I've got you under my skin.
I've got you deep in the heart of me.
So deep in my heart that you're really a part of me.
I've got you under my skin.

Author's Note: Excuse the change of tense halfway through this chapter. It just felt like it needed to be that way. Like I said, the characters don't always let me write this the way I had planned. Oh, yeah, and the story ends on an M here. ;) Lyrics are from 'I've Got You Under My Skin.'

Chapter 5: When The Masks Come Off

"You survived tonight." Hank grinned as he opened Benson's car door. "More importantly," he followed up with a typical Voight smirk, "so did I."

Olivia laughed, a little tiredly. "I still don't want to repeat that anytime soon."

"Oh, come on," he teased her, "not even for the pleasure of my company?"

Olivia smiled and pretended to consider. "Well...still no."

Hank pretended to pout. "I'm hurt."

"Get that look off your face." She rolled her eyes. "Noah tries that a lot and it doesn't work." Olivia thought for a moment. "Well, not usually."

They drove off from the Gala, Olivia leaning her head back against her chair and closing her eyes.

"I had a good time with you tonight, Voight."

"You sound surprised."

"Only surprised that I didn't totally hate the Gala."

"Well, I can make anything better." He grinned.

"You and your ego." Olivia rolled her eyes again.

"You know it's true." He smiled at her. "How can anyone resist this handsome guy? I charmed them all. Although, Benson, does that boss of yours always walk around with a stick up his ass?"

"Oh, come on, the Deputy Chief wasn't so bad. He actually was very relaxed tonight."

"That's relaxed?" Voight's face was plastered with shock. "God, I'd hate to have to work with him."

"He's not bad." She said. "He's tough but a good cop."

"I'd kill him after the first day."

"Why? Because he won't let you pull your usual shit?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You know it's true, Hank."

He shrugged. "I still don't like him."

"You don't have to." She patted his hand.

…...

The drive to his hotel didn't take long. He had the valet park it and both he and Benson walked into the hotel.

He turned to her, "Care for a nightcap?" And his face was serious, his eyes scanning her face. They both knew what he was really asking. Olivia's stomach fluttered a little because she sensed this time was different.

Both of them had felt things at that Gala, she knew. He hadn't said anything to her then or afterwards, but she had seen it in his eyes. And she had felt it too. This...this moment had been a long time coming. If she was truthful with herself, it had been coming long before he had come to that door in that tuxedo that molded the lines of his body.

"Simple question, Olivia." He said quietly. She heard a note of anxiety in his voice, even though he was clearly trying to hide it.

"Yes." She said.

And this time, Olivia was the one who laced her fingers through his hand.

…...

The ride in the elevator was tense. Both of them knew what was coming and both were nervous but trying to pretend it was just another night. One of many they had shared already.

Trying to ignore the elephant in the room, the unspoken words that lay between them, heavy as stones. Finally, the last passenger exited before their floor and the door shut.

Olivia: I don't know how to do this.

Hank: I haven't felt this way since Camille. How do I even tell her that without her bolting. I know the pain she's been through.

Olivia: I've heard these words before. And everyone has left me. What will make this different?

The door opened to his floor and they both proceeded to his room in silence. He opened the door, hand a little unsteady has he slipped the key in the lock.

They both stepped in and he closed the door behind him. Voight turned to her and said, "Olivia..."

And she's the one who, surprisingly to both her and Voight, moves first. She steps close to him, fingers removing his bow tie. "Let me help you with that," Olivia says softly, a faint smile. "You had some trouble last time."

"That's the only thing I'll have trouble with." He says hoarsely. She's so close to him and he can't get her scent out of his mind, it permeneates everything. And he puts a rough hand against her back and pulls her to him.

Throwing the tie on the floor, he growls, "Forget the fucking tie." And his mouth comes down on hers, hot and savage, his hands running up and down her back. And all he can feel is her. Her scent, her mouth, her body, everything.

He should have known. One taste of Olivia Benson and he was a goner.

