Treacherous - BensonBabe1999 - Law & Order: SVU [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Chapter Text

Detective Olivia Benson was more than just a formidable detective; she was a figure of strength and empathy in the Special Victims Unit. Her world, however, was about to shift on its axis in a way she had long dreamed. But at what costs?

The soulmate mark is a tattoo-like symbol that would appear anywhere on your body on your sixteenth birthday. It is a unique sign that identifies two people as meant for each other, soulmates.

Olivia Benson's was a delicate lotus, etched gracefully on her wrist, its petals unfolding in deep blue and soft purple hues. She first noticed it on her sixteenth birthday. Years passed, and Olivia was drawn to the symbol's serene beauty, often tracing its lines absentmindedly during quiet moments. As she glanced at her wrist, weary and emotionally drained, the lotus seemed to shimmer, catching her attention in a way it hadn't done before.

Their victim, Stefan Tanzic, a Serbian soldier convicted of ethnic cleansing, had been stabbed and castrated. SVU’s prime suspect worked at none other than Stabler Enterprises, which Elliot Stabler, a high-profile architect billionaire with a mysterious and controversial personal life, owned.

After several phone calls, Mr. Stabler had agreed to questioning regarding the case and his employee. Olivia and Brian Cassidy, her partner, were tasked by Captain Cragen to attend the meeting.

Olivia was intrigued. Despite the shadows and rumors that seemed to follow Mr. Stabler, she couldn't help but be drawn to the complexity of his character.

Olivia and Brian arrived at Mr. Stabler's opulent office, her heart pounding with curiosity and trepidation. The sleek, modern decor of Stabler Enterprises mirrored the man himself—cold, efficient, yet undeniably captivating.

As they waited, Olivia quietly assessed her surroundings. The pristine furniture and the sleek, modern architecture of Stabler’s office gave her a glimpse into the man’s mind. She mentally prepared herself for the upcoming meeting, her mind racing with questions about the case and the enigmatic billionaire who was their suspect’s boss.

Brian glanced at Olivia; his jealousy hidden beneath a veneer of calm detachment. He was silently fuming, yet he knew better than to let his emotions show.

Olivia felt Brian's gaze on her, but she didn't acknowledge it. Her focus was on the task at hand, not Brian’s emotional state. Their strained sexual relationship only heightened the tension in the room.

Brian clenched his jaw, struggling not to show his jealousy. He had been trying to deepen his relationship with Olivia for months, but it seemed like every step forward was matched with two steps back.

Seeing her in the opulent surroundings of Stabler's office, he couldn't help but feel outclassed and unworthy. “What is it with you and this guy, Liv?”

Olivia glanced at Brian, her expression calm and composed. She understood his jealousy but wasn't about to entertain his insecurities.

"It's business, Brian. He owns the company of our prime suspect," she replied, her voice businesslike. "We're here to do our job, nothing more."

Brian wasn’t satisfied with her answer. He crossed his arms, his jealousy seeping into his words. “Sure, it's just business… with a billionaire playboy known for his charming demeanor and irresistible bedroom voice."

Olivia raised an eyebrow at his comment, her irritation growing. "Stabler’s personal life is none of our concern,” she snapped. "We're here to question him about a suspect and his company, not his bedroom activities."

The receptionist, who had overheard their heated exchange, looked up from her desk with an arched eyebrow. She had been quietly observing the growing tension between Olivia and Brian.

"Mr. Stabler will see you now," she announced, her voice professional but with a hint of curiosity.

Olivia let out a quiet sigh, glad for the interruption. She nodded at the receptionist and followed her lead. Brian trailed behind her, his jealousy still burning inside but now mixed with a pang of embarrassment.

They were led down a hallway and through a pair of glass doors into a spacious, modern office. The room was tastefully appointed with a mixture of contemporary and classic furniture. Mr. Stabler himself was standing by the window, his back to them, as he gazed out at the city below.

"Come in," he said without turning around. His voice, as Brian had quipped, was indeed charming and smooth. The sound sent a strange shiver down Olivia’s spine, momentarily distracting her.

Olivia and Brian shared a quick glance before they entered the office. Despite her best efforts, Olivia couldn't deny that Mr. Stabler’s voice held a certain allure. She shook her head, mentally berating herself.

Mr. Stabler turned around, their presence finally catching his attention. He looked at them with a hint of curiosity in his eyes as if he had been expecting her alone.

Elliot greeted her with a firm handshake, his intense blue eyes locking onto hers. "Detective Benson, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Olivia returned the greeting, his firm grip sending a jolt of electricity through her body. “Likewise, Mr. Stabler," she replied, her voice steady despite the undercurrent of tension.

Brian watched the interaction with a mix of jealousy and suspicion. He noticed the way Mr. Stabler's eyes lingered on Olivia, and it did not sit well with him.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Mr. Stabler,” she began, her professional tone hiding the intrigue she felt toward the man before her.

Elliot’s eyes twinkled with a hint of amusem*nt. “Please, call me Elliot. And it’s my pleasure to assist the NYPD in any way I can.”

He gestured towards the two leather chairs in front of his desk, his gaze still trained on Olivia.

"Have a seat."

Olivia settled into one of the leather chairs opposite Elliot Stabler’s expansive mahogany desk, her professional demeanor faltering slightly under the intensity of Elliot's gaze. The office was a testament to his success, filled with sleek, modern furniture and abstract art pieces. She took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts.

She could feel Brian's jealous eyes on her, but she kept her focus on the task at hand.

Brian gritted his teeth and took his seat, his jealousy now fully apparent.

Elliot's eyes flicked to Brian, taking in his obvious jealousy. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he turned his attention back to Olivia.

"So," he began, his voice still smooth and controlled. "What questions do you have for me?”

Olivia leaned forward slightly, her demeanor shifting into her more professional mode. “We're investigating a case, and one of your employees is a person of interest. Can you provide us with any information that could be relevant?"

Brian stayed silent, his gaze shifting between Olivia and Elliot, silently seething with jealousy.

Elliot leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers in front of him. His eyes never left Olivia, as if he were studying her every move.

"Of course," he said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "I assume the employee in question is Marta Stevens?”

Olivia nodded, her eyes scanning Elliot's features for any signs of deception. Her heart rate quickened slightly as his intense gaze never wavered from her.

"Yes, that's correct," she replied.

"Marta has been with the company for about three years now," he explained. "She's a dedicated worker, no complaints."

Brian leaned forward; his jealousy still present but now mixed with curiosity. Even he had to admit that something was captivating about how Elliot spoke and carried himself.

Olivia jotted down some notes, her hand slightly trembling as she felt Elliot's gaze on her. She mentally scolded herself for letting his presence rattle her.

Brian spoke up, unable to hold back his jealousy any longer.

"And your personal relationship with Mrs. Stevens?" he asked, his tone edged with suspicion.

Elliot shifted his gaze towards Brian, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could sense the other man's jealousy, but he chose to address his question directly.

"Mrs. Stevens and I have a professional relationship," he replied, his tone icy. "My company prides itself on merit and hard work. Personal relationships are not a matter for the office."

Olivia shot a warning glance at Brian, silently urging him to keep his emotions in check.

Brian bristled at the cold tone of Elliot's response, but he quickly reigned himself in. He knew better than to let his jealousy get the better of him, especially in front of Olivia and their prime suspect.

Olivia spoke up, her voice betraying no hint of the tension between Brian and Elliot.

"Have you noticed any changes in Mrs. Stevens' behavior recently?"

Elliot turned his gaze back to Olivia, his expression softening slightly.

"No, I can't say I have," he answered, his voice a smooth blend of confidence and control. "Marta has been her usual efficient and hardworking self."

Brian leaned back in his chair, his jealousy still simmering beneath the surface. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Elliot's interest in Olivia than just simple curiosity.

Olivia nodded, making a note in her notebook. She was torn between her professional duties and her strange pull towards Elliot's intense gaze and commanding presence.

"What about her personal life?" she inquired. "Any changes or unusual behavior there?"

Elliot leaned forward, his eyes never leaving Olivia's face.

"She keeps her personal life private," he replied, his voice taking on a tinge of protectiveness. "I don't make it a practice to pry into my employees' lives outside of work."

Brian huffed in frustration, his jealousy once again flaring.

Olivia nodded, respecting Elliot’s stance on privacy. “Understandable,” she agreed.

Brian, however, couldn’t contain himself any longer. “And what about your personal life, Mr. Stabler?” he asked, his tone dripping with thinly veiled envy.

Elliot turned his gaze towards Brian, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare. He didn’t take kindly to being questioned about his personal life, especially by someone who harbored jealousy and suspicion.

"My personal life is just that - personal," he replied, his voice sharp and firm. "It has nothing to do with your investigation, nor is it any of your business."

Olivia shot a warning glance towards Brian, silently telling him to back down.

She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Elliot than met the eye. His answers were polished, almost rehearsed, but there was a depth to his gaze that suggested hidden layers.

“Your background is quite diverse, Elliot. Can you tell me more about that?” she asked, hoping to peel back some of his enigmatic exterior.

Elliot's expression softened slightly as he turned his gaze back to Olivia. Her question seemed genuine, and he was willing to indulge her interest. He leaned back in his chair again, his voice losing some of its stern edge.

His gaze never leaving hers. “Passion, Detective Benson. I believe in pursuing one’s desires with unwavering dedication. Whether it’s in business or… other areas of life.”

Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine as Elliot spoke. Now softer and almost seductive, his voice sent a jolt of electricity through her. She pushed down the strange sensation, mentally scolding herself for reacting like a schoolgirl.

Olivia’s pulse quickened, “And these ‘other areas,’ how do you balance those interests with such a demanding career?”

Elliot smiled, recognizing the effect he had on Olivia. He couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“Balance is the key,” he replied, his voice smooth and controlled. “I believe in setting clear boundaries between my professional life and personal desires. It’s all about prioritizing and allocating time and energy accordingly. Wouldn't you agree, Olivia?”

The sound of Elliot saying her first name sent another shiver down Olivia's spine. She took a deep breath, trying to collect herself. She couldn't deny his effect on her, but she refused to let it cloud her judgment.

"Yes, I agree," she said, her voice steady despite her inner turmoil. "But maintaining that balance can be difficult, especially when personal desires become… all-consuming."

Elliot leaned forward again, his intense gaze boring into hers. He was almost predatory in his demeanor, his eyes searching hers for a glimpse of vulnerability.

"All-consuming," he echoed, the word dripping from his lips. "Yes, when desire becomes all-consuming, resisting can be difficult. Passion can be a powerful motivator but can also complicate things.”

Olivia fought to maintain her composure under Elliot's intense gaze and smooth voice. She clenched her fists in her lap, silently chastising herself for letting him get to her.

Brian, on the other hand, had grown even more envious. He was used to having Olivia's full attention, and the fact that she was so clearly affected by Elliot's presence was eating away at him.

Elliot leaned back in his chair, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes as he noticed Brian's obvious jealousy. He relished the power he had over them both, but he focused his attention back on Olivia.

“Passion, when channeled correctly, can lead to great things," he continued, his voice growing more persuasive. "You know something about that, don't you, Olivia?"

Olivia felt a pang in her chest as Elliot's words struck a chord with her. He seemed to have a knack for seeing through her tough exterior to the passionate detective underneath.

She swallowed; her voice slightly hoarse as she responded. “Yes, I do. But it can also lead to great pain.”

Elliot nodded, his gaze softening momentarily as he took in the weight of her words. “Yes, it can,” he agreed. “But it’s a risk worth taking, don’t you think?”

Brian, still seething, couldn’t help but chime in. “Not if it clouds your judgment and compromises your job,” he retorted, his tone sharp.

Olivia shot Brian a warning glance, silently telling him to keep his temper in check. She turned back to Elliot, her demeanor regaining its professional air.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Stabler," she said, her voice steady. "We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."

Elliot smiled, though there was a hint of disappointment in his eyes as he watched them prepare to leave. He rose from his chair, his tall stature dominating the room.

"Of course, Detective Benson," he replied, his voice still smooth and controlled. “Here, take my card.”

As Elliot handed Olivia his business card, he saw her soulmate mark, identical to the lotus mark on his forearm, its hue perfectly matching hers.

He was briefly taken aback before he leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, intimate tone. "If you have any further questions or need more… assistance," he said, his gaze holding hers for a moment too long, "Please feel free to call me personally."

Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine as Elliot spoke, his voice a low rumble that sent a jolt of electricity straight to her core. She accepted the card, her fingers brushing against his in a way that felt entirely too intimate.

She could feel Brian's eyes on her, but she ignored him for the moment, her attention entirely focused on Elliot's intense gaze as she breathed, “Elliot…”

As Olivia breathed his name, Elliot found himself drawn even further into her. Something about her spoke to him on a deep, primal level. He wanted to reach out, pull her close, and see how far her passion went.

Instead, he held himself back, settling for a final, intense look. "Olivia…," he said, his voice gruff with suppressed desire.

Olivia swallowed, the sound of her name spoken in Elliot's dark, gruff tone causing a flutter in her stomach. She could feel the heat simmering between them, an electrifying and terrifying tension.

Olivia managed to tear her gaze away from Elliot, forcing herself to follow Brian out of the room. She clutched the business card tightly in her hand, feeling the weight of Elliot’s intense gaze on her back as she left.

Brian, for his part, was seething with jealousy. He had seen the spark between Olivia and Elliot, and it only fueled his feelings of envy.

Brian couldn't hold his tongue any longer as they stepped into the corridor.

“What the hell was that?” he hissed, rounding on Olivia the moment Elliot’s door had shut. “You were two seconds away from letting him bend you over his desk!”

Olivia felt a pang of frustration at Brian’s jealousy and accusations.

“Brian, I was doing my job,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “We needed information from him, and he provided it. End of story.”

Brian snorted, clearly not convinced. “Right”

He continued his tirade, and the jealousy in his voice was evident. “And that ‘call me anytime’ bullsh*t. I’m not stupid, Olivia. He was hitting on you, and you were damn near drooling over him.”

Olivia bristled at Brian's words, her patience starting to wear thin.

"Just drop it, Bri," she retorted, her voice sharp.

Brian ignored her warning, continuing to press his point. "No, I won't drop it," he retorted. "We're partners, Olivia. We're supposed to be in a relationship.”

Olivia let out a frustrated sigh, her patience reaching its limit.

"We are partners on the job, Brian. And our ‘relationship’ has always and will always be just sex. And that means you don't get to dictate my interactions with other people," she shot back. "Especially in the middle of an investigation."

Brian flinched at Olivia's blunt honesty. The truth stung, and he knew she was right.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Yeah, I know. ‘Just sex,’" he muttered, his voice tinged with a hint of hurt. “But that doesn’t keep me from wanting more. It sure as hell doesn't stop me from getting jealous when I see another man hitting on you."

Olivia softened at his words. She understood his jealousy, but that didn't mean she could change who she was or how she felt.

"Brian, I care about you, I do," she said, her voice softer now. “But I can’t promise you anything more than what we have. I’m all in for my job, which means I am not available for anything serious."

Brian's shoulders sagged, the fight seemingly going out of him. He knew she was right. He had been kidding himself, thinking they could ever be something more.

He ran a hand through his hair, his voice weary. "I know. But it doesn't make it any easier, Olivia. Especially when we work together every day.”

Olivia stepped towards him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I know it's tough, Brian," she said, her voice gentle. "But we've managed to make it work so far. We just need to keep communication open and respect each other's boundaries. Can you do that?"

Brian took a deep breath, collecting himself.

"Yeah, I can do that."

Olivia smiled, gently squeezing his shoulder before letting her hand drop.

"Good," she replied, her voice firming up again. "Now, can we get back to the case, please? We've got a lot of evidence to sift through at the station."

Brian forced a smile back, nodding.

“Yeah, sure. Lead the way, partner.”

Later that evening ...

Olivia sat on her couch; her mind still preoccupied with the day's events. She had spent the last few hours pouring over case files, but her thoughts kept returning to Elliot Stabler.

