Summary: Olivia books a hotel room and invites Elliot. It's time she gets what she deserves.

This is another version of Olivia taking Rollin's advice in the SVU finale - just one of the many ways it could happen.

This takes place sometime after the finale, likely a week or so later. Elliot needs to heal and Olivia has to find someone to watch Noah.

Author's Notes: No beta, so there may be mistakes. Like all my other stories, I get in a rush to get the story out and tend to overlook small typos.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy. Comments, favorites, and follows are always appreciated.

Thanks!

P.S. EO is endgame!

EO-EO-EO-EO-EO

Really? A hotel bar? Elliot thinks as he steps out of his Uber on the curb in front of the nice hotel. He peers up seeing that the hotel extends at least 35 stories into the night sky.

Olivia had texted him a few hours ago asking if he was free this evening. And when he'd replied in the affirmative, she asked him to meet her at this bar at 8:00 p.m., "in one of your fancy suits."

He couldn't figure out what exactly she intended for the evening. He thought about it as he fastened the tiny buttons on his blue vest and tied the laces on his shiny shoes. Was this finally a date? Or was she going to dump a drink in his face for not inviting her to his medal ceremony and she just wanted to ruin a nice suit? Whatever it was, he didn't care. He was going to meet her there and on her terms. He was going to prove to her that she could depend on him to always show up. No more ghosting, no more undercover, no more anything but being wherever she asked.

He sees her the second he steps into the bar. She's sitting in a tall chair at the bar, sipping a glass of wine with her back to him. She hasn't seen him yet. She has on a black dress, one with a sexy dip revealing the smooth, tan skin of her upper back. She can't be wearing a bra with that, he thinks. And then promptly scolds himself for the thought – a two-decade old habit, from when she was his partner and he was married and not allowed to look or contemplate her underwear, or lack thereof. Her hair is down, covering part of her upper back. And her feet, in strappy heels, are on the rung of the bar seat, tapping anxiously against the metal.

"Hey you," Elliot says gently, placing his hand on the bare skin of her back, reveling in the heat and smooth feel of her skin on his palm, when he takes the chair next to her.

She gives him a quick look up and down and grins when she sees that he's wearing a three-piece fitted suit as she'd requested.

"Hmm, you do know how to listen to instructions," she teases.

"Only the ones I want to listen to," he responds, meeting her smile.

She just takes a drink of her wine.

Elliot lifts his hand to signal to the bartender and orders a whiskey neat. They sit in a comfortable silence, sipping on their drinks until Elliot is ready to figure out why she called him to this bar.

"So…?" he starts.

"So?" she repeats.

"So, what's the deal with this place?" Elliot asks, gesturing around the bar.

Olivia knows what he means, but she needs time to steady her nerves for what she's about to do, so she plays coy and asks, "What do you mean?"

"Why did you ask me here, Liv?" he asks directly, and explains, "I thought maybe you wanted me to meet you for dinner, but they don't serve food."

"Well, um…" She trails off anxiously and digs into the small clutch purse sitting on the bar next to her near empty glass. She thinks that just showing him will be easier than saying the words. She takes a deep breath and then sets two key cards on the bar, pushing the top one towards him.

Elliot's eyes widen in shock when he sees the key cards. He gulps and looks at her questioningly, his head tilted and eyebrows shot. He knows what he thinks this means, what he so desperately wants this to mean, but he doesn't want to jump to conclusions.

"Look, El. I don't know what to say, but…uh," she fumbles, "I just…I just think it's time."

"Time?" he asks.

"Time for us," Olivia clarifies.

"Time for us?" he repeats her words again, his head cocked.

Frustrated and a little embarrassed, she snaps at him, "Stop repeating what I'm saying."

"Sorry," Elliot apologizes quickly, "I just want to make sure I'm hearing you correctly."

"You are," Olivia confirms.

And when he nods and looks down at the key cards and back to her, she continues, "I've given this a lot of thought, some prompted by my therapist and squad even, but I think it's time for us to address the elephant in the room."