Had been from the moment they had first touched in Central Park.

Too bad it took an evening of near-torture (okay, well not quite) to realize that.

And her fingers are light against him, undoing his buttons on his shirt. Both of them have waited too long. And she can feel how much he wants her against her lower body and she can hardly stand it. His mouth is on her neck now, sometimes nibbling, sometimes just kissing, and sometimes it feels like a bite. But she doesn't his roughness.

Voight's a rough man, at work and at play. But his roughness is surprisingly tempered with gentleness as his fingers work the zipper on the back of her dress, calloused fingers running against the heat of her tan skin.

And soon his shirt his off, and his cummerbund, and his pants. Her dress is a pile on the floor. Slipping off her bra and panties, her fingers scrape down his bare torso, lightly tweaking his nipples, reaching past the band of his boxers. And Voight hisses as her hand wraps around him. And he's so warm and hot and hard.

Thrusting into her hand, his mouth devours hers, hand running up and down her shoulder, tongue tangling with hers. And, God, he just wants to be wrapped up in her. So when she squeezes him a little bit, he growls into her ear, "Stop that or it'll be over before it started."

The blush that spreads across her face is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

"Benson..." He growls. He isn't playing.

Smirking over her shoulder, she gets down on all fours on his bed, her brown hair sweeping across her her back. Now totally naked, he crawls behind her, and slides her back against him. Enough foreplay.

He doesn't slam into her, though. Not at first. He enters her slowly, sliding in and out, hands playing on her full breasts, tweaking her nipples until they're hard. He's muttering words against her neck but she's so aroused she can't tell if they actually make sense. And he slides out of her again and she whimpers a little. And that's when he slams into her. She grips the bedpost hard, until she can feel some splinters slide into her palms.

But she doesn't mind the pain.

All she feels is him, hot and hard in her. The perfect fit. And he keeps pounding into her.

And then she decides to change the game a little. Flipping around, startling him, she pounces on him and straddles him.

"Fuck..." is all he can say as she takes him into her and starts moving on top of him. And she can tell that he's trying so hard to stay impassive, so she swivels her hips in a clockwise fashion and she can hear a rumble. He's still touching her, playing with her clit, and now she's the one hissing. Bending down she puts her mouth on his and his hands rub her back, her thighs and they're wrapped up in one another. And part of her wants to prolong this, the slide of his body against hers, the heat between them. But then he moves inside her and she has to...just has to come...

He moves her on her back and pounds into her. She's huffing now and moaning. And both of them are starting to tremble, Voight groaning under his breath. Olivia hooks both legs around his waist and he slides in and out, in and out...until

Ugh.

Oh God...

Don't stop, don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop.

He reaches down and plays with her clit, pressing down, and suddenly he feels her start to shake. "Ohhhhhh..." she starts to whimper and then she's coming apart and screaming and it's the hottest thing he's seen but he just keeps pounding while she seizes around him.

And when she spasms again, that's when he explodes with a low groan. And he collapses on her, still inside her. Her mouth traces his face, his ears, fingers running around his sweaty back. It was rough, it was gentle, it was everything.

She was everything.

He was everything.

They collapse against one another, letting the cool air from the ceiling fan blow against their backs.

…..A few hours later...

"Wow." Olivia collapsed on her back after their third bout of love-making.

"Tell me about it."

She leaned over to nuzzle his chest. "Have I told you how good it was to see you?"

"You might have mentioned it a few times." He said, a little tiredly, but with a sloppy grin on his face. Voight turned over to look at her face, she's glowing and absolutely beautiful to him.

"So where are we?" He asked seriously.

"Well," she said jokingly, "currently in your hotel bed, recovering from some of the best sex I've ever had."

He smiled a little and kissed her mouth. "Nice deflection, Benson, but you know we have to talk about this."

"I know." She buried herself under the sheets.

"If you're scared, that's okay." He said gently. "I'm not gonna bite."

