Summary: Part II of Elliot and Olivia's evening in the hotel room.

AN: I couldn't leave it on a sex cliffhanger, now could I?

I didn't plan on writing a part two, but then this sexy bathroom scene came to me. It's a much shorter chapter, but still I hope you enjoy.

Comments, favorites, and follows are always appreciated.

Thanks!

-EO-EO-EO-

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…."

Elliot's hand drifts lower and lower until he's completely covered her, cupping her again. She realizes that she likes this approach as his fingers wiggle over her labia, and his palm grinds into her clit, his whole hand exerting delightful pressure over her core. She tips her head back to rest on his shoulder, her nose breathing in his scent behind his ear.

Her hands move to his muscled thighs, squeezing tightly as his other hand smooths over her breasts to grip around her throat and jaw, angling her head the best he can for a sloppy kiss.

Olivia whimpers into his mouth, as she can feel him starting to grow against her ass and her own arousal spikes. Images of them coupling in the tub flash through her mind, hot and steamy, surrounded by the sounds of water splashing over the sides of the tub. But those images are pushed aside by a fear of injury from slipping or discomfort due to the water impeding, rather than helping her body adjust to him for the second time in so little time.

"El," she mutters as she tries to pull away, but his hand grips her neck incrementally tighter, his thumb pulling at her chin to keep her mouth open to his questing tongue. She moans, sinking back into the kiss, letting her body absorb the heat rising in his flesh.

"El," she tries again a few moments later when his hand retreats from her throat to her breasts, hastily grabbing until he finds her nipple, then expertly pinching and rolling.

"Hmmm?" he responds gruffly, his head tossed back against the tile wall as his hips shift behind her allowing his cock to find purchase against her soft skin under the water, and his fingers spread her labia, seeking her entrance.

"We can't…" she starts.

He interrupts, "I think we proved earlier that we can, very well I might add,"

"No…not here…in the tub," Olivia tries to explain, finding it hard to form words with his hands on her.

Elliot huffs in indignation and argues "Sure we can," as he licks and sucks up the side of her neck, scratching the sensitive skin with the little bit of stubble poking through on his chin, and letting his eyes roam over her body.

Of all of his fantasies about Olivia, sex in a jacuzzi tub had to rank in the top ten, falling in line somewhere behind getting head squad car, bending her over an interrogation table, or quickly fucking her in the cribs knowing that they have to keep quiet or the squad would hear them. And right now, they were not anywhere near a squad car, interrogation room, or the cribs, and Olivia would never let those happen now. But, they were in a steamy, sexy large tub. And he had several ideas on how they could definitely do it in the tub, and at least one of those ideas included the jet of water to their side.

"Please," she begs, knowing that if he pushes the issue, she might just cave. The thought of fucking him right now is tempting enough that she might be able to overlook the risks in the slippery tile.

"We'll get out in a second, Liv, but just let me try something first," he whispers into her ear then sucks the lobe into his mouth, and thrusts a finger into her.

"Uh, uh," she whines, torn between pleasure and discomfort. Damn water, damn age, she thinks, irritated that the heady atmosphere in the bathroom is burst by the realities that hot water is more irritating than helpful right now.

Elliot hears her and pulls his hand back with a quick "sorry." But then he's moving quickly, his hands on her hips, guiding her to her knees and twisting her in the tub so she's facing the side. Olivia looks at him confused but understands when she sees his hand dive under the water to fidget with the nozzle right in front of her. The tub is deep enough that the water level is still at their hips.

"Let me know when," he says as he kneels behind her on the harsh tub floor, nestling his cock back against her cheeks, and continues to redirect the jet stream.

"Oh! There!" she nearly shouts when Elliot succeeded at aiming the stream so the forceful water hits her clit and he pushes her so there is almost no space between her body and the tub wall.

"Yesss," he hisses as he sprinkles her upper back, neck, and shoulders with kisses and small bites, and holding her winding hips in place so he can rub against her as the jet beats against her.

"This is what I wanted," he mutters through the kisses, "to see you, watch you get off, in this giant, luxurious tub that you wanted so badly."

"Oh god," is all she can get out. She's close. The water feels amazing, better than her showerhead at home that she's succumbed to using from time to time, guilty thinking of the bulky, sexy man behind her.

"That's it baby, let go," he says once he sees her body start to tense. He's glad that the nozzle wound her up fast, not only because the tub is cruel on their knees, but because he's desperate to get inside her again. The warm water and her smooth skin feel good, but it's not what he's craving. Not now that he's had her once. He's going to do everything he can to return to her time and time again, every day, multiple times a day, if he has his way.

"Come for me, Liv. Come for me so I can get us out of this tub and fuck you," Elliot says, hopeful that his dirty words spur her on, drive her over the edge.

