Undercover Days Chapter 5
Disclaimer: Not mine but I so enjoy my time with them.
Warning: Rated M, sexually explicit adult material. Tasteful, but still adult.
A/R: Wow, I have had a rough few weeks and this chapter really took a lot out of me, I'm not even entirely sure why…I'll save self analysis for another day. I really hope you all enjoy it, thanks so much for reading. I'm very grateful to have interested readers out there so this is dedicated to the dedicated…read on.
Olivia walks to the living room and picks up the phone, cursing she sets it back down. Her home phone is still not working so she heads back to the bedroom to search for the cell phone. Elliot is sitting on the side of her bed, naked and staring at nothing in particular, holding the jeans he came back to put on. The sight surprises her even though she just left him there, it's still a shock to walk into her room and actually see him sitting on her bed. She walks over and pulls back the bed covers, looking around at the floor.
"Did you lose something?" He has a smirk on his face because a dozen dirty answers to that question run through his head even as he asks her.
"Yes as a matter of fact, I'm looking for my cell phone." While she's intently moving the blankets around he hands it to her and she stops suddenly wondering how he ended up with it. At seeing her questioning expression he automatically answers her unspoken words.
"I found it in the bed down by my feet. Care to explain or should I just assume you put it on vibrate and kept calling yourself." He's chuckling and she's blushing but beyond the sexual response there is another reaction that he can't quite understand. Something in her expression is off. She reaches to her nightstand, right next to where he's sitting and jerks open the top drawer, bumping him on the side of his knee.
"I don't need to put my phone on vibrate, I have that covered." She turns and walks away, leaving him staring into a drawer that has various vibrators in different shapes and sizes, piled inside. His dick stirs but does not fully wake although there's a deep tug within his balls. He inventories them with his eyes, knowing he will need their exact size and shape for the fantasies he will later create. He can hear her on the phone in the other room and considers joining her but as he sits there he imagines her sliding the fat bright pink one into her body. He wants to touch it, to know the texture of it in his hand but it feels oddly personal to him. Despite all their activity and the dull ache, his dick hardens, lifts its head and stiffens as the fantasy intensifies and she begins to thrust the vibrator deeply inside her, lifting her hips from the bed with each penetration. He is unaware of the small moan that comes from him and equally unaware that she has walked back into the room. Smiling and shaking her head she walks over and shuts the drawer and his head snaps up, having caught her in his peripheral vision much too late not to be busted fantasizing.
"Snap out of it, certainly you've seen one before?" He doesn't miss a beat.
"Not one that I know has been inside of you." His eyes turn up to her and she can see the flicker of desire dancing within the blue depths. "Why so many?"
"Different moods I guess. Come on, the pizza will be here before we know it." She is trying to redirect him, to lure him into the kitchen before he lures her back to bed. She only opened the drawer to divert his attention from the phone because she didn't want him to follow that line of questioning, she didn't want to talk about his messages, not now. She turns and walks to the door, pausing to make sure he's getting up to follow, her eyes dropping to his cock, stiff and heavy. She arches her one brow and looks at him.
"Hey, you're the one that opened the drawer. By the way, which one's your favorite?" She laughs as she strolls to the kitchen, amazed by his body's response and a little frightened by the tug she feels between her legs when she looks at it. He steps into his jeans and continues after her.
"I'm not telling you." She opens the fridge, bending in search of something to drink and he watches her t-shirt lift just enough to expose the lower curve of her ass where it turns into the delicate flesh at the very top of her leg. He wants to run his fingertips along this line of her and is about to reach when she moves. His jeans are not fastened and they feel too tight on him, he scolds himself for not wearing sweats. She pulls two waters off the shelf, closing the door, handing him one and opening her own. When she looks up, he's staring at her. "What?" She takes a long draw from the water bottle and he watches her neck work as she swallows and wonders if he can get any harder.
"Why? Why won't you tell me which is your favorite?" He actually looks like he's pouting and she bursts out laughing.
"Because you don't need to know." She reaches up into the cupboard to grab plates and there's her ass again, just a little more of it this time. She tilts slightly forward as she stretches just a bit to reach the shelf and he can see her dark curls and the beginning of her lips. Forget the touching, he wants to fuck her now. Hard. From behind, just like she is, up against the counter. He goes back to the conversation although it isn't safer ground.
