A/N: This took a lot longer than I thought it would, mostly because I kept listening to my inner critic instead of just writing what I wanted to write.

But now that it's here, I'm wondering if this needs some kind of CW because if you thought the Greece chapter was ooc, this is probably gonna top that. (Pun absolutely intended, hehe) Idk. Good luck I guess, and I hope you don't hate it :)

It starts, as most birthdays do, in the morning.

Or rather, she starts it by kissing my neck, and then my shoulder. Making me smile a tired smile as I'm gradually pulled from a deep sleep. Making me hum a tired hum, as I find myself floating somewhere between this world and whatever dream I was just having.

"Happy birthday." She mumbles, and I, on my stomach, squirm against the sheets when her breath tickles my ear.

"Happy birthday-" I mumble back, only then realizing that maybe I'm more asleep than awake, because that doesn't make much sense now, does it? So I chuckle, knowing that she's smiling somewhere next to me, and I clear my throat to correct myself, "thank you."

I want to turn around so I can face her, but now she's kissing her way down my spine, and instead of turning, I surrender to the sweet sensation of her lips pressed against my skin, like a feather moving its way down my body, reminding me that sometimes real life is better than any dream could ever be.

(Ugh, it's kinda nauseating, I know. Never really thought I had it in me to become such a romantic.)

But… It's her lips. And it's not like I've ever had someone wake me up like this on my birthday before. So today I choose to enjoy it. To be here with her, taking in every touch and every second, and not waste time wondering whether I deserve this or not.

Today, I decide, I'll let myself deserve this.

"Sleep ok?" She asks, her question coming out all muffled against my lower back, and I let out a mix between a quiet gasp and a moan when I feel her hand on my thigh.

"Mm-" I respond, not really thinking when I spread my legs, inviting her to continue whatever it is she's doing behind me.

"You sound tired." She says, but in this teasing way, as if there's a surprise hidden somewhere in her statement.

"I'm always tired." I say, only half joking.

"Good thing you don't have to get up for work then." She mumbles, her hand pausing.

"Yeah-" I say, and once again I realize that there's no way I'm fully conscious because surely this is, birthday or not, a regular Friday, and my alarm is about to go off in like fifteen minutes, right? Surely, we have to get ourselves and the kids ready, and when we make it to the precinct, Fin will tease me about getting old(er) and Carisi will bring me a bear claw the size of his head?

Like all the birthdays that came before, isn't this just another day that ends in y?

Confused, I lift my head, attempting to look over my shoulder so I can see her. "Wait-" But my head falls down again when her hand resumes its journey, all the way up to my inner thigh, and higher, until I feel the tip of her fingers, lightly scraping over the thin fabric of my underwear. "What-"

"We're taking the day off." She says, and I can hear the grin in her voice, just as she slips past cotton, running two fingers through wet and heat, making me sigh into my pillow.

I have so many questions right now; Like how did she manage to keep this a secret? How long has she been planning this? Or, maybe it was just a joke?

Yeah, I have questions-

But, dear lord, my wife is about to finger fuck me from behind, I'm not even fully awake, and-

Her hand is gone.

Again, I squirm, wiggling my hips in protest, objecting the sudden loss of contact, and then huffing out a frustrated breath when the wiggling gets me nowhere.

"Go back to sleep-" She says, giving my ass what can only be described as a smack before she moves out of bed.

Finding myself suddenly more perplexed than tired and horny, (ok, I'm gonna be honest, I'm still very much horny), I finally turn on my back, locating her standing in the middle of the room. "What just happened?" I ask, running a hand through my tousled hair, straightening my tank when I notice that one boob is about to escape.

"What do you mean?" My wife smiles, closing her silk robe and tying a loose knot around it.

"You're just gonna leave me here?" I half scoff, half laugh, "like this? All hot and bothered?" Throwing my arms out, I add a pout for good measure. "On my birthday?"

She moves towards me then, still smiling, leaning down to press her lips against mine.

"Go back to sleep-" She repeats. "I promise it'll be worth the wait." And with that, she exits our bedroom.

Turns out, she's absolutely right. Maybe not in the way I imagined, but she is right.

Because somehow, even with my body all wired up, still confused about why I'm in bed and not getting ready for work, I do drift off at some point. And when I wake up an hour later, it's to the rare feeling of being rested, and more importantly, to the most beautiful sight in the world;

Liv, carrying a large tray containing god knows what, Jesse and Billie with their matching PJs and matching bed hair, and Noah, grinning, with Frannie by his side.