"And we are going to do that in a fancy hotel room?" he questions.

"We don't have to," Olivia says, though she hopes that he wants to continue this conversation in the room she's booked.

Again, Elliot just nods in response and swallows, "So, the elephant…" he starts.

Olivia takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and then looks at him "We…I…um," she doesn't know exactly how to say it, to tell him that she's thought about them a lot over the years, especially this last year, and she's ready. She's ready to give them a shot. To open her life back up to him, to chase down what she wants and what she deserves. And she's fairly certain that it's what he wants, too.

"I want there to be an 'Us,' El," she finally admits with a shrug, and looking down at the bar.

His mouth is dry from swallowing so many times, but this is not how he thought the evening would turn out. He takes a drink of his whiskey, letting the alcohol burn his throat. He doesn't know what to say. He knows what he wants. He wants her. He's wanted her longer than he's been allowed to want her. He just can't believe that she's finally admitted to wanting him, too. He's even more shocked by her bluntness, reserving a hotel room for the two of them to become an "us."

She's surprised by his silence, during which each second feels like an hour, so she continues, "That's what you want too, right? I mean, I thought...everyone has said…and we've been…you've been…Shit!" she finally exclaims when he's still not said anything. She's completely thrown. She thought that he wanted her, but he's barely said two words since she pulled out the key cards. Maybe this was too forward? Maybe everyone was wrong, maybe I was wrong, he doesn't want me as anything more than a friend. Fuck! How did I screw this up?

Elliot senses her panic and places his hand on hers, "Yes Liv," he nods, "that's what I want too. I want there to be an 'us.'"

He can see the relief flow through her body, her shoulders relax, and he can hear her take a shaky breath.

"Good, that's good," she whispers with a nod.

He grins at her and mimics her nod, his blue eyes sparkling, "Yes, that's good."

They sit there in silence again, facing the bar in front of them, each taking a drink. His hand is still on hers and his thumb is rubbing the back of her hand.

"So…?" he taps on the key card.

"So?" she replies, parroting their previous interaction.

"This a key to a room here?" Elliot asks.

"Yes," she answers with a nod.

"A room for us?" he clarifies.

Olivia nods shyly, but confirms, "Yes. I booked a room for us." Knowing she'd been correct, that he did want to move forward, push their friendship to a romantic relationship, she feels brave again. And she did book a room for a reason, they might as well use it.

Elliot says nothing as he turns towards her again, but takes a second to read her eyes, making sure that this is really what she wants. Seeing nothing to dispute her words but rather a teasing glint in her eye and her teeth biting her bottom lip, he hops down from his chair and shoots the rest of his whiskey.

"Come on," he says as he slips one of the keys in jacket pocket and begins to tug her from her seat.

"Hold on," Olivia says, pulling her hand from his.

"What?" Elliot questions quickly, fearful that he misread the situation. He was certain that she'd just confirmed that they were going to move forward and that she'd booked a hotel room for them to start that journey right now, but he could be wrong. Did he just imagine the entire conversation?

Seeing the fear in his eyes, Olivia reassures him as she digs in her clutch again, "Calm down, I just need to pay."

"Oh, here, I got," he says relieved and two twenties on the bar while she puts her key back in her purse.

"Okay, ready," she says as she grabs his hand again.

Elliot speeds out of the bar, pulling her behind him, his head whipping back and forth looking for the elevator.

"Right there," Olivia points out the elevator bank through the lobby. He nods and continues dragging her behind him.

"Come on, come on, come on," he mutters as slams his thumb against the "UP" button over and over.

"El, it's coming. Breathe," she instructs, grinning at the way his chest is puffed out and his eyes are passing between the closed elevator doors in front of them.

He chuckles, shaking his head and mutters to himself, "How can I breathe? I can't breathe, I'm dreaming."

She smiles at him as the elevator dings and the doors open. He pulls her into the car, and once he sees it's empty, he pulls her against him, gripping the back of her head and slamming her lips to his.

