when I realize she's only trying to move me away from it, I almost laugh. She's trying to fight her orgasm and we really can't have that either. I love it that I can make her come multiple times in one round and I especially love it when I can get her to release all that built in pressure that's been building inside of her. So fighting her orgasms is not an option, it never has been. My fingers grip her hips harder to keep her right where I want her, right where she needs to be and I grunt out, "Oh, no, no, baby. Stay still."
"Ugh, ELLIOT! You're not… this isn't… aaaahhhhaahhh…" I don't know what the fuck she's trying to say but I really don't care, I just want her to fucking come. My thumb finds her clit to rub those tight, hard, small circles, my hips thrust fast, hard and deep and the scream that releases from her lips is almost feral. I'm sure the apartment above us and below us heard that and I really hope they did. Woman sounds incredible when she comes. She looks incredible when she comes too. Back arched, mouth agape, thighs tightly squeezed around my waist, and fuck, I love this woman's thighs. I love her whole body but her thighs? Yum. Especially when they're wrapped around my waist.
I keep thrusting my hips roughly, keep circling her clit firmly, she keeps clenching, keeps screaming, her hips keep trying to fly out of my grip but she had told me to fuck her and there's absoutely no way I'm stopping to help her come down from this one, especially when she's still fucking coming the way she is.
"Ell… Elliot… I can't, FUCK! I'm still… it's still going."
She says it like I don't fucking know already, "I know, baby. Keep coming." She's so tight and so wet. I can feel every time her body lets out a new gush of fluid and I swear the way it wraps perfectly around my cock and starts to drip out of her, it's literally running down my balls, makes me twitch inside of her. I want to watch, want to see the way my dick coated in her fluid moves in and out but I know I can't handle that shit right now, especially if I'm on a mission to make her come more than once, although this fucking orgasm she's having seems to be never ending. She's trying to twist her hips out of my grip again but her face is still contorted in pleasure, not pain, so I know I'm not causing her any discomfort. I'm pretty sure it's a reflex because her body is thrumming with the ecstasy rolling through her veins but I don't want to mess up our rhythm, mess up her pleasure in any way and with the current movement of her hips, that's exactly what's going to happen. "Stop moving, Liv! I'm going to lose this. Just relax, baby. Let it happen. I'm… fuck… I got you."
She whimpers and I really wish I could get my lips on hers right now. It would probably help her relax… some. But that would cause a shift in our movement as well and I am not changing anything until this orgasm is completely over. I press my finger the tiniest bit harder against her clit, make her yelp out some version of something, make her hips buck up, make her hands release their death grip on the edge of the table to fly upwards. I'm not sure what she's reaching for, if she's even reaching for anything at the moment, but my hips thrust at the perfect time her arm reaches her head, causing her arm to fly outwards and smack perfectly into the vase full of flowers I sent to her a few days ago. The vase falls, the water spills, the flowers tumble outwards and with the rough movement of my hips, the vase just keeps on rolling until it's shattering somewhere on the floor underneath the table. I try to pull her body over to protect her hair that she cares so much about now but her scream of, "NO!" causes me to halt that movement. Alright baby, I won't change anything, although that's exactly what she was just trying to do.
Her fingers of one hand thread in her scalp, the other grips the other side of the table and I feel it before she even says it. "Fuck! ELLLIIIIIIOOOOOOTT!" I swear, it sounds like a strangling sob releasing from the back of her throat, "I have to… I'm going to…"
"Fuck yes, Liv. Squirt baby, I got you. Tell me when." I don't usually need to be told when she's about to make a mess, I can feel it. But we're alone and I want to hear her. Because, I don't get to really hear her that often. I'm so focused on her, I'm always so focused on her, that I can ignore my own need to come for a while. I'm not sure how, but throughout the months we've been together I've gotten really fucking good at it and sometimes, some nights, she makes it a mission to make me come as quick as possible. To prove a point, I think. Although there's no point to prove.