"Happy birthday!" They yell in unison, and before I can say anything at all, they (with the exception of Liv) come more or less charging towards me, climbing into bed, and smothering me with hugs and kisses.

"You guys-" I laugh, squeezing Billie against my chest when they eventually start to settle. "What is this?"

"Your birthday-" Billie giggles. "Did you forget?"

"I guess I did." I respond, faking a gasp. "Good thing I have all of you to remind me, huh?"

Five minutes and one butchered birthday song later, the tray has been moved to my lap, I'm sharing strawberries and blueberries and cupcakes with the kids, and I'm casting regular glances in my wife's direction, trying to convey how grateful I am.

But, I mean, she must see it, though.

Right?

Oh, I hope she sees it; How happy she makes me. How happy this makes me.

"We made something for you-" Noah says, making me look from Liv to her son, and only then do I notice the gift laying on the bedside table.

"You made it?" I ask, eyeing him first before my attention shifts to my daughters. Not that my kids don't have any talents, but sadly, they've inherited their mother's skills at arts and crafts. Which, is non-existent.

"Noah made it." Jesse says, with this grown up, overbearing tone in her voice that makes me chuckle a quiet "ok-".

"Open it." She continues, close to knocking my coffee over when she reaches for the wrapped present.

"Hurry up, mama!" Billie adds, impatiently and eagerly slapping her flat hands against the comforter.

"You in a rush?" I ask my youngest, teasing her with a poke to her tummy that makes her giggle.

"No, but-" She giggles a second time when I poke her again. "Liv promised to do my hair before school." (I don't have it in my heart to correct her and remind her that as much as she wants to be just like her older sister and stepbrother, she's not in school yet.)

"Alright, alright-" I say, starting the process of unwrapping the gift, realizing quickly what I'm looking at.

Somewhere, coming from the end of the bed, I hear Liv's voice asking if I like it, but I'm currently left speechless, fighting the growing lump in my throat.

"Now we have one with all of us." Noah says, moving a little closer so he can study the collection of pictures; The collection of what must be at least thirty different memories, from both before and after we became a family.

"Yeah-" I whisper, wiping at the tears now running down my cheeks.

"That's me!" Billie says then, all excited and adorable as she points to one of the pictures, the one where she's playing in the snow with Frannie and Liv. "And there too!" Here, she presses a finger against her own photographed face, sitting between Jesse and Noah under the Christmas tree.

"Sure is-" I smile, pulling her close to me.

"You like it?" Jesse asks, the genuine hope and anticipation in her voice enough to trigger another flow of tears.

"I love it." I say, studying my gift a few seconds more before carefully handing it to Liv so I can pull all three of my children into a tight hug. "And I love you."

We get around ten minutes more together, spent partly listening to Billie list all the different things she wants for her own birthday, partly interrupted by Frannie who manages to steal a half eaten blueberry muffin, and partly me, feeling overwhelmed, and once again wondering how long my wife has been planning this.

"Ok, kids, party's over-" Liv says, clapping her hands together before moving to the floor. "Gigi's picking you up in thirty minutes."

Reluctantly, Jesse groans as she jumps down from the bed, stomping her way towards the door. "Why do we have to go to school when mama gets to stay home?"

"Because sometimes us grownups get time off, too." My wife explains, and while the kids disappear out of the room and down the hall, she lingers a moment in the doorway, giving me a pointed look, a mischievous smile. "Besides, mama isn't staying home." And then she disappears too, leaving me just as confused as I was the first time I woke up today.

Once inside the shower, I keep forgetting that I don't have to rush through my morning routine. That I've somehow been given the gift of time, and that I can just enjoy this for a few minutes longer; The warm water rinsing my hair and running down my body; The soothing effect it has, just standing here under a steady stream.

And speaking of enjoying this-

"Hey-" Liv says, stepping into the shower, wrapping her arms around my waist, kissing my shoulder, reminding me of our unfinished business.

"Hey-" I smile, placing my hands on top of hers. "Kids gone?"

"Kids gone." She confirms, and I turn my head to kiss her, moaning when her hands move upwards, slowly, eventually cupping my breasts.

"Best birthday ever." I mumble against her lips, registering how they widen into a smile.