He parts his lips almost immediately, so he can pull her bottom lip between his. He quickly tilts his head, parts his lips, and presses his tongue against her lips pressuring her to open her mouth. He groans when she does, the feeling of his tongue gliding over hers is electric. His arm wraps around her back, squeezing out any remaining air between them.

After the initial shock of his mouth on hers, she kisses him back. She knew, theoretically that is, that if all went well with her proposition that Elliot would kiss her. His lips would be on hers, his tongue would be in her mouth, his body would be pressed against hers - hopefully naked, and his hands would hold her and roam over her body. But she hadn't prepared herself for the reality of it all.

The kiss overwhelmed her senses. She could feel his entire body pressed against hers and his fingers threaded through her hair, holding her head to his; his scent filtered in her nose as she breathed deeply, comforted by its familiarity; and the taste of his lips was a combination of whiskey and a subtle hint of mint, as if he'd chewed gum on his way to meet her. She could barely breath with the excitement of it all, and with Elliot's soft lips and tongue bruising her mouth in a demanding kiss.

Olivia pulls away breathlessly, and whispers against his lips, "Twenty-third floor, El."

It takes him a moment to realize what she's saying and the fact that he never pushed the floor button. He presses his finger over the "23" and then once he sees it light up, he attaches his lips back to hers. He can't stop now. The dam has broken, the floodgates are open, she'd waved the green flag, and he's not going to let up.

They kiss hotly, wetly until the door dings and opens letting in a young couple, maybe in their 30s who grin at the sight. Elliot and Olivia pull away from each other quickly, their eyes hit the floor and they blush embarrassed as they stand side-by-side, shoulders touching, and backed into the rear of the car.

Olivia can't believe it. She can't believe herself, the fact that she was bold enough to say what she wanted. And she can't believe that he jumped on her suggestion, almost immediately, but without question or reservation. He said, out loud, that he wanted her—them, and then he kissed her, hot and hard, in this very elevator. The one that was taking them to the hotel room she booked for them to…well, get it out of their system. Or jump start the fire that will blaze through their systems, never being satisfied, she thinks because there was no way that this was only going to happen once. Not after they agreed that they were going to be an "us."

The young couple gets off on the 22nd floor and Elliot gives Olivia a predatory gaze and an ornery grin as he moves towards her again once the doors close.

Olivia shakes her head at him, "Stay over there El, we are on the next floor."

"But," he says, placing his hands on her hips, trying to pull her back against him.

"I'm serious," Olivia counters, putting her hands up on his chest, holding him back. "Let's just get into the room."

The door dings again and Olivia pushes past him. He follows her out of the elevator and around the corner.

"2302, good number," Elliot mutters as he walks up directly behind her, pressing his front to her back, and his arms on the door frame, caging her in once she reaches the door. "Hurry Olivia," he whispers as he nips on the shell and lobe of her ear.

She drops the card to the floor.

"Pick it up," he says.

"El, I need room," she replies, needing space to bend over.

"No," he says as he refuses to budge from behind her but places his hands on her hips.

"Give me the card you have in your pocket," she demands breathlessly.

But he just says, "Pick up the card, Liv."

She's shocked and turned on by his commanding tone and husky voice, and bends at her waist to reach for the card, forcing her ass to press against his pelvis. He groans quietly at the contact. She gasps surprised, he'd hard already, just from their kissing in the elevator or maybe it's the excitement and anticipation of what to come. She focuses her mind on her own body and can feel the heat between her own thighs.

She stands straight with the card in hand. "I can't unlock the door with you on me like this," she complains. And it's true. Just his body heat and thought of his lips returning to hers has her trembling. The the gravity of the situation as consumed her thoughts. This is just Elliot, calm down, she thinks. But then the reality is too much, this IS Elliot. Elliot is behind you. It's Elliot pressing into you, begging you to open the door to this hotel room so he can…well...

She's unable to slide the card in the slot.

"Let me," Elliot says hoarsely, letting his hot breath wash over her neck as he pushes her gently against the door. He's pleased when he sees her eyes flutter closed and a small shudder make its way through her body. He slides the card from her and in and out of the slot. "There," he says, again with his lips against her neck, when the light turns green and he hears the lock click.