"I do need to know, so when I'm at home masturbating I know which one to picture in your hand." Damn him. She feels her arousal ooze moisture in her tender pussy and she squeezes her thighs. She takes another long drink of her water but despite how cold it is the heat within her skin continues to smolder.
"When you leave here you won't have the energy to masturbate." She can't look at him when she talks like this because although the rhythm of the banter is the same the content is so different than it used to be. Elliot just casually mentioned that he would be masturbating to images of her with her vibrator. Elliot. She is discussing masturbation with Elliot and they are half dressed and waiting for a pizza so they can eat and go have more sex. More sex with Elliot. A throb pulses between her legs at the thought. Jesus Christ. She turns from him and busies herself getting napkins and forks. She's just about done with her water so she pulls two beers from the fridge and sets them on the counter, sliding one over and opening hers.
She's about to take a nice long drink when she feels him behind her, close behind her. His fingers barely graze her skin as he sweeps her hair aside, off her neck. His lips dance on her skin, heating a path to her shoulder as her fingers grip the counter for support. He pulls his teeth across a spot on the side of her neck and her shoulder rises against the chill it brings as she moans softly. His other hand is at the hem of her shirt, she feels it lift as his hand moves underneath. He cups the cheek of her ass and it tightens under his touch. He runs the pads of his fingers across that spot at the top of her leg, the soft crease that curves and disappears in her center. He brushes the short soft curls and sighs softly as he feels her lift and push back toward his hand.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy it is when your body reaches for me like that?" His voice is a hot burst against her neck and she closes her eyes as she tilts her hips a little more and pushes back until she feels just the tip of his finger slide in the back of her slit. It's the only answer she has for him because her words are failing completely, washed away in the wave of arousal, and carried off in her own juices. He slides his hand back and smoothes it up and over the round curve of her to the dip at the base of her back. Both of his hands have slipped beneath her shirt now and he's massaging and squeezing her cheeks in his hands, down to the flesh at the top of her thighs and back up to the first hint of a curve at her lower back. The cool air caressing her backside around his searing touch runs a chill up her spine and she arches into it. He slides his hands around her hips to her belly and she backs into the space, rubbing her ass against his abdomen and over his erection. The deep moan that vibrates from his chest causes her womb to contract and she grinds back into him. Her hand covers his, her long fingers fitting between his thick ones as she pulls them down between her thighs. Together their fingers dip into her hot folds, the moisture coating them, flooding the space around them. She feels his other hand release her hip and the sound of the zipper he only had half way done anyhow. She rocks back in anticipation and whimpers with need as she feels the head of him brush the back of her thighs just as the door buzzer rips through the room.
"Fuck!" His shock and frustration bounce off of the walls and as if on cue her stomach growls as their hands pull away. She squeezes her eyes shut and then as he stumbles back away from her she jumps to the second buzz and bursts out laughing. All that emotion has to go somewhere and she takes several strides to the intercom with her arm across her stomach in hunger and hysterics. She hits the button to unlock the building doors and watches him try to zip around his unforgiving cock with a glint of pre-come glistening on the tip. She puts her hand on his wrist stopping his actions.
"Stop, you're going to hurt yourself. I'll grab my robe and get the door." Her laughter and smile are so engaging he's immediately caught up in them and standing there with his dick waving in the wind, he's immobilized by her beauty. As she jogs down the hall with her laughter trailing behind, her shirt flaps and he catches a glimpse of what he missed. The sight makes his dick ache but the realization that in eight years he has rarely heard that infectious laughter makes his chest ache even more. She breezes back by him, tossing a grey pair of shorts in his direction as the knock sounds on the door, his expression flickers around several emotions and she throws him a questioning look as she reaches for the door.
"Unless you want to be a flasher you might want to duck into the other room for a minute. There's a pair of shorts that I think would be more comfortable if you want to where them." She's grinning again now and pointedly glancing down at his cock which has shifted forward and seems to be aimed directly at her. His smile finally settles as he looks down and thinks that his dick has become a sexual divining rod seeking the sexually divine and he knows there is no one more sexually divine than Olivia. An old bar phrase always comes back to him when he thinks of her this way; she could give a dead man a hard on. The knock on the door is louder this time and he hurries down the hall as she turns to answer it.