"It's not even 8 am." She says, making me moan again when the kneading starts, and then again when the pad of her thumbs move over my nipples.

"Exactly." I breathe, more or less lost in the moment, only aware of how her naked body feels against mine, the water running down, over and between us, making us all wet and slippery.

Fuck, I want, no, I need, her hand between my legs. Like, right now. So I don't really think when I grab her, guiding her down my stomach, eyes closed as my breathing quickens from the anticipation alone.

Except-

Godfuckingdamnit-

"Not yet-" She whispers, her free hand pausing against my belly, the other kneading my breast still, but more lazily, teasing, until she stops completely.

"Liv-" I groan, head falling back against her shoulder, tempted to just finish this myself. Anything, to get the release she's been making me chase since waking me up.

"I said not yet." She scolds, as if she's reading my mind. And with a final kiss against my neck, she moves, making us switch places, finishing her shower, as if I'm not ready to practically combust behind her.

Turns out, when Liv said "not yet", she really did mean not yet.

And listen, I can't really complain.

Because first there's the lazy morning at home where we can finish our breakfast in a comfortable silence. And the mandatory walk with Frannie, hand in hand around our neighbourhood, the air crisp without being too cold.

Next, there's the art exhibit. The one I told her about weeks ago, and then I kinda assumed she forgot and so I forgot too. It's not like we have a lot of free time anyway, so it's easy to forget about art and movies we want to see, concerts and sport events we wish we could attend, and so on.

But she didn't forget, and suddenly I find myself wandering a mostly empty gallery, taking in both the beauty of the art, and the woman walking next to me.

Then there's lunch, at that place where they serve our favourite seafood salad. And that's when she suggests we share a bottle of wine, and I, once again confused, have to remind her that at least one of us should stay sober for picking up the kids.

"We're not picking up the kids-" She shrugs, just as I close my teeth around the freshly baked focaccia.

"Huh?" I respond, dumbfounded and mouth full.

"They're having a movie night with Uncle Sonny." She smiles, clinking her water glass against mine. "We'll celebrate with them tomorrow when they don't have school."

Three minutes later, we're clinking wine glasses instead, and I'm struggling to understand who this woman is, and how I got lucky enough to marry her.

(Again, I know. Absolutely nauseating.)

Now, I might've been on a brief detective hiatus with my stint as professor, but I haven't lost my touch completely. So here's what I think will happen next; We'll finish our lunch, maybe we'll do something else in the city before we head home, grocery shopping on the way. Liv will make us dinner, and we'll share another bottle of wine. Maybe we'll start a movie, but I will grow too impatient after ten minutes, and straddle her on the couch, before we make it to the bedroom where my birthday ends with our bodies undressed and pressed together.

Because surely, surely, there can't be more than this?

"Ready to leave?" She asks, reaching across the table to intertwine our fingers, and I can't help it, I feel a sense of victory. I love being right.

Except, despite passing multiple shops, we don't stop to get groceries.

Ok, I think, adjusting my theory, maybe we're ordering takeout.

Except, when we're two blocks away from our building, she stops.

"I've been meaning to tell you-" She says, before I can ask any questions, "how nice it's been, having you back in the squad room."

To this, I smile, because I can't argue with that. It's been nearly five months now, and I haven't regretted it a single second.

"And how much I appreciate the work you do."

Smiling still, I tilt my head, not sure where she's going with this. "Thank you?"

"I think One P.P. feels the same way-" She continues. "And I think they're looking for a way to make sure you don't leave us again."

Clearly, my detective skills aren't what they used to be after all, because I really do not understand what she's talking about.

"You lost me." I say.

"They want you to consider the sergeant's exam, Amanda." She says, grinning.

Once again dumbfounded, I take an unsteady step backwards, while also searching her face for any sign that she might be trying to fool me. But she wouldn't, I realize. She wouldn't joke about something like this.

"Liv-" I whisper, shaking my head in disbelief as I move towards her. "Are you serious?"

"Very." She smiles, cupping my face, kissing me with the perfect mix of love and joy and passion, before wrapping me up in a tight hug. "Congratulations."

"I don't know what to say." I mumble when the hug ends.

"How about I give you ninety minutes to think about it?" She shrugs, smirking, and gesturing towards the building behind me.

Still processing all of this, I turn, only then realizing where we are.