He ushers her in the door, his hands having returned to her hips. Once the door closes behind them he turns them around and presses her against it once more, this time more roughly as his mouth covers hers again, with his body following suit. They are touching from shoulders to toes and she can feel his erection on her hip. His kisses are heated and urgent, his tongue thrusts into her mouth as his hands run up and down her side. She's active in the kiss but he's leading it.

He pulls back and trails kisses down her jaw. "This is what you meant, right? With the keys? The room?" he asks against her skin. He knows the answer. If this hadn't been what she meant, if she had just wanted to talk it out, she would have already pushed him away, yelled at him for being presumptuous, or actually slapped him, or worse. But he wants her to say it, to tell him that she wants this.

"Yes," she answers.

"You want me?" he presses.

"Yes," she repeats, mewing as he nips at her neck and pulls her hips against his.

"If you want to stop, I need to know," he says before drawing in a small patch of skin on her neck and sucking lightly.

"Don't want…to stop," she pants, goosebumps spreading over her skin, "but will need to…be horizontal soon," she admits. He's strong, having muscled up in his decade away, but her legs are weak, and she wants his hands to be free to move all over her rather than stuck holding her up against the door.

"Got it," he mumbles as pulls back completely and drags her into the room. "Nice room," he notes teasingly.

"Better be for what it cost," she jokes as she tries to calm her body, though she's enjoying his intensity and urgency.

"I'll split it with you," he grumbles.

"Not necessary," Olivia responds. As a life-long public servant, she's never made a massive income, but as a Captain and living single and fairly frugally most of her life, she can afford to splurge every once in a while. And she wanted a nice room for this. If he'd turned her down, she wanted a great jacuzzi tub and a giant, soft bed to drown her sorrows in. But he said yes, and now she's going to enjoy the room as intended.

Once they're standing at the edge of the bed, he's on her again, kissing her ardently, the tip of his tongue teasing hers. His hands are on her back, stroking up and down, searching for the zipper.

"It's on the side," she mutters as she pushes his jacket off his shoulders and moves her fingers to the small buttons on his vest.

He doesn't respond, he just moves his hand to her side, but before he can tug on the tiny zipper, she's made quick work on one set of buttons, pushing the vest off, and moving to the even smaller buttons on his shirt.

"You wear too many clothes…" she complains, desperate to feel his skin. Now that they've started, she doesn't want to slow down. Her body is alight with desire, she's not felt arousal like this in years. She knows that only part of it is responsive to their actions - kissing and groping. Most of it is excitement about the two of them. Years of desire built up, compounding on each other with each touch, each look, each dream. And now, it's ready to explode within her. She's felt his lips, his hands, his arousal. Yes, she's desperate to feel his skin.

He chuckles, "You requested this, remember?"

She nods, "I did. You look so good in these new suits, but I'm regretting my request now. Next time just wear a t-shirt."

"Will do, Cap," he agrees with an ornery smirk as she finally pushes his last layer off and runs her hands up and down his torso.

"Don't you start with that," she instructs without taking her eyes off his chest.

Wiggling his eyebrows at her, Elliot teases, "Why, does it get you hot?"

She doesn't answer but meets his eyes with a wink.

"Can I take this off now?" he asks with his fingers back on the zipper of her dress.

"Yes," she answers, but doesn't wait for his move before starting on his belt buckle.

The dress slides down her body smoothly, and the weight of his belt and items in his pockets drop his pants to the floor with a soft thunk.

And the flurry of movement stops.

His eyes start at the ground and slowly move up her body, pausing briefly to take in the lace and silky material covering her intimate parts at her waist and then again when his early premonition is proven true and he sees her bare chest. Her eyes stay on his face, watching his reaction, noticing how his eyes dilate and seeing in her periphery how his chest expands with each deep inhale as he moves up her body. Finally, when their eyes meet they share a smile.

Olivia steps out of her dress and toward him, arms outstretched. And then she hugs him. She snuggles her nose into his neck, inhaling his scent, and reveling in the warmth of his bare chest pressed against hers.

