Undercover Days Chapter 4
Warning: This is an M rated chapter, you must be 18 years of age or older to continue. Language and sexual situations.
A/N: I love writing these two characters and writing them in sexual scenes is the best in my book, so I hope you all enjoy. Thanks for reading, comments are welcome.
She reaches out with one finger and strokes his cock and it tightens even further. Her smile has turned wicked.
"What are you thinking?" She asks him, but she already has some idea.
"About how good you're going to taste when I spread your thighs and dip my tongue inside you. About the first time I let myself think of how you would taste." He looks up at her, desire sparkles in her dark eyes as one eyebrow raises in question. "It was during the kidnapping of that boy, Adam; the one whose schizophrenic father thought he was his son Tate. We were looking for the boy in an abandoned building and you were wearing a tight purple shirt and these jeans that rode low on your hips with a wide leather belt. I remember thinking that I wanted to run my tongue there, along the strip of skin I could see." His fingers trace a line across her belly as she stands next to the bed and she watches his eyes grow dark with the memory. His hand drifts lower and his fingers graze through her dark damp curls. He takes a deep breath, drawing in the scent of her wanting him. A drop appears on the head of his penis and she spreads it around with her finger as he breathes in again and another one appears. "I wanted you so badly on that day I could hardly walk. I could almost taste your skin, smell the leather of that belt and feel your jeans against my chin. I thought about placing my hands on your ass and lifting you up to my face. You have an amazing ass by the way; it's given me hours of personal entertainment. I think there were days that I came to work just for that." Her cheeks flare with the thought of his eyes having been on her all these years. "I watched you tear the wood off the door of that building when I came back from getting the flashlight from the car and you could not have looked any sexier. The sky was so blue and your eyes were the warmest liquid brown, I thought I could dive into them and disappear. We could hear the boy hitting pipes in the building and we knew we had found him alive. The exhilaration, the adrenaline, the desire, it was overwhelming but I remember it as such a good day. I felt so good." His thick fingers slide between her lips, teasing her slick opening, letting some of the heat escape over his knuckles before moving slowly inside her. He hears her slight gasp. "Later, when I was alone, I masturbated until my dick ached with that image of you in my head. Sometimes I still do." She drops her hand down and pulls up a long stroke around his swollen erection and when she releases it, it slaps against his belly and the sound brings a small smile from her.
Her voice is only a whisper that he has to concentrate on to hear. "Elliot, that was over four years ago."
"I know." She's touched by the honesty in his confession and wraps the story up like a gift inside her to open again later when she's alone. He slips his hand from between her legs and with an ease that startles her he takes her by the hips and lift her over him and onto the bed so quickly she doesn't have time to fully panic. She watches the muscles in his arms and across his chest bulge with definition as he moves her and her fingers curl with the urge to touch him. As soon as she is settled against the pillow his mouth is on her neck, his lips and tongue working their way down to her shoulder. She moans softly and slides her hands over his arms and shoulders loving the way his soft flesh suddenly turns solid as his muscles tense. He moves his body over her and nestles himself between her legs, leaving feather light kisses across her chest as he goes. Her hand caresses the back of his head and the pads of her fingers dance across his neck. Still held by years of deprivation she hesitates before kissing him. She sucks gently on his bottom lip before slanting her mouth across his and giving him her tongue. He nudges her tongue with his, and soon he's kissing her, moving deeper with so much passion she moans into him. She feels the line of desire tighten from between her legs to her lips until her hips are softly rocking to the rhythm of his tongue.
