Disclaimer: No, not mine. God, if Dick Wolf had Elliot and Olivia doing what they do in this chapter, I would so be watching it, not writing it.
Author's Note: Ok, this was supposed to be up a lot earlier, but I threw my back out at the end of last week and have only been able to sit in front of a computer for about ten minute intervals. It sucks. But I have good news. This is done, I have a one-shot for Thursday well on the way, and Senses is about half-way done. Woohoo for me!
I was so floored by all your reviews for the first chapter, and I know I left a lot of you cough Sam cough hanging, but this should make up for it! So yes, this is smutty. Yeah, that's the extent of my warning. Lol.
Also, a lot of reviewers were reviewing as if this would be the start to a series. This is the end for this story, but I've been taking what you've suggested on board and am thinking about doing post-eps for season 6/7/8/9 where Elliot and Olivia are together after the revelations in this story. Does that make sense? If not, ask in a review and I'll explain better. So they'll be kinda casefile and very EO. So, we'll see how I go.
Read and Review and let me know what you think!
Nettie, thank you so much for all the proof-reading and encouragement. Love ya!
Sam, hope this eases your, er, pain. Lol.
To all my lovely reviewers; keep it up and I'll keep it coming. Pun definitely intended.
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"Ow, shit."
Olivia laughs against Elliot's lips, soothing the spot on his shoulder that had made contact with the wall. It was mainly her fault; she was the one who slipped her hand past the waistband of his jeans and onto his throbbing cock.
Elliot's head falls back against the wall, and she smirks at the way he pushes his hips into her touch. The thick column of his neck is now on offer so she presses her lips against the left side, sliding them up to tease at the lobe of his ear.
His eyes are closed, and his hands are holding onto her hips tightly as her own continues to stroke his hard length. Her inner muscles contract involuntarily at the thought of it inside of her, and all she wants to do is get him into her apartment. Now.
"Liv, you've got about five seconds to get your hands out of my pants before this is over before we start."
Olivia presses her head into the crook of Elliot's neck and laughs, lifting her hand from inside his jeans.
"You think that's funny?" Elliot's fingers tangle through her hair and bring her eyes to look at him.
Olivia smiles seductively at him, pulling her bottom lip under her teeth. "Maybe a little."
Instead of answering, he captures her lips in a searing kiss; blindly leading her down the corridor to what she hopes is her apartment. Her back meets the hard wood of a door, but whether or not it's hers is another question altogether.
His tongue is invading her mouth and his hands brand the skin where they're smoothing up and down her sides; and she's drowning. But she won't give up without a fight, and she gives as good as she's receiving.
The knob of the door is pressing painfully into the small of her back, but as soon as she tries to push off it, Elliot slams her back into it with his hips. Somehow, the Gods are looking down on them because her back makes contact with a flat surface, rather than the hard metal of the knob.
She has the distinct feeling he's enjoying the power he has over her at the moment, and the thought makes her thighs clench, the pressure becoming too much between her legs. She lifts her right thigh, hoping Elliot gets the message.
Luckily, he's always been smart when it comes to communicating without words, because his hand moves from her side to underneath her leg so he can hitch her up to his waist, his erection now able to press intimately against her centre.
Jesus, if this is what it's like with clothes on, she's not going to last once they're all off.
A moan she knows comes from her fills the corridor, and it startles her because she's never sounded that desperate when it comes to men. Usually, the roles are reversed and they're the ones begging for the extra bit of contact.
For that little bit more.
But against this door that she doesn't even know for certain is her own; she knows she would agree to anything that Elliot was to ask of her at this moment.
In response to her moan of appreciation, Elliot's hips thrust forward gently, the contact forcing her lips from his. He doesn't seem to mind; in fact she can feel his grin as his mouth moves to her collarbone, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin above her breasts.
She's so lost in the moment; she barely registers the door behind her moving until it's almost too late. But luckily for her, she's holding onto the safest thing possible.
Elliot.
He catches her before she falls backwards into a very tired and angry looking Mrs Watson.
She turns awkwardly in Elliot's arms, hoping that her shirt isn't as high up as she thinks it is.
She smiles, pretending that she hasn't just been caught making out with her gorgeous partner. "Mrs Watson, Hi!"
Her voice is about three octaves higher than usual, and she realises as she looks into the old woman's face, that she's never ever really spoken to her before.
And after tonight, she may never again.
"Ms. Benson." Mrs Watson's arms are folded and her face is the picture of a perfect scowl.
"We were just trying to get into my apartment, but obviously this isn't it...and then I fell er...against your door and uh...and Elliot just tried to help..."