They do. Spasms begin to wrack her body as her orgasm breaks free. She falls forward, barely holding herself up on the ledge of the tub as she cries out. The tiny champagne bottle clattering to the floor go unnoticed as he leans over her, wrapping his arms around her and pulls her upright against his chest, and panting, "sexy, so sexy," in her ear until she lifts one hand to the back of his head and turns her head to kiss him mindlessly.

When she pulls away, giving him a soft, contented smile, Elliot stands and exits the tubs, then secures his hands on Olivia's waist to help her carefully from the tub. He turns her and presses her ass to the sink and wraps her arms around his middle, supporting her the best he can while he dries her with a nearby towel.

After catching her breath, Olivia presses her lips against his again, this time with intent and purpose, to keep them moving the right direction while they take a quick intermission to dry off. She pulls one hand from his back and begins stroking him, happy to have him, hard, heavy and velvety, in her palm again.

As soon as Elliot has wiped away most of the water drops from her body he steps back, removing himself from her grip, and haphazardly runs the towel over his chest and legs. She turns towards the door and takes a step to head back to the bedroom when he stops her, grabbing her bicep.

"Where are you going?" he asks wide eyed.

She points towards the doorway and answers "To the bed."

"Nuh uh," he says, shaking his head and dropping the towel. "Here, I want you in here." He tugs on her arm and pulls her back between himself and the sink but faces her away from him this time and presses his front to her back again. He loves the feel of her back against his chest, her ass against his pelvis, and the ability to run his cheek and chin across her neck, breathing her in.

"But, if we go to the bed, I can finally take you in my mouth," she says seductively, biting her bottom lip.

Elliot growls in her ear and thrusts his hips against her, "Liv, you can't say those things to me."

"Why not, didn't you just beg me to come so you could fuck me?" she counters playfully, wiggling her ass. She knows he's on edge. But she does want to run her tongue over him, suck him, tease him, taste him, and make him come with her mouth.

"Yes, and that's what I'm going to do," he says, pulling her hips tightly against his again, groaning. "I'm going to do it here, in front of this mirror. I'm going to bend you over and fuck you. Next time you can suck me off."

She gasps and feels her body begin to flush once again. "Hard and hot, El? Are you going to fuck me hard and hot?"

"Yes," he growls again. She decides at that moment that that is her new favorite sound. She wants to hear him say every word in his deep, gravelly voice, set on edge.

"Good," she pants.

Olivia spreads her legs and begins to brace herself for his powerful body and large cock that she feels dripping against her low back. But all of sudden the cool air hits her back where his chest and abdomen had just been. She looks over her shoulder and doesn't see him, but she hears his knees pop and she giggles quietly.

"Wider, spread your legs wider," Elliot commands with one hand on her hip and the other tapping her inner thighs. He had dropped to his knees, thankful for the plush rug on the floor.

She complies, stepping both legs out wider and bending at her waist to make room for him. His hands roughly grip her cheeks, spreading them so he can lean in and swipe his tongue over her. And then he does it again and again, groaning when he finally feels her arousal hit his tongue. He knew that the water, especially the jet, might work against him. It was a risk he was willing to take, though, because the only consequence would be having to take time to taste her, to wind her back up with his tongue and lips, and he had no problem with that.

Elliot attacks her ruthlessly, licking her, driving his tongue into her and around her, harshly sucking on her clit. He's desperate, has been since the tub, since he watched and felt her fall apart because of that damn jet. But he knows that she's got to be ready for him. He promised her hard and hot, and he intends to deliver. But first, he needs her just as desperate as he is, and by the sounds she's making, she's nearly there.

"El," she whines, her hips moving against his mouth.

He pulls away just to mutter, "not yet," and bite her cheek, before returning his tongue to her.

"Now, El," Olivia says with urgency, "now."

Elliot scrambles to his feet, one hand on her hips and the other on himself stroking roughly. "You sure?" he grunts. He has to ask, he has to make sure because he's not going to hold back.

"Now damnit," she huffs at him. He snorts at her command, muttering "yes captain," under his breath as he bends his knees and guides his cock to her entrance, now dripping, and he sinks in.

He doesn't give either of them any time to adjust, he just retreats and plunges back, hard, letting his hips crash into her ass.

"Oh! Yes!" she exclaims, the force of him slamming her thighs into the edge of the sink and causing her to slap her hand onto the flat surface.

"Shit Liv…so hot…so wet," he mutters through gritted teeth as he drives into her over and over.

Elliot moves his hands from her waist to pull her back against his chest again, wrapping one arm around her belly to hold her up and snaking the around her chest and putting his hand back on her throat dragging her mouth to his like he did early, recalling how the slight pressure made her moan in his mouth.

She grips the back of his head and his side squeezes at his side. A few seconds later she wrenches her lips from his so she can breathe.

