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Ready. She was more than ready.

She had let him know, loud and clear. Almost as if she could read his mind, his hesitation.

'Elliot, I'm ready.'

The exact events that led them to be making out like teenagers on her couch escape her. Olivia does remember calling Elliot, remembers inviting him over, worried about his damn new pseudo-undercover stint. She recalls the reluctance in his voice, the dull distress that accompanied it. He did not want a repeat of the previous time he had visited her apartment at such an ungodly hour. And his relationship with the Brotherhood was weighing down on him."

She remembers all of that too. It's different now.

'My friend, Elliot...'

Now, here they are and how did they end up in their current predicament? That's the enigma. It's like a chemical reaction occurs each time they are near each other. Feelings that had been much easier to suppress a decade ago, now ignite with a simple look and take over them as soon as if they touch.

Neither care to look much into it. Not right at this second. There are more important things happening right now, more tangible things. More concrete.

Solid.

Hard.

So hard.

Right between her thighs.

All she cares about is that he doesn't stop moving above her, thrusting with increased frenzy even through their clothes.

Five more minutes. Ten tops.

He's hitting the exact spot, a little more and she-

Just.  Don't.  Stop.

His hand is deep inside her oversized t-shirt, the type of shirt she has designated as her "comfy" pajamas. Olivia had foregone her bra the minute she had gotten out of her work clothes and had truly not bothered to put it back on before Elliot had arrived. Not with the large sweater she had on top of that comfy shirt; the same sweater that is now lying on the floor next to the coffee table.

Elliot's groan, when she pulls him impossibly closer to her and her mouth leaves his and latches onto his neck like a starfish, echoes through the quiet living room and it's then her fuzzy mind clears.

Noah.

Noah is asleep in his room, she's becoming hyperaware of that fact.

Elliot's hand cup her left breast and she becomes distracted again. His large, big hand takes as much as it can and fondles her; some of it even escaping his fingers.

Fuck that feels good.

She knows her breasts have gotten bigger as she got older, even more sensitive. She's glad it is him enjoying such perks, the one touching her this way. His thumb circles around and around her nipple as he keeps massaging and jiggling her warm mound.

No.

She can't, she absolutely can't do this in her living room.

She raises her upper body and turns her head to check over the couch, towards the hallway.

The coast is clear.

"What is it?" He asks, breathless. Olivia simply shakes her head and looks over her shoulder again. "C'mere," Elliot grunts sliding his hands over her ass, lifting her and turning them around, with him sitting up against the back of the couch and her straddling him. She now has a perfect view of her kitchen and the entrance to the hallway, she also has his cock pressing even more intimately, insistently against her core and she begins rocking above him in earnest, kissing him just as madly.

"I wanna make you feel so good, baby." He whispers as his lips leave hers. She's moving almost frantically, his hands on her ass helping her along.

They should stop.

"Liv," He asks when he notices her opening her eyes again, lookingg over his shoulder this time. "You are making this very hard."

"I can tell." She smirks, slowing down and punctuating her reply by rocking harder against him. The hungry look that crosses his face is almost enough to make her come. She looks over his shoulder again.

"I- I should go." He sighs, realizing their situation.

Shit, he's right. What was she thinking? What if Noah gets up for a glass of water? He's not stupid. Way to traumatize your child, Benson. Damn. And damn Elliot for being stronger than her.

Her hips haven't stopped moving, she's picking up speed again.

Just two more minutes.

"I thought you wanted to make me feel good," Olivia whispers, her lips brushing his, teasing.

"I do. You have no idea-"

"I thought you were going to work for it." She interrupts.

Think, Benson. Think.

"You're killing me here."

"We could- we could go to my room. The door has a lock." It is only then that they stop their movement, it is then they separate their heated bodies. She takes hold of his hand and leads him to her room, walking backwards, their gazes holding onto one another. Olivia raises her index finger to her lips, pleading with him to be quiet as they walk further inside the apartment.

The bedroom door shuts, the click of the lock sealing them inside what, for now, would be their sweet refuge. There's nothing beyond that door, even if just for a few moments it is only them inside her bedroom. Nothing is holding them back. Not now.

Elliot crowds her against the door. He's still just as hard, if not more when his cock presses against her ass. He discards her shirt and sneaks his arms around her, reaching up to cup her breasts. His fingers dig into her skin, pulling and pinching at her nipples as his mouth pays attention to her neck.

"No hickeys, I said." She barely gets out. She had warned him before. Elliot seems to have a fascination with her neck, or with marking her. She guesses the latter is more accurate.

"I'll buy you a turtleneck. I will buy you several turtlenecks." He whispers, leaving her tits and moving downward. "Off." He orders, fingers gripping the cloth of her leggings. They quickly pool around her feet along with her underwear, and she becomes dizzy when he hastily turns her around and presses her up against the door again. His mouth greedily and eagerly returning to claim hers.

