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His hands roam as he kisses her. They brush up her sides and then back again when Olivia flinches at the contact near her ribs. 

“Are you ticklish?” He stops kissing her long enough to ask, grinning when her muscles tense as he repeats the motion.

“No,” she answers, but he can see the smile she’s trying to hide.

“Liar,” he accuses.

He kisses her again and they’re smiling into each other as their hands drag and brush over bodies that are no longer off limits. They’re not rushed about it, but it doesn’t take long before there’s a pile of clothes next to Olivia’s bed.

Elliot hasn’t dreamed about being with a woman since he was a young man. He’s lusted after women, maybe, though even that is something he’s mostly taught himself not to do in the years he’s been married. He notices beautiful women - he’s been married, not blind or dead - but he’s disciplined enough not to let it go farther than that. 

Olivia is the exception. He’s learned by now that she’s always the exception.

He has dreamed of her like this, naked and responsive beneath him as he tweaks the already hardened bud of one nipple and feels her shiver in response. When he sets his lips against her neck she moans and the sound is so delicious that his cock twitches where it’s nestled against her thigh; he drags his lips over the tender skin of her neck, sucking kisses as he goes.

She hasn’t told him to be careful, to not leave a mark, so he sucks a little harder at a spot near her ear. When she still doesn’t protest Elliot decides that he’s going to mark her, that he’s going to leave a reminder for both of them to see later and know that he’s been here. 

That they’ve crossed that last line. 

He hasn’t given a woman a hickey since … Well, maybe never, but when he’s satisfied with his work he makes his way downward and closes his mouth over her taut nipple. Olivia arches off the bed and presses herself further into his mouth, and when one of Elliot’s hands drift over her stomach and down to run calloused fingers over her clit she cries out.

“Fuck!”

Elliot releases her nipple with a soft, wet pop and then blows a delicate breath over it just to tease her before moving on. Her muscles clench beneath the pleasant scrape of his scruff, so he purposely nuzzles his face into the tender skin over her ribs and grins when she gets goosebumps. He drags his lips further down, brushing over her in light kisses until he’s reached his destination at the apex of her thighs.

“Elli - oh!

She doesn’t get a chance to finish saying his name before his tongue slides over her clit in an experimental flick. Elliot hums at the way her breath catches and then does it again, flattening his tongue against the sensitive nub and licking. 

He stretches his arm up the length of her body until he can pinch and roll one of her nipples between his fingers as he works her over with his tongue, and Olivia isn’t quiet as she moans and gasps and lays a hand on the back of his head to encourage him. 

She must be close, he realizes, because Olivia suddenly decides that she’s had enough.

“Come here,” she demands.

She latches onto his arms and pulls, insistent, and then glares at him when his smiling face is once again even with hers. 

“And they say you’re the patient one,” he teases.

“Smug bastard.” She’s smiling when she says it, but there’s a shadow of something uncertain in her voice. Like she can’t believe that they’re really here and this is really happening, and yeah, Elliot understands that.

There will be time for exploration later, he knows, so he takes himself in hand and lines them up, dragging his tip through her wet folds a few times just to listen to the way she catches her breath at the sensation before pushing slowly into her. 

When he’s buried to the hilt, Elliot pauses to take her in. Olivia is beautiful. She’s always been beautiful to him, but she’s almost ethereal now. Her room is mostly dark, but there’s enough light to see the dark cloud of her hair against her pale pillowcase and the sharp line of her jaw, and the pinpoints of light reflected in eyes that are now so dark they’re almost black. 

“El?” 

“You’re beautiful, Olivia.”

She blinks up at him in surprise which seems ridiculous, at first, until it occurs to him that this is the first time he’s ever said those words out loud. 

“Beautiful,” he repeats, and punctuates the word by withdrawing and then thrusting into her. 

Elliot has half a mind to go slow and savor their first time, but Olivia rocks her hips into him and gasps at the pleasure and he can’t think of anything else but this. He has spent years wanting to do this for her, make her feel this way, and now that he’s here his only goal is to make her fall apart. 

“God, El,” she breathes into the space between them, “Harder.”

He hooks an arm under her leg and drives into her harder. The slap of their naked bodies is sinful. “Like that?” 

“Fuck, yes.”

With one hand supporting himself and the other arm holding her leg he can’t touch her like he wants to, but he promises himself that there will be time for that later. He’s close now, closer than she is, and he absolutely will not orgasm before she does. 

