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She Hung the Moon

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I’m gonna let you. 

 

Would she really though? 

 

Could she? 

 

There was something in the tone of his voice that made her want to give it a try. Place her sword down and welcome him into her space. Olivia Benson has spent so long with her sword drawn, that she sometimes forgets it’s suspended in air, awaiting anyone who gets too close to her.

 

But Elliot is different. He’s always been different. He’s Elliot. He’s only Elliot. Those are her justifications. Her excuse for letting him past barrier one, which is ultimately how he scratches past others that no one has ever been able to. 

 

The taste of her skin against his lips, he would like to tell her, is his favorite. A new favorite. Elliot remains quiet though, and the moment his mouth latches onto her breast, he feels her arch against him. Her cheek leaves its resting position against the top of his head and she looks down at him to watch the way his mouth works against her. Olivia’s head falls back the moment she feels his tongue swirl around her nipple, and a exaggerant gasp leaves her. 

 

Elliot.” Comes out in a hiss. 

 

That was the catalyst. His invitation to take control over the situation completely. Because he reaches with both hands, places them on her hips, and turns her over in one fluid motion until she comes crashing down onto the bed next to where he was sitting. Where she was standing. Elliot moves on top of her like wind, wasting no time to move from one breast to the other. And although she’s caught off guard by the sudden fall into her mattress, her hands immediately come to the back of his head to rest. To keep him in place, and let him know don’t stop. 

 

“That’s good.” She whispers, feeling her body take on a mind of its own as she arches against him yet again. Realization creeps in that maybe it was a smart move to lay her down so fast because the instant Olivia feels Elliot bite gently on her, her legs begin to tingle. Tingling turns into numbness, and she knows she wouldn’t have been able to stand on her own like she was just moments before. Any sound that wanted to leave her, is dulled out. Caught in her throat. Blue eyes peer up to see that her head is buried into the mattress and her chin protrudes up far enough so that Elliot can’t really see her face. Elliot’s hands begin to slide down her body, taking his time to feel every part of her as he takes her in with his fingertips; As he takes her in with his palms. 

 

Oh.” Olivia moans when she feels his hand move in between her legs. He hasn’t even touched her yet, but she knows, somewhere in the state that she’s in, that he’s going to just based on the placement of his hand. 

 

Elliot’s mouth releases her hardened peak, leaving a wet splotch behind. “Is this what you need?” He asks, his voice raspy – almost cocky. No, definitely cocky. “Do you need my fingers?” His breathing is all over the place and frankly, what she would really like to tell him is to take off his navy briefs and bury himself deep inside her. But she knows it won’t last that way. She wants her first time with him to last.

 

Please.” 

 

Elliot wants nothing more than to give her what she wants. What she needs. Her first response to his fingers is a jolt forward and an ungodly sound that leaves her in a cry. He takes his time exploring her. His fingertips graze against her sensitive, swollen clit. The length of his fingers spread her so that he can lap at the arousal that resides there for him. But when he tastes her for the first time, well, that’s enough to send her running up the bed. Olivia’s legs fall open, bent, with her feet flattened and toes dug into the mattress. 

 

“You’re gonna fall off, come back .” Olivia hears him say, and feels him tug her back down towards him by her thighs. He’s a strong man. She already knew that. But the way that he brought her back down to his mouth, and essentially saved her from hanging off the edge of the bed is oddly a turn on. 

 

The room is quiet, apart from the soft cries and whimpers Olivia makes every time his mouth sucks and kisses against the right spot. If she quietens herself just enough, she can hear his mouth against her heat, and maybe even the soft hums that come from Elliot. “ Mmmm …” She hears, and only then does she find the strength to prop herself up on her elbows so she can watch him. Olivia lifts her hips and girates them against his mouth. 



El …” She pants. 



At first it doesn’t seem like a beckon to him. It feels like more of what she’s been doing for the past five, ten minutes, which is making sounds of approval. But she says it again –

 

El …” Olivia’s voice grows firmer, and her hips come to a stop. 

 

Elliot pulls away, licking his lips as he does. 

 

“Come here.” Olivia wiggles her finger at him, and Elliot unlinks his arms from underneath her thighs so he can crawl up to meet her. She leans up just a bit further to wrap an arm around his neck and press her lips to his in a deep, searing kiss. 

 

“I wanna come with you.” Olivia breaks away long enough to whisper – no to gasp against his lips. “Want these off …” She begins pushing down his navy underwear, which by the time he brings his hands down to help her, they’re already hanging halfway down off his ass. She draws her legs up far enough so that she starts pushing them down with her toes, and somehow, it works. Elliot brings them down the rest of the way, and pushes them off at the ankle. They don’t land on the floor, but instead, become lost in the bed somewhere. It’ll be fun finding them in the morning because if either of them have anything to say about it, by the time they’re done this bed is going to be an absolute mess. 