She found herself staring at his business card – a stark reminder of the intense presence he exuded. She had been trying to keep her mind on work, but for some reason, she couldn’t quite shake off the lingering feeling of his dark, gruff voice and intense gaze.

She took a deep breath, trying to shake the thought from her head.

“Get a grip, Benson,” she muttered to herself. “He’s just a guy.”

But even as she said the words, she couldn’t deny his effect on her. It was unsettling and a little bit thrilling.

Olivia tossed the business card on the coffee table and tried to refocus on her work. But the image of Elliot's intense gaze kept nagging at the back of her mind.

Olivia let out a frustrated sigh, realizing that she wouldn’t get any more work done tonight. She put away her files and took a moment to relax in front of the TV. As she settled back into the couch, her gaze landed on Elliot’s business card once again.

Without even thinking, she reached for her phone and found herself dialing his number.

The phone rang a few times, and Olivia wondered if Elliot would even answer. Maybe he was out already, indulging in the ‘desires’ he’d mentioned earlier.

But then, just as she was about to hang up, the line connected.

“Olivia.”

His low and warm voice immediately sent a shiver down her spine.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat when she heard his voice. For a moment, she was speechless, her name on his lips sending a wave of heat through her.

“Elliot,” she managed to reply, her voice coming out slightly breathless.

There was a pause on the line, and Olivia could practically feel the tension crackling through the phone.

“I wasn’t expecting to hear from you so soon,” Elliot said, his tone slightly teasing. “But I’m glad you called."

Olivia felt a flutter in her stomach at his words, her cheeks flushing slightly. She had called impulsively, her mind still filled with thoughts of him.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said, her voice regaining some of its usual steadiness. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Elliot replied, his voice still low and seductive. “What do you need to ask?”

Olivia took a deep breath, steadying herself against his voice's effect on her.

“I was wondering...about something you said earlier,” she began, her finger tracing an absentminded pattern on the couch cushions. “About your 'desires'."

There was a brief pause on the line, and Olivia could almost picture Elliot raising an eyebrow in mild surprise.

“My desires?” he echoed; his voice huskier now.

Olivia could feel her cheeks heat up, but she pushed through her embarrassment.

“Yes, you said you ‘indulged in your desires.’ I was just...curious,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Curiosity can be a dangerous thing, Detective,” Elliot replied, his tone laced with a hint of teasing.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound making Olivia's heart race even faster.

Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his laugh. She knew she was playing with fire by asking, but she couldn’t help herself.

“I can handle danger,” she retorted, her voice whisper soft.

“I’m sure you can,” Elliot replied, his voice taking on an almost dangerous edge.

He paused momentarily, the silence on the line making Olivia anxiously squirm.

“Why don't you let me take you to dinner tomorrow night? We can discuss it then.”

Olivia's breath caught in her throat at the invitation. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

“D-dinner?” she echoed, her voice a little shaky. The idea of sharing a meal with him suddenly seemed both exciting and scary as hell.

“Yes, dinner,” Elliot confirmed, his voice smooth and sure.

He could tell he was making her nervous, and a part of him was enjoying it.

“I'll send a car to pick you up at 8.”

Olivia's mind was suddenly racing. A thousand thoughts clamored for attention. The case, Brian, her job..., but all were being overpowered by the thought of having dinner with Elliot Stabler.

“Elliot…,” she managed to say, her voice faintly trembling.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night, Olivia,” Elliot said, his tone final. It was clear that this was not a negotiation – once he set his mind to something, he pursued it with single-minded determination.

With that, he hung up, leaving Olivia sitting there, her head reeling and her heart racing. She had just set herself up for an evening with Elliot Stabler – and damn if she didn’t feel excited.

Olivia sat on the couch for several minutes, her mind still buzzing. Although she was usually level-headed, Elliot seemed to have an effect on her that threw her off balance.

Finally, she stood up, running a hand through her hair.

“What the hell are you getting yourself into, Benson?” she muttered to herself.

Despite her reservations, a small part of her was already looking forward to the next day. As she got ready for bed, the image and sound of Elliot Stabler’s intense gaze and low, gruff voice remained lodged in her mind, a constant reminder of the uncertain but thrilling night that awaited her.

As she climbed into bed, her mind still swimming with thoughts of Elliot, Olivia couldn’t help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness. She was stepping into uncharted territory with her emotions.

She closed her eyes, the image of Elliot's face and the memory of his voice filling her mind.

Tomorrow evening would be an interesting one. There was no doubt about that.

But with that thought, Olivia felt a wave of exhaustion hit her. The events of the day, coupled with the tumultuous emotions Elliot had stirred up, were suddenly too much.

Her dreams were filled with images of a brooding and intense Elliot Stabler as she succumbed to sleep.

And despite herself, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

Chapter 2: The Illusion

Chapter Text

Next Day...

Olivia woke up the following day, her mind immediately turning to the evening ahead. She went through her usual morning routine, her thoughts continuously drifting back to her upcoming dinner with Elliot.

At the station...

Olivia entered the precinct, forcing her focus back to the case at hand. As she sat down at her desk, she was instantly aware of her coworkers' curious gazes. She could feel their unspoken questions about her meeting with Elliot Stabler.

She tried to ignore their stares, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that they somehow knew about her plans for the night.

She was broken out of her thoughts when her partner, Brian Cassidy, appeared next to her desk.

“Morning,” he said, his voice carefully neutrally. But there was a certain edge to his gaze that she couldn’t ignore; it was jealousy. “I tried to call you last night.”

The edge in his voice wasn't lost on her. She let out a sigh, leaning back in her chair.

“I was busy,” she said casually. There was a hint of defensiveness in her tone; she knew he was about to press the issue.

“Too busy to answer your phone?” Brian replied, raising an eyebrow. He was clearly not buying her excuse. “You usually answer even if you’re busy.”

Olivia bristled a little at the accusation but kept her tone calm. “I was tired. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

She turned away from him, her eyes on the files on her desk, hoping that he would drop it.

But it was clear he wasn’t going to let it rest.

“You’re not doing the whole ‘avoiding’ me thing, are you?” he asked, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “We’re work partners, Olivia, and we’ve been doing well, haven’t we?”

Olivia took another deep breath, fighting the irritation that was bubbling up inside her. She hated it when he got pushy and demanding.

“We are work partners,” she agreed, her voice tight. “But that doesn’t mean I have to account for every minute of my day to you.”

Olivia looked past Brian to see Reynolds, one of Elliot’s security detail, begin to approach her desk. Reynolds held a clothing gift-wrapped box in one hand and an arrangement of roses in the other.

“Detective Benson,” he said, giving her a nod. “I have a delivery for you.”

Olivia accepted the box and flowers, her curiosity piqued. She thanked him and waited until he had moved away before opening the card attached to the flowers.

As she opened the envelope and took out the small white card, Olivia felt her heart quicken—she already knew who it was from.

In elegant, looping handwriting, a single line was written on the card:

Looking forward to tonight. E.

A shiver ran down Olivia’s spine as she read the words, the simple message sending a rush of heat through her body. Despite her efforts to remain calm and unbothered, she couldn’t help the effect Elliot’s gesture had on her.

Brian, however, was not so easily deterred. He stood beside her, his eyes fixed on the card and the items in her hands.

“Who sent those?” he asked, his voice laced with annoyance.

Olivia tucked the card back into the envelope and placed the arrangement of roses aside.

“None of your business,” she replied coolly, not even sparing him a glance as she began to open the gift box.

Munch, who had been watching the scene from his desk, couldn’t help but chime in, his voice laced with a hint of humor.

“Looks like things with Mr. Stabler did go as well as Cassidy said,” he commented.

Brian’s irritation flared higher at Munch’s words, and he glared at the older detective.

“I told you, they-” he started to object, but Olivia cut him off.

“Don’t you have work to do, Munch?” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She shot him a warning look, silently asking him to drop the subject.

Munch, always the master of reading a room, caught her message. He held his hands up in surrender and turned back to his desk, a knowing smirk on his face.

Olivia let out a breath and turned her attention back to the box.

Opening the box, she found a dress inside – a form-fitting black number with a long slit up the side. It was undeniably sexy and sophisticated.

She pulled the dress from the box, running her fingers over the soft fabric. It was expensive and elegant – just like Elliot.

Underneath the dress was a smaller envelope. She picked it up, her fingers trembling slightly. Inside it was another card with a short note scrawled in Elliot's handwriting:

Wear something nice

A flush spread across Olivia’s cheeks. Elliot’s gesture was clear: he had chosen her clothes for the evening. Despite the hint of possessiveness in the gesture, she couldn’t help but find it both thrilling and flattering.

Meanwhile, Brian loomed beside her, his eyes on the card in her hands. He looked like he was ready to explode.

Fin was silently observing from his desk, a hint of a smirk on his face. He could see the tension between Olivia and Brian, which he clearly found highly entertaining.

“Sexy dress, babygirl,” he teased, his voice low.

Olivia glanced over at him, rolling her eyes slightly. But there was also a hint of a smile on her lips, betraying her true feelings about the situation.

Brian, meanwhile, looked like he was about to lose his mind. He could see the easy banter between Fin and Olivia and the apparent implication of the gift and the note. He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his cool.

“So, where's he takin' ya?” Fin continued, grinning a little wider at Brian’s obvious discomfort.

Olivia shook her head, a hint of embarrassment in her tone. “I don't know,” she said, though she couldn’t entirely suppress her smile.

“Well, it's obviously someplace fancy,” Fin teased. “And private, I bet.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, clearly enjoying pushing Brian’s buttons.

Brian's face reddened further, his hand clenching into a tight fist. He looked like he was ready to snap.

Olivia shot a warning look at Fin, silently begging him to drop the subject. But Fin was having too much fun taunting them.

“I wonder what you’re gonna do on this fancy date,” Fin continued, his voice filled with amusem*nt. “A private dinner, maybe? Some fancy wine? A little-”

“That’s enough, Fin,” Olivia snapped, cutting him off before he could say anything more.

Fin held up his hands in surrender, his smirk still firmly in place. “Alright, alright,” he said. “I’m just sayin', you better bring your A-game tonight, babygirl. From what I hear, Mr. Stabler’s not an easy man to handle.”

Olivia’s cheeks heated up even more at Fin’s words. He was right. Elliot had a reputation for being just that. He was intense, passionate, and completely unapologetic about what he wanted.

And tonight, she was the thing he wanted.

Unable to control himself any longer, Brian slammed his hand down on the desk, making a loud thud that silenced the squad room.

The other detectives turned, surprised at the sudden outburst. Even Olivia started at the sound, her attention moving from Fin to her partner.

“Will you cut it out?” Brian hissed. The anger in his voice was almost palpable. He was no longer trying to hide his jealousy or his obvious discomfort.

Fin raised an eyebrow, his amusem*nt replaced by a hint of caution. It was clear that Brian was reaching his breaking point.

"What's your problem, man?" Fin asked, his voice calm and measured.

Brian glared at Fin, his jaw clenched so tight that the muscle in his cheek was twitching. "Oh, I dunno," he said, sarcastic bite in his voice. "Maybe it's that my partner is going on a date with some arrogant billionaire architect!"

Olivia, who had been quietly listening to the exchange, finally spoke up, her voice firm.

“First of all, it’s none of your business who I date, Brian. And secondly, Elliot’s not the problem here. You are.”

Brian's eyes widened at her words, clearly stung by her honesty. But he wasn’t going to let it go that easily.

“He comes from money, and he has money, Olivia. He probably doesn’t know the first thing about the real world, the things we deal with daily.”

Olivia bristled at his words. She knew Elliot wasn't the typical rich guy living in a bubble of wealth and privilege. Elliot was intense, driven, and had a sense of purpose that belied his privileged upbringing.

"You don't know anything about Elliot, Brian," she said firmly. "And it's not your place to judge him."

Fin and the other detectives remained silent, watching the exchange with rapt attention like spectators at a tennis match.

Brian, realizing his argument was not holding much sway, changed tactics. He stepped towards Olivia, his expression shifting to one of concern.

"You don't know him either, Liv," he said, his voice soft. "I know what these types of guys are like. They're all flash and no substance."

Olivia crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes steely. Despite Brian's attempt to play the concerned friend, she could see the jealousy and possessiveness behind his words.

"That’s for me to find out," she said, her voice unwavering. "I don't need you to protect me, Brian.”

Brian's face hardened at her words. He wasn't used to being rejected or shut down by Olivia.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," he said, his voice still hinting at possessiveness. "You deserve better than some trust-fund kid who thinks he can have whatever he wants, including you."

Olivia bit down on the inside of her cheek, her patience wearing thin. She was getting tired of his possessive attitude and the way he seemed to think he had a right to dictate her dating life.

"I can look out for myself, Brian," she said, her voice firm. "And I can decide who I date and want to be with."

Fin, silently listening again, couldn't help but chime in. "She’s got a point there, Cassidy."

Brian shot Fin a glare, clearly not appreciating his input. His eyes then flicked to Olivia, his expression a mixture of frustration and anger.

"You’re making a mistake,” he practically growled, his voice low and thick.

Olivia raised an eyebrow, her expression hardening as she mirrored his tone.

"That’s for me to decide, not you,” she snapped. “And if you can’t handle that, we have a problem.”

The squad room fell silent. The tension between Olivia and Brian was palpable, the air crackling with tension and suppressed feelings.

Brian held her gaze momentarily, his jaw flexing as he fought to control his emotions. Finally, he let out a deep breath, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I just don't want to see you get hurt," he mumbled, his voice softening a bit.

Olivia's expression softened slightly as well. Despite his possessive and jealous nature, she knew Brian cared about her.

"I appreciate your concern," she said, her voice still firm but lacking the sharp edge from seconds ago. "But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself."

Brian seemed to want to argue more, to make a dozen more points about how Elliot was wrong for her. But he could see the determined look in Olivia's eyes and knew it would be futile.

"Just... be careful, okay?” he muttered, his voice still hinting jealousy and possessiveness.

Olivia let out a sigh, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "I will," she promised, her voice sincere.

As the day drew to a close, Olivia wrapped up her work and started packing up her things. It was a Friday, and the end of the week couldn't come soon enough.

The squad room had quieted down since her argument with Brian earlier. Fin and Munch were bantering about a case they'd closed.

Brian, still clearly disgruntled, was quietly fuming at his desk. He hadn't spoken to Olivia since their argument and was studiously avoiding eye contact with her.

Despite the lingering tension with her partner, Olivia couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement as she got ready to leave. The evening ahead held the promise of a mystery date with Elliot, and the prospect of what the evening would bring sent a thrill through her.

She glanced at Brian, who was still sitting at his desk with a dark expression on his face. She knew they would have to address their argument later, but for now, she didn't have the energy to deal with his jealousy and possessiveness again.

With that thought in mind, she gave a silent farewell to the squad, not missing Fin's knowing smirk and subtle nod. She gave him the middle finger before heading out the door and home to prepare for her date.

Once home, she quickly showered, changed, and dressed. The black dress fit her like a glove, the form-fitting material accentuating her curves in all the right places. She paired it with strappy black heels and simple jewelry to look sophisticated but not overdone.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing down the dress's fabric and checking her makeup one last time. She looked good – really good. She allowed herself a small, secret smile as she thought about Elliot's reaction.

Just then, the doorbell rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She thought that had to be the driver Elliot was sending, feeling a flutter of nerves in her stomach.

She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, opening it to find a tall, stern-looking man standing there. From the background she had completed on Elliot, she knew the man was Jason Taylor, Elliot’s head of security.

"Ms. Benson?" he asked, his voice deep and serious.

Olivia nodded wordlessly, feeling a little intimidated by the man's presence. She hadn't expected Elliot to send his head of security.

"Mr. Stabler asked me to fetch you," Taylor said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We have a car waiting."

Olivia nodded again, her nerves growing. It was clear from Taylor's tone and demeanor that he did not tolerate delays or interruptions. He was there to make sure she got safely to Elliot, period.