He's standing in her bedroom, pushing his jeans down his thighs wondering how he ended up in this moment when he had come to her apartment to lie in her bed and ease the ache of missing her. He looks at his hands, he has been ignoring the twinges of pain in them, the color between his knuckles is slowly darkening and he suspects that by morning they're going to look pretty intense. He pulls on the shorts she gave him and realizes as they come over his hips that they're actually his. He doesn't recall a moment when she would have ended up with them and he can't really remember when he lost them. He tucks his cock against his body feeling far more comfortable now even though his erection is still obvious. The scent of the pizza has made its way back to him and he heads out to the kitchen with his stomach rumbling. She has set everything on the table and is seating herself as he stops to wash his hands at the sink. He turns just as she opens the box and is taking a deep breath with her eyes closed; it looks amazingly sexual to him. Of course, everything involving her looks amazingly sexual to him now. Now? Who is he kidding? There have been plenty of days he couldn't even look at her without his dick responding.
"Next time maybe we should order from somewhere a little further away." She starts laughing then because she knows what would have happened if they had just a few more minutes. With his words and the look in his eyes the lingering moisture between her legs heats back up.
"This is the best pizza in the area and you know it. Normally we're very appreciative that they're only two blocks away."
"Yeah but normally I'm thinking about a different hunger than I was a mere five minutes ago." His eyes are absolutely twinkling with the mischievous tone of his conversation and his smile is so sexy she is tempted to abandon the pizza and continue where they left off.
"We have to stop and eat El, I'm not ready to stop and think but we do need food." Her honest admission seems to sober them both just a notch. She tears the pieces off the pizza and starts dropping them on their plates. She lifts hers and takes a large bite, moaning as she chews.
"I've eaten a lot of pizzas with you Liv, I don't ever remember you sounding like that when you ate one." She just grins at him and intentionally moans as she takes another bite. "I already have a hard on and blue balls are you trying to kill me?" She almost chokes on the pizza and the laugh and he is once again smiling like a fool while he attacks his own piece. It's right at that moment that she notices and her expression shifts to concern. She takes another bite and sets her pizza down; grasping his hand she brings it closer so she can look more carefully. She tips it back and forth in the light, pressing here and there with her thumb and noting when she feels him tense from the pain.
"What happened here El, this looks fresh."
In his work monotone he responds quickly, "I accidentally closed it in a door." Her eyes flick to the other hand and her brow raises.
"Both of them?" She picks up her pizza as a smirk tugs at his mouth.
"Yeah, I'm quite the klutz." He's looking right at her now, waiting for detective Benson to completely surface.
"Funny but you have more coordination than you do honesty at the moment, now what happened? Is there a perp out there with a body part that matches that nice shade of purple?" He raises his brows this time, knowing that she's trying to gauge the seriousness of the event. His alter boy conscience sounds in his head with a squeaky preteen sound, reminding him of that deal he made with god just after bruising his hands.
He sighs heavily and she watches the muscles in his jaw and neck move as he chews and swallows. She wants to climb onto his lap and kiss him there, opening her lips and pressing her tongue against each dip as the muscles move beneath her. Her eyes flick back up and he's staring at her and she knows she's been busted so she just smiles at him, waiting. She lifts her pizza and stares at him and he knows she could wait all night, detective Benson has returned.
"No, no perp, just some tile in my bathroom that needed adjusting." He has a look on his face and she knows he doesn't want her to keep asking. She says nothing, just sits and eats, occasionally taking a drink from her beer. "I was just having a bad day Liv, until I came here it was just a really bad day."
She doesn't look at him, "a difficult case?" She wants him to answer, this is the old them, the dysfunctional them and she needs them to be different, at the very least she needs them to be past this.
"Liv, it's just…no, it wasn't a bad case." He looks away and then a cold feeling grips her stomach because if it's not work then it's something with his family, or the other woman, the temporary partner. The panic rushes through her and her throat tightens. She should have taken the time to talk to him before all this happened. She really has no idea what's going on in his life. He could have come from a fight with Kathy or Dani or some woman she doesn't even know. Her stomach rolls. She's a fool to have let it go this far. He's used to a different kind of woman, the kind that knows how to throw a dinner party, how to set a table with the good linens, to make a home, how to greet a husband. She is none of these things; she doesn't even know the difference between good and bad linens. She presses her palm against the smooth cool wood of her naked table, knowing she doesn't own any linens herself and until this very moment hasn't cared.