"No-" I say, moving away from the entrance as I chuckle nervously. "No, Liv, enough, ok?"

"Here-" She responds, ignoring my protest and handing me the bag she's been carrying around all day, without me questioning what she's been hiding in there. (And they want me to become a sergeant?) "Everything you need when you're done."

Awestruck, I accept the bag first, and then the kiss she presses against my cheek. "Enjoy." She says, before turning, and walking away.

And that's how I suddenly find myself alone, in one of Manhattan's most luxurious spas. Wearing what I'm convinced must be the softest robe ever made, with this guy named Carl who is all muscles and not much else. Leaving me with what feels like no muscles, when he finishes the massage. And with a pair of wobbly legs, I'm guided towards a different room where a lady who stays nameless, takes care of my hair and make up, before I'm left alone to change into the outfit my sneaky wife has secretly decided for me, (including a new and highly suggestive underwear set.)

So we're definitely not doing takeout, I think, slipping into the tight fitting black dress and the matching high heels, studying myself in the full length mirror before I exit, locating Liv in the lobby a minute later.

"Ok, sugar mama-" I say, making my way towards her, noting how she just accepted her card from the cashier. "You can enjoy this now, but once I get that raise-"

"So you're taking it?" She smiles. "You're gonna do it?"

"Of course I'm doing it." I scoff, slapping her arm playfully before taking a step back to take in her appearance. "You look amazing."

Amazing is putting it mildly. But we're out in public, and even though places like these are all about the nudeness and oils and stuff, I don't think they'd appreciate it if I acted on my instincts right now. Oh, and that sergeant's exam might be off the table, too.

So I lean in for a fairly innocent kiss instead.

"Thank you-" I mumble. "For this."

"For the massage?" She asks. "Or the promotion?"

"All of it." I say, kissing her again. And I really do mean all of it. Not just today. "Thank you."

By now, I've realized that there's really no point in trying to figure out what's next on her list of surprises, so when she grabs my hand and leads me out of the building and down the street, in the opposite direction of our home, I simply accept it.

"I was gonna take you to dinner-" She says after a while. "But now I'm feeling more like drinks and snacks instead? You decide."

Being still full from our late lunch, and having been fed fruit and champagne all through my spa treatment, the choice is easy. (Besides, drinks instead of dinner means less time until I can get my hands on her, hopefully.)

"I have a lot of questions-" I say when we enter something that's not quite pub and not quite bar, half an hour later. "When did you plan all of this?"

"Why?" Liv asks, moving towards the counter, ordering one espresso martini for herself and one whiskey sour for me. "It's my wife's birthday." She shrugs. "What did you expect?"

"Not this-" I chuckle, throwing my arms out before I gesture towards myself. "Not you treating me like-"

"Like what?" She says, distracting me when she takes her seat and the split on her red dress reveals some of the naturally tan skin above her knee. "Like someone I love and care about deeply? Someone who deserves the world?"

"Stop-" I scoff, taking a seat too. "I'm just not used to this."

"I know-" She says, her playful smile softening as she reaches for my hand. "That doesn't mean you don't deserve it."

"I'm trying." I respond quietly, nodding.

Turns out, it's easier to accept love and affection when you're two drinks in. Even easier with three. So when she tells me I look beautiful, I don't fight her. And neither do I fight her when she leans in, placing a hand on my thigh, asking if I'm ready for another birthday present.

"Another one?" I ask, not so subtly uncrossing my legs, the fire she lit this morning, first in bed and then in the shower, coming alive with full force by that simple touch alone.

"Well-" She shrugs, kissing me, "I think this one is pretty high on your list."

"I'm gonna be real impressed if you managed to fit a pair of Nikes in that thing-" I joke, pointing at her clutch.

"Ha-ha." She says dryly, taking care of the check before grabbing my hand. "Let's go."

Finding myself seated in the back of a cab, a little drunk and convinced that we're finally on our way home, I don't really pay attention to anything that isn't her; The way she smells, the way she looks, and then, the way she moves closer.

"You know what I keep thinking about?" She whispers, one hand on my knee, the other making its way inside of my coat.

"What?" I whisper back.

"That night, in the motel room-"

To this, I nod, mumbling a quiet "mhm", vivid images of our first time flashing before my eyes, playing like a movie in my head. But, as she has shown me time and time again today, my wife is full of surprises.