“Touch yourself, Liv,” he says. He groans when she does, when her practiced fingers reach down to rub circles over her clit and she groans at the rush of sensations. 

Her orgasm sweeps over her so suddenly that she doesn’t have time to warn him. Her walls tighten around him and flutter as the rest of her body tenses; her hand falls away from her center to grasp tightly at her sheets, but Elliot maintains his pace and lets her ride it out. 

When she opens her eyes again they lock onto him and there’s almost more connection between them in that instant than there is anywhere else. She can see him again, can recognize his features instead of just imagining them, and the surge of love and affection that she feels for him is choking in its intensity. 

Olivia flexes her leg just enough to let him know to let it go. She bends her knees and plants her feet on the bed and rocks her hips up to meet him, stroke for stroke, and runs her hands up and down the length of his strong arms. 

“Come on, El,” she encourages breathlessly. “Cum for me, baby.”

“Fuck, Liv,” he swears. 

He likes that, she realizes, and it makes her grin. She loops an arm around his neck and pulls him down against her until he’s pinning her to the bed and she can push her cheek into his and whisper in his ear. 

“Come on, baby,” she says again. 

Elliot groans; Olivia feels like she’s won something. Somehow, it never occurred to her that Elliot, her big, intimidating partner, might like to be called by a pet name. 

He cums with another groan that sounds a lot like her name, ‘Olivia’ instead of ‘Liv’, and she holds him to her as he rides out the wave of his pleasure. 

They lay together in the quiet dark of her room for long minutes. Olivia runs her hands up and down his sides and over his back in senseless patterns, reveling in the feel of him under her hands and against her bare skin, and listens to his breathing even out. Eventually, Elliot pushes himself up onto his elbows and brings a hand up to brush her hair away from her face with tender fingers. 

“Baby, huh?” She teases.

“Only when it’s you saying it.” He’s smiling, but the intimacy of the admission nearly brings her to tears anyway. “I’m sorry, Liv.”

“For what?”

“For not understanding why you needed some space.”

“Why’d you come back?”

“I tried not to. I went home, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the lights.”

“The lights?” Olivia repeats.

“Yeah, I left them on, and you know how expensive that gets,” he explains, and then he can’t hide his smile when she furrows her brow in disbelief.

“You ass!” Olivia exclaims and smacks him lightly in the arm. 

“I was being considerate!”

They’re laughing when he kisses her. When Elliot finally pulls out of her Olivia feels like she’s glowing she’s so happy and sated, and once he’s on his back she turns and rolls into his side with a sigh. 

“What are we gonna do about work?” Olivia asks eventually.

“We’ll have to disclose at some point.” Elliot wraps his arm around her waist and drops a kiss onto her forehead. “But it doesn’t have to be right now.”

“The longer we hide it the more trouble we’ll be in, El.”

“We’re not hiding it, Liv. We’re just … getting used to it.”

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he says with a smile. 

Olivia hums and kisses the underside of his jaw and then kisses him when he turns his face into her.

“I could get used to this,” she tells him. 

“Me too, Liv.”

They’re quiet for so long that she thinks he’s fallen asleep, but his arm tenses around her when she tries to roll away from him.

“Where you going?”

“I need a shower,” Olivia explains. “I thought you were asleep, but since you aren't, why don’t you come with me.”

The look she gives him makes it clear that getting clean isn’t the only thing on her mind, and Elliot grins as he pulls himself up and out of bed. 

“I might have to call in sick tomorrow,” Elliot muses.

Olivia smirks at him. “Tell Cragen that I must be contagious, and you just can’t see yourself coming in.”

Elliot gapes at her. “Did you … Liv, did you just make a dad joke?”

Her cheeks are pink and he doesn’t know if she’s blushing or the color is leftover from sex, but she’s stunning with her mussed hair and pink cheeks and the almost shy smile she’s giving him - not to mention that she’s still naked and, damn, she has to be the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. 

“Maybe?” 

She squeals - honest to god squeals when he throws his arms around her and lifts her off her feet and smashes his lips to hers. 

Playful, after sex Olivia might just be his new favorite. 

In the shower, Elliot takes his time learning Olivia’s body, tasting and teasing her until the sound of his name bounces off her bathroom walls and she cums against his tongue. 

He only goes to work the next morning because Olivia goes with him.