A/N: Had to add that smut tag ;)

She settles into the seat next to him and he watches her hands slide against the leather. Elliot's driving his Bugatti tonight, his bodyguard following behind in the SUV. Now he's very glad he made these arrangements so they could be alone.

He stares at her thighs, the material of her skirt exposing enticing skin. It's only been a week and a half since he'd laid eyes on her, three days since they'd first spoken. And yet he finds himself completely fixated on her. Was it simply that she'd said no, that she hadn't been an easy conquest? He thinks that's maybe part of it.

She is undeniably beautiful. The kind of beauty that can stop you in your tracks. But he's sure it's more than either of these. There's a depth to her that he wants to explore. A way that she looks at him that makes him pause. And he thinks that, more than anything, is why he finds her constantly on his mind, despite having just met her.

"This car is so sexy." Her hands are still caressing the leather and he thinks about how she might touch him, what it would feel like.

He smiles, his voice husky, "You're sexy." He reaches over to her with his left hand, slides his fingers between her legs, resting against her inner thigh just above her knee. "We're going to go have a nice dinner. But there's something I need to do first."

Olivia looks back at him, something tantalizing in her gaze, the twitch of her lips. "I can wait."

"Well this involves you." His fingers slide a little higher, and then he draws circles into her skin. He can feel the heat of her radiating against his hand.

"Oh?" she's breathy, lush. Her hands have stilled on the seat and she's looking at him wide-eyed, almost daring him to go on.

"Yeah," his eyes have dropped to her lips and he leans in, hovers. He pauses, a breath away, glances up into her eyes. He watches them close and then she inches forward and her lips brush his.

He slides his right hand behind her head before she can pull away from him and his mouth closes over hers firmly. She sighs against him and it's all the encouragement he needs, his tongue slipping into her mouth, his hand grasping on her thigh.

And then he's surprised when her tongue boldly swipes against his, moves past his lips and into his mouth. A sweet combination of submission and aggression that seems to perfectly align with every interaction he's had with Olivia. There's something about the juxtaposition that is so enticing and he groans into her mouth before he pulls back.

They're staring at each other, her breath ghosting across his face and he allows his fingers to drift higher. When his knuckle bumps against her lace covered core she gasps. He presses into her there, rubs and she closes her eyes.

His fingers skate over the material, circling her clit, pressing at her opening. She squirms under his touch, one hand coming to his forearm and gripping onto him.

"Look at me," he whispers. And as her eyes open, lock onto his, he slides his fingers under the lace and touches her flesh. Her mouth drops open and she moans.

His fingers gather the wetness he finds, circling it up to her clit, rubbing and grinding against her as she pushes back into his touch.

"Elliot," she whispers and he smiles at the sound of his name in the throes of her passion.

He presses a finger to her entrance and it slides into her arousal slicked wetness. She moans, her head dropping back against the headrest, her hips bucking up against his hand.

His thumb pushes up into her clit as he adds a second finger inside her, curling around, pressing into the right spot so that she repeats his name, louder, more desperate.

And he can feel her fluttering around his digits, so he thrusts his fingers, flicks his thumb against her clit, repeats the motion, harder, faster and then her nails are digging into his Armani blazer and she comes with a loud moan, her wetness coating his fingers. He waits until she's settled before he withdraws his hand. Waits until her eyes open before he drags his wet digits against her lips and then leans in and kisses her, his tongue swiping her arousal, moving into her mouth.

He pulls back, "I guess I skipped to dessert," he teases and she laughs softly.

"So," he starts, after the wine has been poured, "Who is Olivia Benson?"

Her eyes give him that scrutinizing look that is quickly becoming familiar. "Don't you already know?"

"Well, I can get you started," he admits without shame. "Grew up in Hell's Kitchen. Pretty good in school."

"I was better than 'pretty good'," she smirks as she takes a sip of wine.

"But no college?"

She shrugs. "Couldn't afford it. And I had this bum of a boyfriend in high school who decided that Thailand was a pretty rocking party scene so I followed him there."

Elliot lifts his eyebrows, "And was it?"

She laughs, "He lost all our money about a week after we got there and I spent the next two years trying to earn enough to go home. Or anywhere else."