Mrs Watson's eyebrow raises in the middle of her stuttered excuse; and then her arm follows, her door slamming on Olivia's red face. But whether it was from embarrassment or arousal, she wasn't sure. Elliot's face is buried in the crook of her neck, his laughter shifting the strands of hair at her ear.
"Fuck. She hates me."
She should be angry, but finds herself grinning instead as Elliot begins to laugh hysterically behind her, his arms still wrapped firmly around her waist.
"Why are you laughing? I'll never be able to borrow sugar from my neighbour!"
His laughter continues to vibrate against her back. "Have you ever borrowed sugar from your neighbour?"
His voice is a deep baritone; and each syllable hits her right where the pressure is becoming unbearable. She turns in his arms, spying that her door is about three steps to their right.
"Screw my neighbours. Let's try that again, in that direction."
She smiles at Elliot, bracing her arms over his shoulders and around his neck so she can lift her legs to wrap around his waist. With an agility she hasn't seen in years, Elliot manages to make the distance to her door in one and a half steps.
He's never been the sort of person to do a half-assed job.
Now against her own apartment door and with Elliot's eyes on hers, she reaches between them for the keys to her apartment. She can see the lingering question in Elliot's stare, but right now, she just needs to let go. There would be plenty of time for them to talk later.
He seems to realise that she's made up her mind, because the door to her apartment opens behind her, and before she can think about anything else, his lips are on her again.
With Elliot's head buried somewhere between her breasts, he's leading them blindly, and if he's not careful her coffee table might end their night prematurely. The last place she wants to end up is in the emergency ward explaining why Elliot has shards of glass stuck in his butt.
She moves her hands from around his shoulders to try and lift his head, but Elliot has other ideas, and she tries not to pass out when his lips latch onto her exposed nipple. She braces the top of her head and hands against the wall, her torso pushing up further into Elliot's mouth.
"Shit, Elliot," she can't help but swear as her fingers grip hopelessly at the wall behind her.
Her jacket is now hanging off her shoulders and she uses all the coordination she can muster at the moment to manoeuvre her way out of the excess material. She throws it somewhere behind Elliot, and winces slightly at the sound of something falling over.
But that's short-lived as Elliot takes her lead and pushes her top up her torso until the wall behind her gets in the way. He lets out a frustrated groan at the sudden obstacle and she's afraid for a second her favourite shirt may be in imminent danger.
So she takes matters into her own hands and tries to hop down.
"Put me down, El." She drops her legs from around him, grinning at Elliot's groan as the front of her body slides past his groin.
Her feet hit the ground, but her knees feel like jelly and it takes her a few seconds to steady herself. Jesus, she's only made out with Elliot, but she feels like he's had his hands all over her entire body.
In the meantime, Elliot makes light work of her top, and the cool air is a shock against her heated skin. Somewhere in the back of her mind it occurs to her that she's half-naked in front of her partner, but there's a larger part of her really doesn't care.
The leather jacket she had so studiously observed him walking around in all day follows in the direction of her top, their clothes forming a haphazard pile on her couch.
She loves Elliot in his button-down shirts; they always seem to fit him perfectly along his amazing arms and torso. This one is no exception, and she reaches for the buttons, her fingers trembling slightly as she undoes them one by one.
The eagerness that had overtaken them at the beginning was replaced now with the gravity of the situation. There were so many risks involved with what they were about to do; and it was starting to sink in. But she realised, with the more skin of Elliot's that she exposed, all she had to do was look him in the eyes and she would find confirmation.
It was a new thing they'd discovered existed between them.
Eighteen months ago, they had been involved in a hostage situation where they'd had to go in unwired and separately. All it had taken for them to effectively diffuse the risk of danger had been a number of shared looks.
When they had been asked afterwards by Cragen to explain how they'd managed to get everybody out unharmed; they hadn't had a proper answer. They had simply managed to gauge and correctly guess what the other was thinking by looking into the other's eyes.
It wasn't the sort of thing that you told your Captain or squad. In fact, it wasn't something that they even spoke about between the other; it was the unspoken that made them the best Detectives Cragen had.
So now, she knows that when she finally looks up from the middle of his chest, she'll be able to find, hopefully, the encouragement she needs. But for now, she keeps her eyes down as she undoes the last of the buttons, her hands smoothing up and then separating so the shirt can fall over his shoulders and off.
She leans forward and presses light kisses to his collarbone, starting from the right, and stopping as she reaches the spot above his heart. She can feel it beating underneath her lips, and she closes her eyes as she's suddenly overcome with emotion.
"Liv, look at me." She leans her forehead against his chest and shakes her head.
She wraps her arms around Elliot's lithe waist, her hands holding onto the taut skin of his back, and she just holds him. She's content to just inhale the scent of his heated body and relish the feel of his lips on the crown of her head.
