A/N: First and foremost , I would like to thank everyone for the kind reviews; after all, I write solely for the purpose of satisfying others... and my muse. Your comments are all a great inspiration, especially to someone who hasn't done the whole smut-thing before :) I hope you like this next chapter and please keep reviewing, because I love to hear what you guys have to say. Enjoy!

These Games We Play
Chapter 2-- Ignition

It had taken him no time at all to finish his report with a little... incentive. Even though he was having an incredibly hard time concentrating, he was able to bullshit his way through it in a matter of minutes, finishing no more than fifteen minutes after she had left. He could have done a better job and he probably should have, but the vision of his girlfriend ready and waiting for him was too strong and he found himself lucky to even get the goddamn thing done.

Girlfriend.

He would never get tired of that. Olivia Benson was his girlfriend. Even though nobody knew the truth, he did, and it was enough for him. He also knew that eventually they would go public with their relationship, but they had both agreed that now wasn't the best time. When that time did finally come, he would revel in it... assuming it wasn't the day when Cragen split them up. They were just too good of a team and he found that their partnership at work had only grown stronger since their partnership at home began.

The speed at which he had rushed to his car made everyone look up, wondering if somebody had died; if he didn't reach her soon, he knew he would be. Olivia Benson was destined to be the end of him, and he couldn't think of a finer person to die for, with, or because of.

"What's up with Stabler?" Lake asked as he watched the other detective rush away.

"He's just like any other child," a nonchalant Munch explained, "As soon as he can reach the cookie jar, he can't help but stick his hand in it."

Fin laughed at his old friend's comment, shaking his head. Lake seemed confused, sitting down next to Fin and leaning back, "I don't get it. Do you really think there's something going on between those two?"

"Do you really think there isn't?" Fin asked, shooting him a surprised look.

"Nah... I just... I don't know. I mean, I always thought they liked each other, but I never thought they'd actually act on their feelings or anything," Lake countered.

"You haven't been here long enough, Rookie," said Munch, "I've had money on those two since day one."

"I thought Elliot just got out of a divorce, like, a year ago?" Lake asked, confused.

Munch just sighed, "Like I said; as soon as he can reach the cookie jar, he can't help but stick his hand in it. That doesn't mean he doesn't spend all day eying it."

Lake laughed and Fin smiled; he may have joined the SVU a bit later, but when he had first met everyone, he couldn't help but think that Olivia and Elliot were a couple. They were partners, but even partners weren't that... close. As soon as he spoke to Munch, the older man explained everything and he quickly got in on the bet.

"You see, Elliot and Olivia have chemistry. They always have, they always will, and you can't deny that," Munch added.

"What would you know about chemistry? How many wives have you had?" Fin asked.

"Counting you?"

"I'm gonna smack you in a minute."

Their banter was disturbed when the Captain approached them, looking between the three men with a questioning glance, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Cap," Fin answer quickly.

"Just talking about Munch's grim love life ," Lake said.

"Grim? Don't you mean 'non-existent?'" Cragen smiled, before heading back in his office.

The three were quiet until they were sure he was out of listening range. Then, Munch shook his head and sighed.

"Poor dad. He has no idea his baby girl is messing around with the gardener."

She had just gotten out of the shower when she saw him parking his car from her window. She was surprised at how quickly he had gotten here. Surprised, but pleased. It hadn't even been an hour; he must have hightailed it out of there shortly after her. She thought she'd have more time to herself, to prepare, but when she heard him begging to come up in the form of that distinctive buzz, she permitted him entry.

"I think I've just opened Pandora's box."

She'd have to take a note of it; never proposition Elliot Stabler with sex. It may be the last thing you do.

When he reached her door, he clenched his fists at his side, afraid he might punch the door down in his rush to get to her.

"Liv," he called, "Open up."

When the door swung open and he saw her standing there, he couldn't get his hands on her fast enough; she had a white, cotton towel wrapped around her, tucked safely under her arms (for now) and ending at her mid-thigh, showing off her endlessly-long legs. Her wet, wavy locks dangled loosely at her shoulders, causing droplets of water to gather on her golden skin and cascade down her shoulders and chest, disappearing beneath the towel.

"Liv…," he groaned, sizing her up.

She gave him a smirk, taking a few steps back to permit him entry and tease him at the very same time. "Like what you see?"

The door slammed shut behind him, startling her, and the lock clicked loudly not long after, "I'd like it even better if that towel disappeared."