"The threesome-" She says, and I immediately hold my breath. "In a different place, and-" She giggles, "if the guy wasn't a creep-"

I attempt an inhale, but my throat and mouth is so dry at this point, it ends up as a silent gulp instead.

"Would you've done it?" She asks, hand sneaking further inside of my coat, until she's basically cupping my breast. Making me glance in the driver's direction, checking that he's keeping his eyes on the road.

I suck some much needed air into my lungs, but only because she just moved her hand higher up on my thigh, taking most of the dress with her. And then she delivers the final blow.

"With me?"

I honestly don't know. Would I?

I mean, it was always a fantasy. One that I even told her about, years ago. Mostly as a joke, but kinda not.

Would I actually do it, though? How would it feel to see her, my wife, being touched by someone else? By a man?

I don't know.

Except-

"Yes-" I hear myself whisper. Jesus christ, I would've done it.

Who am I kidding. I'd do anything with her.

"Because-" She continues, "as much as I love having you all to myself…" Here, she trails off, kissing my neck, my chin, and then my mouth. "I can't stop thinking about how hot it would be, your face between my legs, while someone is fucking you from behind-"

Shifting in my seat, I try and fail to control my breaths when she starts to knead my breast in earnest. Her hand might be covered by my coat, but in no other way does she try to hide what she's doing.

"You sitting on his face-" She mumbles, making me squirm again, "While I ride his-"

"Liv-" I gasp, interrupting her when the mental image becomes too much and I'm convinced that I'm about to ruin this black leather.

Clearly, she couldn't care less. "How hot it would be to see you get on your knees and-"

"Fuck-" Lips smacked together in a thin line, my eyes roll back as I lose the battle of not allowing that eager hand between my legs to move further up.

Because in this moment, all is forgotten; The driver, the cramped space, the fact that we're talking about a fake scenario that will probably never happen. All is forgotten, because I'm so close, been so goddamn close since she woke me up. And if she just keeps doing that thing with my nipple, and I press my thighs together like-

"We're here." She says, all casual and smug as fuck as she moves, leaving me breathless and wordless while she pays for our ride before exiting the car, holding the door open for me to join her.

"Jesus-" I mumble, making my way out, not really trusting my legs when I step out on the sidewalk, realizing then that this isn't the sidewalk outside of our building.

"Uh, Liv-" I mumble, glancing around the street and then towards the hotel in front of us. I know which building this is, and I know damn well which it ain't. "This isn't home."

"No-" She smiles, taking a few steps closer before fishing a keycard out of her pocket, holding it up between us, "it's not."

"We can't afford this-" I say. Not because it's necessarily true, but because it feels strange, having someone spend this kind of money, on me.

"We can." She shrugs, taking my hand and leading me towards the entrance. And honestly, knowing there's a bed somewhere in there waiting for us, what choice do I have, other than to follow her?

"This feels very Pretty Woman-" I joke when we enter the elevator. "Please don't tell me that Richard Gere is waiting for us in our room."

She chuckles next to me then. "I think I'd prefer Julia Roberts."

"Nah-" I shake my head, closing the distance between us when the doors finally slide together, hiding us from the world outside. "Just us tonight."

"Just us-" She smiles, humming quietly when I press my lips against hers, hands planted firmly at her hips, wondering if she'd be willing to take me right here and right now. But there's a ding telling us we've reached our floor, so I pause my elevator sex fantasy, and let her escort me down the hall, until we reach room 707 where she stops.

Shifting my weight from one hip to the other, I'm just about to ask what she's waiting for, when she speaks.

"Safe word." She simply says, and I, fully convinced that she's joking, let out this nervous, spontaneous laugh I haven't heard before.

But, she's not laughing. And she's looking at me like that, and, well, shit, we've never needed a safe word before.

"You're not joking-" I mumble, needing to say it out loud, to make sure that we're on the same page.

Shaking her head, she whispers a barely audible "nope".

Heart racing, I move towards her, resting a hand against her chest, registering that her heart is racing too.

"Greece." I smile. "The safe word is greece."

"Greece." She smiles back, unlocking the door, inviting me into our room, into what feels like the beautiful unknown.

"Ok-" I say when we enter, eyes moving around the suite. "This is insane. You're insane."

"Maybe." She shrugs, removing my coat first before doing the same with her own, placing her clutch and the bag with the small suitcase that she must've brought here while I was busy being smothered by Muscle Man.