She's never been held like this before; never been comforted so completely by the mere presence of another person. She could get used to this, and she needs to know that this isn't a one time thing.
She knows that anything between them could never really be, but she wants the reassurance.
Elliot's lips move from her head to her ear. "You gotta know Liv. I love you too."
She grins against him and she squeezes him tightly as a way of silently thanking him. He doesn't always know the right thing to say, but when he does it has the ability to make her feel lighter than air.
She kisses his neck and pulls back, her hand cupping his cheek, and she's momentarily floored at how much passion and desire are in his sparkling blue eyes. They're still the most devastating shade of blue; but most importantly, they're filled with the certainty that she had been searching for all along.
And she now knows that whatever happens past tonight; he'll be there right by her side.
Just like always.
She gives him a cheeky smile, stepping around him and in the direction of her bedroom. He stays put, his eyes watching her closely as she moves slowly backwards down the corridor. The corner of his lips quirk as he waits for her to make the next move, and she feels herself begin to throb as she his eyes devour her.
She uses one had to flick the clasp of her bra but she turns before it comes off completely. Catching it in her right hand, she throws it over her shoulder at Elliot. Olivia wants to laugh at his expression of disbelief at her actions, but he takes three long strides and she's in his arms again, his left hand moving straight to her now exposed breast.
"Elliot..."
Her body is thrumming as his tongue works the nipple of the unattended breast. God, he was good at that. Never again would she watch him chew at his pen the same way again.
Nor would she admonish him for doing it; especially if it was practice.
She keeps moving her legs backwards until the backs of her knees finally hit her mattress. Elliot lets her breast go so she can fall onto the bed and get out of the pants that are entirely too suffocating at the moment.
Her fingers nimbly undo the clasp as Elliot gets rid of their shoes and socks. Before she can slip her pants over her hips, Elliot stills her hands, moving them to the side so that he can do it for her. She lifts her hips so that he can pull her jeans and now-soaked panties down her long legs, watching intently as he throws them over his shoulder and into the darkened doorway.
She knew something was missing. They had been too distracted to flip a switch; now the only light at the moment was what was coming from the street and the moon through her window, but it was hitting just the right places.
Including the expression on Elliot's face as he drank her in; watching with wide eyes as they became even darker. Her own roams the wide planes of his chest and she tries to suppress a groan of delight as she imagines him over her and under her.
Hell, all over her.
She quickly shifts herself onto her knees so her head is level with his neck, where she kisses him quickly. Elliot's frustration at the slow pace becomes apparent as his lips are on hers before she can draw a proper breath; his tongue sweeping a wonderful pattern through her mouth. She tilts her head slightly so he can get better access, while she works his jeans and...nothing.
Elliot Stabler wasn't wearing any underwear.
She wrenches her lips from his. "You've been walking around all day like that?"
He gives her a coy smile, his hand brushing her breast as it moves to tangle in her hair. "I like to make my partner's job easier."
Her laughter is cut off again by his eager lips and his advancing body. Somehow, he'd managed to get his jeans the rest of the way off because she can now feel his hard length pressing against the side of her leg. She wraps her hand around it eagerly and giggles as Elliot nips at her bottom lip in response.
"What?" She gives him an impish smile as he looks down at her, his eyes roving her face.
"You're so beautiful Liv." His fingers brush her hair from her forehead gently.
Usually, she would make a smart remark about a guy already getting in her pants, but she truly believed Elliot.
She cups his cheek, her thumb brushing his lips reverently, "I love you so much, Elliot."
Elliot nods, "I know, Liv."
She guides him to her entrance, and with a thrust of her hips she is fully sheathed over his throbbing cock. Her nails claw at his back as his size allows him to hit a spot inside of her that she didn't know existed.
A spot that is obviously not going to allow this to last long.
At all.
"Christ, Olivia, hang on." Elliot tries to slow her down by steadying her hips, but it's too late and she feels her inner muscles clenching at him as she comes.
She tries to catch her breath, her arms holding on tightly as she comes down from her high. This is a completely new experience for her in more than one way; she doesn't think she's ever had an orgasm that soon after penetration. Or otherwise.
And from the look that Elliot's giving her, it hasn't happened to him either.
"Jesus, Elliot." She can only string ideas, not complete sentences, together at the moment.
Olivia pushes her head back into the pillow, as Elliot stills above her, waiting for her okay to continue. Her heart is nearly beating out of her chest, but Elliot's body on hers is the most reassuring thing she's ever experienced in her life.
And try as she might, the conversation she had with Anna not long ago is playing in her mind because now she has Elliot. And he loves her too.
