A/N: I should be doing my essay, but what the hell? Little drabble.
Disclaimer: I don't own the SVU characters.
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Olivia is such a fool. A damn wretched fool! She insists on shoving her thigh between the blonde's legs, even though she doesn't love her. She makes the blonde writhe and moan anywhere; whether it's on her office desk, or a public bathroom and even in a cab, but never in Alex's bedroom. Bedrooms are for well-respected lovers that appreciate not only the physical, but the kindred spirit of a soul. Alex doesn't appreciate Olivia. All she wants are her fingers, tongue, and mouth- and for awhile Olivia accepts that. Commitment was never a factor of the detective's. Until she met Alex. Until she got the privilege to explore that golden, silken body.
Now she begs for more. Begs for her heart while Alex begs for more friction. Begs to know her hopes and dreams while Alex growls out the detective's name. What a shame.
She stands there, amidst in a small crowd as she thrusts one last stroke that makes the detective forget her self-loathe and shame. She hears that roar, that long strangled tone that keeps her coming back when Alex calls her. That sound, that lascivious look on her gorgeous face, keeps the detective leaving the dingy club feeling like a used whore. Leaves the detective feeling just as dirty as the bathroom she fucks the A.D.A in. But for those thirty seconds or so she feels nothing but love and lust and confusion for the blonde. She feels nothing but confidence and bliss to watch the blonde tip over the edge with such intensity.
She feels nothing but love, while Alex feels nothing at all…
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