"I've missed you, Liv," Elliot says softly, squeezing her body to his.

"Me too," Olivia replies.

They take a few more seconds to just hold each other before Elliot pulls back from the hug, gripping Olivia's shoulders so he can look at her face. When he does, he sees big brown eyes full of unshed tears.

"Hey, what's this?" he asks and cups her cheeks, "You can't be sad now."

"Not sad," she tells him quietly, "happy, oh so happy."

He meets her soft smile and presses his lips back to hers in a chaste kiss. "Come on, let's get into the bed," he says, but stumbles and then they both laugh when they realize that his feet are stuck in his pants because he still has on his shoes.

Thankful for the levity and the break in the tension, Olivia sits on the bed and slips off her strappy heels while Elliot bends over and unties his laces, then toes off his shoes and socks as he finally steps from his pants.

"There, no more pesky footwear," Elliot remarks as he stands in front of her, parting her thighs so he can get closer and bends down to kiss her.

"No, no more," Olivia agrees against his lips, tipping her head up halfway.

Just as before, Elliot deepens the kiss quickly, and uses his hands on her shoulders to direct her back onto the bed. They break apart only so Olivia can move back to the head of the bed, laying her head on the pillows. Elliot crawls over her, kissing at the tops of her breasts and up her neck before reaching her lips again. And he kisses her and kisses her, nipping and sucking at her lips, twisting and gliding his tongue over hers; his hands remain relatively calm, just running gently up and down her sides.

Olivia's not sure why she's surprised, but she is. She'd always thought that Elliot wouldn't be the type of man to spend so much time and energy on kissing. In the few moments of weakness when she'd let her mind wonder what type of lover Elliot would be, she always thought he'd be intense and passionate, but urgent and needy, moving straight to the pieces part of the main event, especially with her. She thought that if this had ever happened between them, it would have been fierce and forceful like an unstoppable cascade of water bursting through a wrecked dam. That there wouldn't be a second to spare on extra kissing.

Now that they are here, she's grateful that they've slowed, taken it down a notch from their prior heady rush to the room and get naked. She wants them to take their time with each other and really enjoy this. But quickly her body starts to crave friction, she needs him to touch her, to run his hands down her heated skin, grip her flesh, and appease her ache.

"Elliot," she whimpers, dragging her lips from his.

"Hmmm?" he hums against her neck.

"Touch me," she begs.

"I am," he huffs.

"No, really touch me," she begs again, arching her back slightly.

Elliot pulls back from her and meets her arousal drooped eyes with his own, "I'm not letting you rush me Olivia. I've waited too long. I want to do this right."

"I don't think there is a wrong way to do this," she pushes back.

"Olivia," now he's begging.

"Touch me," she insists again.

He doesn't answer but moves off her body and lays on his side next to her, propped up on his elbow. He runs his thumb under her lip and lets his fingers rest heavily against her jaw and neck before sliding down to her chest, where he squeezes one breast tightly and then the other. Mesmerized by the flesh spilling over his hands.

Olivia moans, "yes," in response to the sensation and watches as he finally leans over to draw one nipple into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over the bud and letting his hand grip the other and then roll that nipple between his fingers. Spurred on by her whimpers, he wetly kisses his way to her other breast to give it the same treatment and rubs his hand down her belly, and groans at the feel of her soft stomach beneath his rough palm.

"You are so beautiful, Liv, so sexy, '' he mutters as he kisses back up to her mouth.

Distracted by his tongue and lips once again, Olivia doesn't feel his hand move lower until his fingers are running through her curls under her panties and cupping her.

"Oh," she exclaims.

"Okay?" Elliot questions her sudden outcry.

"Yes."

"Good," he replies with a smile as he uses his fingers to spread her open and runs his fingers over her, adding more pressure and gathering her arousal, moving to her clit. "Uh, Liv, you are so hot and wet," he whispers, kissing her again.

Olivia's hips move against his hand, longing for the feel of his fingers in her and frustrated by his slow pace, she begs, "please."