He breaks the kiss and moves down her neck to her breast where his mouth is hot on her nipple, his lips sucking in a slow firm pull as his tongue flicks rapidly over the tip. His fingers graze over the delicate flesh of her other breast and the multiple sensations leave her moaning and arching into him. He nips at the tender bud and her hips jerk hard against him, he smiles and nips again then jumps when he feels the sharp sting on his ass as she strikes him. His eyes catch hers and she hisses in a short breath at the intense desire she sees reflected there. He growls and grinds his hard length against her and her hand slides over his ass, soothing the warm handprint she's left there. He dips his head back to her breast and she looks at the slick swollen nipple of the one he left behind and smiles before closing her eyes. She's moaning and clutching his shoulders as he tortures her other nipple causing shocks of pleasure to run from her breast to her clit. She slides her arm between them, trying to reach between her legs so she can release the screaming need building inside her but he catches her wrist and laughs softly. He has sucked her nipple to a bright red, so swollen and sensitive that when he flicks the tip with his tongue she cries out and pushes up against him. He releases her wrist and puts his hands on the bed, lifting himself above her he looms for a moment, looking at her. His gaze moves down her body, marked by his attention and he licks his lips. He looks so powerful to her, so primitive, on the brink of dangerous. He moves down as he lowers himself, licking a path around her navel, sucking softly on the line of flesh he's waited so long to taste. Her thighs are trembling as he strokes them, the anticipation is gathering into a sob in her chest. She can feel the heat of her own juice trickle between her folds. She has never allowed a man to do this to her while she was sober. As he drags her thighs apart she feels so exposed, so vulnerable, that she has to close her eyes. He curls his hands under her thighs and holds her hips and she tips herself toward him.
His tongue dips in her folds, lapping the taste of her into his mouth, his lips push between hers like a kiss before he sinks into her. He explores her and circles her opening with his tongue, then slides it flat up her center and over the throbbing swell of her clit. Something like a sob bursts from her and rolls into a moaning sound. As he flicks his tongue hard against her she begins to cry out to god. She is moving now, arching and pushing against him, he's holding onto her tightly as he dips his tongue against her and pumps rapidly, humming and sliding up to suck on her clit, when he pulls it between his teeth she shatters. She slams hard up against him and he fights to hold onto her, her thighs and hips pushing into him, dropping into the mattress and jerking back up. She's riding a hard wave of sensation, her clit almost stinging from the sharp pleasure as he continues to suck and lick her seizing pussy. She grabs his shoulders and pulls him up, clenching her thighs in a lock around him.
"Wait…oh god…just wait…a second…oohhh god…." She is gasping for air, her body flexing and twitching and so he gently lays his head down, his cheek against her lower belly, her pubic hair dusting his jaw. He pulls his arms out and over the top of her so he can hug her hips and thighs against him and this is how he lays, holding her.
Her eyes are still closed and she can feel the hot tears squeezing from the corners and running down into her hairline, into her ears. She's not even religious and she's sure it has to be a sin to feel this way, to want and need this much. To want him. To need him. To feel. This much. Remember to breathe. Her hands are still on his shoulders and she relaxes her grip. She doesn't have to look to know there are going to be marks on him tomorrow, maybe tonight. She tightens her legs to try to steady her jumping muscles and she feels him smile against her belly. His hand begins slowly stroking down her thigh, a steady gentle touch. Her heart is still hammering but her breathing is beginning to slow so she opens her eyes, eases her hand up and wipes away the trace of tears. It's oddly comforting to have him wrapped around her hips and she places her hand on the back of his head, he reaches up and takes it in his own.
He becomes so still, his breath warm on the curve of her hip, that she wonders if he has fallen asleep. After a few moments she tugs on his hand and he turns his head and looks up her body, between her breasts, to see her smiling.
"Come here." He turns his head and places a kiss just beneath her navel before pulling himself up and next to her. "You were so still I thought you might have fallen asleep."
"Well, you were praying so I thought I'd give you a minute." He's laughing when she smacks his arm. "OUCH! I had no idea you were so prone to spontaneous slapping while in bed."
She blushes just slightly, "how is your ass, anyway?" She reaches over his hip and lightly strokes his cheek and he clenches it to rock hard beneath her touch.
"It's fine. I like your hand print there so much I may have it tattooed on." He tries to look serious but can't contain his grin.
"You don't need a tattoo; I'll put another one there for you anytime." The game shifts in that second and his look changes, the playful sparkle in his eyes turns to a smoky hue instead and his dick rises to attention.
"Remember that you said anytime because I'm going to hold you to it." This time he manages to hold his serious expression.