She followed Taylor outside, her heels clicking against the pavement. The black luxury car parked by the curb looked like something out of a magazine, its sleek lines and shiny paint job practically screaming money and power.

Taylor opened the backseat door for her, gesturing for her to get in. She gave him a hesitant smile and slid into the cool leather seat, the interior matching the outside - sophisticated and high-end.

The door shut with a heavy thunk, leaving her in the silent, plush interior. She tried to steady her breathing, her mind swirling with thoughts of what the night would bring.

Taylor started the car, pulling away from the curb and moving smoothly into NYC traffic. Olivia watched the city lights blaze past the window, trying to focus her thoughts and ignore the growing butterflies in her stomach.

The drive was mostly silent. Taylor was laser-focused on the road ahead, not seeming like a man for small talk. Olivia, for her part, was content to watch the city rush by, the neon lights and late-night activity a blur through the tinted windows.

Before she knew it, the car slowed to a stop. Taylor came around to open her door, gesturing for her to step out. Looking up, Olivia realized they were in front of the James Hotel, its elegant facade lit up against the night sky.

Her heart was now pounding in her chest as she stepped out of the car, Taylor's stoic presence right behind her. He led her through the hotel's door into the marbled, upscale lobby.

A few heads turned to watch her as she followed Taylor across the lobby, the clack of her heels echoing off the high ceiling. She tried to ignore the stares, her stomach fluttering with nervousness and anticipation.

Taylor led her silently to the elevators, his large form acting as a protective shield around her. He pressed the call button, and the elevator doors slid open, revealing the sleek steel interior.

They stepped inside, and Taylor pressed the button for the top floor, the penthouse suite. Olivia caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirrored doors, her heart racing as the elevator ascended.

The elevator ride felt both interminable and incredibly short. Olivia's mind whirled with thoughts of what the next moments would hold. Would Elliot be waiting for her already? Would he be pleased with how she looked? Would she be able to keep her emotions in check?

Finally, the elevator came to a smooth stop, the doors sliding open with a soft chime. Taylor stepped out first, eyes scanning the restaurant for potential threats or dangers.

Olivia followed suit, stepping into Scarpetta, a high-end Italian restaurant. The dim lights, soft music, and elegant decor gave it a classy and intimate feel. Immediately, the maitre'd approached them, his practiced smile faltering slightly as he recognized who Taylor was.

"Good evening, sir," the maitre'd said, his voice betraying a hint of nervousness. "Mr. Stabler is expecting you."

Without waiting for a reply, the maitre’d hurried over to a secluded, private table at the back of the restaurant. The table was set for two, and the candlelight flickered softly on the white tablecloth.

Olivia's heart skipped a beat as she finally saw Elliot waiting for her, his intense eyes fixed on her. He was as handsome and debonair as ever, clad in a black suit and tie, the material clinging to his broad shoulders and muscular frame. And she thought he looked delicious.

He rose to his feet as she approached, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Olivia," he said, his voice warm yet tinged with a hint of possessiveness. "You look absolutely stunning."

His words sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine, and she couldn't help a small smile in response. His gaze roved over her, taking in every detail of her appearance, sending another wave of heat through her body with the unabashed desire flickering in his eyes.

He stepped closer, reaching a hand out to take hers. The contact sent an electric charge through her, and her skin responded immediately to his touch. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, and his eyes never left hers.

"I'm glad you could make it," he said, his voice a low, velvety rumble. His fingers gently encircled her wrist, his thumb lightly stroking the sensitive skin there, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

"The pleasure is all mine,” she replied, her voice quieter than usual, the feel of his touch almost hypnotic. Her body was responding to him in ways she hadn't expected, her pulse racing, her skin heated and sensitive.

He pulled out a chair for her, his arm brushing against her bare skin. The touch sent a spark of pleasure through her, and she caught a hint of his cologne, dark and masculine. She sat down, her legs shaky, her eyes meeting his over the flickering candlelight.

Elliot sat across from her, the distance between them still close enough for him to feel the heat of his body. He watched her intently, his eyes roaming over her features and his gaze lingering on her lips.

"I'm glad you like the dress," he murmured, his tone almost a growl. His eyes darkened as they scanned her, the form-fitting fabric of the dress emphasizing the curves.

"You have good taste," she replied, her voice soft. She fidgeted in her seat, trying to control her body's reaction to his gaze, the heat pooling deep in her belly. She could feel the electricity between them, the charged air practically crackling.

Elliot chuckled, the low sound sending another shiver through her. He picked up a bottle of wine from the side, expertly uncorking it without looking away from her. "You have no idea," he said, pouring the dark liquid into crystalline wine glasses.

He handed her a glass, his fingers lightly brushing hers. The touch was like a jolt, and her breath hitched. Olivia took the glass, her fingers feeling clumsy and uncooperative. Her heart was now beating so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

Taking a sip of the wine, she glanced around the restaurant, noticing they were the only ones besides the staff.

"Did you... buy out the whole restaurant?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. She was touched and a little overwhelmed by the lengths he had gone to to make the night special.

"I wanted us to have privacy," he replied, his voice low and rough. His gaze flicked back to her, those intense blue eyes seeming to see straight through her. "Is that a problem?"

"No, of course not," Olivia said quickly. Despite the small part of her that was screaming to be rational, the rest of her was too busy being thrilled by his attention. “It’s just…”

She trailed off, unsure how to articulate the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings racing through her head. She took another sip of the wine, the liquid warm and smooth as it slid down her throat. “This is the most expensive Italian restaurant in Manhattan.”

Elliot chuckled, the sound a low rumble that sent another wave of heat through her body. "You’re worth it," he said, his voice oozing with confidence.

Olivia blinked, slightly taken aback. His sincere tone and unabashed possessiveness in his voice were a stark contrast to how he often acted. Part of her knew she should be wary of his possessive nature, but another part of her, the part that was slowly falling under his spell, was secretly enjoying it.

She cleared her throat, trying to steady her thoughts. "No one has ever done something so grand for me before," she said, her voice a little more breathless than she wanted it to be.

"Well, they should have," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. He reached over, taking her free hand in his and giving it a slight squeeze. His fingers laced with hers, the simple touch sending sparks shooting up her arm.

She swallowed, her heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to burst out of her chest. His touch was electric, sending tingles of pleasure through her body, making her acutely aware of his presence.

Just then, the waiter approached their table, his polite smile barely masking his apparent nervousness. "Mr. Stabler, are you ready to order?" he asked, his eyes locked on Elliot, not even glancing in Olivia’s direction.

"We'll start with the Faroe Island Salmon and Seared Scallops," Elliot said, his voice firm and authoritative. He was still holding her hand, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "And we’ll have the Prime Sirloin for the main course. And another bottle of the Brunello, the same year as before."

The waiter nodded, scribbling down the order. He darted a quick look at Olivia, something akin to jealousy and pity in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away. "Excellent, sir," he said, rushing to relay the order to the kitchen.

Olivia barely noticed the waiter’s looks. Her attention was completely focused on Elliot and the way his thumb was still moving circles over her hand. The heat from his fingers seemed to burn through her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You've got quite the reputation, haven't you," she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. Despite the nerves still fluttering in her stomach, the intimacy of the moment was starting to make her feel braver.

Elliot chuckled, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Do I?" he asked, feigning innocence. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

"The waiter didn't even look in my direction," she said, her voice a little breathless. The feel of his lips on her skin sent another shiver down her spine, her body reacting to his touch in ways she couldn't control.

"That’s because you're with me," Elliot said, his voice dropping an octave, sending a chill through her. He turned her hand over, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist right on top of her soulmate mark, his lips lingering against her pulse point.

Olivia couldn't stop the small gasp that escaped from her. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through her, her skin extra-sensitive under his mouth. The simple act suddenly felt intimate and erotic, making her stomach flutter.

Elliot's eyes darkened, taking in her reaction to his touch. The desire was now palpable, hanging in the air like an electric charge, filling the space between them. He kept his fingers entangled with hers, continuing to place soft kisses on her wrist right above her soulmate mark, his tongue darting out to taste her skin.

Olivia closed her eyes, her body hyper-aware of his every move. She could feel the heat from his breath and the slight roughness of his tongue on her skin, every nerve ending in her body alive and on fire. The sensations were overwhelming, leaving her breathless and yearning for more.

Elliot continued his slow exploration of her wrist, his lips and tongue sending a wave of pleasure through her with each press. His movements were unhurried as if he was savoring the moment, each lick and kiss slow and deliberate, prolonging the pleasure and driving her insane.

Olivia tried to control her body’s reactions, desperately wanting to retain some composure, but quickly lost that battle. Her breathing was ragged, and her chest heaving as he continued to lavish attention on her wrist, each stroke of his tongue sending heat coiling in her stomach.

Elliot smiled against her skin, fully aware of his effect on her. He lifted his gaze to hers, his eyes dark and sparkling with desire and possessiveness. The look on his face made it clear he was thoroughly enjoying having her reduced to a quivering mess.

The waiter arrived with their appetizers, expertly placing the dishes in front of them before retreating to the kitchen. The food looked exquisite, but Olivia was too preoccupied even to register the fancy fare in front of her. She still felt unnerved by his comment about the background check.

"Elliot… what am I missing?" she asked, her voice a little shaky but tinged with a hint of amusem*nt. Despite the effect he was having her on, she couldn't help the slight smile on her lips. She glanced down at her exposed skin, now slightly red and flushed from his ministrations. “You are too… perfect.”

Focusing her attention on her food, Olivia took a bite of the succulent salmon, the flavor bursting across her taste buds. The food was exquisite, a far cry from her usual take-out and microwave meals diet. She ate silently for a moment, trying to regain her composure and control the wild emotions swirling inside her.

Elliot chuckled, a low, dangerous sound that sent another chill through her. He finally released her hand and sat back in his seat, his eyes roaming her face. "Not much. The background check you ran on me gave you the majority," he said, his voice tinged with just a hint of mockery. He took a slow sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving hers.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat at his words, a flicker of surprise crossing her features at the mention of the background check. But she quickly regained her composure, unwilling to show him how flustered she was. “You know about that?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow in a cool expression.

"I have my ways," he said, his lips curving into a co*cky smirk. He set his wine down, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed air. "No hard feelings. I had my team do the same.”

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, her gaze snapping up to meet his. The revelation that he had investigated her just as much as she had him was unexpected. She tried to keep her face neutral, not wanting to show how flustered she was. “You what?” she asked, her voice betraying just a hint of disbelief.

Elliot's thumb made lazy circles on her thigh, igniting her nerve endings with every pass. "Don't look so surprised," he replied, a hint of amusem*nt in his voice. "Did you think I'd be with a woman without knowing everything about her?"

Olivia shifted in her seat, her body responding instinctively to his touch. The idea that he had delved into her past was slightly unnerving just as she had his. But she couldn’t deny the thrill that raced through her simultaneously. “I guess not,” she said, her voice betraying her conflicting emotions.

The waiter returned with their entrees, placing the plates in front of them with practiced ease. The food looked even more impressive now, and the aroma wafting from the plate made her mouth water. Despite her growing hunger, Olivia found it hard to focus on the food, her thoughts continuously returning to the man across from her.

Elliot picked up his fork and began to eat, entirely at ease again. His eyes never left hers, tracking her every move like a hawk. It was infuriating how he could turn her world upside down with a look, leaving her feeling off-balance and uncertain. But it was also thrilling and exciting. No one had ever affected her so profoundly before, so completely. She would soon figure out why. “Eat.”

Pushing her thoughts away, Olivia followed his command, focusing on the food in front of her. The first bite of the perfectly cooked prime sirloin had her closing her eyes in bliss, a soft moan of pleasure escaping her lips. She quickly composed herself, opening her eyes to find Elliot watching her intently.

By the time she finished her meal, she was feeling a mix of emotions - flustered, turned on, overwhelmed. Elliot had barely spoken, but his presence and intensity were enough to leave her weak-kneed. She dabbed at her mouth with the napkin, stalling for time to gather her thoughts.

Elliot had finished eating before her, sitting back in his chair and watching her intently. He seemed to be enjoying her internal struggle, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of a smirk. The bastard. He knew exactly what he was doing to her and loved every second of it.

Olivia cleared her throat, attempting to sound composed even though she felt anything but. "That was delicious," she managed to say, her voice shaking. She shifted in her seat, readjusting her legs to ease the tension growing in her core. “But… we still haven't discussed ‘your desires.’”

Elliot raised an eyebrow at her change of topic, his smirk growing wider. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes roaming over her face, taking in her flushed cheeks and slightly unsteady breaths. "My desires?" he echoed, his voice lower, rougher than before.

"Yes," she said, her voice firmer this time. She forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes locking with his. She was determined to regain control, not to let him throw her off balance. "We agreed to discuss it.”

“We did, but first…” Elliot topped off their wine glasses from a decanter sitting on the table, the liquid swirling around hypnotically. "Answer me this, Miss Benson. Are you an incurable romantic," he said, his voice low and smooth.

Olivia picked up her glass, her hand trembling slightly. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice shaky. She took a small sip, the wine sweet on her tongue. She needed to relax, to quiet the nervous energy coursing through her veins. “My mother is a retired English professor, and my degree is in English Literature. I kind of have to be.”

He signals for Reynolds, who silently approaches the table. His eyes scan the surroundings before settling on Elliot. "Sir," he said, his voice deep and gravelly.

"Pay the bill and tell Taylor to bring the car around," Elliot instructed, his eyes still not leaving Olivia's face. Reynolds nodded and retreated silently, leaving them alone once again.

Elliot was still watching her intently, the intensity of his gaze making it difficult for her to think straight. Finally, he spoke, “I’m sorry, Olivia. I can't.”

She managed to find her voice. "Wait… What?" she asked, her tone a bit braver than she felt but still laced with concussion.

Elliot reached out, again laying his hand over hers on the table. The familiar touch sent a shiver down her spine, his fingers wrapping around hers possessively. "I’ll walk you out," he replied, his voice gruff.

"Do you have a girlfriend? Is that it?" she said, her voice betraying just a hint of the nerves.

Elliot's hand squeezed hers once before gently pulling her out of her chair. He stood close to her, their bodies almost touching as he led her out of the restaurant. “I don't do the girlfriend thing.”

The air outside was cool, a refreshing change from the cozy warmth of the restaurant. Olivia couldn't help but shiver as they walked to the waiting car, Elliot's hand still firmly around hers. She glanced around, taking in the surroundings. The street was fairly quiet, but his bodyguards were impossible to miss, three massive men following close behind them.

Elliot held the car door open for her, his hand resting on the small of her back as she stepped off the curb, almost falling. He caught her, “Hey, watch it.” Their eyes locked as he caressed her face, “I’m not the man for you. You should steer clear of me.”

The simple touch ignited her skin, leaving her burning and sensitive.

After a heavy sigh, Elliot continues, “I have to let you go.” Elliot‘s grip on the car door tightened as Olivia slid into the backseat.

She took a deep breath, trying to control her emotions, “Goodbye, Mr. Stabler.”

Olivia sat in the backseat of the car, her mind reeling from his confession that left her both confused and intrigued. Elliot stood outside, his eyes fixed on her through the tinted window. His gaze was intense, a look of intense and almost pained longing.

The car pulled away from the curb, silently gliding through the city streets. The tinted windows prevented anyone from seeing inside.

Olivia tried to relax in her seat, but she just wanted to get home and sleep. The car ride wasn't long, but it felt like an eternity. Every second that passed only intensified her emotions.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, the car pulled up in front of her building. Olivia glanced out the window before opening the door and running up the stairs to her apartment without a word to Taylor.

Olivia quietly opened the door to her apartment, closing it behind her with a soft click. The silence enveloped her like a heavy blanket. The only sound was her ragged breathing. She leaned heavily against the door, the weight of the evening crashing down on her.

Finally, after a few moments, she entered her living room, discarding her shoes before collapsing onto the couch. She sat in the darkened room, the city lights outside illuminating the room in dim, shifting colors.