"Look…Liv…look," he commands and with a nod. She knows what he's telling her. She opens her eyes to see them in the mirror. His strong, veiny forearms are holding her tight, his large, rough hand has dropped to her breast, squeezing the flesh roughly before pinching and tugging at her nipple.

"Sexy, so fucking sexy," he growls in her ear, it's been his mantra all night and each time he says it, she believes him, feels it course through her. And now she sees it—together their naked, flushed skin moving with each thrust is hot, arousing, sexy.

Olivia finally drags her gaze from their bodies to his face, seeing his blue eyes, now a deep, dark shade of blue, but still as soul piercing as ever. Wordlessly they agree to keep their eyes locked, as he continues to pump into her vigorously. Their labored breathing, gasping really, and the sound of skin slapping on skin fills the bathroom for the next couple of minutes. Until Elliot has to break their gaze.

He groans "Liv, uh, fuck," as he returns his hands to her waist, squeezing tightly. His hips sputter, jerk erratically before he pulls her back against him roughly and spills inside of her, grunting and muttering, "fuck, ah, fuck."

Olivia is close and the feel of him shooting hotly into her pushes to her the edge, but it's not until Elliot catches his breath enough to run his hand back over her belly and through her curls to find her clit, just like he did in the tub, putting this whole series of events into action. The added pressure of his fingers finally does it.

"Yes Liv, that's it," he whispers as he watches her shatter in the mirror. Her eyes roll back, her mouth gapes open, he can see her body try to clench and tense against his arms, and she cries "Oh! Yes, Yes, Yes!" Her hands reach back seeking purchase in the skin of his sides, digging in harshly.

He stills his fingers and returns his damp hand to her hip, and ducks, pressing his forehead to the base of her neck.

"Damn," he exhales, "we are good at that."

"Mmm hmm," Olivia agrees, her heart still pounding and her chest still heaving.

Gravity forces them to move sooner than they want, but he slides out of her as he softens and shrinks in the cooling air, causing him to start dripping from her.

"Here," Elliot says as he grabs the towel they discarded just a few minutes ago and gently runs it between her thighs.

"Oh," she says softly, shutting her eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yea, just uh, gonna be sore tomorrow," she explains.

He meets her eyes with a small frown, "Sorry."

"Don't be," she tells him with a wink, "it's a welcomed soreness."

He smiles at her before pressing a soft kiss to her lips, "Well, okay then."

Ten minutes later, they are cuddled in the bed, naked. She'd tried to put on his dress shirt, but he complained, "you're going to wrinkle it."

She looked at him incredulously, "So what?"

"I have to wear that out of here tomorrow. I didn't pack a change of clothes because I thought this was a dinner date, remember? Not a sex date."

Olivia laughed at him. "Fine, fine," she said as she laid his shirt back over the chair and joined him under the covers.

"This is better anyway," Elliot mumbles, sleep already starting to pull at him, "your back against my chest. My favorite…"

She just chuckles and snuggles deeper into his arms.

"Rollins. I have a delivery for Amanda Rollins," the voice of a delivery man calls through the squad room that following Monday.

"That's me," Amanda says, standing from her desk and looking around curiously for an explanation.

"Sign here," the guy instructs, showing Amanda a small electric pad with a stylus attached. She does, hastily scribbling her name and then looking up at him.

"Here," he says finally, passing her a small basket wrapped in cellophane, inside was an assortment of fruit: apples, oranges, pears.

Amanda just stands there, staring at the basket in her hands for a minute before she notices the small tag on the side. She sits back down at her desk before reading the typed message "Never stop giving advice. - Stabler"

It takes her several moments before it dawns on her. Grinning, she walks to the back of the squad room and knocks on Olivia's door.

"Come in," she hears her Captain call from the other side of the door, and Amanda steps into the office.

"So…?"

"So what?" Olivia asks without lifting her head.

"Took my advice, did you?" Amanda asks, the smirk on her face evident in her voice.

Lifting her head, and furrowing her brow at the look on her detective's face, Olivia asks, "What the hell do you mean?"

"Been to any hotels recently?"

Olivia's eyes widen for a second before she schools her features. "Nope, I had a nice weekend at home."

Amanda snorts, and crosses her hands over her chest, "Good to work with Stabler again, eh?"

"I don't know what you mean," Olivia lies a second time as a subtle blush starts to crawl up her neck and onto her cheeks and she drops her eyes back to the paperwork on her desk.

"Sure you don't Cap.," Amanda says incredulously as she turns to leave the office. "Sure you don't. I got a fruit basket from and E. Stabler for no damn reason," she mutters as she closes the door behind her.

Fin walks into the squad room fifteen minutes later, stopping by Amanda's desk to check out the basket.

"What's this? Carisi fuck up over the weekend? Flowers would have been better," he says, grabbing an apple.

"Nah, these are from Stabler."

"What?" Fin questions.

"Let's just say, you might want to call your old partner – Munch, right? - and cash in on your bet."