She lets herself wonder for one second what kind of woman Dani Beck is and then is immediately angry. She hates her even though she shouldn't, she does, intensely. She knows why too, because she got to be that woman with Elliot, the new partner like Olivia was a million years ago. Only when Olivia did it he was married and Dani got to have that time with him as a single man, getting to know him, chatting over coffee during a steak out, watching that grin spread across his face when he knows he has the perp. She got to sit in the car filled with the scent of him and hear his warm voice relay the highlights of the hockey game while he ate her egg roll from their favorite Chinese restaurant. Bitch. She got to sit in the interrogation room with him and watch him work with his testosterone at full throttle and not worry about his wife, his kids, his conscience, his religion or the damnation of his eternal soul. All she had to think about was whether or not he had a hard on and whether or not she wanted to fuck him. Fucking bitch. She got to choose whether or not she loved him. Yep, Olivia hates her.
He sees the look on her face and knows something has gone terribly wrong.
"Liv, whatever you're thinking, you're wrong. Look I didn't want to get into this right now because it was you, you were the cause of my bad day." He drops his head and sucks a hard breath into his lungs. "It had been so long since I heard from you and no one could tell me anything, and I just missed you so much. I started to think I was seeing you on the street. I followed some poor woman that I thought for a moment was you. I just couldn't accept that you were gone, that you might not be back." He pauses for a moment, trying to gather the words to tell her, to confess. "I wouldn't think about it, I'd push the idea that you had left as far down inside as I could. When Dani was sitting in your desk I wouldn't look at her so I could pretend it was you. It never worked, she didn't have your scent and even in my peripheral vision her posture and shape were all wrong. I spent every day trying to keep the truth of your absence from crawling inside me and becoming real. You were out sick, getting lunch, running late, in court on a case…anything but gone." Tears threatening to fall hover in his eyes so when he closes them a few slide down his cheeks and she desperately wants to reach out to him but she knows he needs to finish.
He leaves his eyes closed as he continues, "today when I caught up to the woman that was SO not you and she turned around, it broke the spell and I couldn't pretend any more so I headed home in this blind rage. I don't even remember much except that I took a taxi, got home, climbed fully clothed into a freezing shower and just came undone." His voice is a rough whisper and his hand has curled into a tight fist on the table as he finishes. "I didn't know I could feel like that and not die from it." His entire body is tense, the definition in his muscles deepening as he stiffens. In that moment she can see him, filled with pain, his body red with the rush of anger and adrenaline as he beats the wall, trying to crush the raging emotions, replacing them with physical pain. She knows him like this, understands him and is suddenly inside his head more intensely than when they were in bed. If she had lost him in the way that he thought he had lost her, she would be destroyed. She can not stop the tears that trickle down her face but she isn't crying because of how she knows he feels, she's crying because she knows she's the one that made him feel that way. So much for not stopping to think.
She picks up his hand and pries it open; her touch causes him to relax some. She lifts his hand; placing her lips over each knuckle she kisses them ever so gently. His eyes are still closed and she gets up and slips her leg over his lap, pulling him against her. She holds him tightly, letting the single sob that escapes him soak into her skin. She feels him tremble against her and he tightens his grip as though he can't hold her close enough and she squeezes him back because she wants him to know that she's here. She has never seen this kind of emotion from him but she's grateful he let this much go, even as she feels him reeling it back in, because she knows this grief belongs to her. She has always wanted to be this for him, the place that he can release those emotions that get too big and threaten to destroy him, for years she has fought the urge to sooth him. She strokes the back of his head, the tears still streaming down her face long after he has stilled. His arms loosen their hold on her so she too lets go and leans back to look at him. He attempts a smile but it's only a lopsided beginning.
"Your pizza's getting cold and your beer is getting warm. That's a lousy combination." She manages a small smile as he reaches up and wipes the damp tracks from her cheeks.
"That's okay because you're going to warm up my pizza and get me another beer while I go wash my face." She loves that he has taken them back to where they're comfortable in one sentence but what's been happening between them makes her think that they may be able to handle the emotions even if they still have to learn the conversations that go with them. It's a step in the right direction but she sighs deeply as the voice in her heads reminds her that it's still a long way from knowing how to be in a relationship, it's still a long way from knowing how to stay. She slides off his lap and feels him squeeze her ass as she steps away.