Olivia sat in the darkened room, her thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and emotions. Elliot's rejection was still fresh in her mind, the pain and confusion still burning inside her. How he could act so cold and then look at her like that. It made absolutely no sense. It was like he was fighting between what he wanted and what he felt he had to do. It didn’t make sense. No matter how she tried to work it out, his actions contradicted his words and vice versa.

Olivia didn't bother to change into pajamas, the dress still clinging to her body. She crawled under the covers, exhausted and emotionally drained. As she closed her eyes, images of Elliot's face and the memories of their interaction flood her mind, keeping her from falling asleep.

Time ticked by, the hours passing slowly. Olivia tossed and turned in bed, unable to get Elliot's face and the memories of the night out of her mind. The words "I’m not the man for you" rang in her head over and over, haunting her thoughts.

Finally, as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through the curtains, Olivia gave up on sleep. She sat up in bed, her eyes bleary and her heart still heavy. The realization that sleep wouldn't come settled over her, and with a deep sigh, she resigned herself to a long, tiring day ahead.

Chapter 3: How We Got Here

Chapter Text

As she got up and made her way to the shower, she couldn't shake the memory of Elliot's intense gaze and the way his touch had set her skin on fire. The rejection stung, but the chemistry between them had been undeniable.

Stepping under the hot spray, Olivia closed her eyes as the water cascaded down her body. The heat soothed her muscles but did little to ease her frustration and confusion. She tried to rationalize her thoughts and feelings to make sense of what happened.

As she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a robe, her phone buzzed on the countertop, breaking through the silence. She glanced at the screen and saw a message from Brian. Her heart skipped a beat, hoping for a distraction from her thoughts.

With a quick towel through her hair, Olivia checked the message. It was a simple reminder for their morning briefing at the precinct. The mundane message grounded her, forcing her to put aside her personal problems and focus on the case.

Olivia quickly dressed in her work clothes, the routine offering a slight distraction from her restless thoughts. She paused in front of the mirror, applying minimal makeup and running her fingers through her hair.

As she picked up her bag, glancing at her reflection one last time, she vowed to control her emotions and remain professional. The investigation needed her full attention, and she couldn't let her personal feelings get in the way.

She made her way out of the apartment and hailed a taxi. The city came to life around them as they navigated through traffic. The air was cool and brisk, and the hustle and bustle of the city was a welcome distraction from her inner turmoil.

Arriving at the precinct, Olivia was greeted by the familiar scene of colleagues and chaos. She made her way through the bustling hallways to her desk, exchanging polite nods with her fellow detectives.

Brian was already there, nursing a cup of coffee while reviewing some paperwork. He looked up when she approached, a casual, familiar smile on his face.

"Morning, Liv. You look like you could use one of these," he joked, gesturing to his coffee. Olivia managed a small smile, acknowledging his attempt at light banter.

"You have no idea," she muttered, sitting heavily in her chair.

Brian raised an eyebrow, his expression serious as he noticed the fatigue on her face. "Late night with Mr. Stabler?" he asked, his tone laced with jealousy.

Olivia stiffened, her thoughts instantly returning to her encounter with Elliot. How could she explain her conflicted feelings, the way he had rejected her, and yet the intense connection between them was undeniable?

She forced a casual shrug, not meeting his gaze. "Yeah, something like that," she muttered.

Brian's expression darkened, his jealousy and annoyance evident. He took a sip of his coffee, trying to control his reaction, but his voice had an edge when he spoke again.

"So, you slept with him then?”

Olivia's anger flared, the accusation striking a nerve. She shot Brian a sharp glare, her tone sharp and defensive. "No, I didn't," she responded, her voice taut with irritation.

She paused, taking a deep breath to calm herself before continuing. "And even if I did, it's none of your damn business," she added, her eyes boring into his.

Brian's jaw tightened at her response, and he leaned back in his chair, his annoyance escalating. "Well, you’re acting different," he retorted, his tone laced with frustration. "You can't deny that. But maybe I can help cheer you up later?”

Olivia felt her patience wearing thin, his attitude grating on her already frayed nerves. She clenched her jaw, her hands gripping the edge of her desk. "I'm acting different because I'm tired," she retorted, her voice strained.

"And I don't need your 'cheering up,'" she said, making air quotes, "We're partners, not a couple. So just drop it, alright?”

Brian bristled at her words, his eyes flashing with hurt and annoyance. He sat up straighter in his chair, his voice lowering to a growl. "Fine, we’re partners.”

He paused, meeting her gaze with fierce intensity. "But there's a reason why we aren't a couple, Liv. And it's not because of me,” he accused, a hint of jealousy seeping into his words.

Olivia's annoyance flared at his insinuation, fueled by his obvious jealousy. She stood up, leaning forward on her desk and meeting his gaze with equal intensity.

"Maybe that's because you're too childish for a relationship,” she shot back, her voice laced with bitterness. She took a deep breath, her voice lowering, "I’m tired of one-night stands and little boy drama.”

Brian's face darkened further, the hurt in his eyes replaced by anger. He also stood up, his hands slamming down on the desk in frustration. "Well, excuse me for wanting more,” he snapped harshly.

He met her gaze with a sharp glare, his voice dripping with jealousy and disappointment. "But you’d rather run off to some rich prick like Stabler than give me a chance, huh?”

Olivia's anger flared, her eyes narrowing as she met his gaze. "I’m not running off with anyone," she spat out, her voice rising.

She paused for a brief second, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. "Now, f*cking drop it.”

Brian huffed, slumping back into his chair and mumbling something under his breath. His irritation was evident, but he seemed too begrudgingly back down. He grabbed his coffee and took a long sip, his eyes darting back to her occasionally.

Olivia exhaled, her anger slowly dissipating. She sat back down, forcing herself to take a deep breath and focus on the case.

The rest of the morning was silent, the only sound being the soft clacking of keys on keyboards and the occasional phone ring. It was an uncomfortable silence, filled with lingering tension and unspoken words.

As the afternoon ticked by, the tension between Olivia and Brian only seemed to amplify. Their interactions were stiff and polite, laced with unspoken frustrations.

Finally, as the day neared its end, Olivia started to pack up her things. She was tired, both mentally and physically, and was ready to call it a day.

Brian watched her from across the desk, a mixture of resignation and frustration flickering in his gaze. He knew he had overstepped, but jealousy and disappointment still simmered beneath the surface.

He sighed softly, rubbing a hand over his stubbly chin. "Heading out?" he asked, his voice lacking any warmth.

Olivia nodded, zipping up her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. She met his gaze, her expression calm and unreadable. "Yeah, I'm done for the day."

She paused for a moment, her voice softer than before. "I'll see you tomorrow, Brian."

He nodded, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "Yeah, see you," he muttered, his voice tight with suppressed emotions.

Olivia didn't linger, feeling the weight of the tension among them. She turned on her heels and started out of the bullpen, her footsteps echoing through the now mostly empty hallways.

One Month Later…

The precinct was busy as always, with detectives and officers moving about and the constant drone of conversations filling the air.

Olivia, however, was focused on the file in front of her. She was immersed in her work, her eyes scanning lines of text. The month had passed in a blur, and the tension between her and Brian had only increased.

Fin leaned back in his chair, the weariness of the week evident in the bags under his eyes. He stretched his arms above his head, a loud crack filling the air.

"Man, I could use a drink," he groaned, his voice low and tired. "Anyone else up for it?"

Olivia looked up from her file, her eyes darting to Fin. The tiredness tugged at her, and the thought of a drink to unwind was tempting.

"I could go for one," she said, a slight smirk on her lips. "As long as I can invite Alex.”

Fin nodded a tired but amused expression on his face. "Hell yeah, the more the merrier. I'm sure Cabot won't say no."

Olivia smiled slightly. She glanced at her watch and saw that it was already five-thirty. "I just need to finish up this report, and then we're good to go,” she said, returning her attention to the file in front of her.

As she worked through the paperwork, her thoughts drifted back to Elliot. They hadn't spoken since that night, but the memories of their encounter lingered in her mind. The idea of seeing him again filled her with anticipation and dread.

Finally, she closed the file and pushed it aside, satisfied with her work. She glanced over at Fin, who was packing up his things. "I'm done," she announced, standing up.

Fin looked up, a smirk on his face. "About time, Liv," he teased, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. "Cabot’s gonna meet us there."

Olivia rolled her eyes affectionately at Fin's playful jab. "Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, grabbing her coat and following him out of the precinct with Brian and Munch.

The walk to the nearby bar was short, and the cool night air was refreshing after the long day. They arrived at the bar, a divey place near the precinct that was often a go-to for detectives.

The atmosphere was warm and dimly lit, with the faint hum of conversations and clinking glasses in the background. Fin led the way through the crowd, spotting Alex sitting at a booth towards the back.

"Hey, Cabot," Fin called out as they approached the table. Alex looked up, a smile spreading across her face as she rose to greet them.

"Hey, guys," she said, eyes scanning the group. She noticed Olivia and her smile widened slightly.

Olivia gave a small wave in response, her smile feeling forced. She slid into the booth next to Alex, with Fin and Munch taking the seats across from them while Brian pulled up a chair.

Fin signaled for a waitress, their group settling in for a night of unwinding and conversation.

The conversation steered towards work as the waitress came by, taking their drink orders. They discussed ongoing cases and vented about their frustrations and challenges that week.

As the alcohol started to flow, the conversation turned more personal, with playful banter and teasing flying across the table.

As the night wore on, Olivia found herself more and more intoxicated. Her laughter was louder, her cheeks flushed, and she could feel a pleasant buzz running through her veins.

As a lull in the conversation hit, Olivia suddenly realized she desperately needed to use the restroom. She pushed away from the table, stumbling slightly as she stood up.

"I need to pee," she slurred slightly, her words slightly blurred together.

Munch, who was seated across from her, chuckled in amusem*nt. "Looks like someone's had a little too much to drink, huh?" he teased playfully.

Olivia scowled at Munch but couldn't hide the smile dancing on her lips. "Shut up," she retorted, her voice a touch playful. "I'm just tipsy. I'll be fine."

As Olivia made her way through the crowded bar towards the restrooms, she cursed inwardly as she saw the long line extending out the door. She groaned in frustration, her bladder growing more urgent by the second. She leaned against the wall beside the restrooms, grumbling and fidgeting impatiently.

Her mind wandered as she waited in line, and her thoughts inevitably strayed to Elliot. She recalled his rejection of her, the sting of it as fresh as the night it had happened. Frustration rose within her, and a hint of bitterness mixed with her inebriated state.

With her frustration and impatience mounting, Olivia pulled out her phone. As her fingers scrolled through her contacts, she found herself scrolling through until she landed on Elliot's name.

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at his name, resentment bubbling inside her.

She hesitated for a second, her thumb hovering over the call button. The alcohol in her system lowered her inhibitions, and her emotional state heightened. She knew she shouldn't call him, considering their history and his apparent rejection.

Olivia's thumb pressed against the 'call' button, her anger and frustration driving her to act impulsively. The phone started ringing, and she held it up to her ear, her breath hitching slightly in anticipation.

The line rang a few times, echoing in Olivia's ears. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, a mix of anger, embarrassment, and determination fueling her. Then, the ringing stopped, and Elliot's voice came through the line, his tone cautious.

"Olivia."

Olivia, drunk and fueled by her anger, spoke into the phone with a hint of slurring in her voice. Her words were sharp and filled with bitterness.

"Yep. This is me," she greeted, her voice taut with suppressed emotions. "I have something I want to say to you."

On the other end of the line, Elliot's voice sounded taken aback by her tone. He could tell she had been drinking, which only heightened his concern. "Where are you?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

Olivia let out a bitter laugh, the sound harsh and tinged with hurt. "Women line 'cause I have to pee really bad," she retorted, her words loaded with sarcasm.

Elliot sighed, recognizing the signs of intoxication in her voice. "Olivia, have you been drinking?" he asked, his voice a mixture of concern and weariness.

Olivia giggled, "Yeah, I have mister fancy pants," she retorted, her words coming out slurred. "You hit the hail on the ned. I mean the head on the nail."

Elliot could almost picture her, a mix of hurt and irritation in her eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice gentle yet firm. "Listen to me. I want you to go home right now," he stated firmly.

"You’re so bossy," she slurred back, her anger and stubbornness rising to the surface. "Olivia, I’m taking you to dinner. No, stay away from me, Olivia. I don't want you. Get away. Come here, come here. Go away."

Elliot's voice grew sharper, laced with frustration. "That's it. Tell me where you are," he stated, his words leaving no room for argument.

"Ugh...fine," Olivia mumbled, still somewhat drunk and frustrated. She glanced around, trying to find the name of the bar on the sign outside.

"I’m at... at that one dive-y place," she slurred, the name escaping her at that moment.

"Which bar? What is it called?" Elliot asked, his voice firm. He knew the more alcohol she consumed, the more in danger she would put herself in.

Olivia huffed, her stubbornness and pride warring with the effects of the alcohol. "I don't know. I gotta go, though," she slurred, her voice filled with amusem*nt as she hung up the phone.

On the other end, Elliot cursed under his breath as the call ended. He clenched his jaw, his frustration and concern growing. He didn't know where she was; her state only added to his worry.

Shortly after the call ended, Olivia's phone started ringing again. She saw Elliot's name on the screen but was annoyed and stubborn in her drunken state. She considered ignoring the call, but something made her answer it.

"I’m sorry I didn't real—" she started but was interrupted by him.

"Stay where you are. I’m coming to get you," Elliot's voice was more gruff than before, filled with frustration and concern. He could hear the sounds of the bar and voices in the background, and that only increased his worry.

"What?" Olivia asked, her words slightly slurring as she leaned against the wall. She was frustrated and hurt, her drunken mind refusing to admit how her mood affected her actions.

Elliot hung up without a word. Olivia was left feeling even more frustrated after the call ended again. She was stuck in a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and even a hint of regret. She shoved her phone into her pocket, contemplating what to do next.

The alcohol in her system was working against her, making her thoughts fuzzy and her emotions even more heightened. She swayed slightly, her head spinning as she looked around the bar, her vision slightly blurred.

Olivia stumbled out of the bar, squinting as the cool night air hit her face. The alcohol had made her movements clumsy, and she stood on the sidewalk as a drunk Brian approached her from behind with her jacket.

"Hey," he said, his voice almost giddy. He draped her jacket over her shoulders, his eyes scanning her face. He could tell she was pretty drunk, her balance shaky and her speech slightly slurred.

Still a bit tipsy, Olivia looked up and saw Brian standing there. She blinked several times, but her vision was still a bit hazy. "Thanks," she said, her voice a little unsteady as she pulled her jacket tighter around herself.

Brian chuckled softly, watching her with a mixture of concern and amusem*nt. He could see the stubborn determination in her eyes, even in her drunken state. "You okay?" he asked, his voice gently teasing.

Olivia gave a slight nod, trying to appear more composed than she actually was. "Yeah, I'm just a little bit more drunk then," she replied, her words slightly slurred.

Olivia's resistance quickly intensified as Brian pulled her into his arms. “Come here. Get warm.” She stumbled against him; her instability exacerbated by the alcohol. “Oh, it's cool. I’m good, Brian…” She tried to pull away from her as she continued, “I gotta…” He pulls her back to him, “I don't know when I'll have the courage to do this.”

Brian's grip was firm, and he wasn't letting go. Olivia, still feeling resistant but also feeling the effects of alcohol, found herself somewhat trapped in his arms. "Do what?" she asked, her voice a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

Brian looked down at her, his voice soft but intense. "Olivia," he whispered softly.

Olivia's eyes met his as she continued to struggle against him. "No,” she stated, a hint of unease mixing with the alcohol-induced fuzziness in her mind.

Brian tightened his hold on her, his grip firm as he pulled her closer. "I love you," he said, with affection in his voice.

Olivia's eyes widened slightly, her drunken mind processing his words. It took a few seconds for the words to sink in, and she couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. Surprise, confusion, and a hint of flattery all swirled together in her intoxicated state. “You do? Oh my God.”