Sneaky, I think, smirking and eyeing her from across the room. Very sneaky.

But when she turns to look at me, my smirk quickly falters. Because I see it then; The lust in her eyes, the lust she's been pushing aside all day, like a silent and invisible catalyst, steadily driving us closer to this exact moment.

"Come here-" She says, sitting down on the side of the bed, waiting for me to react.

Moving towards her, she stops me when I'm three feet away.

"Take off your clothes."

Shit. Ok.

Reminding myself to breathe, I step out of my heels before pulling at the side zipper, the dress ending up on the floor a moment later while I'm left in only my underwear. The underwear bought for me, by her.

"All of it." She whispers after looking me up and down, and I have no idea why it feels like I'm undressing in front of her for the first time. Maybe because our first time happened so fast that I didn't really get the chance to think too much about it?

Either way, for no reason at all, I find myself nervous, and it's both a little silly, and a major turn on all at once.

"You approve?" I joke, when I have nothing left to remove, mostly to break the silence.

I mean, I'm pretty sure she approves.

"You're perfect-" She smiles, lifting herself up, turning around and lifting her hair, wordlessly telling me to unzip her dress.

The first thing she does when we're both naked and comfortably positioned on the bed, is to kiss me. And I mean like, really kiss me; Filling my mouth with her tongue, sucking on my lower lip before biting it and sucking it again, allowing me to do the same with her, until my lips feel swollen and near raw, and I'm arching off the bed, desperately seeking more.

But apparently, not yet is the driving theme today.

"Close your eyes-" She says, settling next to me. "And relax."

"Liv-" I groan. "I swear to god-"

"I know you need to come-" She interrupts, smirking. "It's called edging."

While giving her an impatient eye roll, I respond, "I know what it's called-"

"Then be a good girl-"

Fuck.

"And relax."

Huffing out a breath, I shake my fingers, shifting on the bed, and stretch my body out as I finally close my eyes, peeking up at her a second later.

"Do you trust me?" She asks, trying to sound stern but failing to hold back a snicker.

"More than I trust myself." I say, without hesitation.

"Then close your eyes, and-"

"Relax." I grumble.

While relaxed might be a stretch, I do what I can to slow my body down; Inhale, exhale, I do all the things.

But it's just- She's kissing me like this, and it's kinda soft but kinda rough at the same time. Her hands are in my hair, and then all over my chest. My skin is overly sensitive, and my heart is beating so fast, to the point where it feels like it's about to pound its way out of my ribcage. I really do what I can, but I'm so on edge right now that it actually, physically hurts.

"Spread your legs-" She murmurs close to my ear, and I can't help the breathy "finally" that escapes my mouth, making her chuckle next to me.

"What?" I respond, eyes remaining closed despite my need to look at her. "Been waiting to spread my damn legs all damn day."

"You complaining?" She teases, her hand now placed right above my pelvis, just the tip of her fingers moving, drawing some very suggestive lines across my responsive skin. "The breakfast-" She says, inching her fingers downward, "giving you the day off-", here she pauses for a moment, and I hold my breath in anticipation, "the spa, drinks-"

"Liv-" I try a smile but it stalls, because slowly, so maddening slowly, she spreads me open.

"This hotel-" She continues, and she's close to my ear again, licking the lobe before closing her teeth around it. "This bed-"

"Not complaining-" I somehow manage to say, forcing myself to lay still, to not allow my hips to arch up from the mattress. Because I have a feeling she would scold me for that, and right now, as desperate as I am, I am also fully dedicated to whatever game my wife is playing.

I can be a good girl.

For her.

Especially when she does that thing with her fingers; Moving up, and down, without hurry, teasing my clit, making me grab at the sheets and breathe with an audible tremble.

"You hear that?" She asks, kissing my jawline, one single digit circling my entrance. "How wet you are?"

Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"Mhm-" I whimper, spreading my legs wider, my body practically screaming for her to fill me.

And I can already feel the climax building, can feel it where she moves, and deeper where she hasn't touched me yet. I hear it in my breaths, and where she glides through wetness and-

Wh-

Her fingers are gone and there's some kind of movement beside me, but before I can react and start the begging, she's touching me again.

Except, it's not her hand this time.

It's something, smooth? But also hard? I don't know. All I know is that it feels fucking amazing, and-

Oh.