"Hey, all puns intended did you just try to cop a feel?" She tries to sound stern but fails miserably.
"Yeah and if you'd just stay still, I'd do it again." His grin has returned and she high steps out of his sweeping reach and disappears around the corner.
He drains both of their beer bottles and then does as he was told, reheating the pizza and getting them both a cold one. He's chuckling as she returns to the room, obviously entertaining himself.
"Keeping your self amused in my absence I see." She slides gracefully back into her chair as he sets the hot pizza in front of her.
"This is what my kids call a do-over, when you get to start from the beginning again."
"Well, let's see, where was I? Oh yeah, I was just enjoying my first bites of New York pizza in months." She closes her eyes and brings the pizza to her lips moaning softly as she sinks her teeth into it. She pulls it away slowly, letting the cheese stretch and snap so she can dart her tongue out to catch it. She chews carefully, enjoying every bit of flavor before licking her lips and opening her eyes.
"Liv, now I'm going to get a hard on every time I see a pizza." She starts laughing again and he thinks he may be addicted to the sound of it. Despite the light atmosphere he can feel the need sparking between them.
"Really? Maybe I'll start eating pizza everyday."
"Believe me Olivia, you don't need any props, you're devastatingly sexy without the pizza." He can't believe the things that he's saying, he's thought them a million times but saying them feels strange to him and yet he can't seem to stop, doesn't want to stop. He can see a little color rise in her cheeks at this last statement and she grows quiet as she eats. Compliments always slow her down and he knows that but there are so many things he has suppressed that he always wanted to say and now, well, now he's not suppressing anymore. They eat in a comfortable silence. When she feels strong again, like she can speak without the threat of tears she decides to ask a few questions. She can't let this night continue without knowing some things, it's too important to assume. She has to hear him. She sucks down the last of her beer, wishing suddenly that it was something much stronger. She get the last two from the fridge and sits back down as she hands him his and he nods his appreciation. He feels the change in her mood and waits to see where she's going.
"El, I have to ask you a couple of questions and well, I should have done it before but…but I didn't and that was a mistake, potentially a very costly mistake. So…" She sucks in as much air as her lungs can hold, her gaze crawling up his body as she begins to speak again. "Would we be here if Dani, or Kathy for that matter, had wanted you enough to fight for you?" The fear is like a living thing sitting between them, more attached to her than her own shadow, slowly sucking the oxygen from the room. Her skin feels unnaturally dry and her palms unnaturally moist. She thinks it feels like those dreams in which she steps off the roof of a New York skyscraper. She's falling fast, growing heavier by the second as gravity increases its hold on her. She wants to wake up before she hits the ground and dies or she wants to suddenly be able to fly. She stares into the blue of his eyes, a vast horizon that makes her should blades suddenly ache for the growth of wings. She always thought those dreams were about suicide but maybe they were about choices. She feels the hand of fear stroke her cheek, bringing her back to the moment as he finally begins to answer her.
Elliot freezes because although he couldn't voice exactly what he thought she might ask; this was no where on the list of possibilities. It's clear to him that she doesn't understand what happened with Dani but even clearer that she thinks she's some kind of consolation prize. He shakes his head in disbelief.
"Liv, Dani was never a real possibility because all I ever wanted from her was for her to be you. There was no 'Dani and I', there was only the woman I wanted to be you. It was wrong of me and unfair to her. She couldn't do our job because she couldn't deal with the victims, she couldn't live with not being able to fix them. She was a strong woman and special victims broke her in less than two months. It made me think of you differently, of how much it must have taken for you to show up for this job everyday for eight years, of how you reach out to the victims on the worst day of their life and get them to trust you so you can get them help. I never really thought about what it would feel like to be a woman and be in this field, not really. If I had to face men that were raped and beaten everyday, if I had to be reminded of my own vulnerability and still come up strong every day, I couldn't do this job. I don't know how you do it. The point is, I didn't walk away from a relationship with Dani and end up with you." He sounds a little angry in that last sentence and she winces, just slightly, the feeling of the freefall continues and she arches her back a little as she prepares for the impact she's sure is coming. He takes a long drink of his beer, pulling a good third of the bottle before setting it down. He's pretty sure he's never been this thirsty in his entire life.