I feel her inner muscles push at me. The way they do when they want me to pull out so her fluid can release but I'm still waiting for her to tell me when. This squirting thing was something new for the two of us. I not only had to learn how to make her do it in different positions, she also had to learn how to relax enough to do it in those different positions. And it's something we both really enjoy. Well, she doesn't enjoy the clean up but I mostly take care of that for us and both of our mattresses are pretty much rendered useless by now, we have stacks of towels designated at both houses to lay underneath her, but she's learned how to be pretty quiet during them and from what she's told me they are the most incredible, satisfying orgasms she's ever had in her life. And what man doesn't want to give their woman that over and over again.
But we've learned the more I push through the pushes, the better the end result is for her and we've both learned her breaking point really fucking well. So when she screams, "NOW!", I'm already pulling out of her.
The stream is powerful and hot between us. The fluid both bouncing off my belly and landing back on hers and running down on the ground. This is going to be a really big mess to clean up tonight, though I don't fucking care. My finger stays constant on her clit, my eyes drag down to watch how fucking sexy her pussy looks and when I notice her trying to sit up on the table, I use my free hand to wrap around her back to help her. Olivia likes to watch. She always tells me how much bullshit it is that men get the amazing views during these situations and she's really right. So right, that we have mirrors shoved into both of our nightstands to aid her in seeing what I get to see.
Her eyes fall in between us and she says, "Again! Make me do it again."
No problem. No fucking problem at all. I slam back into her, keep my thrusts purposeful against her sweet spot, keep my thumb pressed firmly against her clit, at this point I know she's over sensitized there so I don't want to over stimulate her, and when I feel that push once more, I pull out. I've already watched her do it once and this time, I want to watch her face as she watches herself.
And when I see her lips curve up even through her loud moans, I have to say something. I mean, we both love the talking anyways. "It's a good view, huh baby?" She nods, cries out when I slam back into her again, "I love how fucking hard you come, Liv. I want to make up everything I've done wrong to you through this." I really fucking do. Every inch of pain I've caused her, every inch of pain I wasn't here to protect her from, I want to make it up to her in between her thighs. It's, this, is what she deserves. Every fucking chance she can get it, it's what she deserves.
"God, El. You do… mmhhm, aaahhh… you, fuck, Elliot… you really do."
Her arms are around my neck now, her lips seeking mine, and when I feel that push again, I rub my nose lightly against her, "You have more, baby?"
She nods, tightens her grip around my neck, "Yeesss.. "
Damn. Her lips have found mine and this time they're not punishing. Her lips are soft, sensual, her tongue coming out to soothe over the swollen flesh, her sucks smooth and deep, a stark difference to earlier, and when I pull out this time, she releases her scream onto my lips.
This time I push back inside of her, slow the tempo of my hips just a bit, run my hand sensually up her soaked back. As much as I love fucking the shit out of her, I love making love to her even more. I like the closeness, the sensualness, the intimacy, it's what I need to come and she knows that.
"I want you to come," she whispers. As she speaks, her hands finally work on pushing my fucking sweater of my shoulders, on pulling this ripped tank top off of me and since she can get me naked, I'm getting her naked too dammit.
And she finally lets me. Let's me push her coat and shirt off, let's me unhook her bra, let's me drag my hand down her leg to remove her right boot carefully and pull her pants the rest of the way off. I'm just about to find a rhythm inside of her that will work for both me and her, because shit, I want her to fucking come again when she pushes against my chest softly.
"I want to be on top," she says and okay. I have no fucking issue with that, at all.
"Anything you want, Liv." Anything. She likes that answer, gives me a smile, runs her hand along the back of my head, tightens her thighs around my waist so I can lift her off this table. "The couch okay?"
"Yeah, lay that blanket down." We're soaked, her more than me because of the goddamn vase of flowers and the last thing either of us needs is Noah to sit on a wet spot.
The woman likes how strong I am. The fact that I can lay this blanket down to protect the cushions without even fumbling on my hold on her, makes her clench around me. Makes her moan in satisfaction. She's already told me that she's never been with a man who could carry her so effortlessly, and I vow to always be able to carry her like this.
When I go to sit down, she uses her toes to push my sweatpants the rest of the way down my legs, tells me to kick my shoes off and situates herself perfectly on top of me. Each calf resting on either side of my thighs.