Elliot's lips burn a trail along her left shoulder and she feels hot tears begin to leak from the side of her eyes, the angle of her head allowing them to disappear into her hairline. She prays that he won't notice; that he's too distracted to feel the hitching in her breath.
But she should know Elliot a lot better than that now, because his lips pause mid-kiss and she finds herself face to face with the man she would happily give her life for.
"Olivia."
He uses her full name, each syllable rumbling with his gravelly voice; and his warm breath is now warring with her own.
"What happened last week?"
She shakes her head again, trying to stop a fresh onset of tears. She just wants to forget about using words at the moment and just feel. But as soon as she tries to thrust her hip up into his, Elliot's large hands are stilling her actions again.
"Olivia. If you try that again, I'm pulling out and we talk on opposite sides of the room if we have to," he kisses the tip of her nose, "either way you are going to tell me what the hell is going on here."
She tries to answer, but it gets caught somewhere between her chest and throat. His fingers move from her hips to her face so he can swipe at her tears. He's done that more in the past three hours, than in their entire partnership.
"Anna's best friend died, El."
Elliot nods, his hips moving forward so that her body can pull him into her as far as he'll go. She tries to resist the urge to close her eyes, because Elliot is holding her with the most breath-taking gaze; he's telling her so much at the moment and that thought alone makes her want to hold onto him and never let go.
"He died, Elliot. And she loved him," she hiccoughs slightly, "and she didn't get to tell him because she was too afraid of rejection. In the end, they said nothing and now she's riddled with all this guilt..."
She trails off, holding his head in her hands. She smiles as he kisses her finger that is passing over his lips. He rolls his hips into hers again and she breathes in quickly at the sensation. The muscles of his stomach are clenching where her thighs are resting and she knows that it's killing him to go this slow. But she needs to get it out.
"And I thought, Elliot. Just for a second. What if...what if... Jesus."
He sucks her thumb into his mouth as it passes this time, his teeth nipping at the skin as his hips thrust a little more forcefully.
"What if you died Elliot? What if, before I got the chance to tell you, you died?"
Elliot's eyes close briefly and his head turns to nuzzle into her palm. She feels moisture from what she realises are his own tears leaking against her hand, and her heart clenches painfully. Leaning up, she kisses him soundly on the lips; her tears' mixing with his own as her question hangs over the both of them.
"What would I do Elliot?" She breathes the question around his tongue as his thrusting picks up in pace.
Elliot pushes her thighs open wider, and she feels him slip into her even more, his shaft now rubbing against her clit. Her head is spinning, but she wants to hear his answer.
Her hands rake up and down his back and she moves her lips to his ear. "Tell me."
Elliot's breathing is ragged and she knows that, like her, he's close.
"Liv, I'd be right here," his lips drop to her chest and over her heart; repeating the action she had taken earlier.
His words are like an aphrodisiac because she feels her walls begin to pulse more insistently at them.
His lips continue to brush against the skin as he talks, "I would be here Olivia, just like now," he thrusts once more and she's falling, but his voice is there to catch her. "I'd be inside you."
She closes her eyes and revels both in his promise and in the feeling of his warm release inside of her as she comes again; a loud and persistent moan sounds from deep in her chest, her arms and legs shaking as her body follows Elliot's lead.
Elliot's arms finally give out and he rolls off and to the side; Olivia groans unappreciatively at the loss of contact. But Elliot doesn't go too far, and she huddles into his side so that he can wrap a protective arm and leg over her.
Her room smells like them now, and so do her sheets. She wants everything to smell like them, she realises, because it's the most amazingly arousing aroma.
She lifts her head and uses the palm of her hand to keep it up. "Thank you, El."
Elliot turns to look at her, a smile gracing his face. "I hope you know that it's true Liv."
She nods, her fingers tracing patterns along his chest and abs. "For the record, I'd be inside you too."
His chest vibrates against her hands as he laughs. "You stealing my material, Benson?"
"Well, when it's good, it's good." She grins, raising her eyebrow at the double-meaning.
Elliot simply smiles at her before bringing her head down for a kiss.
God, she can't believe that she's here in her bed with Elliot – a very naked Elliot. Three days ago she was well on the way to ruining the best thing that had ever happened to her. But now, she's finally come to a point in her life where she doesn't have to be so independent; where she can count on more than herself.
But, maybe, it was never like that.
Maybe, Elliot had been there all along and she simply didn't trust herself to take the plunge.
But she knew for certain now, that if she was to fall, Elliot would be there to catch her; because he was her safety-net.
And, in all honesty, she couldn't think of a safer pair of arms.
The End
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Well, that was fun! Wasn't it? Read and Review and let me know if more stories like this are a good idea! Love ya! Laura xoxo