"What was after Thailand?" He leans forward, surprised by this story.

"A little time in Australia. Then over to Germany. And then I got homesick. I was gone about five years."

He looks at her, impressed, taken aback.

"I don't seem like the type?"

He chuckles, "I don't meet a lot of world travellers. And I definitely wouldn't have pegged you for a hippie backpacker."

She smiles, a bit proudly. "I wasn't backpacking. I never had the trust fund for it." She pushes back with a smile. "I waited tables and saw the sights and partied. It was nice for a while."

"And what happened to the bum boyfriend?"

"Oh, I ditched him when he lost our money," she laughs. "Realized I could take care of myself." She lifts her chin, the humor leaving her face.

"I am very sure you can." He's beginning to realize that Olivia Benson is more than just a challenge. More than a beautiful woman. More even than the depths that he was already intrigued by. He knows she is someone he can fall into and happily drown within and while he should walk away before it's too late, he knows damn well he won't.

"Tell me about your family." Olivia is tucked into a corner of the couch in his suite, her shoes kicked off, her long legs curled next to her. The suite serves as his home and office in the city and is usually the place he takes his dates. But he's been seeing Olivia for a month and it's the first time he's brought her here.

He's been longing to have an uninterrupted evening with her. And yet, he's held off all this time. He hadn't even suggested it until she'd reached over in their booth at dinner and pulled his hand against her bare thigh. It had been the first time he'd done more than kiss her since the tryst in his car. Instead opting for long dinners and shared stories, kisses in the back of the SUV that grew more heated with each date. For the first time in a long time, he had wanted to cherish her, make this far more than a quick fuck.

He can't even explain any of this to himself. He feels enchanted by her, nervous like he's 15 again with a crush on the girl down the street. The more time he spends with her, the more he wants her. Not just her body with it's enticing curves. Not just her seductive eyes or her full lips or the way she looks at him. But the way she surprises him constantly, the way she doesn't back down, how fearless she is.

He's already taken off his tie and opened the neck of his shirt. He removes his jacket, tossing it over the arm of a chair before he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls his sleeves up. He sits next to her, pulls her legs across his lap and slides his palm along her smooth skin. He can smell lavender, a scent he is starting to associate with her. "What do you want to know?"

"How many kids?" She sips on her bourbon, looking over the rim of the glass at him.

"Four. Maureen and Kathleen are in high school. Dickie and Liz are 10."

"And your wife?"

"She's a good mother."

"That's it?" She doesn't seem uncomfortable talking about his marriage. Just direct and curious.

"When she realized I wasn't the man she thought I was, we became very distant."

"And who did she think you were?"

"Let's just say that she's not comfortable with the things she hears. But you seem to be?"

She shrugs, "I've heard plenty of rumors. But I guess I'm more interested in what you're like when we're here like this. How you treat me."

"Those rumors don't bother you? You don't want to ask me about them?" He watches her carefully. He knows the gossip - that he's a drug dealer, a killer, worse even. He's used to it, has found over time that it will drive most decent people away. Normally he doesn't care. And even if Olivia expressed concern he's certainly not going to upend his life for her. But he needs to know she can handle it. Because he already knows how hard and how fast he's fallen. It's probably too late to walk away from her. But he still needs to know.

"Do they bother you? Do you want me to ask you?" She returns softly.

He settles back against the couch. "When I was growing up, I felt really...powerless. We didn't have much. And my parents," he sighs heavily and he feels her hand come up to cradle the back of his neck. He closes his eyes and leans into her touch. "My parents had their problems. All I really wanted was control and money and to not have to rely on anyone."

He turns his head towards her and watches her nod.

"Most people don't get it. How hard it is to have no one to turn to. It makes you realize that your own survival and happiness is wholly dependent on you. You learn to take what you want without apology." She replies, her voice laced with melancholy.

He presses his hand into hers, sandwiching her palm against his neck. "Right and wrong don't matter much to me anymore. So no, the rumors don't bother me. I don't care much what people think or say. But it's better if you can be ok with the unknown of it. Better not to ask questions." He watches her nod and continues, "I'm not going to pretend I'm something I'm not. But I am proud of the place I've made in this world. What I can give my family."