"As for Kathy, I'll always be tied to her because she's the mother of my children but I don't want to be with her. I thought I should go back because I thought I should keep my promise and fulfill my obligations as a father and a husband but I can see now that a peaceful marriage for the wrong reasons is just as damaging as a violent marriage for the right reasons. In the end I knew it was the healthy thing for all of us, the best thing for all of us so even if Kathy wanted to fight for a relationship it wouldn't matter. I can be a father without being her husband." He pauses and her voice is small in the room.
"That's just it El, you're a father and a husband and I'm uncomfortable after a third date. What do you want with me?"
"A life, Olivia. I want a life with you. Our life, whatever we decide to make it, not a replacement for Kathy or plan B after Dani. You. I want you. I've wanted you for so long and I never thought I'd get this chance, I just accepted that part of my life would always involve wanting you." She blinks slowly; his words are coming fast but the more he talks the stronger the sensation of slowing down. She lets him take her hand, resting it on the table. "I don't know what life with you will be like but having seen life without you I'm sure of one thing, that's unacceptable. I need you in my life. Do you understand? In my eyes, there's only you."
Olivia is very still because her feelings are so ambiguous she's afraid if she moves she'll just split apart. If she's honest with herself, these are words that a part of her has always wanted to hear from him but they also give her nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. She has always loved the idea of a relationship with him but the reality is something that takes her breath away. She finds herself immersed in contradictions, feeling both safe and terrified when she's with him. She tries to remember how she felt during those undercover days when she passed the time thinking about the details of the life they could have together. The leisurely atmosphere of those thoughts escapes her now and she flexes her shoulders against the tension gathering there. She drags her fingertips over the subtle changes in the wood grain of the table, noting the lines of graduating color as though they hold some great importance, some secret truth that she needs to read there.
"How do you expect this to work Elliot? We're partners and even if we weren't, I have no point of reference for how to have a relationship. Think about it, I have never done this successfully. What are the odds that this will work and not destroy who we already are to each other? That's a price I can't afford to pay."
"Hey, slow down, since when do we have to have all the answers today? We can do this the way we do everything, we'll take it as it comes and figure it out together. We're great partners, why wouldn't we be great partners in this? You may not have been successful in a relationship with other men but we've managed eight years through some very difficult times and we're still together. That means you've had an eight year successful relationship already. Now you just get to have sex too." He wants to keep a straight face but the wicked grin that matches his thoughts appears.
"I can't lose you Elliot." He feels the root of her words burrow deeply into him and take hold and he nods.
"I know Liv, I can't lose you either but we have the power to keep that from happening. We won't let it happen. I won't let it happen. I promise." It's a foolish promise and she knows it, some things he can't control no matter how much he'd like to.
"Don't make promises you can't keep Elliot, it's dangerous." They're teeter tottering between playful and painfully serious to ease the conversation but she wants to be sure that despite the playful, he feels the weight of the serious.
"I said I promise and I mean it. What do I have to do to prove it to you?" His look is all sex now and he may as well have put his hand between her legs and stroked her.
"Now you're just trying to get into my pants." Her eyes have grown heavy with desire and he shifts in his chair as his penis tightens.
"You're not wearing any." Her face colors just slightly and the urge to be inside her pounding out his need for her wells up inside him with surprising force. She tips her beer, letting the rest of the cold liquid slide down her throat in an effort to cool herself off. It doesn't work, even as she sets the empty back on the table she can feel the hot pulse between her legs, a heartbeat of desire throbbing deep in her pussy.