Brian moved closer, his intentions clear, “Please. Kiss me.” Olivia tried to resist. Her brain was slow to process what was happening, and the alcohol in her system made it even harder for her to react quickly. "No, no, no, Brian. I don't. I'm sorry, no,” she muttered, her voice quiet and slightly slurred.

But Brian didn't listen. He leaned in his grip on her still firm. Before he could press his lips against hers, Elliot shoved him away. “She said no.”

The sound of Elliot's voice caused Olivia to jerk, her drunken mind still working to process what was happening. She looked up to see Elliot standing there, his dark eyes fixing on Brian. “Elliot,” she gasped right before she threw up all over the sidewalk.

Elliot took a step forward, his concern for Olivia overriding his anger towards Brian. “Are you alright?” he asked, holding her hair back from her face. His eyes were filled with worry. Olivia, her stomach still retching, said, “No, don't look at me.” Instead, he handed her a handkerchief, “Here.”

Olivia took the handkerchief, her face a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment as she wiped her mouth. “Nice touch. I will launder this item.” She stumbled slightly; her balance still impaired by the alcohol. She looked up at Elliot, her expression a mix of gratitude and confusion.

Elliot moved closer, his hand on her upper arm, steady and grounding her. “Let’s getcha home,” he stated, his voice firm but gentle.

Olivia's head was still spinning, but the sight of Elliot made her heart skip a beat. She swayed slightly, the effects of the alcohol still making her movements clumsy. "I think I'm going to pass out," she mumbled, her words garbled somewhat.

"What? Now?" Elliot asked as she did, and he caught her in his arms.

Olivia woke up the next day with a throbbing headache and an unsettled stomach. The memories of the previous night came back to her in disjointed fragments - the heavy drinking, her awkward encounter with Brian, and Elliot's rescue.

She groaned and lifted a hand to her head, shutting her eyes against the harshness of the morning light seeping in through her curtains. Her mouth was dry, and the taste of alcohol lingered, making her stomach churn.

Olivia's eyes slowly opened again, and she looked around, disorientated. She found herself in a place she didn't immediately recognize, adding to her confusion. The familiar surroundings of her apartment were missing, replaced by an unfamiliar setting.

She tried to focus on her surroundings, her mind still foggy from the previous night's events. Her eyes drifted to the nightstand beside the bed she was lying in, searching for clues to her current situation.

Olivia saw two painkillers on the nightstand, a glass of orange juice, and two notes. One of the notes was placed with the painkillers, “Eat me.” The second in front of the orange juice, “Drink me.”

Slightly surprised Elliot had brought her to his home, she reached for the pills and gulped them down with the orange juice, hoping they would alleviate her headache.

Elliot entered the room just as she placed the empty glass back on the nightstand. He looked like he had been working out. His face was solemn, and his eyes watched her carefully. “Good morning, Olivia. How are you feeling?”

Olivia looked up to see Elliot, still feeling slightly vulnerable and hungover. "Better than I deserve," she admitted, her voice a little hoarse. “Did you put me to bed?”

Elliot nodded; his expression still serious. "Ummhmm." He paused, watching her closely.

Olivia met his gaze, her cheeks flushed with shame and embarrassment. "You undressed me?” she asked.

Elliot was matter of fact, saying, "I didn't have much choice." His voice was gruff.

Olivia's heart sank a bit, shame and embarrassment washing over her. She felt exposed and vulnerable, knowing that Elliot had seen more of her than she probably would have chosen in such a state. "Where did you sleep?" she asked, unsure she wanted the answer.

Elliot gestured toward the bed. Olivia's eyes went wide, her mind trying to process this information. "Oh my God. We didn't..." She trailed off, not quite sure how to finish her question.

Elliot looked at her with a hint of amusem*nt, but his voice remained serious. "Necrophilia is not my thing,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Olivia managed a slight smile, relieved but also mortified. "So, we just slept, then?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.

"It was a novelty for me, too," Elliot replied, his tone still gruff but his eyes softening as he looked at her.

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She remembered bits and pieces from the previous night - the drinking, her encounter with Brian, and Elliot's intervention. She looked at him, her expression apologetic as he made his way to the bed with toast in hand.

As Elliot settled onto the bed before her, he held out a plate of toast. "You need to eat,” he said, his voice still gruff but with a hint of softer now.

Olivia reluctantly took the plate, her stomach still feeling a bit queasy. But she knew he was right, and she needed to get some food in her to help with the residual effects of the alcohol. She took small bites, washing them down with the last of the orange juice.

Elliot watched her eat silently for a moment, his gaze never leaving her. After a while, he stated, "I had Taylor pick you up some clothes."

Olivia looked up at him, surprised. "Thank you. You didn't have to do that," she said, not expecting such thoughtfulness, given how angry he probably was with her.

Elliot shrugged; his eyes fixed on her. "Yes, I did. Yours were covered in vomit," he said, his tone still stern but not unkind. “You shouldn't get drunk like that. I’m all for testing the limits, but you put yourself at risk last night.”

Olivia flinched at his words. She knew he was right. She had been reckless and put herself in a dangerous situation—the thought of what could have happened left her feeling cold. "I know," she murmured, not meeting his gaze.

Olivia's heart rate spiked as Elliot suddenly began undressing, his actions catching her off guard. Her eyes widened as he removed his shirt, revealing his toned chest and muscular arms.

She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. She couldn't help but stare for a moment, her gaze taking in his muscular frame. The sight of him half-naked in front of her was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

As Elliot approached the bed again, his bare chest now on display, Olivia's heart began to pound even faster. He was dangerously close now, and she could feel the heat radiating off his body. “If you were mine, you wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.”

Olivia's mind went blank for a moment, the image of him disciplining her too vivid. She swallowed hard, trying to get her thoughts together. "What?” she managed to say, her voice a little breathless.

Elliot chuckled, noticing his effect on her. "I gotta go take a shower," he replied, his voice low and gravelly.

Olivia nodded wordlessly, watching as he moved to the bathroom. Her mind was a whirl, the sight of him half-naked and his implications about discipline stirring a fire in her belly that she didn't want to acknowledge. “Why am I here, Elliot?”

Elliot paused, turning back to look at her from the bathroom doorway. His eyes scanned over her, seeing the confusion and vulnerability in hers. "You’re here because I’m incapable of leaving you alone,” he said firmly.

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat at his words, her mind trying to wrap around them. "Then don’t,” she managed, her voice betraying her inner turmoil.

Elliot's expression darkened slightly, his eyes locking onto hers. He moved back toward the bed, taking a seat on the edge. "Listen to me. I don't do romance," he said, his voice low and intense. "My passions, my tastes are very… singular. You wouldn't understand."

Olivia's curiosity was piqued. She felt herself being pulled into his orbit, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. "Enlighten me then," she challenged, her eyes never leaving his face.

Elliot studied her for a moment, reading the unspoken desire in her eyes. Then he reached up, cupping her face, his thumb dragging across her lips.

Her pulse quickened at his touch, a shiver running through her body. She watched as he stood and walked back towards the bathroom, the image of his half-naked form seared into her mind.

The shower water running in the background only intensified her desires. She wanted to follow him, to satisfy the ache that was building within her.

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to shake off the desire still coursing through her. She was frustrated by her reaction to him, torn between wanting to give in to her impulses and knowing it was a bad idea to go down that road.

The sound of the shower still running echoed around her, the water droplets creating a steady rhythm that only seemed to heighten her tension. Trying to distract herself, she looked around their room, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

The room was simple and masculine, its furnishings sparse and practical. There were a few personal items, like a framed photo on the nightstand and a book left open on the shelf nearby. But there was no hint of a woman's touch, no feminine accessories or decorative items. Clearly, Elliot lived a solitary life.

The sudden silence from the bathroom told her he was done with his shower. She held her breath, her heart pounding in her chest, anticipating his return. The silence felt thick with tension, a silent challenge between them.

She heard him stepping out of the shower, the faint shuffling of him drying himself off. Her mind filled with images of his muscular chest still dripping with water, the towel moving across his skin…

Olivia got up from the bed, her legs slightly shaky. Her stomach was still a bit unsettled, but she needed to feel clean, to wash away the remnants of the night before.

Elliot emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, steam rising from his body. He halted as he saw her standing there, eyes raking over her.

As she disappeared into the bathroom, the door closing behind her, Elliot was left standing there, his eyes still fixed on the space where she'd been. Her scent lingered in the air, a subtle mix of her perfume and something else, something distinctly her.

Olivia closed the bathroom door behind her and leaned against it momentarily, trying to gather her thoughts. The small room was still warm and humid from Elliot's shower, and her skin tingled at the reminder of his presence.

Stripping off the pajamas Elliot had put on her the night before. She tossed them into a heap on the floor. She glanced at herself in the mirror, the reflection showing the signs of her rough night. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes slightly bloodshot, and her skin pale with fatigue.

Stepping into the shower, she let the hot water cascade over her body. It felt soothing and reviving, washing away the physical exhaustion of the night before but doing little to ease the emotional turmoil within her.

As she shampooed her hair, her mind drifted back to Elliot, in the room just on the other side of the door. She couldn't help but wonder what was going on in his head if he was as conflicted as she was about what was happening between them.

Finishing with her hair, she began soaping up her body, the suds gliding over her skin. The sensation was sensual, and she couldn't help but remember how his touch had felt on her skin. Her body ached in response to the memory.

Shutting off the water, she stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. Her body still thrumming with desire and confusion, she wrapped the towel around herself and opened the bathroom door, stepping out into the bedroom.

Elliot was working on his laptop at his desk, his gaze snapping to meet hers as she emerged. The sight of her, clad only in the towel, stirred something in him. There was a hunger in his eyes as he looked at her. The towel did little to conceal her curves.

He could see the way her body was responding to his gaze, the way her chest rose and fell slightly faster, the way her towel hung just somewhat lower than it should. He wanted her badly but refrained from acting on it, forcing himself to maintain his composure.

She knew she should cover up and find some clothes to put on, but she couldn't bring herself to move. How he looked at her, the heat in his eyes was almost hypnotizing. Against her better judgment, she let the towel fall to the floor, standing there naked before him.

She felt vulnerable and exposed but also powerful. She could see the effect it had on him, how his hands clenched the edge of the desk, and how his breath hitched. But Elliot didn't move from his spot. He continued to watch her, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her. “The clothes Taylor bought for you are on the bed.”

Olivia broke eye contact for the first time to glance over at the neatly folded clothes on the bed. Her voice was shaky as she spoke, her body still feeling the aftereffects of his gaze. “Thank you.” She picked up the clothes and began to get dressed in front of him, feeling him watching her every movement.

As she slipped into the jeans and shirt, she could feel the weight of his stare, its intensity almost palpable. She finished dressing and stood in front of him once again, her hair still damp from the shower. “You look beautiful,” he said.

Olivia felt her cheeks flush at his words. His gaze made her feel both desired and vulnerable. “Taylor has good tastes,” she managed to say, her heart still racing. The air between them was thick with tension, and both were aware of their growing attraction.

As he stood leaning against the desk, she couldn't help but notice his muscles ripple as he moved. "What are you doing later?”

The question was casual, but the subtext was anything but. Olivia tried to keep her reaction under control, but the sound of his voice and the way he was looking at her were causing her heart to beat faster again. "I'm working until 7 p.m.," she said finally, trying to match his cool demeanor.

He pushed off from the desk, taking a step closer to her. “I’ll have Taylor pick you up then.”

The fact he was already planning to see her later sent another wave of desire through her. She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

He took another step closer, now standing so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. He lifted his hand, gently grazing his thumb over her lip. “I would like to bite that lip.”

The feeling of his touch sent chills through her, his words making her heart race. "I think I'd like that, too," she whispered, her voice trembling.

He moved his hand, “I’m not going to touch you. Not until I have your written consent,” he stated, his voice rough with desire.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat at his words. The idea of giving him that kind of control over her was both thrilling and scary. She swallowed hard, her mind racing with the implications. "What?" she asked, her voice low and shaky.

He didn't answer, his gaze still on her, reading her reaction. His hand was still hovering near her face, the heat from his skin so close to hers that it was almost tangible. "I’ll explain later. Come. I’ll take you home," he said firmly.

Olivia’s mind was still reeling from his words, her body humming with desire at the thought of what it could mean. But she pushed it aside, focusing on the present. “Okay,” she managed, her voice cracking slightly.

The ride down to the lobby was a tense silence. Olivia kept biting her bottom lip and staring ahead, but his gaze never left her.

His eyes locked onto her lips, watching as she chewed on the bottom one. Seeing it sent a wave of desire through him, making his restraint snap.

He stepped closer, backing her into the corner. His hands came up to cup her face, “f*ck the paperwork.”

Olivia gasped at the sudden move; her body pressed against the cool metal of the elevator wall. His hands on her face made her pulse quicken, the feeling of his rough skin against hers awakening a hunger in her that she couldn’t ignore.

His mouth crashed down onto hers, his lips hot and demanding. She responded immediately, her hands grasping his biceps. He grasps her wrists in one hand, holding them above her head.

The kiss was possessive and dominant, and she couldn’t help but respond kindly, letting herself get lost in the heat. His tongue slid into her mouth, tangling with hers. One of his legs pressed between her thighs, pinning her to the wall.

The elevator chimed as they broke apart, both gasping for breath as the doors slid open. A group of people stepped into the elevator, blissfully unaware of the heated moment they had just interrupted.

Olivia felt a mixture of frustration and arousal, her body still humming beneath the surface. She avoided looking at the other passengers, knowing her cheeks were flushed and her lips swollen.

Elliot stood beside her, his face giving away nothing of the passion that had just flared up between them. His body still seemed tense. His muscles coiled tight as if he was also holding back his urges. The other passengers stood in the elevator, chatting among themselves, making small talk about the weather and work, utterly oblivious to the electricity still crackling between Olivia and Elliot. “What is it about elevators?”

Olivia let out a shaky breath at his words, her heart still racing from the kiss. She didn't respond.

The elevator slowly ascended, the others in the compartment continuing their chatter. Elliot stayed close to her, his hand finding its way possessively on the small of her back. It was a subtle move, but his touch on her sent thrills through her body. She fought back a shiver, acutely aware of the heat radiating from him.

The cool air of the lobby felt like a shock after the heat of the elevator. They walked silently toward the exit, their strides matching in a way that spoke of some connection they both refused to acknowledge.

The doorman held the door for them as they stepped outside. The city was alive with noise and people, yet the air between them was still charged. Elliot guided her to his car, opening the passenger door for her.

She sat down gingerly, the memory of what had just happened in the elevator still vivid. He closed the door and circled to the driver’s side; his movements almost predatory.

As he got into the car and started the ignition, he glanced at her, his eyes locked onto hers. The silence between them was heavy, the air thick with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires. He started driving to her apartment.

The drive felt both too long and too short at the same time. Her heart was still racing, her body still humming with the aftereffects of the kiss. His presence beside her in the car was almost overwhelming, the memory of his hands on her skin, his leg between her thighs, making it hard to concentrate.

He parked the car outside her apartment building but didn't turn off the engine. The silence between them was palpable. There was so much unsaid, and tension left to be released.

She looked over at him, waiting for him to say anything. His eyes were intense, his jaw set. He was watching her, the look on his face unreadable. The moment felt charged with potential, like a bomb waiting to explode.

He reached out suddenly, grasping her wrist and pulling her towards him. His grip was firm, his touch possessive. He turned her so that she was facing him, her thighs straddling his on the driver's seat.

His free hand went around her waist, drawing her closer until their bodies were flush against each other. The position was intimate, their faces so close that she could feel his breath on her lips.

He leaned in, his mouth just a breath away from hers. She could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes were dark and intense, his entire being focused on her. “I’ll see you tonight. Email me if anything changes,” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse.

She shivered at the rough sound of his voice, her body responding to his proximity despite herself. “My computer is broken,” she whispered in response, her voice barely audible even in the closed confines of the car.