"You don't scare me." She's looking at him with her steady gaze but its all fire and heat without any anger. She's bluffing because he does scare her; he terrifies the hell out of her. He was supposed to stay her exception, the one man she could love completely because he would never be available, the one man she could let have it all becausehe was married, the one man that she could really let see her because he was her partner. What the fuck happened? The forbidden fruit was peeled and served up to her on a platter. Okay, she may have peeled it herself, but still, the fact remains that Elliot is here, naked in her bed. Naked in her bed and touching her. She thinks if she sleeps she'll wake up and it will all have been a dream.
"I'm not trying to scare you, but I know I am." His hand cups her jaw, his thumb stroking warm along her cheek. He wonders if she knows how scared she looks, he can see it in her eyes, even if no one else ever can. He thinks about the thousands of times he has wanted her over the years.
His hand lifts hers and he kisses each fingertip, recalling how they dance over the keys of her computer, how they grip the handle of her gun, how they push back her hair in frustration and how they wrap around her cup of coffee when she's cold. He has spent a good deal of his time watching her hands move through a thousand different tasks and thought equally as many times about how they would feel on him.
"Don't be afraid Liv." He whispers the words against her palm, sending them through her skin and into her body, hoping they'll bypass her thoughts and become part of her truth. He presses his lips against her palm, his tongue running a small circular pattern on her skin, moving down to the delicate patch on the inside of her wrist.
"I told you, I'm not afraid of you." Her voice is clear and sure and he knows what she's trying to tell him. She has never been afraid of him, not when he was trembling with rage and lashing out blindly at the world and not when he puffed up his chest and balled his fists and became a muscled wall of intimidating flesh. She was the one person that has never been afraid of him. He glances with guilt at his knuckles and thinks of the wet clothes spattered with blood lying in his tub.
"No, but you're certainly afraid of us." He feels her stiffen next to him, her hand tightening in his grasp. "You said we never talk about us so I thought maybe it's time we do." He tries to smile, to make it light between them but eight years of history is heavy and the weight is still pressing.
He brushes his lips across her knuckles and his warm breath blows down the back of her hand.
"Now?" He slips his mouth over her index finger, his tongue holding it gently against the roof of his mouth. "After all these years you want to talk about us now?" Her voice has drops as he sucks softly on her finger, she feels a corresponding tug deep between her legs and blinks slowly.
He releases her finger, "I want to talk about you being afraid. I know you Liv, if you're afraid as soon as the light of day dawns on us you'll hit the ground running. You'll have this torn apart before your first cup of coffee." He watches the hurt flicker across her features followed closely by acceptance because she knows what he said is true. "I can't let you walk away, not now, not after this. You can't walk away again. Do you understand? Never again."
There is an edge to him now and even in the dim light she thinks she can see the glimmer on the sharp blade of those words. If she lets go of them, they'll slice right through her. Does she understand? Fuck yes she understands. No more leaving. The problem is that she doesn't know how to do anything else. She closes her eyes, squeezing them shut wondering what it feels like to stay.
"Liv." She opens her eyes and kisses him, hoping to trap his voice within her, hoping to become the woman he thinks she is when he says her name like that. She wants him to say it again so she can swallow the sound of it, absorb it, become it. Her tongue sweeps through his mouth, soaking up his words and seeking his desire. Her hand moves around his neck, cupping the back of his head and holding him against her while she slides her thigh up between his legs. His dick hardens against her and she pushes his shoulders back until he is lying flat on his back. She breaks from the kiss and straddles him, sitting up tall and pinning his cock against his belly with the thickness of it pressing between her lips. She looks down and touches the smooth head of him sticking out and his hips jerk slightly beneath her.
"Liv, no more leaving. I want to hear you say it." His words seem to float up to her and out into the room. He's mesmerized by the look of her, the smooth expanse of her skin so flawless it looks liquid when she moves. The round weight of her breasts sway slightly as she leans forward and his hands cup them as his mouth reaches for the line of her neck. As he tugs rhythmically on her nipples he feels his dick growing wetter from her juices and his balls ache with the need to be inside her. He releases her breasts and his hands move around to her ass where he spreads his fingers wide and palms each of her cheeks. She leans forward onto his chest and lifts her hips, pushing up into his grasp. She is nibbling on his ear lobe as her hand reaches down and grasps his dick. He is slippery with her juice and she pumps her hand up and down him as she holds him up and rubs the head of him into her opening. His hands squeeze her ass, his fingers sinking into her flesh.
