Warning: This sex scene isn't really noncon, but it definitely isn't gentle, and it definitely isn't coming from a happy happy joy joy place.

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Chapter Twenty:

She isn't waiting for me when I unlock the door. The apartment is empty, and the front room looks eerie without any of the lights on. I tuck the spare key back into my pocket and hang my coat on the rack. I must have beaten her home, or maybe she's taking her time on the way here, trying to avoid this conversation. I close the door, but leave the lights off, heading toward the back hallway. I still haven't figured out what I'm going to say to Alex when she gets here. Maybe I won't have to say anything at all.

I'm not surprised when I end up in the bedroom, but I'm still wary. It isn't the best place for a confrontation, and I'm not in the mood for games. Not now, after my trust in her has been so profoundly shaken. I had managed to convince myself that her lies of omission didn't really count before, even the big ones, but this… this is different. She put both of us at risk instead of confiding in me.

I think back to our phone conversation, to the moment I met her at Linda Cavanaugh's door. 'I've got a surprise for you… We need to move quickly and find those tapes before Barnett flees the state… Nope, whatever you can find...' She tricked me into searching Sam's house without even saying the word 'warrant' once. I've always known that Alex is manipulative, she has to be for her job, but I never dreamed that I would be one of her targets.

A click echoes behind me, and I hear the soft sound of breathing. When I turn around, she's standing there, looking more of a mess than I've ever seen her. The perfect sweep of her bun is in tangles, her face is pale, and her eyes are ringed with red behind the lenses of her glasses. It's obvious that she's been crying. The happy, almost relieved-looking woman that greeted me in the bullpen just over an hour ago is gone.

Despite everything, part of me wants to step forward and take her in my arms. To comfort her and let her sob into my shoulder. It's what I've always done, and what I want to do. But this time, I can't find it in myself to feel much sympathy for her. She brought this on herself, and she did it by lying to me. "So?" I ask, "Was it worth it?"

She steps back. Pulls her lower lip between her teeth and shakes her head. "It's not like that, Olivia. I just…"

"Just what?" The last of my hurt is burning away, dissolving into anger. The pit of my stomach clenches. "Just thought that everything would magically work out? That you'd get some kind of backdated permission slip from Cragen and the DA's office once we had the tapes?"

"No." Her voice takes on a hard edge, and she straightens her shoulders. Even wounded, she's still proud. "I don't expect everything to work out. The tapes could be thrown out. I'm almost certainly going to lose my job. And…" She falters and her eyes dart away. "I could lose you."

Those four words slice open my chest. It's what she's been afraid of all along. Losing me. My fingers flex at my sides. I want to reach out for her again, but this time, I don't want to comfort her. I want to throw her on the bed and fuck her. It's how we've solved all our other problems over the past few weeks. Why not now?

I don't think. I step forward and grip her shoulders. She flinches, and her eyes snap shut, but she doesn't fight me. I crush her body against mine and bend down to bruise her lips. She goes stiff at first, but as soon as my tongue pushes into her mouth, I feel a familiar shiver against my chest. Maybe she needs to forget just as much as I do.

I don't talk to her. I don't have any dirty words or insults in me this time. I'm afraid if I start speaking, I won't be able to take it back later. Instead, I pull my mouth away and leave her gasping, tearing aside the collar of her blouse so that I can sink my teeth into her shoulder. She screams, arches against me, bucks along one of my thighs. That's permission enough for me.

I don't hesitate. I whirl her around and throw her onto the bed. Her arms shoot out to brace herself, but she's so unbalanced that she lands flat on her back. She scoots toward the headboard, and I follow her, pinning both of her wrists just beneath the pillows. "Liv…" Her eyes are swimming with tears, and I nearly stop everything to check and see if she's okay. But before I can get the words out, the anger resurfaces. Is it really so terrible to fuck my hurt and betrayal into her? Does it make things less horrible if she wants me to?