"Yes," is all he says when he sinks his two middle fingers into her and pressing his palm against her clit and letting her move against him.

Olivia finally moves her hands to his body, somewhat awkwardly from her position on her back with him partially draped over her. But she manages to snake one hand between them and now she's cupping him.

"Shit Liv," he says as he pulls his lips from hers and looks at her hand with wide, disbelieving eyes.

She strokes him a few times over his briefs before managing to get her hand under the cotton material and on his heated flesh. Olivia rubs her thumb over his head, spreading the moisture that had collected there and begins stroking him again. "Ah, ah, Liv…"

Rather than resume kissing, Elliot and Olivia watch each other, taking in how the other's body moves and responds. At some point they pause to wiggle out of their underwear, tossing them on the floor, and giving each other full access to touch and look.

He tells her that she's beautiful, sexier than he could have imagined, and he's imagined several times. She scoffs at the suggestion, not only because he knew her when she was younger, more fit, but because he's grown fitter during their separation.

"I'm serious, Liv," he tells her, seriousness in his tone and eyes, "I never want to stop looking at you. After tonight, I might just burn all your clothes, force you to be naked all the time."

"Whatever you say, El," she says with a short laugh, not meeting his eyes, but roaming her hands over his shoulders, chest, and abdomen.

"Exactly, whatever I say, and I say you are beautiful."

Elliot's fingers return to her, plunging in and out of her as he thumbs over her clit. Olivia's hand glides over him consistently, changing only to twist her wrist to rub around the tip before she returns to his shaft. After taking their fill they lock eyes, watching the waves of pleasure roll through their depths. They stayed quiet, trying to break the heady reverie created between them, the only sounds are their mutual moans and gasps, and an infrequently "oh" or "ah."

Olivia is the first to break eye contact. She slams her eyes shut and tosses her head back, her back arches slightly and she tightly grips one of her own breasts and pinches her nipple. "El," she draws out, breathless and whiny.

"What do you need, baby?" Elliot asks likewise short of breath and desperate to get her off.

"Ung…" is all she gets out, she's so close, too close for words. Her other hand stops its strokes and she reaches to grip his bicep, but he's already moved.

Elliot kneels next to her hip and leans over to lick, then suck her clit into his mouth, never stopping the strong stroke of his fingers. That does it, sending Olivia careening over the edge. Her entire body tenses, as her muscles spasm and she clenches around his fingers, with the relief that floods through her.

"Fuck, so sexy, goddamn you are so sexy, Liv," he whispers when he pulls back to observe her.

When she finally comes down, she opens her eyes and sees his blue ones, wide and sparkling, gazing at her. Still trying to catch her breath, Olivia beckons Elliot to her with her finger. He covers her body immediately.

"Ready for me," he asks, feeling his cock poke against her ass, which was wet with her arousal, as he settles his hips over hers and rests on his forearms.

Olivia nods, "Yes, I need you."

"You have me, Liv. And you always will from now on. I promise," Elliot vows as he uses a hand, his fingers still damp from her, to guide to her entrance and press into her.

She gasps as he pants out little puffs of air and then clenches his teeth, gritting out another "fuck."

Olivia wraps her hands around his back, dragging her fingers down the taut muscles and sweaty flesh she finds there. "You okay?"

He huffs out a short laugh, "No, I'm not. This is…" he trails off, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder. Overwhelming, exciting, unbelievable, all of the above he couldn't decide the appropriate descriptor.

"Yea, it is," she agrees, her vocabulary also failing her at the moment.

Olivia gives him a minute to collect himself, pull together his resolve, before she sets her legs over the back of his calves and runs her hands down to his ass, pressuring him to move. He does, slowly, softly grinding his hips over hers, pleasuring them both while keeping them fully connected, not wanting to leave her warmth quite yet.

"El, move," Olivia urges him.

He lifts his head and smiles at her continued insistence at picking up the pace.

"I am," he responded cheekily. He's honestly not sure that he is going to last if he does start thrusting.