 

“I’ve never had a woman stop me from going down on them.” Elliot teases, placing soft pecks against her lips. Olivia can still taste herself on him. On his lips, on his tongue. She groans against Elliot’s lips at his words and halts their kiss, then brings her hand up to his mouth to place her palm over it, silencing him. Blue eyes stare down at her widened as if to say what? 

 

“I don’t want to hear about what you do with other women. Don’t ruin it.” She snorts, rolling her eyes. 

 

“There’s no other woman, I was just saying …” Elliot’s voice is muffled against her hand, but she hears him. 

 

Elliot. Kiss me. Stop talking.” Olivia cracks a slight grin. She feels Elliot smile against her palm, and playfully, he begins peppering the inside of it with kisses. She giggles and moves her hand away from his mouth.

 

“Plus …” Olivia whispers against his lips. “Did it ever occur to you …” Another kiss. “That maybe when I come …” Another. “That I want to see Your face.” She repeats his words from earlier back at him, and can feel him smile against her lips. A silence falls between them as he pulls away from her to just look at her. That’s all. Stare into her eyes, which are squinted and sparkling up at him. “I wanna be close to you …” She runs her fingers down the side of his face, trails them over the side of his neck, his shoulders, until it disappears in between their bodies. Elliot can’t get a word out after that because he feels her wrap her hand around him. 

 

“Shit …” Elliot grunts. 

 

“You’re so hard.” Olivia tucks her bottom lip into her mouth. Elliot nods quickly and thrusts once into her hand. She wants him to tell her that he needs her like she needs him. It’s obvious, almost as if she’s waiting. She runs her thumb over his wet tip, and begins stroking, which incites a soft groan from him. 

 

Liv …” 

 

“The drawer.” Olivia points, “It’s in the top drawer.” Is all she says and releases his length from her hand. Elliot moves away from her and crawls to the bedside table. Admittedly, he doesn’t even know what he’s going in for. She could be having him fetch a condom. Toys? No. They’re not there yet. But when he pulls the drawer out and sees a small blue bottle of lubrication, he decides that must be what she wanted him to grab. Elliot grabs it, pushes the drawer closed and sits up on his knees. When he turns back around, he sees that Olivia has moved to lay on her pillow, and is waiting there for him – with brown eyes looking up and down the frame of his body and quite the mischievous grin on her face. 

 

They’re about to do this. They’re about to really do this. Elliot licks his lips and flips the cap open on the bottle, where he crawls back over to her. She immediately opens her legs for him, bending them up as far as she can without lifting them in the air. Elliot prepares for her by squeezing the gel-like substance on himself. She lies there watching him, waiting for him to have her. 

 

The slyness of his grin should tell Olivia everything she needs to know. He’s excited. Thinking about the moment. The moment that he’ll finally be buried without inhibition. It’s a natural instinct with her. Something he’s thought about before, and so that now the opportunity is finally here, he doesn’t understand why he wasted so much time. He hopes she feels the same way. That she’s not nervous about ruining anything with him – what they’ve built so far. But he’s hoping she's anticipating this, moving them forward, rather than backwards. 

 

“You gonna just stare down at me all night, Detective?” Olivia teases, bringing her arms up over her head. 

 

“I’m just looking at you.” Elliot’s voice is soft.

 

I know you are.” Olivia sings. “And?” 

 

“And?” Elliot laughs. 

 

“Come here …” Olivia whispers to him once again, and even wiggles her finger like before. 

 

Just because of how close they are already, when he hovers down over her, she feels him against her entrance, gliding up and down – which causes her to release a soft shutter against his lips the instant they graze against hers. Olivia drags her heels up the back of his calves, and runs her hands flattened against his lower back. 

 

“I need you.” Olivia’s words leave her in the same whispery tone she’s used for most of their time in her bedroom together. What he says next, perhaps excites her more than anything throughout the entire night. Because this is about so much more than the physical, clearly, or they would already be on round five. 

 

“I need you.” Elliot repeats her words back to him. Maybe that’s what she’s been waiting to hear. It is. She draws her legs into the air and presses the back of her heel against his ass just enough to give him a push, and as she does, he reaches down and guides himself into her. Eyes widen and gasps incite. She watches his jaw clench as he takes her, a little at a time, until there’s nowhere else for him to go. Until skin is pressed against skin. Until she can feel every single inch of him.

 

Shit …” Elliot’s voice trembles, and for a moment, he buries his face in the pillow beside her head. “ Mm  …” Is all she can get out, and her reaction, which seems out of her control is to arch and thrust her hips down against him; And when she does, he lets go of the lowest, most erotic moan she’s heard from him all night. “Does that feel good? God you feel good.” Olivia whispers against his ear. Their breathing is all over the place, and some higher power may want to step in once they really get started because they may just knock the breath out of one another. 

 

You feel so good.” His voice is muffled from the pillow, but she hears him clearly.