His fingers aren't idle, they travel up to tease her nipples once more and down, searching for where she now drips for him. He doesn't need help finding it. It's been so long, so fucking long. She thinks her heat comes out in waves from her and the moment his fingers touch her folds she cries out, loudly, holding onto his shoulders.

"Shhhh..." She berates a second later, not quite aware such a sound has come from her; she laughs when she realizes, giddy with the intensity of it all, Elliot joins her. It truly is that simple, that easy.

"Get on that window sill." He tells her, smacking her ass playfully and pointing to the windows in the far wall of her bedroom. And fuck she already knows what he's about to do. She could cry from sheer need but it'd kill the mood.

Olivia perches herself on the edge of the window sill, facing opposite the window. Elliot still stands where she left him, contemplating her, staring. Devouring her with his eyes which, she thinks, is a good word considering he begins to move unhurriedly towards her, like an animal stalking its prey, and she wants it. She wants to be devoured.

She's naked, she's absolutely naked leaning on her hands on the narrow surface and he... he isn't. She aims to point out that fact but Elliot kneels in front of her and it hardly matters anymore.

His right-hand cups her cheek and she leans into his caress, his thumb seeks entry to her mouth and she grants it, sucking the large digits deep inside her mouth. His moan rivals hers as she removes his thumb from her mouth, and chooses instead, his pointer and middle finger, moving up and down, both with a single thought in their minds.

He would like to feel that pretty mouth elsewhere.

"So good. Gonna make you feel so good." He promises, breaking their gaze, his tongue tracing an invisible path from the sensitive skin of her neck to the tips of her pebbled nipples. Elliot flicks his tongue over one, then the other, and back again; unable to choose one. They're both parts of her equally round, equally vast, and equally perfect tits. He takes a moment to breathe her in; lowers his face between her mounds, kissing her sternum and cupping one on each hand, just trapping his face in between, breathing long and deep.

Olivia rakes her nails over his head, holding him in place. The warm skin of her tits almost covers his ears, creating a sort of vacuum; he's so near her that he can faintly hear the beating of her heart. For years he wondered, he worried about her; being out on the streets, who watched her back? For 10 years he worried, but he wasn't going to wallow in it. It was his damn fault after all.

He left.

He would stay there all night if he could, but he has more pressing matters to attend to.

"Mhmm," Olivia moans the moment his tongue makes contact with her clit. He licks her folds, from bottom to top, gathering her juices, drinking her in, and latching on her clit when he reaches the top. Over and over again.

Seeking more friction, she begins undulating her hips, practically riding his mouth. He slows down and lets her take the lead. Their eyes connect and she sees how pleased he is, how damn smug; it's too much. Seeing it is Elliot Stabler so intimately pressed against her, it's too much.

She throws her head back, breaking the connection, barely able to hold herself up. With her head backwards she can see out the buildings outside, behind her, upside down. The same building full of apartments, full of people, that face her home, her bedroom window. She wonders if some peeping neighbor can see her. If they can see her naked back and the top curve of her ass, her splayed thighs, and the man that kneels before her, eating her out. Olivia doesn't know anyone in those buildings, if anyone is watching, she hopes they are enjoying the view as much as she's enjoying getting herself.

It thrills her.

'This is how is done, people!!' She wants to shout.

The ringing of a cellphone pulls her from her thoughts. "Is that yours or mine?" She gasps, his mouth doesn't let up and she barely hears him when he replies. "Mine." He confirms though he doesn't make a move to answer it.

Of course it's his Olivia, you know this. Your cellphone is somewhere in the kitchen, where you left it the moment you decided to take Elliot to your room.

"You should get it." She gasps, wanting the noise to end she needs to come, but that damn phone is not helping matters.

"Ignore it." It comes muffled, his tongue deep inside her now, as far as he can reach, moving it in and out. He's fucking her with it and she decides to ignore everything but the man she loves, pleasuring her.

He spreads her legs impossibly open, her feet resting on the edge of the window sill, and her back bending in an awkward angle; Elliot is the only thing holding her lower half from falling. He laps and laps at her, getting his lips, his chin drenched with her juices. His tongue swirls upwards in a zig-zag motion until he reaches her small nub and sucks hard, leaving her with a pop and repeating the motion. 

She's being too loud but it's entirely his fault, he's too good at this. Blindly looking around her, she grabs a small pillow, one that serves no purpose but to look pretty next to her window, but right now it helps her to muffle her climb to extasis as she places it over her face, moaning and crying out on it.

One arm leaves her and she fears for her spine until one, then two fingers penetrate her and that stupid pillow isn't enough. She holds his head tighter and follows his movements, riding out her orgasm and coming harder than she thought possible.

Fuck, it has been too long.