His grip on her tightened, his free hand brushing a strand of hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was surprisingly tender amid the lust and tension that filled the air between them. “Well, call then. I know you have my number,” he replied, his thumb tracing a slow path down her jawline. “Laters, Baby.”

The nickname that had never been said between them set off a fresh wave of desire in her. The sound of it coming from his lips was a mixture of possessive and affectionate, making her already racing heartbeat even faster.

She let out a shaky breath as he released her wrists, helping her exit the car.

She watched him drive away. The thought of waiting until later to see him was thrilling and torturous. She wanted him, every inch of him.

As she headed up to her apartment, she struggled to make sense of the maelstrom of emotions swirling within her. The last 24 hours had been a whirlwind, but one thing was sure: Elliot Stabler was a force she hadn’t expected, and the pull of him was almost too strong to resist.

She dressed for work, and the familiar routine helped her focus. Her mind was still on the events of the day, the feel of his hands on her body, his voice whispering in her ear. She tried to shake the thoughts away, concentrating on the fact that she would see him again soon.

She was all business when she entered the precinct. She nodded a quick greeting to the familiar faces of her fellow detectives, her face schooled in a professional mask. She settled in at her desk, determined to focus on her work, not the man who consumed her thoughts.

She threw herself into her work, the familiar routine of detective work helping to distract her. She fielded calls, followed up on leads, and worked on open cases. The hours ticked by, though they felt excruciatingly slow. Despite her best efforts, her mind kept slipping back to think about later.

As the workday drew to a close, she gathered up her belongings, saying goodbye to her colleagues as she made her way out of the precinct. Despite her best efforts to keep her thoughts in check, she couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation. The evening loomed ahead, and she would be seeing him soon.

Exiting the building, she spotted Taylor waiting for her, standing beside a sleek black car. She raised a brow but made her way towards him, her mind buzzing with a mix of curiosity and excitement about the evening to come. “Good evening, Miss Benson. Mr. Stabler will be joining us there.”

She didn't answer, simply nodding in acknowledgment. As Taylor held the door open for her, she slid into the backseat, her pulse quickening. She resisted the urge to smooth down her hair or check her makeup, knowing it was pointless. She'd see him again in a few minutes, and all else would fade away.

Chapter 4: The Proposition

Chapter Text

The car glided through the city, the urban landscape flashing outside the tinted windows. She fidgeted in her seat, her thoughts racing with anticipation. She wondered where he was taking her and what he had planned. Most of all, she wondered if she could control herself around him.

She raised a brow as the car stopped in front of an upscale building. Before she could ask any questions, Taylor opened the door for her, offering a hand to help her out.

She stepped out, her eyes taking in the posh surroundings. The building was elegant, the epitome of wealth and sophistication. She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

She followed Taylor as they entered the elevator, watching as he hit the button for the roof. The ride up was quiet, and the soft hum of the elevator was the only sound. She tried not to let her nervousness show.

As the lift glided to a stop, the doors slid open, revealing Elliot standing next to his helicopter.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He looked every bit the suave, charismatic man he was, his navy suit hugging his body just right. His eyes were focused on her as she stepped out of the elevator, his gaze intense and appreciative.

She walked towards him, and he opened the door to the helicopter, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Good evening, Olivia.”

The intimacy of the act was almost overwhelming. She slid into the seat. He walked around the other side, climbing in next to her. “What… You’re flying this?”

He responded with a smirk as he reached across to buckle her in. She let out a shaky breath as he adjusted the straps, his fingers brushing against her stomach. The touch is seemingly innocent, but she could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension between them building.

As he finished buckling her in, he murmured, “No escaping now.” he turned to the controls. Her heart was beating so fast that it was almost painful. She watched as he expertly maneuvered the helicopter, the engine roaring to life.

The helicopter rose into the air, the ground falling away beneath them. Below, the city was a sea of lights, a beautiful, sparkling landscape. She felt a thrill as they ascended, her heart rate even more elevated.

She turned her head, her gaze meeting his. In the intimate space of the helicopter, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them. His eyes locked onto hers, holding a mixture of desire and intensity.

She found herself drawn to him, unable to look away. The helicopter's roar faded to background noise as the electricity crackled between them. His presence was like a drug, and she was already addicted.

She swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. The tension in the air thickened, and the space between them charged with almost palpable energy. She could feel his gaze on her, burning into her skin like a physical touch.

He expertly navigated them through the air above the New York City skyline before circling to land atop the building housing his penthouse.

As the helicopter touched down on the building's roof, she could hear her own heart thudding in her ears. He expertly shut down the engine, the noise ceasing as abruptly as it had started. The sudden silence was deafening, the air buzzing with unspoken words between them.

He unbuckled his seat belt and reached across to release hers. His fingers grazed her stomach again, sending a jolt of electricity through her. He was so close now, their bodies almost touching.

She looked up at him, her breath catching at the proximity. “Is this where you live?”

His eyes were smoldering, his gaze intense. “Most of the time.” His features were sharp, almost predatory in the dim light of the helicopter. The tension crackled between them like a live wire, the air thick with anticipation. “So, you have two homes in the city?”

He exited the helicopter and then opened the door to her side. He offered her his hand, helping her out of the helicopter. “I have several properties all over. The one from this morning I use for business.” They stood on the roof, the wind whipping around them. He kept hold of her hand, his grip possessive.

He led her towards the elevator, his hand on the small of her back guiding her body. His touch was possessive yet gentle, his fingers lightly caressing her even through the fabric of her clothes. She could feel his warmth emanating from him, starkly contrasting to the cool night air. She swallowed thickly, “And this one?”

The elevator arrived with a soft ding, the doors opening. Elliot gestured for her to enter first. He followed behind her, and the space suddenly felt even more confined. He leaned in, the breath from his mouth hot on her neck. “I use this one for pleasure and… pain.” She could feel his body heat behind hers, his scent surrounding her. Her breath hitched in her throat as he spoke.

He pressed the button for the penthouse, and the elevator started its descent. She could feel his eyes on her back, his gaze heavy. The silence between them was thick. The air crackled with palpable tension. She was hyperaware of his presence, her mind whirling with anticipation and desire.

She shifted slightly, the movement bringing her body in contact with his. The touch was brief but powerful, sending a shiver through her body. She could feel the hard planes of his chest against her back, his body close yet not close enough. Her breath hitched in her throat, her body responding in ways she couldn't control.

The elevator came to a stop, the doors opening into his penthouse. Elliot placed his hand on the small of her back again, guiding her out.

Olivia looked around, taking in the luxurious surroundings. The penthouse embodied elegance and wealth, with every piece of furniture and artwork carefully curated. Everything about the space screamed Elliot Stabler - powerful, refined, and unapologetic.

He gestured towards the open-plan living room, his mouth curving into a smile. "Would you like a drink?”

She nodded, her throat dry. "Yes, please." The thought of alcohol might help calm her nerves, though part of her was afraid it would just lower her inhibitions even more in his presence.

He stepped into the kitchen, leaving her to roam the space. Her eyes fell on a grand piano nestled by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She carefully ran her hand across it, “Do you play?”

He glanced up from the liquor cabinet where he was preparing their drinks, “Yes.”

She giggled, “Of course you do.” The image of him behind the keys of the piano, his fingers moving over the keys, was surprisingly erotic.

He chuckled, walking over to her now at the dining table, two wine glasses in hand. He sat them down on the table and began to pour. "Have a seat.”

She sat in one of the chairs, her body language slightly off. She was still on edge, her nerves not entirely calmed. She took note of the papers lying before her. “What’s this?”

His gaze flicked over to the papers on the table, then back at her. His expression was nonchalant, “A nondisclosure agreement.”

She looked at the papers again, her brow furrowing in confusion. She picked up the documents and began skimming through them. "A nondisclosure agreement?"

He nodded, his eyes on her, observant and intense. "Yes, it means you cannot discuss anything about us with anyone. I’m afraid my lawyer insists on it.”

She looked up at him, the meaning of his words slowly sinking in. “I’d never talk to anyone about us anyway.”

She sighed softly, taking the pen from him and signing the papers. Her heart was in her throat as she signed the final page, and the agreement's implications were not lost on her.

He placed the pen and papers aside before pouring a generous amount of wine into two glasses. "Drink."

She took the glass he handed her and took a large sip, the liquid sliding down her throat in a warm, soothing burn. It didn’t do much to calm her nerves, but it gave her something to focus on – anything besides the man sitting across from her, his gaze so intense it was practically burning a hole through her.

He nursed his wine, his movements unhurried and controlled. His gaze was trained on her face, observant and slightly predatory. She couldn’t help but feel like prey in his presence - a feeling that should've been disturbing but was somehow thrilling instead.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, the only sound the soft ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. She could feel the tension building between them, the air charged with unsaid words and suppressed desires.

He sipped his wine, his gaze never leaving her figure. He seemed to be studying her, waiting for something – but what? It made her anxious yet also curiously aroused. Finally, he spoke, breaking the silence. "Two things you should know. First, I don't make love. I f*ck. Hard.”

Her breath caught in her throat, his words sending a jolt of desire through her body straight to her core. The bluntness of his words shocked her yet also excited her. She took another sip of her wine, trying to hide her reaction, but she knew he had noticed. “And the second thing?”

He stood, his hand reaching out towards her. “Come.”

She placed her hand in his, her body almost on autopilot. His touch sent a jolt of electricity up her arm, elevating her heart rate. He pulled her to her feet, bringing her body close to his. She was enveloped in his presence, his heat, and his scent.

He led her up the stairs, his hand keeping her close to him. The hallway was dimly lit, the soft lighting creating a sense of intimacy. She could feel her breath catching in her chest, the anticipation building as they walked.

He stopped in front of a large, black door that looked solid and impenetrable. “It’s just beyond this door. My playroom. It’s important that you know you can leave at any time.”

Her heart was in her throat as she looked at the door. This was it. This was where it all began. She swallowed hard, trying to gather her thoughts, "Why? What’s in there?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

She watched as he removed a key from his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate. He said, “I meant what I said. Taylor is on standby and ready to take you whenever you want to go.”

Her pulse quickened, her nerves on edge. “Elliot, just open the door.”

He twisted the key in the lock. The click of the mechanism unlocking seemed loud in the quiet hallway. Her eyes widened as the door swung open, revealing a room that looked straight out of her darkest fantasies.

The room was large and cast in a red hue. The walls were blood red. There were various furniture pieces in the room, some of which she recognized – a spanking bench, a St. Andrew’s cross, a large bed adorned in blood-red leather, and a bondage chair. Every item, every object, was designed with a single purpose in mind - to give pleasure and, sometimes, pain.

“Oh, my God.” Her eyes roamed the room, taking it all in. It was intimidating yet arousing, and her mind spun with the possibilities it offered. She could feel his gaze on her, watching her reaction as she entered the room.

He leaned against the wall, folding his arms across his chest as he watched her. Elliot observed her reaction, gauging every movement and expression on her face. She stepped further into the room. He closed and locked the door before following her.

The click of the lock echoed in the room, increasing her heart rate even more. Olivia was alone with him in a sealed playroom room. There was no escape now. She stopped at the array of whips hanging by the bed, gently running her hand down one.

The feel of the leather against her fingers sent a shiver through her body. She turned to find him watching her, a small smile playing on his lips. "It’s called a flogger," His voice was low, almost a purr.

She swallowed, her throat dry. "I know what it’s called." She ran her fingers down the leather again, the feel of it both enticing and frightening. This was all so new to her, yet she found herself drawn in, like a moth to a flame.

She continued her exploration of the room, her eyes falling on the spanking bench. She could imagine herself bent over on it at Elliot's mercy. The thought should've scared her, but instead, it only excited her even more. She touched the wood of the bench, and the feel of it was cool under her fingers.

Elliot moved closer to her, standing right behind her now. His breath was hot on her neck as he said, “Say something. Please.”

Her heart was racing. The feeling of him so close behind her was overwhelming. “Do women do this to you or…” Her voice was shaky, betraying her nerves.

He chuckled, the sound low and dark. He leaned down, his lips practically on her ear now. “No. I do this with women—women who want me to.”

She shivered, her body reacting to his words, his nearness. “You’re a dominant?” He placed a hand on her hip, his touch firm and possessive. “Yes.”

She felt a thrill run through her as he confirmed it. It was like all her darkest fantasies come to life. “And I’d be your submissive?”

His fingers tightened on her hip, his grip almost painful. “Yes. To please me.”

A wave of lust washed over her at the possessiveness in his voice. He wanted her, and he wasn't afraid to show it. Still, a tiny part of her, a rational part, was still struggling to hold onto some control. She turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his. “And what about me? What about my needs?”

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his touch surprisingly tender. “I have rules. If you follow them, I’ll reward you. If you don't, I’ll punish you.”

She couldn't help but shiver at the thought of his ‘punishments.’ She could only imagine what they would entail, what he would do to her. She swallowed, shaky but determined, “You’d punish me?”

He reached up to cup her cheek, his fingers tracing down her skin. “Yes.”

Her cheeks burned under his touch, the heat of his palm seeping into her skin. This was all unreal, yet somehow, she was drawn further into his world. “What would I get out of this?”

He pulled her closer, his chest pressed against her back now. She could feel the heat emanating from his body. “Me.”

They stepped out of the room, the thick door closing behind them with a soft click. The hallway was blissfully quiet; the only sound was their footsteps on the marble floor. She felt like she was in a dream, her mind swirling from the intensity of the moment in the playroom.

He guided her down the hallway, his hand on her back, steering her towards another door. The anticipation was overwhelming, and her body buzzed with adrenaline as they approached the door. He opened it, revealing a large bedroom with soft, cream-colored walls.

He stepped into the room, gesturing for her to follow him. “If we were to do this, this would be your room. You can decorate it however you like.”

She stepped into the room, her eyes falling on the large bed in the middle. It was covered with a simple comforter, and the room was clearly meant for just sleep. She looked around the room, taking in its simplicity and understated elegance. "You want me to move in?" she asked quietly.

He walked further into the room, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I think it would be more convenient for both of us.”

Olivia nodded, her mind spinning. This was so much to take in. She walked to the window, drawing back the curtains. The view was amazing, the city lights sparkling below them. “And I’d sleep in here with you?”

He came up behind her, his hands on her hips, his chest against her back. “No. I’d be downstairs. I told you, I don't sleep with anyone.”

She leaned back into him, the feel of his body against hers sending another wave of heat through her. This man was a walking contradiction: dominant, yet almost tender, possessive, yet holding himself separate. It was both confusing and captivating. “What if I don't want anything to do with that?”

He tightened his grip on her hips, his voice low and stern. “I would understand completely, but this is the only sort of relationship I have.”

She turned her head to look at him, searching his face. He was deadly serious, the lines of his face as hard as granite. This wasn't something he'd compromise on. That much was clear. “Why?

He paused, his eyes meeting hers. There was a flicker of something in his gaze, something almost like pain, but it was gone before she could fully register it. “It's just the way I am.“

She studied him for a moment longer, wondering what lay behind that statement. There was so much about him that she didn't know, so much depth behind his fierce exterior. She wanted to ask more and pry deeper, but she could sense he wasn't ready to reveal his reasons. “Can we negotiate?” she asked quietly.

His grip on her hips loosened, his hands now simply resting on her. She could feel his surprise at her question, clearly not expecting her to push further. “I already have a contract prepared. It’s fairly detailed. You would review it, and we would negotiate what you are and are not willing to try.”

Olivia took a deep breath, steadying herself. This was starting to feel more real by the second. “How could I know what I'd be willing to try?”

He pulled her around so she was facing him, his hands on her upper arms. His eyes bore into hers, the intensity of his gaze almost challenging her. “Let me show you,” he said.

She was momentarily taken off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. Elliot was all business now, his tone firm and commanding. Yet there was something more beneath his hardness, a hint of something almost gentle. She swallowed, the thought of what he could ‘show’ her both terrifying and exciting.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was a low, gruff rumble, sending a shiver down her spine.

She obeyed, her heart rate increasing as she shut her eyes. Without the ability to see, her other senses were heightened, the sound of his breathing and the feel of his hands on her skin all more intense.