"What-" I breathe, struggling to keep my eyes shut when she adds more pressure, against my clit first before she moves it further down. "What is that?"

"Your last surprise-" She mumbles, kissing my mouth open, making me groan loudly when her tongue slides against mine in the very same moment as the mystery object slides inside of me; Inch by sweet, hard inch. And just when I think I can't take anymore, another inch.

And then, stars.

A sudden, unexpected but very much welcomed vibrating sensation, coming in waves, pulsating and making me gasp, and writhe against the egyptian cotton.

"You can look now." She says then, moving away only to straddle my legs in the same moment as I open my eyes.

For a few seconds I struggle to focus on what's happening in front and on top of me, but then I see it; Her hand working on what I'm only now realizing is a double and strapless vibrator.

"Holy shit-" I breathe, lifting myself up on my elbows to get a better view.

For a glorious minute, she continues; Stroking the free end of the toy, the base at the middle grinding and vibrating against my clit every time her hand slides down against it, making me gasp and bite my lip and roll my hips to enhance the sensation.

"I'm so close-" I say, bending my knees before stretching my legs out again, not really sure what to do with my limbs as my body seems to gallop towards climax.

"I know-" She smiles. And then… then I lose it all together. Because, while pressing some invisible button and pausing the vibrations, and with her eyes locked to mine, she shifts, leans down, lets a string of spit run from her mouth to the head, and- Christ, and closes her mouth around it.

Holy shit, holy fuck-

"God-" I hear myself whimper, reaching for her shoulders to have something to hold onto, nails digging into her skin as I watch the black shaft disappear inside of her mouth and down her throat. "Liv-"

This feels so… so new, so sinful, (even though I don't really believe in the concept of sin when we're both very much consenting adults), but still. It's her, doing this, and if I thought my heart was about to erupt from my chest earlier, it's nothing compared to what I'm feeling now.

Unable to stop it, my hips arch from the mattress, blood rushing to my face when I hear a mix between a gag and a moan. And that does it. Jesus, that fucking does it.

Terrified that I'll hurt her, I tap her forehead, making her release the vibrator from the confines of her mouth and use her hand instead, until the orgasm makes me cry out, teeth grinding, fingers twisted in sheets and in her and in whatever I can reach, before the cries turn into muffled moans and sighs, and I sink into the bed, blinking up at the ceiling.

I'm not entirely sure if I'm actually conscious when she moves, but I do know that she's breathing heavily, grinding against the toy, keeping her weight off me for the most part, before grabbing it, angling it, and then moaning loudly when she finally sinks down.

"Shit-" She groans, hips rolling slowly, finding her rhythm as she adjusts to the intrusion, while I'm still recovering, room still spinning.

When I finally get my eyes to focus however, it all becomes crystal clear; If there is a God, that God is most definitely a woman, and her name is Olivia Benson. Because there's no other way to explain what I'm looking at; Golden skin, mouth open, head thrown back, tits bouncing, strong thighs surrounding my hips, rocking back and forth-

"Shit-" She says again, but with a higher pitch this time, as if she's just on the verge of losing all control.

So I reach for her hands, the ones resting against my ribs, intertwining our fingers and urging her forward, gasping when she shifts, only to push my arms and hands back, over my head, wrapping her fingers around my wrists, hard enough for me to wonder how I'll manage to cover those bruises tomorrow.

There's a moment then, maybe just a glimpse of worry. It's brief, but I can see it in her eyes, that silent question: Did I take it too far?

I realize now, why she asked for a safe word. She must've felt it, at some point, that tonight might be a little different. And listen, it's not that we're vanilla. Sure, we can appreciate the softness and the slowed down love making, when time and mood allows for it. But more often than not, we like it a little hard and a little fast.

This? This is not that. We both know it.

And how can I tell her that I want her to take me exactly like this? I want her to pin me, to trap me underneath her. I want it to hurt. And I want her to possess me in that very specific way that I would never allow with anyone else.

I guess I can tell her by, well, actually telling her.

"Do it-" I whimper, raising my hips, begging her to keep going, "fuck me."

And after locking her lips to mine, inhaling sharply through her nose, she does exactly that; She fucks me. No holding back, no inhibitions, no second guessing or doubt; Just the push of her hips, and the arch of mine, her teeth against my throat, and ear, her fingers wrapped tightly around my wrists. She fucks me like that, making me come a second time as I twist in her hold, my arms burning, my legs shaking. I'm still coming and moaning when she pulls out abruptly, lifts herself up, and kneels in front of me.