She licked her lips, watching as with three large strides, he closed the distance between them. His hands were in her damp locks and his mouth was on hers faster than she realized it, his tongue invading and conquering. She tilted her head to give him better access and he immediately took advantage, claiming her mouth as his own and leaving no part untouched.

A guttural moan escaped her throat but didn't make it far, with him swallowing and making it his own. That's what this was all about;

Possession.

Ownership.

Dominance.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she broke away for air, feeling dizzy, "El…,"

She felt his hand tantalizingly reach down her throat and grab her towel, immediately gripping his wrists to stop him, "Not yet."

He groaned as he bit the piece of flesh which connected her neck and shoulder, sure to leave a mark and eliciting a moan in response.

"Why the hell not? You said--"

"I said in an hour," she replied breathlessly as his mouth worked wonders on her body, "It hasn't been an hour yet."

His hand snaked to the back of her head, burrowing into her hair and grabbing her wet curls, forcing her head back as she winced in both pain and pleasure. His lips found her neck, trailing kisses up and down it, "You think I care?"

"El…," she moaned again, feeling a sudden chill come over her body as her towel hit the floor.

"You torture me back at the precinct, then expect me to play fair?" he asked, backing her up until she hit the wall, leaving her trapped. With both of his hands on either side of her head, she had nowhere to run. "I'm just finishing what you started."

"Baby," she moaned as he roughly grabbed her breast and explored the mound intently, running his thumb over her sensitive nipple, "I was going to, but Munch came and--"

He grasped her waist tightly, hoisting her up against the wall as she wrapped her legs around his waist for leverage. She could feel his bulging erection against her center and moaned loudly, wetness dripping from her core.

"See?" he asked with a smirk, reaching down and running his index and middle fingers through her slit. He pinched the little bundle of nerves lightly, just enough to send a shockwave through her body, "It's not like you don't want it, so stop fighting me, Liv."

She bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan, and knew he was right. So much for being in control, but she assumed it wasn't a bad thing having Elliot dominate her; she trusted him with her life and she knew he'd make it worth her while.

"God, you're so wet," he moaned as he removed his drenched fingers from her warmth and held them in front of her face, "Is this for me, Liv?"

"Jesus, El, you know it is," she sighed, clenching her eyes shut tightly and trying to block his torture out. She wouldn't last much longer if he carried on like this; she knew she said he could have his way with her, but he was just being sadistic now.

Knowing what she was doing and not letting her get away with it, he slipped his two fingers into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. He felt her suck on them, swirling her tongue along the pads of his digits before licking the length of them. He leaned in, nipping her earlobe, "So wet… so warm… just for me."

"God, Elliot!" she exploded as he withdrew his fingers from her mouth, "Just--"

He thrust upwards, pressing his erection into her core as he swirled his hips adding extra friction, separated by the thin fabric of his pants, "What was that you were saying?"

"Just fuck me already!"

Licking the side of her face as his fingers danced around her folds, he began to laugh and she grew flustered with his arrogance, "If you weren't so snug between my legs, I'd kick your ass. You do know that?"

"Yep," he nodded, reaching down and placing a chaste kiss on her mouth, "But as long as I'm between your legs…"

"You're such a bastard," she moaned loudly as he plunged his fingers deep inside her.

He didn't think it was possible for him to be any harder, but his cock was throbbing so badly now, he thought he was going to explode before he even got inside of her. When he heard her insult him, he couldn't help but laugh. It was so typically Olivia to call him a bastard even when his fingers were thrusting deep into her warmth. It made him love her even more.

"Maybe," he said, as he felt her clench around his fingers and curled them inside of her in response, "But you'll still scream my name, all the same."

"That's what…," she paused when he withdrew his fingers before slamming them back in, "You think!"

"Care to make a bet?" he asked, stopping his gestures while his fingers still rested so deep inside of her.

"El… please…"

"I bet that I can get you to scream my name by the end of the night."

"And I bet that you won't."

Olivia Benson had a will stronger than any physical matter. She never gave up, never turned down a challenge and because of this, never lost. Some called it overconfidence, but there was nothing "overconfident" about it; it was the truth. Others called it foolishness or credited it as bravery, and maybe that was true, as well. A little bit of both. But all she knew was that she had never broke before and wasn't about to spoil her streak.

He pulled his fingers out of her abruptly, causing her to groan at the loss of contact. She rested her forehead against his shoulder to catch her breath after he had stolen it from her, then so rudely denied her. She tried to gather her thoughts and compose herself, only he quickly scooped her up in his arms, carrying her to her bedroom.

"You're on."