 

“Move for me. Take me. ” She entices, running her finger up along the base of his spine, up and down, almost like she’s running her hand through water, creating tides. Those tides are coming, she’s sure. The ones that thrash and beat against one another under the moonlight. He surprises her in his sudden movement, which is a quick thrust forward. She gasps out a mix of what sounds like his name and oh. His hands move down her body, until they come to stop at her hips and she draws her legs further into the air, which somehow allows him to sink just a little deeper into her. Elliot begins moving, rocking against her quickly and that alone is enough to earn him another loud cry from her. His movement, matched with each sound he elicits from her, dances together. The rhythm of his hips and the sound of her voice sync perfectly. 

 

They begin to roll, spin together in her bed. Her on top of him, rocking until she becomes tired enough for him to roll them back over so he’s in control. They take turns, coaxing pleasure out of each other a little at a time. They’re slick against each other, so much so that his lower stomach is actually wet. The insides of her thighs are the same, drenched in them and what they’ve created together. 

 

Turn over, baby.” She hears him say, and she does. There’s not much that she wouldn’t do for him tonight. She rolls without any question onto her stomach and when he reenters her again, she reaches for the pillows at her sides, and clutches onto them in a death grip. She may die, she’s decided. But he’ll go with her, and she’s never been so convinced as she is at that moment.

 

The headboard knocks rough against the wall as he does exactly what she told him to do when they first began. Take her. Elliot reaches forward with his hand, as he straddles her thighs, and moves the long honey locks away from her face. He leans down just enough to press his mouth to her ear to tell her things only meant for her to hear. How good she feels. How long he’s been waiting for it. How often he thinks about burying himself inside her like this. How he can’t wait to feel her come around him.

Gonna come …” She whimpers, digging her knees into the mattress. “Oh, God I’m gonna come!” She warns as her vision becomes blackened, and specks of light take over. But he’s out of her suddenly, pulled from her depths in an ambitious rage to turn her back over and do exactly what they’ve both told each other they wanted. To see one another’s face when they make each other come. He slides back inside her with an ease that could only ever make him think they were made to be joined. They’re molded for each other, every vein, curve, and velvet wall. He’ll tell her later, when they’re finished. After they see stars and roll over tides. 

 

“Hands …” Elliot grunts, reaching for her hands, which she automatically gives to him. He laces his fingers in with hers and holds them above her head, pinning her there. “Come with me … come with me.” He eggs her on and that’s it – he feels the first rush hit her because she bucks her hips up off the bed and holds firm against his. As soon as she clenches around him he lets go, releasing into her with a “ Uhhh …”. 

 

Elliot …” 

 

“God, Liv …”

 

He collapses on top of her, jerking his hips once more against her. She has one leg locked around his hip. Their hands are still intertwined, holding onto each other so tightly that they’re red. She wonders if she’ll be able to make a fist in the morning because of how hard he squeezed her hands. She doesn’t even realize there’s nail prints surrounding his knuckles. 

 

“I …” Olivia uses her free leg, the one that isn’t holding him into place, to rub up and down the side of his thigh. “I love you.” It’s faint. But it’s enough for him to raise his head from her neck and kiss her lips. 

 

“Let me stay?” Elliot asks, satisfied blue eyes locked on brown ones. “Wasn’t going to ask you to leave …” She’s on the verge of yawning. Elliot releases her hands, and in an effort to bring back feeling, she moves her fingers around. He reaches to stroke some damp hair away from her head, but bits that are stuck to her forehead won’t budge. He lowers his lips onto hers yet again, for what he knows is far from the last time that night. Or morning. Or ever. 

 

“Love you …” Elliot whispers, the bulb of his nose nuzzling against hers. From his line of vision, he can only see her cheeks rise with a slightness, indicating to him that she’s smiling. 

 

“Turn the light off …” Her voice is pure gravel. Tired. Exhausted. 

 

Elliot scoots onto his knees first before pulling himself from between her legs. He reaches for the bedside table and switches the lamp off, and once again, the room is dark. He can’t see her in entirety, but he can see her silhouette lying there, still sweaty and reddish. She’s rubbing her thighs together, as much as he can tell. He lies down in the space that, unbeknownst to him, will become his spot when he sleeps over and Olivia rolls over and tosses a leg across his hip. They don’t bother covering themselves. It’s hot tonight anyway. 

 

His fingers reach for her thigh, the one tossed across his hip, and he begins drawing patterns on the skin there. Soon, her breathing steadies and he realizes she’s fallen asleep, with her face half tucked into his chest. Elliot continues his drawings on her skin. Circles. Lines. His eyes fall down to the night light that now shines bright against the wall. 

 

The crescent shape of it, which he hadn’t noticed before, casts upon the wall and hangs there for her. The woman he loves, who is afraid of the dark. The woman who hung the moon for herself, so that he can see the stars.