Peering over the sheets, Olivia gave him a stare.

"Okay, I'm not gonna bite...much."

"I was gonna say – I have a few places on my body that may say otherwise."

She sat up, slinging her legs over the bed. "It's just complicated. I have Noah and live in New York. You're in Chicago. What if this gets more serious...someone's going to have to move and I have my job and I'm about to go for Lieutenant and I'm not sure..."

"Woah, woah. woah." Voight put his finger against his mouth. "Slow down, Benson."

Olivia stopped her rambling.

"No one said anything about moving. I just want to know what this" and he indicated the two of them, "is."

He looked uncomfortable for a moment, took a deep breath, and said, "The truth is, I'm kinda crazy about you, Benson. Despite the fact that you ask me to come to stuff like tonight and are basically a pain in my ass sometimes."

Olivia huffed, "If this is your way of wooing a girl, Voight, gotta tell you, it's not working very well."

"Dammit," Voight scratched his head with a slight smirk, "I thought that would have won you over."

She rolled her eyes at him.

He leaned over and rubbed her arm gently. "I don't know if this is love or what, Olivia. But I'd like to find out. I just need to know if you feel the same or if I'm just wasting my time. Be blunt, I can take it. I'm a big boy. If an occasional fuck is just what you want, then so be it."

After a long moment, Olivia looked down. "This isn't what I want, Voight." And she looked at him and saw the beginnings of disappointment across his face. But then she leaned over and touched his hand.

"I want to see where this is going, too. Look," she said apologetically, "I have a lousy track record when it comes to relationships. Maybe the problem was me." She added with a little bit of sadness.

"No, Benson." Voight leaned over and looked in her eyes. "The problem was with those idiots, not you. They weren't good enough."

"I'm damaged goods, Hank." She shrugged. "Damaged goods with a kid. Who would want that?"

"Have you even been listening?" Voight said with some exasperation. "I want you. Hell, I adore you. It's not just the sex – although, damn, that's goddamn spectacular – it's you. I want you, Olivia Benson, the good parts and the bad parts and the parts you choose not to let me see."

She scanned his face and he'd never been more serious.

"I want you too." She said.

Voight grinned. "See, that wasn't that hard."

She smacked his arm.

"Ow."

"Don't be such a baby, Hank."

"Insulting me now, are we?" He grinned at her, and pulled her close against his body. He was hard...again.

"You like it." She smiled at him lazily, reaching down under his sheet and stroking him.

"Hell, yeah." He kissed her mouth gently, nuzzling her nose.

"So does this mean I'm your girlfriend?" She looked up at him impishly as he lowered her to the bed again, sliding between her legs.

"Benson," he sighed, "I think we're a little too old for those labels." He thrust into her.

She arched up towards him. "You know what? I agree with you." Oh, yes, move like that, please.

"You agree with me?" He grinned down at her, sliding in and out. "Somewhere in hell people are breaking out their parkas."

She slapped his ass. "Stop talking, Henry Voight."

"Yes, ma'am." And he started thrusting harder, watching her eyes close as she writhed beneath him. She wrapped her legs around his waist again.

He brought his mouth down against her neck, her throat, her breasts. And she couldn't believe that he was all hers. Running her fingers through his closed cropped hair, she squeezed him as he continued pounding into her.

"I want you, Olivia Benson." He groaned against her neck.

And that was enough to make her explode. Pounding in and out of her, Voight rode out her orgasm and as he kissed her fiercely one more time, he stiffened and exploded in her.

"I want you too, Hank Voight." She whispered against his neck.

And they linked their hands together.

"Glad you came?" Liv smiled.

"Y'know, for a night of sheer torture, the end of it wasn't half bad." He teased.

She rolled her eyes – for the fifteenth time that evening.

"Here's to us." She kissed him softly.

"To us." He whispered against her mouth.

...

I would sacrifice anything come what might
For the sake of havin' you near

'Cause I've got you under my skin.
Yes, I've got you under my skin.