She smiles at him softly then, "You wanna show off what you made?" She glances around before meeting his gaze. He grins back, placing her feet on the floor, standing and offering her a hand.

He kisses her softly, and still holding her hand, pulls her along behind him. He makes a loop, showing her the terrarium and his pet turtle, the view of the skyline, his broad bookshelf. Before he leads her to the bedroom, he stops at the desk and she circles it, hopping up onto the surface.

"This where the magic happens?" She asks with a sly smile and he rounds the desk, pulling the chair in front of her and sitting down.

Olivia leans forward, bracing her hands against his shoulders, and slips into his lap, straddling him, the edge of her dress riding up. He grins up at her, his hands grasping her hips as she settles.

"Certainly seems like magic," he replies, huskily. His hands land on her hips, slide up to hold her waist.

She laughs softly and then presses her lips to his and it ignites an urgency in him. He reaches up, fisting his hand into her hair and tilting her head so her mouth opens and he can sweep his tongue inside. She mewls against him as he wraps his other arm around her back, tugging her ever closer.

She gasps, pulling her mouth free and arching against him, her head falling back. He trails his mouth down the column of her neck, sucking at the juncture of her shoulder before he moves lower, across her clavicle.

His hand moves from her hair, following the trail of his mouth and reaching further until his palm covers her breast and he fondles her through her dress, feeling her nipple harden under his caress.

She pushes away until he finally releases the hold he has on her waist. And then she slides off of his lap, standing before him and pressing her hands on top of his knees. She pushes them open and then steps into the space she's created, sinking down to her knees in front of him. She undoes his belt, opens his pants, torturously slow, her lips pouting as she locks eyes with him. And then her hand is reaching into his pants and pulling out his cock. She breaks their eye contact as her gaze sweeps down and she sees him large and hard in her hand. And then he watches as she leans forward, parts her lips and slowly slides down the length of him. She doesn't stop until she's taken all of him and he groans loudly at the feel of her lips at the base of his cock, the tip pushing into her throat, the image of her before him. Her mouth seals around him and draws back and he can see the ring of dark lipstick she's left at the base of his cock and he groans again.

She repeats the movements, and he swears he's even further down her throat, and then she's bobbing over him, the hot, wet suction of her mouth making his eyes roll back. And just when he thinks he'll come, she stops. He opens his eyes and finds her standing before him. He watches her fingers slide to the end of her short dress and slowly drag the material up, revealing a scant piece of satin, her black g string. She turns and he sees the fullness of her ass.

"Fuck," he groans as she hooks her thumbs into the strings and slides her panties over her hips. She bends at her waist as she lets them fall all the way down, steps out of them. He stares at her pink flesh. Olivia presses her elbows into the table in front of her and looks back at him, a seductive smile gracing her lips.

"Touch me," she whispers and he lifts his hand, skims it over the petal soft skin, feeling the wetness on his fingers.

"Taste me," and he leans forward let's his tongue lap against her and listens to her moan, wantonly.

He doesn't wait for more instruction, standing, positioning himself at her entrance and thrusting into her.

"Ah!" She cries out loud, her voice high and breathy. The sound spurs him on. He sinks his fingers into her hips, pulls out and slams into her, harder. "Ugh," he watches her head fall forward onto her forearms. And then he's moving again, thrusting over and over, shaking the desk, hearing her gasp and moan with every slam of his hips into hers.

He reaches around her body and pulls her up to meet his chest, one arm circling her waist, the other reaching up to pull down her dress strap and fondle her bare breast. His mouth slides up her neck, stopping behind her ear and finding her pulse point. He tongues the sensitive skin as his fingers pluck at her hard nipple. She moans and he can feel her tighten around him.

"Jesus, Liv. The way you feel…," he growls hotly into her ear, feeling her shudder against him in response.

Her head falls back against his shoulder and he groans as he tips them slightly forward, the arm around her waist moving to gain leverage against the desk. He thrusts into her as his hand moves from her breast to between her legs, seeking the bundle of nerves that will make her moan louder. And when his fingertips make contact with her clit and he rubs she shouts his name and careens over the edge, taking him with her.

As Elliot holds her trembling body against his, his cock still buried inside her, he knows he will never walk away from her.