She gets up and walks across the small kitchen, a breathy 'follow me' blows in his direction as she passes and he's immediately on his feet, trailing behind her. She walks into the bathroom and turns on the shower but before she can turn his arms snake around her waist and pull her against him. She feels his cock as it presses against her and the solid wall of his chest as she leans into him. His shorts are gone, he must have peeled them off as he stepped into the room. He lifts her shirt over her head and his lips seek her neck with hunger, his mouth open and moving over the tender spot still marked by his earlier attention. She moans a response as his hands move, his thumb and middle fingers grasp her nipple while his index finger strokes continuously across the tight bud. His other hand is already between her legs, his fingers plunging into her as though they have always been inside her and her muscles clench, holding on and pulling him deeper. Her leg starts to tremble and her knees grow weak as the multiple sensations rob her of any focus. She should be embarrassed at how her body arches unashamed into his touch, how her hips rock forward to take more of him and then push back eagerly against his waiting cock, how her head falls to the side as purring sounds of need encourage his every move. He walks her forward, nudging the back of her knee with his own so she steps one leg into the tub. He takes advantage of her spread legs and adds a third finger, pumping in a sudden burst. She cries out and reaches to the tile wall for support. He pauses and steps into the water, pulling her with him. Once they are both standing in the stream she feels his fingers leave her, his palm cupping her hip as he steadies them both.
She turns in his arms, facing him she pulls his mouth to hers and tastes him, moaning and deepening the kiss.
"Hmmm, pizza and beer, you taste good." She is smiling at him, a look he has never seen on her face before today but that stirs so many feelings in him. He reaches for the shampoo and starts doing her hair, massaging his fingers into her scalp, down her neck and shoulders, cleaning her body with gentle foaming strokes. The personal attention makes her just a little uncomfortable even from him. She's not used to allowing anyone this kind of access to her, the intimacy still leaves her feeling so exposed. She closes her eyes as his hands move over her, letting the feeling of him soak into her, maybe by some form of osmosis she can make his nearness less frightening.
His voice is a caress along her neck, the sound of it making her nipples harden even more. "I've wanted to touch you for so long, imagined a thousand times how good you would feel under my hands and I wasn't even close. I still can't believe I'm here with you, like this." How he so often knows exactly what she needs to hear will always be a mystery to her. He's tipping her head as he rinses the soap; her hands linger on his chest, caught between pushing him away and sliding around his neck to pull him closer. She opens her eyes, appreciating his disbelief in being with her. She soaps her hands and smoothes them over the front of him, her palms flat and pressing over each firm muscle as she lathers his body. This feels very surreal to her, having someone in the shower with her is new and then there's the fact it's Elliot. Hmmm, it's Elliot. She would like to be just a woman for a little while, not Olivia Benson, not a detective or partner but just a woman, specifically, his woman, in that primitive possessive caveman 'let's duck into a cave and fuck' kind of way.
"What are you thinking about right now Olivia?" She realizes as she hears his voice that she has been transfixed on his chest, her hands moving in a repetitive pattern over him. She knows she's blushing and there isn't a chance in hell she's going to tell him what she was thinking. She reaches down and soaps his bobbing cock, her grasp is firm and steady along his length. He groans, his eyes fluttering once before closing as she tightens her fist around him. She feels him harden until there is no give to the flesh beneath her fingers at all. He turns with her, letting the water rinse them as he pushes her against the wall. His mouth covers her nipple and he sucks hard, pulling his teeth against her, searching for her threshold and finding a guttural cry of arousal instead.
The water has run cold and with his long reach he shuts it off then grasping her under her ass he lifts her. She grabs him around his neck, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist as he leans slightly.
"EL!" The panic is evident in her voice as she throws out a hand to the wall to steady them. In the throws of passion he has hoisted her high so his face is tucked against her breasts as the low rumble from a chuckle vibrates into her.
"I've got you Liv." She pulls back the curtain and he steps carefully out of the tub.
She kisses the top of his forehead, "wouldn't it be easier if I just walked?"
He walks the few steps to the counter and perches on the edge of it. His hand slides from her cheek to between her legs, spreading her wet folds and pushing past her walls as he set her down on his lap. She locks her hands behind his head and arches back, grinding her hips down onto him and moaning. Even though it isn't the first time she is still surprised at how he fills her, his thickness pressing her walls apart. She wants to move, to feel him moving within her but she has limited leverage here. She unhooks her feet from behind him and presses her toes against the wall behind him. Now she's in business and he knows it, he smiles, watching her dark eyes smolder and more grateful than ever that she's a woman who's determined to get what she wants. He leans back as she pushes up with her legs and lifts, he grabs her hips just to hold on to her. She sinks back slowly, letting her weight carry her. He groans deeply as she rises again, tightening around him. She pauses and kisses him softly, smiling as she leans back and starts a quick rhythm over him. As he leans he realizes he can see them in her wall mirror across the small room, he gasps at the sight of her, her long muscled back and perfect ass flexing gracefully with the rise and fall of her. His hands tighten on her hips, increasing the force of her movements. Her breasts sway in front of him, taunting, and it's too much for him, he knows he isn't going to last. He lets go of her hip and presses his thumb back and forth over her clit as she moves, she cries out and slams down against him, her muscles seizing around him when he suddenly explodes within her. She's riding over him, her whole body tight and arching into the waves that crash through her. Her hands are slick with sweat and he feels her grasp slipping and her thighs sliding along his. His name is echoing in the small room. He desperately needs to pump into her; his thighs are solid with the coiled urge. Their bodies are hot, their skin on fire with the heat trapped between them.