She huffs at him with narrowed eyes, and he grins even more. But he listens. Elliot pulls his hips back and begins moving in long, measured strokes; smoothly pulling himself from her and easing back in completely before withdrawing again. He pulls on one of her arms, until he can grab her hand and entwine their fingers, pushing their hands into the pillow by her head.

Since she's already come, she's building back up towards her second orgasm and needs more than Elliot's slow and deliberate thrusts to get her there. But she lets him take his time. Watching him, she can tell that this is what he needed; to take his time moving inside her, letting her wet heat slowly envelope him over and over, and pressing his body to hers with his hand in hers. His head is dropped, and his eyes are closed, but not squeezed shut. His mouth is open as he takes deep breaths, and mutters "oh god," "so good," and a few expletives between grunts.

The movement feels exquisite she thinks, and she lets him take his time until she feels like she could actively chase her second release. Then she whispers "Get on your back, El."

"Huh?" he asks, too focused to hear her instructions.

"On your back," she repeats, pushing against his chest gently.

"Oh," he says, "you got it Captain." And he pulls out of her with a groan and sits up against the headboard.

She smirks at him, "Nuh uh, I said on your back," she admonished playful with a quick tap on his thigh.

"Sorry Cap, this is the best I can do," Elliot replies, holding his hands out wide, inviting her to his lap. He could get on his back, but what's the fun in blindly following instructions?

"I take back what I said earlier about you following instructions," Olivia remarks as she straddles his thighs on her knees.

"Only the ones I wa…shit," he exhales harshly, and grits out. She'd gripped his cock and sank down on him

"That good, huh?" she teases and starts to move, lifting herself up and sliding back down.

"You have no idea," he huffs with a shake of his head.

"Oh, I think I do," Olivia counters, he feels good, filling her over and over, stretching her perfectly.

Elliot groans when she picks up her pace. He tried to keep himself from the edge earlier, wanting to prolong their love-making as much as he could, savor every thrust, catalog each sensation. But clearly, Olivia was ready to move things along. She'd quickly picked up her pace and was moving on him rapidly. She had one hand in her hair and the other on his shoulder for leverage: she was moving with a purpose, seeking, reaching, chasing the edge. He can hear her gasping, muttering "yes, yes," "oh," and "damn," under her breath.

Elliot put his hands on her hips and guided them towards him on each upward movement, so her clit rubbed along his pubic bone or low belly.

"Oh, you feel so good, El," she tells him as she leans forward, burying her head in his neck, biting and sucking the salty skin she finds there. She lets him guide her hips, rocking her into him as he slams her up and down on his cock.

"I'm close," he admits gruffly.

"Then come," she pants, "I want to feel you."

"Need you…to…come," he sputters, trying to hold out but knowing it's a lost cause. He can feel the telltale tingle at the base of his spine, his balls tighten towards his body.

"I'm gonna," she assures him. And is. Not that she'd ever tell him for fear that he'd get too cocky, but he was right, this position was better than what she'd initially proposed with him flat on his back. He was deep inside her, stroking into her perfectly, and the hair dusting his low belly provided delicious stimulation.

He grabs her hips and slams them down on him as he thrusts up and explodes. "Oh! Oh! Fuck Liv!" he calls out loudly.

"Yes, yes, yes," she cries back, thankful that they were doing this in a hotel room. She wouldn't have wanted to hold back on their pleasure, muffling their sounds in pillows, hands, or against the mattress.

Fifteen minutes later, after they let their bodies cool down and cleaned up, they are both resting against the soft headboard, covered only by the sheet, and passing a small open bottle of champagne they took from the mini bar.

"So…?" Elliot starts after the bubbles recede down his throat.

"So?" She repeats, taking the bottle from him and looking over a room service menu.

"Not that I'm complaining, quite the opposite really, I am very happy with this. But what brought it on?"

"You wouldn't believe me," Olivia tells him, not looking up.

"Try me," Elliot pushes.

Olivia looks at him, "At my last therapy appointment, my therapist told me that it was time that I sought out my own happiness, figured out what I deserve and go get it."