"Don't," I snap. I don't want to hear her talk. I don't want explanations, apologies, or anything tender from her at all. All I want is to push inside her and thrust until the pressure building in my chest and throbbing between my legs bursts. She stays frozen beneath me as I reach for the top drawer of the nightstand. The cock is the first thing my fingers hit. I wrap my fingers around the shaft and drag it between our bodies, flipping open the button of my pants and pulling them down to mid-thigh. I don't have time to bother with taking them off.

I don't look at her while my fingers start working. I'm already wet, almost embarrassingly slick, and it only takes a few short passes before the smaller end of the shaft is seated inside me. My muscles seal around it, and I raise my eyes again, checking to see whether Alex is watching. She isn't. Her eyes are closed, and her fists are curled tight in the bedspread, tight enough to make all the blood drain from her knuckles.

I don't give her a chance to prepare. I just flip up her skirt and pull her underwear down past her knees. I only bother grazing the stiff point of her clit and testing her entrance once with my hand before I line myself up. She's just as wet as I am, but she's shaking all over, and part of me isn't sure whether it's from arousal, exhaustion, or fear. But then her pelvis shifts down and her thighs spread a little further apart, and I take the invitation. I dig my fingers into the swell of her hip and slam inside of her.

I don't stop when she screams. I don't stop when tears start running down her face. I don't stop when I can't push in all the way inside of her. It takes a few thrusts - she's so tight, and I haven't prepared her - but I finally manage to bury most of my cock. I can feel her fluttering, clasping at me. If I've torn her, she doesn't seem to care. "Liv…" I start thrusting at the sound of my name, hoping to drive it out of her mouth, to take away her breath so she can't keep saying it.

I don't let myself hear the soft sobs I'm driving from her throat. I just push into her again and again, fill her as deep as I can. As hard as I can. I want this to burn. If she can walk when I'm finished with her, I haven't fucked her hard enough. She squirms underneath me. Struggles against my grip as I clutch her waist. Tries to pull her hands out from under my forearm. I don't let her. I keep her pinned and helpless, force her to take every thrust.

"Don't… stop…" she gasps beside my ear, struggling to pull in breath.

I don't answer her. I catch her mouth instead and swallow the rest of her words. She screams into me, and even though the sound is muffled, it makes me throb against the seat of the cock. As much as she's hurt me, I can't bear to give her up. Not her lips, and definitely not the silky, clinging heat between her legs. My thrusts are selfish, erratic, and a fierce, almost unbearable possessiveness flares inside of me each time I pump into her. She's trembling beneath me, almost incoherent, but her hips keep lifting to take me in.

I don't slow down, even when the muscles along my lower back start to burn and my arms shake with the strain of keeping her pinned. I hate her and love her all at once, but all of those emotions are swallowed up by need. I need to have her. Need her to share my pain. Need to come inside her, and make her come around me. I let go of her wrists and reach down to pinch the slick shaft of her clit. Just feeling it twitch beneath my fingers makes the fullness inside of me swell and threaten to burst.

I don't feel the end coming at first. My body's on autopilot, and I'm so focused on fucking her that her orgasm takes me by surprise. But before I realize it, she squeezes impossibly tight around me and rips her mouth away from mine, tossing her head back and forth on the pillow. Fresh tears run down her face, and she arches as warmth gushes out around the base of my cock, nearly forcing me out on a tide of wetness. Her hands fly up, and the sharp edges of her nails rake down along my back, leaving behind stinging trails even through the fabric of my shirt.

I don't stop to let her savor the contractions. I keep fucking her. Keep splitting her apart. Keep rolling my fingers over her clit as slippery heat splashes over my hand. She clutches down around me, squeezing so tight that I almost fly over the edge with her. I want to look down, to watch her come, but I can't tear my eyes away from her face. She's beautiful, even when she's crying. Finally, she goes limp beneath me, too spent to move.

I don't wait for her to come down. I'm still full, still aching, still twisted up inside with anger and lust. I haul one of her legs up around my waist, and the change in angle is enough. Each muscle, each centimeter of skin, each string of my heart pulls impossibly tight. Then, I snap. The next thrust sends me flying. Thick, heavy pulses run along my clit, tug at my inner walls, and as everything shatters around me, they even seem to shiver along the shaft of my cock. I bury myself inside of her and stay there, groaning into the sweet curve of her neck as my release rushes out of me.