“Good.” His hands slid down to her hips, pulling her even closer. She could feel the heat of his body radiating against her, a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. “I’m going to kiss you now. Keep your eyes closed.”

She nodded, her lips parting as she felt his breath on her face. Her heart was racing, the anticipation almost too much to bear. She felt his lips brush against hers gently, a featherlight touch that sent electricity coursing through her body.

Elliot deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving up to cup her face, the other still firmly on her hip, holding her captive. His tongue slipped into her mouth, a slow, languid invasion that made her knees weak. She grabbed his arms, steadying herself as the world spun around her.

He pulled her even closer, pinning her body against the wall. His kiss grew more intense, almost frantic, his tongue exploring her mouth with a nearly desperate need. She felt his hardness against her stomach, his desire for her apparent and undeniable.

His hands roamed her body now, roaming over her curves, his touch almost possessive. He broke the kiss, his lips moving to her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive skin. She gasped, her head falling back against the wall, her legs trembling.

He continued his assault on her neck, his teeth nipping at the skin, his tongue soothing the pain. His hand slipped under her shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on her stomach. She arched into his touch, her body responding on pure instinct.

Elliot’s hands moved further up, pushing her shirt up and exposing her skin. He broke the kiss, his lips moving down to her stomach, his tongue tracing a path down her quivering flesh. She couldn't help but allow a moan to escape from her lips despite herself.

He reached the waistband of her pants, his fingers fiddling with the button. Olivia sucked in a breath, her eyes still closed as she felt his fingers slowly undoing her pants. His mouth returned to her stomach, planting hot, wet kisses all over her abdomen.

Elliot’s hands tugged at her pants, pulling them down her legs. She shivered as the cool air hit her skin, her body exposed to him for the first time. His hands moved back up her legs, his touch almost worshiping, running over the skin of her thighs.

His mouth followed his hands, his lips trailing kisses up her thigh, his tongue teasing, his teeth nipping at her skin. He spread her legs wider, his hands gripping her hips, pulling her closer to him.

She let out a soft gasp, her whole body shaking now. She was teetering on the edge of something, that familiar heat coiling in her core, building with every touch, every kiss. And then, he suddenly stopped, his mouth leaving her skin. She whimpered at the loss of his touch, a protest forming on her lips.

“Eyes open,” he commanded, his voice rough with suppressed desire. Olivia opened her eyes, her vision hazy with need. His face was inches from hers, his eyes burning with a mixture of lust and something else, something that looked almost like possessiveness.

He lifted her up, her legs automatically wrapping around his waist, her arms encircling his neck. He carried her to the bed, his muscles flexing under her weight. He laid her down on the bed, her body sinking into the plush comforter.

Elliot laid down on top of her, his body pressing her into the mattress, his lips finding hers again. His kiss was even more intense this time, his tongue tangling with hers as if he was trying to claim her, to mark her as his. She gave in, all rational thought leaving her as she let herself be consumed by the fire he was igniting in her.

His hands roamed her body, his touch almost reverent as he ran his fingers over her skin. He worshipped every inch of her, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. She arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips, begging him for more.

He moved down her body, his mouth trailing down her stomach, his tongue tracing her hipbone. He bit down gently, leaving a little mark on her skin. She whimpered, her body arching off the bed, desperate for him to continue.

Elliot’s mouth moved further down, his hands spreading her legs wide. She was trembling now, her body a quivering mess of need and desire. He looked up at her, his eyes meeting her gaze, a silent challenge in his expression. She met his look, her desire and defiance mirroring his.

He lowered his head, his mouth finding her c*nt. She cried out as he began to taste her, his tongue moving over her cl*t, his teeth gently scraping her skin. She bucked against him, lost in the sensations he was evoking, her hands finding his head, holding onto him as if he were a lifeline.

Elliot continued his assault, his tongue driving her to the brink of madness. She was close, so close, her body tense and taut, a coiled spring on the edge of release. And then, just as she was about to tumble over the edge, he pulled away, his mouth leaving her body.

Olivia protested, a noise of frustration and need escaping her lips. She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his, begging him to finish what he started. He looked back at her, his eyes dark with desire, a slight smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re not coming until I say so,” he said, his voice hoarse with need. His words sent a shiver down her spine, her body still trembling with unfulfilled need. She opened her mouth to protest, to beg, but he cut her off with a fierce kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, claiming her once again.

He broke the kiss, his mouth moving down her neck, his teeth nipping at her skin. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails leaving faint marks on his skin. She felt like she was on fire, her body humming with desire, begging for release.

“Please,” she whispered, her voice raw with need. “Please, I’m so close.” Her body was on the edge, the coil inside her so tight it was almost painful.

“No.” He planted a kiss on the hollow of her throat, his mouth moving lower. “You come when I say you come. Not before.” Elliot nipped at the skin above her breast, his teeth leaving a small mark.

She let out a strangled moan, her body arching off the bed, her hips pressing against his. She was so unbelievably close, but she knew he wouldn't give her what she needed until he was ready.

He chuckled, the sound deep and rough, enjoying her desperation. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his lips against her skin. “All needy and desperate for me.” He ran his tongue over her breast, circling her nipple, his hands gripping her hips, holding her still.

She let out a soft cry, her head thrown back against the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut. She was lost in him, in this moment, her mind blank except for the sensations he was causing. She was teetering on the edge of oblivion, desperate for him to push her over.

Elliot pulled back, denying her the friction she so desperately needed. “Look at me,” he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. Olivia opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. He smirked at her, his eyes full of desire and something else, almost like satisfaction at her desperation.

“Beg for it,” he said, his voice a low growl. “Beg me to let you come.” He leaned down, his mouth finding her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “Beg me, and I might consider it.”

Her pride wanted to protest, argue, and tell him to go to hell, but the desire was too strong. She was at his mercy, her body thrumming with need and desperation. “Please,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “Please, I need it. I need you to let me come, please.”

He chuckled, pleased by her plea. “You’re so good when you beg,” he murmured, his mouth moving down her body again. “And you look so beautiful when you’re desperate. I could keep you like this all night if I wanted to.”

Olivia whimpered at his words, her stomach clenching at the thought. She knew he could keep her on the edge all night, and the thought excited and frustrated her. “Please, I need to come,” she gasped, her hands fisted in the sheets, her back arching.

He moved down her body, his mouth finding her cl*t again. She let out a strangled moan, her body shaking with need. He licked and sucked, his tongue driving her to the edge again, his hands holding her hips down, preventing her from moving. “Not yet,” he said, his mouth moving away from her once more.

She let out a frustrated cry, her body still trembling with unfulfilled need. She was so close, so unbelievably close, but he was tormenting her, denying her the release she craved. “Please, I need to come,” she pleaded, her voice desperate and pleading. “Please, I can’t take anymore.”

He smirked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. “You’ve been very good so far.” His hands tightened on her wrists now above her head, his tongue tracing a path down her neck. “I think you deserve a reward.”

She let out a shuddery gasp, her body arching against his, her skin hot and flushed. “Please,” she whispered, her voice a low, needy moan. “Please, let me come.” Olivia was begging now, her dignity long gone. She needed to come. She needed the release that only he could give her.

Elliot chuckled, his mouth finding her ear. “You’re so desperate, so lost in your need,” he murmured. “It's almost too easy to control you. Almost.” He bit down on her neck, his teeth leaving a mark on her skin. “But you're being so good, so obedient. I think I’ll let you come.”

She let out a shuddery gasp, her entire body trembling with need. She felt him move, his body shifting, his hips positioning themselves between her legs. She opened her eyes, looking up at him, pleading with him without words. “Please,” she whispered, her voice soft and desperate. “Please, I need it, I need you, I need you so much.”

He leaned down, his mouth near her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “I want you to say my name when you come,” he whispered, his voice a low, possessive growl. “I want to hear you moan my name over and over again. Can you do that for me, Olivia?”

She shivered at his words, her body responding involuntarily to the tone of his voice. “Yes,” she gasped, her voice a desperate plea.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his hands releasing her wrists, his fingers trailing down her arms, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Now, hold on tight.” He adjusted himself, his body poised above hers, his muscles tensing in anticipation.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers digging into his skin, her body trembling with need. She met his gaze, her eyes wide with desire and anticipation. “Please,” she whispered, her voice almost a sob. “Please, I need you now.”

“Shhh,” he murmured, his voice soothing but filled with command. “I got you. Just relax.” He ran his hands down to her hips, his fingers gripping her skin, his touch possessive and insistent.

Olivia took a deep breath, her body trembling with anticipation. She relaxed as much as she could, her body submitting to his every movement. She felt him at her entrance, his hardness pressing against her but not entering her. He held himself there, poised on the edge. “Look at me,” he commanded his voice a low, rough growl.

She met his gaze, her eyes a mixture of need, desire, and a hint of defiance. His eyes were darkened with his need, his expression intense and possessive. He leaned down, his mouth near her ear. “Beg me to f*ck you,” he whispered, his voice a low, guttural sound. “Beg me to make you mine.”

Her body trembled again, a wave of desire surging through her at his words. Her pride wanted to resist, but the need, the absolute overwhelming need for him to take her, was too strong. “Please,” she whispered, her voice a soft, needy moan. “Please, f*ck me. Make me yours.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with approval and desire. He thrust into her, hard and sudden, filling her in one quick motion. She let out a cry, her body tightening around him, her nails digging into his back.

He groaned, the sound guttural and primal. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough growl. He started to move, his hips meeting hers in a steady rhythm, his movements deep and powerful.

She gasped at his words, the sounds escaping her almost involuntarily. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive and buzzing, her mind consumed with pleasure and need. She couldn’t think, couldn’t form coherent thoughts, could only feel the sensations he was causing.

He kept up his steady rhythm, his body moving perfectly with hers. Elliot had total control, setting the pace and the intensity. She was completely at his mercy, responding to his every touch and movement.

She could feel the pressure building, the coiled heat in her stomach getting tighter and tighter. She was so close, but she needed just a little more. “Please,” she gasped, her voice a low, needy moan. “I’m so close.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough purr. “Just a little longer. Hold on for me. You can do it.” His movements became more intense, his thrusts harder and faster.

She was so close, so unbelievably close, but he was still holding her back, denying her the release she desperately needed. Her body was quivering, her skin hot and sensitive, every nerve ending alive and buzzing. “Please,” she begged, her voice a low, needy moan. “Please, Elliot, I need to come.“

He chuckled, the sound low and rough. “Now,” he whispered, his voice a low, commanding purr. “Come for me now.” His grip on her hips tightened, his body pressing against hers, his thrusts deep and powerful.

Her body shuddered, a wave of pleasure washing over her as she came undone. Her c*nt contracting around his co*ck, her cries of pleasure muffled against his shoulder. She rode the wave of pleasure, her body shaking and quivering as she slowly came back down to earth.

He held her close, his body still moving against hers, riding out his climax. He held her firmly, his embrace possessive and protective. “You did so good,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper. “You were such a good girl for me.”

Olivia let out a shaky breath, her body still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure. “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice breathless and soft. She felt utterly boneless, her mind a hazy mess of pleasure and satisfaction.

He chuckled, a low, rough sound, his body still pressing against hers. “You're welcome,” he murmured, his voice gentle and rough at the same time. Elliot ran his hand over her hair, his touch a mixture of possessive and tender.

She snuggled into him, her body seeking the comfort and security of his embrace. “I feel good,” she murmured, tired and content. “Like I’m floating on a cloud.“ She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of his skin, letting the warmth of his body against hers soothe her weary muscles.

Elliot held her closer, his arms encircling her, his body protecting her. “You should rest,” he murmured, his voice gentle but commanding. “You did so good for me tonight. So good. Now, you need to rest.”

She sighed softly, her body relaxing further into his embrace. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy. “I’ll rest. As long as you stay with me.“

He held her tighter, his arms encircling her more possessively. “Only for tonight,” he murmured, his voice gruff.

She snuggled even closer, her body molding to his. “Okay,” she murmured, her voice drowsy but content.

He held her, the silence of the room only interrupted by their breathing. He knew he shouldn’t let himself stay next to her. He should untangle himself from her and leave her to rest. But he couldn't bring himself to do it. Olivia fit too perfectly in his arms, her body so soft and warm against his. This woman was changing him.

She dozed in his arms, her breathing deepening as she drifted asleep. He watched her, his eyes fixed on her face, taking in the peaceful expression that stole over her features. In sleep, she looked younger and more vulnerable. The weight of her job and her responsibilities slipped away, leaving her looking softer and more innocent. He knew it was an illusion, but he couldn’t help but want to see more of this version of her.

Elliot allowed himself to stay there, holding her while she slept. He knew he shouldn't get too used to the feeling of her body against his, the sense of her in his arms. He knew he had to keep his distance and keep his guard up. But at this moment, with her asleep in his arms, it was hard to remember why he was the way he was.

Eventually, he slipped out of bed and through the penthouse, his footsteps silent on the floors. He made his way to the living room, the only light in the apartment coming from the moon and city lights streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. He let out a sigh as he sat at the grand piano. This was a mistake. He was getting too attached to her.

He ran a hand over his hair, the action a frustrated gesture. He shouldn't have let her fall asleep in his arms. He shouldn't have let himself get this close to her. He could still smell her on his skin, feel her weight in his arms. He shouldn't be thinking about her like this or feeling this way. He was a dominant, and she was hopefully his submissive.

He let out a tired sigh, his hand playing a sad melody on the piano. He needed to pull himself together. He needed to remember who he was and what he was about. He needed to be ruthless, not soft. He couldn't allow himself to be weak. But looking back into the bedroom and seeing her sleeping so peacefully, he wondered if it was already too late.

Olivia stirred, woken by the sound of the piano keys. Her eyes fluttered open, her mind still hazy from sleep. She took a moment to get her bearings, slowly shaking off the fog of sleep. She rolled over, her eyes fixed on the empty space beside her. Elliot was gone. A pang of disappointment flared in her chest, but she refused to acknowledge it.

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, the sheets pooling around her waist. She could hear the sad notes wafting in from the other room. She hesitated, debating whether to get up and go towards the sound. She shouldn't care that much, she told herself.

But she couldn’t ignore how her heart quickened at the thought of him being out there. She hated that he had this effect on her. She didn’t want to feel this way. Her chest tightened, an almost painful feeling of longing settling in her chest. Olivia knew she shouldn’t go, but she couldn’t stop herself.

She pushed herself off the bed, wrapping the sheet around her as she exited the bedroom.

She padded quietly towards the living room, the sound of the piano getting louder as she approached. She paused in the entryway, her eyes on him sitting at the grand piano. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sight of him making her breath catch in her throat.

She watched him for a moment, her eyes tracing the lines of his body, the muscles shifting under his skin as he played. She couldn't help but admire him—his broad shoulders, his strong hands, and his body tense and focused. Her heart was pounding in her ears, a mix of longing and trepidation stirring inside her.

He looked up, his eyes locking with hers. The sight of her standing there in nothing but the sheet, her hair slightly mussed from sleep, sent a jolt of desire shooting through him.

She moved closer to him, the sheet trailing behind her, her feet bare on the cool marble floor. He looked at her, his eyes dark and intense, his gaze roaming over her body.

Olivia stopped in front of him, her eyes fixed on his. She could feel the electric tension in the air, an unspoken current running between them. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind tangled with desire and uncertainty.

She let the sheet fall, the fabric pooling around her feet, leaving her completely bare before him. His eyes darkened, a flash of primal lust crossing his features. He couldn’t help but rake his gaze over her body, taking in every dip and curve, every inch of her exposed skin.

She straddled his lap, her bare body pressed against his still-naked form. She could feel the hardness of his thighs beneath her and the warmth of his body. Her skin tingled where their bodies touched, a shiver running through her as her body responded to him.

Olivia placed her hands on his chest, her fingers tracing over the muscles there, feeling the heat of his skin under her fingertips. She could feel the power and strength in his body, the way he was coiled tight with desire.