He smiles at her, happy that she'd sought him out in the journey. "He's right, you deserve to be happy, Liv."

She continues, "Then, he brought up you specifically, and told me that he thought it was finally time for me to really think about what I wanted, and to either try or move on."

"Smart man."

"Yea," she confirms.

He takes the menu from her, and despite wanting to keep the conversation light, he has to know. "So, you've been thinking about this, talking about us, for a while then?"

"Well, we've always had something…" Olivia says softly,

"Yes, we have…" he affirms, implicitly asking her to continue.

"And after you came back, after everything happened, I really started to wonder. And I know it sounds bad, but all the reasons we couldn't are gone," she admits. She feels guilty at this admission. She knows that Elliot and his children suffered an imaginable loss just over a year ago. But after several months had passed, when Elliot came into her apartment and admitted to writing those beautifully painful words – in a parallel universe, it will always be you and I – she really allowed herself to think of her feelings. But each time they got too painful, their story felt tragic and the future terrifying, she would stuff them back down and go on with her day.

"I get it, there is no need to feel bad," he encourages, "I've thought the same thing."

"But I had to work out, in my own head, if this was what I really wanted, now. If we, after everything - our 13-year partnership, the ten years apart, your grief, my grief and anger, and everything in between - if we both wanted each other now and if we actually wanted to try."

"I do," he says clearly, looking into her eyes, leaving no room for doubt, "I do want you now. I mean, I wanted you then too. I know that time has passed, that things have happened, that we have a lot to discuss. But I want to make myself clear: I want you, who you are now, Olivia."

She grinned. "I want you too – us too. But for now, I want that," she says as she points to a dessert menu.

"Cheesecake? Not the tiramisu?"

"We can get both," she shrugs.

"And fries?"

She just looks at him.

"What, I thought tonight would include dinner. I'm starved," he explains with a shrug and a chuckle.

After another twenty minutes they cuddled on the loveseat in the soft robes provided by the hotel with their selected desserts (and fries) on the coffee table in front of them. Elliot watches as Olivia takes a bite, reaching over to swipe and errant crumb from her lip.

"Early, you mentioned your squad had prompted this. What did they say?" he asks curiously.

"Fin has never stopped joking about us in 20 years. I think he's got a bet to cash in on," she says with a laugh at the thought, "But it was Rollins who called us out the other day."

"Really?" he asks, intrigued now. For all he knew, Rollins didn't like him. "How so?" Elliot prompts.

"She asked how we were doing, after our recent case," Olivia starts.

Elliot interrupts, a mouthful of tiramisu, "I loved working with you, Liv."

"Me too," she says, taking a bite of her own dessert, and starting again once she swallows. "And I told her that; that was good to work with you. But she rolled her eyes at me and told me that the best advice she'd ever received was from her mother, who told her 'why don't you two go get a hotel room and get it out of your system?' referring to Amanda and Carisi."

Elliot let out a deep laugh, his stomach shaking. "What's her address? I need to send her a fruit basket."

She chuckles at his mirth, "Amanda's or her mother's?"

"Both."

A few minutes pass as they finish their desserts.

"So…that's an awfully large jacuzzi tub in the bathroom," Elliot points out.

"It part of the reason I booked this room. I wanted a relaxing bath if I chickened out, or if you, well, you rejected my offer."

He smiles and kisses her sweetly. "There was no chance in hell that I would reject you," he assures her.

Now, half an hour later, they were sitting in the large tub, surrounded by comfortably hot water and the soothing jets, with a couple more tiny champagne bottles on the ledge. Olivia was resting between his legs, her back to his chest. His arms were wrapped around her, holding her hands against her belly, their fingers playing over each other.

"So…?" Elliot starts once more.

"So?" Olivia repeats with a soft giggle, amused at his regular conversation starter this evening.

"Did we get it out of your system?" he asked, leaning down to nip at her shoulder and dipping his hand lower on her belly.

"No," Olivia shrugs, "I don't think we did."

"Well then, let me try again…."