"Turn around-" She demands, not giving me time to think before I'm lifted up too, met with a fierce kiss when we face each other. "Let me take you from behind."

Kissing her again, I nod and move; face down, the mattress dipping where I plant my elbows, not sure how my tired muscles are supposed to hold me up, but determined to try.

"You look so fucking good like this-" She mumbles behind me, and I instinctively arch my back, widening my stance to give her better access, confused about how I can already be aching for more, when I should be more than satisfied, and then some.

Still, it feels like relief when she sinks into me again, our collective moans filling the room when she makes the vibrator come alive. And for a long while that's really all this room is; The sound of us. The sound of a steady buzz and raw pleasure, skin meeting skin, heavy breaths, the occasional smack when her flat hand meets my ass, a stream of different curses mixed in with my name when she comes, nails digging into my hips as she holds me tight against her.

There's a brief moment of calm right after, a moment where she slows down, and I think that we might be done. Because, honestly, I'm just not sure that neither of us have anything left to give. But, she's moving again, slower, but moving still, and goddamnit, my body still wants her.

"Touch yourself-" She breathes, making me reach between my legs, my other arm trembling from supporting the weight alone.

Head hanging low, I bite down on my lip when my fingers make contact and she pushes into me again, realizing that maybe I was right, maybe I can't do this, balancing dangerously close to the line that separates heaven from too much.

But, I'm almost there, almost.

Greece, I think then. The safe word nearly slipping from my lips with every thrust; Greece, greece, greece-

Don't get me wrong. She's not hurting me, at least not in a bad way. I don't actually want her to stop.

But I'm so hypersensitive at this point that it's hard to breathe or think or feel anything that isn't her slamming into me from behind. I'm sore and trembling, struggling to keep the position, and-

"Liv-" I don't know if I just said her name out loud or if it was just in my head, but it doesn't really matter because she just grabbed my hair, forcing my head back.

"Can you take it?"

"Yes-" Hissing the word out, I push back against her, my entire body on fire, my skin tingling all over.

And then, for what I think is the fourth or maybe fifth time, I unravel completely, collapsing into the mattress, landing with a cry, a gasp, and then a silent "hmf-" as she collapses on top of me, a twitch in her hips making her push into me one last time.

"Greece-" I half groan, half mumble against the pillow. "I'm… done."

"Me-" She starts, struggling to catch her breath, "too."

How long we stay like that I don't know, and it's possible I drift off at some point. But I can't really breathe, and with the toy still inside me, it burns between my legs. So eventually I twist beneath her, inhaling deeply when she pulls out slowly before rolling over on her back.

"It's official-" She says, smacking her dry lips before wetting them with her tongue, "you killed me."

"Eh-" I mumble, still on my stomach. "Carisi will probably go easy on me. I'll be out in two years. One, if I behave."

Getting a chuckle in response, I turn on my side, snuggling up against her.

"If it makes you feel any better-" I say, "you killed me too."

It might take us an hour or so, but eventually we make it to the bathroom and back, cleaned up, satisfied and exhausted. Now free to appreciate how comfortable the bed actually is. Free to appreciate that we can sleep in tomorrow. Joking about how we won't be able to sit comfortably for probably a week.

There's just something about these moments. When she's all stripped down, and it's just us, and I get to see these sides of her that I know so few have been given access to in the past.

It makes me love her even more, makes me even more grateful for what we have, when we came so close to not having anything at all.

(I know, I'm throwing up too.)

Still, I need to tell her.

"I love you so much-" I say, and maybe it's because my body is so worn out and tired, or maybe it's the alcohol. Or maybe, in reality, it's just her, but suddenly there are tears rolling down my cheeks. Happy tears, that is.

"I love you too." She whispers, inching closer, kissing my nose. "Happy birthday."

Sniffling, I turn on my back again, letting out a frustrated groan.

"What?" She snickers.

"No, I just realized I have to somehow top this for your birthday."

"How about you just top me?" My wife jokes, making me laugh a tired laugh. And with my lips curled into a smile, my birthday ends here; In this bed, with this woman, feeling happier and luckier than I ever thought possible.

Happy birthday, indeed.