He feels her voice vibrate against his ear as she whispers, "no more leaving El." Before he can think she pushes herself down over his thick shaft, letting her weight drive him into her depths as his hands rub her against his hips. He cries out and feels her teeth sink into his shoulder as she moans out an acceptance of him. She pauses, "I promise." She tightens her abdominal muscles and pulls her thighs as she clenches her muscles and lifts back up the length of him and then sinks rapidly back down. She repeats the action as he gasps deeply. Jesus Christ she's fucking me. He looses his ability to think coherently as she rises and drops harder this time, and again, and again, and again. His hands hold her against him as he grinds into her, pushing against her center as her tight walls constrict around him. She's hot, and so wet that he feels the moisture trickle around his balls. He isn't going to last long now. As if hearing his thoughts she begins to pump her hips above him. He looks over her shoulder as the muscles in her long back flex with the rise and fall of her ass. Her breathing comes in short pants now and she is moaning as she moves. She pulls her knees in a little closer and starts slamming against him, the sound of them wet and slapping making his balls tighten in anticipation. His head pushes back into the pillow, he slides his hand around to the front of her and makes a fist, pushing it between them until his knuckle fits between the top of her lips and her clit strikes against it. She cries out to him, his name ripping from her lungs while she rocks against his hand, and drops hard over his dick. He moves his other hand to the center of her ass, his finger tips rimming her anus as he presses her down and his orgasm begins to erupt. Her body surges as hers rips through her, hammering her against his pelvic so she can feel bones pressing back. She grinds her clit over his slippery fist, riding him hard through the waves convulsing around his cock. She keeps rocking, her whole body milking him with her movements, pulling at his cock in strong rhythmic strokes that break into tremors as they move down her limbs until after a few moments she begins to slow. She gradually comes to a stop and rests her full weight on him, breathing hard, her pussy throbbing around him, her entire pelvic bone sore and both of them soaking wet.
She clenches so she can squeeze him inside her and smiles. She loves how he fills her, like her body is two sizes too small. Even now when he's soft she likes the sensation of having him inside her. She promised him she wouldn't leave him anymore, purposely waiting for that moment when she would promise him anything so she could scrape the words from inside her without resistance. Despite all that, saying them would be the easy part, actually living them would be the challenge.
He's stroking a hand through her hair, his breathing finally beginning to sound somewhat regular.
"Liv…" Her fingers fly to his lips and press against them.
"No Elliot, no more serious talk right now. I don't have the energy to distract you at the moment. I'm starving and we're both in need of a shower, so we have to get up for a while, after that we can talk. Just not now." She's already thinking that after food and a shower she doubts they'll be talking and eventually they will have to sleep but for now, one thing at a time.
"Okay, what do you want to get to eat?"
"Are you kidding? I've been gone; I want a New York Pizza, extra large with onions, green pepper, tomato and mushroom. Oregon pizza sucks, those people have no idea how to make a decent pizza or a good sauce. It was torture. Not to mention the towns there all roll up the sidewalks by eleven at night so if you want something to eat after that you're just shit out of luck. I had to come back; I eat half my meals in the middle of the night so I was starving out there." He's grinning from ear to ear.
"You can take the girl out of Manhattan but you can't take the Manhattan out of the girl." She's laughing now and climbing from the bed.
"I'll call Sal's and order but as much as I hate to have you do it, you better pull some pants on because one of us is going to have to answer the door when it comes." Standing now she pulls her NYPD t-shirt back over her head and bends to kiss him on the fore head. "Come on." He's comforted by the sight of her in the NY shirt, hell he's comforted by the sight of her period, so without pause he pulls on his jeans and trails after her.
As he follows her down the hall a tingling sensation blooms in his chest and he thinks about how it feels to know that now, he would follow her anywhere.