It doesn't matter that she lied to me. She's mine, and there isn't room for anything else.

When I fall back into myself, I realize that I'm still moving inside of her, savoring the last pulses of my orgasm. She's quivering beneath me, around me, and each thrust forces a whimper to spill out from between her puffy, bruised lips. Judging from the puddle beneath our hips, I made her come again without even noticing, although maybe some of the mess is mine. She finally opens her eyes, and they're so fuzzy that I can't read the emotion in them.

I freeze. Think back on what just happened. I hear her voice echo in my head. 'Don't… stop...' Was there a pause between the words? 'Don't stop' or 'Don't, stop'? I play them over and over again, trying to remember, but it's all a blur.

Alex doesn't notice. Her hands lace around the back of my neck, trying to draw me down for another kiss. I let her, too numb to resist. A smile pulls at the corners of her mouth, and she falls back on the bed, too exhausted to move or speak. Her eyelashes flutter along her cheeks, and slowly, her breathing falls into a steady rhythm. I'm so stunned that it takes me a few seconds to realize that she's asleep. I stare down at her in disbelief, trying to fight the growing panic in my chest. She's completely passed out, with my cock still buried all the way in her and wetness dripping down over her thighs.

My stomach lurches. I'm terrified. Terrified to put a name to what I've done. The other times I've 'raped' her, I've been in control. But this… this is different. I was genuinely angry at her. Angry enough to… not to hurt her, but… Did I hurt her? I move back carefully onto my knees and stare down at her. She stays sprawled across the mattress, still dead to the world. Her outer lips are stretched wide around me, split open in a slick, shimmering curve of pink, but nothing looks wrong. I draw my hips back and pull out of her. A little wetness follows me, and I spread her apart with my fingertips as gently as I can. No blood. Not that blood means anything. I've seen enough rape kits to know.

I climb off the bed and yank the cock out of me, throwing it onto the foot of the bed without bothering to clean it. I know I should take care of the sheets, but I can't bear to wake her up. I can scarcely stand to look at her. I pull my pants and underwear back up without heading for the shower. It doesn't matter if I'm a mess. I drove here, so no one will see me. Even better, because I'm probably going to break down as soon as I'm in the car.

I don't look back as I hurry through the bedroom door. I can't. All I can manage is a soft, choked "I'm sorry," aimed down at my feet as I slip them back into my shoes and run for the refuge of the hallway.

. . .

AN: Hello, everyone. Thank you for being patient with me during my break. I do need them every once in a while. :) I also waited a bit to start posting updates this week for a special reason...

I am incredibly thrilled to announce the release of my latest book: Wolf's Eyes. It's the sequel to my original fantasy novel, The Second Sister. If you haven't yet, I urge you to check out the reviews for its predecessor on amazon! They're pretty stellar, if I may brag, and I truly believe this series is well worth your time and a couple of bucks.

This book took quite a bit of effort, even more than The Second Sister. I added 10,000 - 15,000 words of completely new content from the original version (including sex scenes), removed several scenes that didn't jive, and basically reworked the entire thing. It's a complete world away from what it used to be, and I'm really proud of it!

The story is about a girl named Cate, one of the supporting characters from the first book. She returns to her homeland to find her family and learn more about her magical powers, and ends up dealing with a lot more than she bargained for. Just like The Second Sister is a retelling of Cinderella, this story is a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood. Lots of romance and adventure, even more fighting/action scenes than TSS, and, of course, a healthy dose of sex, as per usual. Please, if you enjoyed it, leave a review when you're finished! Better yet, tumblr/tweet/FB about it with your lesbian or lesbian-appreciating friends. That is the SINGLE best way for me to spread the word.

Here's the amazon linkage: www dot amazon dot com/dp/B00MW8RFXI/

Here's the smashwords linkage: www dot smashwords dot com /books/view/468889

Paperbacks with Octo's gorgeous cover will be available in a few days.