Elliot prolongs her pleasure as much as possible and only stops when it becomes too much and she pushes him away. He soothes her then, kissing his way up her body. Noticing the skin of her breasts now wear the evidence that his stubble grazed her skin.

"Hi." He says, grinning stupidly at her when he finally reaches her mouth. He wears the evidence of her all over his face.

"Hi." She replies, sitting up and smiling just as wide, her arms linking behind his neck. "That was-" Olivia continues, still trying to catch her breath.

"I know." He continues kissing her skin; the hollow of her throat, her jaw, her cheek.

"You were-" She sighs.

"I know."

They both chuckle. "You looked gorgeous" Olivia flushes at his words. The man just made her come with his mouth and fingers, but she flushes at that. "I could feel you coming undone." His mouth claims her again, his tongue entering her mouth, tangling with hers. "Hm, can you taste yourself? Sweeter than honey." She whimpers at his words, remembering also what that tongue just did.

"I wanna be inside you." He desperately adds, cupping her ass and tugging her to the edge of the window sill once more. Elliot tugs on his belt buckle when his cell phone goes off again. "Ignore it." He repeats. "It's probably Frank Donnelly. I- I will call him later."

"Uuh, I don't know Elliot. I think you should answer." Olivia says teasingly. There's mischief in her eyes. He watches her carefully but decides to follow her suggestion. The minute he does, it's her perfect excuse. She scurries away and parades naked around her room in search of her long silk robe. Elliot mumbles a reply into the phone, following her movements with a questioning look.

She ties the fabric around her body and attempts to fix the mess that is now her hair. "What are you doing?" He asks when he ends the call.

"Was that him?" She says, ignoring the question.

"Yeah," He raises himself from the floor and walks towards her. His hands grasp her waist, pulling her to him, fingers toying with the bow holding her robe closed. "We have time." His mouth seeks her neck again, she gives him access because she's weak to the feel of his mouth there.

"He might wonder where you are. He knows your schedule by now." He pulls back, she has got to be fucking with him. She has. She can't think that-  the self-assured smirk he sees on her face tells him how serious she is. She's sending him on his way.

"I was hoping we could-"

"You know," She continues, yawning dramatically. "I'm exhausted. I'm gonna take a shower and go to sleep." She's trying hard not to laugh at the pitiful look on his face. She doesn't want to make him feel bad, she just really meant it when she said she was gonna make him work for it. She's ready, she wants him, but he can wait a little bit more.

"Liv‐"

"The front door is unlocked. I will talk to you later." She says sweetly, kissing and nipping his lips before turning around and heading for the bathroom.

He can't believe it. She's a little minx, he thinks as he makes his way out and towards the elevator, his erection subsiding just a little. Elliot knew this relationship would have to be earned, but this was just downright cruel, he musses chuckling and running a hand across his face. He admires her tenacity. He deserves it, and will gladly go down on her as much as she'll let him; even if it's the only thing he ever does.

A rush of cold hits him as the doors of the lobby open and he helps him clear his head. He will probably take care of things when he gets home, he's not ashamed, the taste of her still lingers on his lips. Her moans and cries will be like his soundtrack.

As he approaches the end of the street, he hears a car horn. He ignores it, not paying attention until it honks two more times. Elliot turns around and sees a car parked a few feet away, blinking his lights at him.

Donnelly.

What is he doing here? Had he followed him? They had already met earlier that night. Is he keeping tabs on him?

Apprehension takes a hold of him, he tries to mask it and think of a game plan as he comes closer to the car.

"Hey!" Elliot greets the other cop, leaning over the window.

"Get in." He simply says. Elliot knows better than to say otherwise. They both sit in silence for a minute before Donnelly speaks again. "We need to go back, something's come up." He ends cryptically.

Elliot nods, instantly agreeing. He'll play nice, for now. He has mixed feelings about the man, but he knows how dangerous he is. How unhinged.

"So," Frank begins. "What are you doing in this neighborhood? Thought you were gonna go home." 

Elliot whips his head around, looking at him, caught off guard at the sudden line of questioning. "What are you, my father? Funny enough I was gonna ask you the same question."

Donnelly stares back, "This is a nice part of town." He muses, looking throw the windshield. "Captain Benson lives here. Yeah... That's her apartment building back there, isn't it?"

Elliot doesn't answer, he isn't sure what the other man knows, but any slip up could bring the whole thing down. Put him and her at risk.

"Hm, you been fucking her for long?" He asks without next, out-of-blue. "You never mentioned it, and it could become a problem."

"We were partners..." Elliot tries. It's a lame excuse, he knows.

"Were. That's the key word. You're making it hard to trust you, man." Frank finish before turning on the car and putting them back on the streets.

Elliot Stabler's world is shaken once more what he holds most dear might be at stake.