He lifts her from the hips, gently easing her off of him and setting her in front of him. "Stand for just a second baby, I'm going to cool you off." He pushes away from the counter and stands her in front of the sink, getting behind her he turns on the cold water. She braces her hands on each side of the sink as he reaches under her arm and splashes her chest, rubbing the cool water over her breasts. He doesn't wait at all, while she is still fluttering he is pushing into her again because he isn't done yet and they are already so high they are now headed somewhere they have never been and he can't stop. Images of her pulse in his brain; bending over the counter, pushing that fat pink dildo inside herself, naked on the table in the interrogation room, under him, on him. He calls to god and groans her name while he grips her hips tightly and pumps within her, a hot liquid running down her thighs as she cries out to him. Entering her from behind, he hits a sensitive place within her and her hips jerk as he strokes past the patch of pleasure nerves. She cups a handful of water and pours it down her back between them, trying to cool the fire. Her head drops forward and she pushes back into him, opening herself while her body cums and climbs higher with him. She feels like she's coming apart, rumbling from her innermost core. He is relentless against that tight spot within her, beating against it like the frantic rhythm of a drum as her body arches hard until they both fall screaming off the cliff again. His eyes squeeze shut and light bursts behind his lids as his body surges forward, exploding inside her, the pleasure cresting and rushing through him. She is pounding the counter, her body rising up and pushing into him as the waves flood through her, shattering over her and wracking her frame as though trying to break her. There are spots in her vision when she opens her eyes and she can't hear, so she closes them again and waits as her hips keep rocking against him. Her womb and pussy ache as muscles deep within her seize through the orgasms.
He knows nothing but the feel of her body squeezing his penis and her ass pushing into his belly. He is not aware of yelling or seeing or hearing, they were all drowned in the feeling of her. His balls hurt, not a little, a lot. They ache in a way that makes him want to wince and smile at the same time. This is the first thing he is aware of beyond the feeling of her body. He is still moving in small thrusts inside her, more of a comfort rocking than anything else. He's waiting for his senses to return so he can move. He reaches and turns off the water but it's her that causes him to move. She's chilled and trembling, her body still fighting for steady air. Her hands are curled into fists and he can see the goose bumps rising on her arms. He reaches over and grabs the stack of bath sheets, pulling them to the floor. He snaps one open and eases out of her, everything feels tender, her muscles twitch as he leaves her, pushing him out. He wraps the towel around her and feels the protest in his legs and groin as he steps back. His chest is still heaving for air when he bends and snags a second towel from the floor and pulls it around his waist.
He opens the door and looks at the distance to the bed, wondering if he has the strength to get them both there. She stands up straight and turns to him, clutching the towel and resting her forehead on his shoulder.
"It's okay, we just need to get to the bed." When she doesn't respond he lifts her face, her eyes are haunting with the intense vulnerability swimming in them. He squeezes her tightly against him and walks her to the bed; she lies down still wrapped in her towel. By the time he has gotten them water, turned off the lights and returned, she has crawled under the covers and pulls them back for him. He lies down and pulls her against him, holding her tightly, kissing her hair. Although his other senses have returned he somehow retains the feeling of his world being only her.
She closes her eyes as she pulls off the towel and nestles closer to him. She's thinking about these last minutes in which she has been aware of nothing but pleasure and she holds them up against all those moments in her life that she knew nothing but loneliness or pain. She understands now, in one crystal moment why people stay together, why they allow themselves, as terrifying as it is, to trust one person and to feel. It's because of this, these few moments in which everything else is stripped away and you feel enough for a lifetime.
Comments are always welcome and greatly appreciated, thanks for reading.