She slides her tongue sensually back into my mouth, grips my shoulders and starts to move her hips back and forth. It doesn't take her too long to find a rhythm that's rewarding for her, her clit rubbing softly against my pubic bone, her hips rocking slow but purposeful so the tip of my dick knocks into her sweet spot and when she moans my name on a thrust of my hips, I growl, "There you go, baby."
"God, Elliot. I don't know… mmm. I don't know if I can handle another one."
I know she's spent but I want her even more spent. I want her to not be able to move. I want her to collapse on top of me and fall asleep for the night and that's exactly what she's going to do. "You can, Liv. Just one more. I'll come with you." We love coming together. Something about the way our bodies seem to come in tune with one another, is out of this world. It's earth shattering and mind blowing, makes us both lose everything but the fact that we're joined together and nothing can top that. Nothing. She moans lightly, picks up the pace of her hips slightly, whimpers when I grab her ass and squeeze to assist her rocking. "Can you do that, baby? Just one more with me."
The woman really does love my voice. She loves when I walk her through every step of her orgasm out loud. So when she clenches again, I groan. "Yeah, you can. I can feel you building up again…"
"You… El. You too."
She doesn't want to have another orgasm alone and I get that. I really do. "I am. You… God, Olivia… you feel so fucking good. You always feel so fucking good. I love it when we're like this."
"Mmm, me too, El."
She clenches again, I twitch and almost. "Almost there, baby." I groan, thrust my hips up harder into her.
She picks up the pace of her hips even more, moans, "Me too… can you… can we…"
"What baby? What do you need?"
"Deeper. I need you deeper.. "
I sure can do that. My hands tighten on her ass, pull her as hard against me as I can, push my hips up against her, so she's taking all of me and hold us that close together while I rock her hips back and forth.
"Fuck, yes, like that. And faster…"
I'm essentially the one doing the work now, my hands controlling the fast and deep movement of her hips. My balls are winding tighter, my dick is throbbing, and come on, baby. "Come on, Liv. Take what's yours."
My seed is of no use to us now. I have myself to blame for that. And there's been more than one instance where I have broken down next to her for not getting my shit together earlier. I could have given her a baby, could have given her babies and I fucked that up. Just like I've fucked a lot of things up. But she's held me, told me it was okay, assured me over and over again that Noah is more than she ever dreamed for.
But although it's no use, I still want her to have it. I still want a piece of me inside of her, just in case. We both know it will never happen but it's comforting, to the both of us.
"Now, Elliot!"
Thank god because I don't know how much longer I was going to be able to do that. My balls tighten once more, before they fucking explode with a growl of her name. The pleasure radiating all the way up my shaft as I pull her against me hard to shoot deep inside of her. Her body clenches against me, milks me for every drop it has to give her. She whimpers and moans and says my name like a mantra. God, I love this woman. So fucking much. And I have to tell her so.
"I love you, Olivia," my voice is laced with emotion because her? I don't deserve her, I really don't. And she will never know how grateful I am for this, for her.
She kisses me deeply, whispers, "I love you too, Elliot. So much."
We take a minute to come back to ourselves, our breathing heavy, our kisses deep, and when she can speak a little more she says against my lips, "You can't do what you did today, Elliot. I know I'm yours and I know you don't like men looking at me but I'm going to hear shit from McGarth and you're always the one who tells me you don't want me to stress so much at work. What you did today, adds stress to work."
I nod because I know that. But that doesn't change the fact of why I was upset as well. "I understand. But it's not only looking at you, Liv. I don't like them all up on you. Everyone knows we're together."
"Exactly, El. Everyone knows. So even if he tries to ask me out, he knows it's not going to happen. But I will try to be more aware of those ogling down my shirt. You are right with that part. He didn't need to be so close."
"Damn right he didn't." That fucking ADA.
She smiles lightly, kisses me again, "And I do not get jealous."
This woman. My hand raises up enough to spank her ass just the way she likes me too and I chuckle. "You're so full of shit."
She laughs too because she fucking knows she is.