Her eyes met his, a heat building in her core as she looked into his dark blue, hungry gaze. She could feel his hands on her waist, his grip possessive and greedy. Her body was already on the edge, a coil of pleasure winding tight inside her.

Her eyes flicked to the soulmate mark on his forearm, her hand trailing over the familiar mark. Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of it, and her heart rate picked up. "Your soulmate mark..." she murmured, her voice soft and breathless.

She continued to run her fingertips over the mark, tracing the lotus pattern on his skin. "It’s the same..." she paused, her voice trailing off, her thoughts racing.

She was trying to process the sight of his soulmate mark. Olivia looked up at him, her eyes meeting his again. Something intense was in his gaze, a hunger and possessiveness that made her shiver.

"We’re soulmates...?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. The words held a power that made her heart race, a feeling of excitement and uneasiness stirring inside her.

Her hand stayed on his arm, her fingers still tracing the mark as if to confirm it was real. She could feel his body tense under her touch, the air heavy with the implications of this.

Olivia was torn between wanting to pull away, to deny what it meant, and wanting to lean into it, to give in to the desires that were coursing through her body. His fingers gripped her waist tighter, his touch possessive and almost claiming.

"Yes." His voice was low and rough, with a hint of possessiveness. His eyes were darkened with want and need, and his body tense under her touch. "We’re soulmates."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body closer to him. His arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against his chest. Their bare skin pressed against each other, igniting a fire of desire in them both.

Olivia shifted her hips, rising up slightly, her body seeking more friction. Elliot’s hands moved back to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, guiding her movements. His breathing was ragged, his eyes glazed with desire.

She could feel his hardness pressed against her, his desire for her clear. She lowered her head, her lips seeking his, her tongue darting out to taste him. Elliot’s mouth met hers, the kiss hot and desperate, a primal need taking over them both.

His hands roamed over her body, his touch hungry and impatient. He wanted all of her and needed her in an almost feral way. "You're mine." He growled against her mouth, his voice rough and possessive. "Only mine."

She gasped at his words, a thrill going through her at the possessiveness in his voice. "Yours," she breathed, her body already responding to his touch, her mind hazy with desire. "I'm yours."

Her nails dug into his shoulders, her body arching against his. She needed him, needed him like she needed air. His mouth moved down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, marking her as his.

She tilted her head back, a moan escaping her lips as his mouth explored her skin. Her body was on fire, her every nerve ending alive and buzzing with pleasure. She clutched at him, her body desperate for more.

She sank down on him, her body taking him in. Her breath hitched as he filled her, the pleasure almost overwhelming. "Oh god..." she breathed, her voice a whimper. Her body trembled, adjusting to the feel of him.

Elliot held her hips, his hands guiding her movements. "You feel so good." He groaned, his voice strained with pleasure. "So perfect." He wanted to take his time, to drive her mad with pleasure and need, but he was already losing control.

She began to move, her body rocking against his. She set a steady pace, but it was hard to keep control. His hands were on her hips, his mouth on her neck; the pleasure was intense and all-consuming.

"God, Elliot." She gasped, her head thrown back, her body arching into his. Her movements grew more urgent, more desperate. Her body wanted more, needed more.

He could feel his control slipping, his body responding to hers in ways he’d never experienced before. He lifted her hips, pulling her down harder, faster as they both grew closer to release.

"Come for me." He whispered, his voice rough with need. “Right now," he practically commanded. His body was tight, coiled on the edge, and he needed her to go over the edge with him.

Her body obeyed his command, the pleasure ripping through her as she climaxed. She cried out, her body shaking with the force of the pleasure. She clutched at him, her nails digging into his flesh. “Elliot… god… yes…” she breathed, her voice ragged with pleasure.

He followed moments after, his body shuddering as he found his release. He groaned, his hands clenching on her hips, pulling her down hard as he spilled inside her. He buried his face in her neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

They stayed like that for a moment, panting and breathless, their bodies sweaty and sated. She rested her forehead against his, her eyes closed as she tried to catch her breath. Her body felt boneless, pleasure still buzzing through her veins.

He held her gently, his hands moving over her back, soothing and caressing her skin. He pressed soft kisses to her neck, her jawline, her forehead. "I don't do this," he murmured, his voice low and hesitant.

She opened her eyes, looking at him, her gaze soft and still a little hazy. "Don't do what?" She asked, her fingers gently tracing over his cheek.

"I don't let myself get close to people," He said, his hand moving to her face, his thumb tracing over her bottom lip. "I don't make love. But with you..." He trailed off, his eyes searching hers.

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, something deep and powerful stirring in her chest. "With me?" Olivia echoed softly, her voice almost a whisper. The look in his eyes was a mixture of fear and vulnerability, something she'd never seen from him before.

"With you, it’s different." He admitted, his voice gruff. He cupped her face in his hands, his eyes fixed on hers. "With you, I feel things I've never felt before. Things I've never let myself feel."

Her breath caught in her throat, her mind racing with his confession. She’d seen hints of the connection between them that was deeper than anything she’d experienced before, but to hear him admit it out loud was something else. Her chest tightened, her heart feeling both full and aching at the same time.

"You're like a drug," He continued, his voice low and rough. "Something I can't resist, no matter how hard I try. I tried, and god help me if I ever have to try again."

She held his gaze, her heart thundering in her chest. She could feel the weight of his words, their honesty and vulnerability. "Elliot," she began, her voice thick with emotion. “I feel it, too."

His eyes darkened, his fingers tightening on her face. "I've tried to let you go," He said, his voice a raw whisper. "I just can’t. It's no use. You're under my skin, in my head, in my every waking thought."

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her heart overflowing with his words. She reached up, her fingers brushing over his lips. "I don’t want you to let me go," she whispered, her voice quivering. "I don't know if I can bear it if you did."

Elliot pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her, holding her tight. "I won't," He vowed, burying his face in her neck. "I can’t. You’re changing me. You’ve changed me.”

She held onto him, her body molding against his, seeking comfort and reassurance. "What about the contract?" she asked, her fingers running over his hair.

“To hell with the contract,” He muttered, raising his head to look at her. His eyes blazed with determination. “It’s over, done. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest, hope and trepidation battling inside her. "What do you mean?" She asked, pulling back slightly to look at him properly. "You’re willing to just... let it go?”

He nodded, his grip on her tightening. "Yes," he replied, his voice firm. "For you. We’re soulmates, Liv. We can explore that world together. We don't need a contract to agree to it.”

Her breath caught at his words, her heart swelling with hope and fear. "But… what if… I don't please you the way you need," she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “What about the Red room?”

His hands moved to her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. "You're already pleasing me, Liv," He assured her. "In ways I never knew I needed. The Red Room?" He repeated, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "We can explore that together, on our own terms. We don’t need a contract for that either.”

Tears welled up in her eyes. Her heart filled with emotions. She’d never expected this—this side of him, the vulnerable, open, emotional side. Hours ago, he was dead set on a contract and separate rooms, but now.

"Promise me something," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Promise me you won’t pull away. You won’t shut me out or push me away when things get hard."

His expression softened, his eyes locking onto hers. "I promise," He vowed. "I’m all in. Every bit of me. I won’t shut you out and pull away, no matter how hard it gets."

Olivia searched his face, looking for any hint of hesitancy or doubt. But all she saw was sincerity and determination. Her heart fluttered in her chest, a mixture of relief and elation coursing through her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him fiercely, pouring all her emotions into it.

He kissed her back just as fiercely, his arms wrapping around her and pulling her close. Their lips moved together, desperate and urgent. He wanted to express everything he felt and knew he'd been fighting since he met her.

Elliot pulled back, his hands framing her face as he looked at her, a mixture of awe and disbelief in his eyes. “You’re mine,” he whispered, his voice a rough growl. “And I’m never letting you go.”

She shivered as his words washed over her, the possessiveness in his voice sending a thrill through her. "I’m yours," she breathed, her hands clinging to his shoulders. "And I don’t want you to let me go. I want to be with you all the ways I can be."

He captured her mouth in another hard kiss, his hands sliding down her body to grip her hips. He pulled her closer, his body already responding to hers again. He’d been holding back for so long, burying his feelings, telling himself he didn’t need this. But now that he had it, he couldn’t get enough. “Liv,” he muttered against her mouth, his voice rough. “Let me take you to the Red room.”

She shivered at the command, something deep and primal responding to it. She'd never felt like this before, so completely claimed and wanted. "Yes," she whispered, her hands clenching on his shoulders.

Chapter 5: RED

Chapter Text

He lifted her in his arms as if she weighed nothing, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carried her out of the room. He carried her down the hallway, his mouth trailing kisses down her neck, his hands gripping her tightly.

He unlocked the Red Room, carrying her over to the bed and setting her down gently on the leather comforter. He pulled back, his eyes taking her in, every dip and curve of her body.

She lay there, looking up at him, her heart racing with nerves and excitement. She felt exposed and vulnerable but also incredibly safe in his touch. Her hands fisted in the sheets as she waited, her body already responding to his gaze. “Elliot,” she breathed, her voice a mix of impatience and desire.

He knelt on the bed, his body hovering over hers. He looked down at her, his eyes dark with desire. He trailed his fingers over her body, tracing over her curves, his touch almost reverent. “Safeword is Red,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion.

She nodded, her breath hitching as his fingers trailed over her skin. She knew of his power, strength, and ability to dominate her completely. But she trusted him, that he would never push her too far. With him, she let herself be vulnerable, let him take the reins. “Red,” she repeated breathlessly.

He claimed her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, possessing her completely. He moved over her, pinning her to the bed with his body. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. “You belong to me,” he murmured, his hands roaming her body. “Every inch of you is mine.”

She arched against him, her body responding to his touch and his words. “Yes,” she gasped, her hands running through his short hair.

He continued his exploration, his mouth moving down to her collarbone, biting gently. He moved lower, his lips trailing over her chest. “I’m going to tie you up,” he murmured, his gaze flicking up to hers. “Is that okay?”

A shiver ran through her, a thrill of anticipation and excitement. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.

He walked over to the wall, pulling down a pair of handcuffs. He walked toward her, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Hands above your head,” he ordered, his voice brooking no disobedience.

She raised her arms, her wrists above her head. She looked up at him, her body taut with anticipation, her heart racing in her chest.

He quickly cuffed her wrists, attaching the cuffs to the headboard. He paused, studying her, taking in the sight of her, wrists bound and lying on the bed, entirely at his mercy. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roving over her body.

A rush of heat went through her at his words, the way he was looking at her as if he wanted to devour her. “Elliot, please,” she pleaded, her voice almost desperate. “I need you. Touch me.”

She watched as he returned to the wall, her body tense with anticipation. She tugged at the cuffs around her wrists, the helplessness of her situation both thrilling and frustrating. She knew he was prolonging this, drawing it out, making her wait.

He returned to the bed, his eyes roaming over her. “These are thigh cuffs and ankle cuffs.”

The cuffs left her arms stretched above her head. Her chest arched slightly. Her head is thrown back, her eyes watching him intently. He placed the thigh cuffs around each of her thighs. He kissed down her leg to her ankle, where he placed an ankle cuff before repeating his torture on the other leg before clipping the ankle cuffs to the bed strap.

Her breaths came short and fast, her body trembling with desire and need. She's completely bound now, her legs spread open, her body taut and exposed. Her heart raced, her mind awash in a sea of desire and anticipation. "Elliot, please," she moaned, her voice desperate and needy.

She watched as he picked up a soft leather whip, her heart racing in her chest. She'd never experienced anything like this before. She swallowed, her body tense and wary. "Elliot..." she whispered, her voice filled with both trepidation and arousal.

He moved over to the bed, his eyes locked on hers. “Do you trust me?” he asked the whip in his hand.

"I trust you," she replied immediately, her voice firm and confident. "Completely."

He reached up, his fingers brushing over her cheek, his gaze unwavering. “Close your eyes.”

Her heart hammered in her chest; she closed her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat. She's completely vulnerable, completely exposed, her body bound and at his mercy.

He moved away from her, his footsteps silent on the wood floor. She could hear the soft swish of the whip through the air, the tension building in her body. Then she felt the first touch of the leather, a light flick against her stomach. She inhaled sharply, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through her body.

The next hit was more brutal, a delicious sting on her thighs. She hissed, her body arching against the binds as she felt the heat and pleasure of every hit. “Remember your safe word, Liv,” he warned, his voice deep and commanding.

“I know,” she replied, her voice thick with desire. The next hit comes on her chest, a sharp thump against her breast. She moaned, the mix of pain and pleasure sending a rush through her body.

He kept up the onslaught, the hits harder and harder, the pain blending into pleasure. She's drowning in sensations, her body responding to every hit, every touch. He's pushing her further than she's ever gone before, making her feel things she'd never thought possible.

She's completely lost now, her mind solely focused on the sensations he's eliciting from her body. She's never felt so alive, so at his mercy, and she loves every moment. "Please, Elliot," she begged, her voice raw and desperate. "Please, I need you."

He dropped the whip, moving over her, his body hovering over hers. "You have me," he murmured, his lips trailing down her neck. "All of me."

His hands moved over her body, touching her, exploring her, igniting every nerve. "You're mine, Liv."

Her body responded to his touch, every nerve ending alive and singing with pleasure. "Yes," she gasped, her body arching into his touch, "Yours. I'm all yours."

He claimed her mouth in a hard kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, staking his claim. His hands roamed her body. His touch is both possessive and gentle. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping and sucking at her skin. “Mine,” he muttered, his voice thick with possessive desire.

Her breath hitched at the possessive tone of his voice, her body responding to his claim. "Yours," she agreed, the word leaving her lips in a gasp. She'd never felt so owned, so wanted, and she craved it, craved him.

He kissed down her body, his lips and tongue trailing over her skin. He reached her thighs, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh. She moaned, her body arching beneath his touch, the combination of pleasure and pain overwhelming.

His touch was almost torturous, prolonging her pleasure, taking her body to heights she'd never known. Her body was a canvas for his caresses, his kisses. "Elliot," she gasped, her voice desperate and pleading, "I need you. Please."

He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. "Not yet," he murmured, his voice firm. "I‘m going to make you come over and over until you beg me to stop," He returned to his slow, deliberate exploration of her body.

Her body was a live wire, every touch sending jolts of pleasure through her. She struggled against the bounds, wanting to touch and pull him closer, but she was helpless. “Please,” she begged, her voice a breathless plea.

He continued his slow, torturous exploration of her body, his touch deliberate and determined. He knew exactly where to touch, how to touch, to drive her crazy. His mouth moved over her body, his hands roaming her curves, prolonging her pleasure, taking her higher and higher.

She was drowning in sensation, the pleasure bordering on torture. Her body was taut. Her mind was a hazy whirl of need and desire. "Elliot," she moaned, her voice pleading and desperate, "Please, I need your mouth.”

He relented, his lips moving up her body until he reached her neck, his mouth claiming her pulse point. His hands continued exploring, and his touch was gentle and firm. He nipped at her earlobe. His breath was hot against her skin. “What do you need, Liv?” he asked, his voice a rough growl.

“Your mouth,” she gasped, her body arching toward him. “I need your mouth, please.” She was desperate, her body aching for release, for him.

He obliged, his kisses moving down her body until he reached her chest. His tongue and teeth teased her sensitive skin, his mouth bringing her pleasure and pain in equal measure. His hands continued their caresses; his touch was both teasing and torturous.

She was lost in a sea of sensations, her body overwhelmed by pleasure. Her mind was a haze of need and desire, her thoughts consumed by him and the pleasure he was giving her. "Please," she moaned, her body arching into his touch, "I need more."

He moved lower, his mouth hot on her stomach, his tongue tracing a path down her body. His tongue dipped into her navel, his teeth nipping at her hip bone. He was deliberately avoiding the one place she needed him most, prolonging her pleasure and leaving her on the edge.

She was writhing beneath him, her body begging for release. She’d never felt this on edge before, this desperate and needy. “Please, Elliot,” she begged hoarsely, her voice raw with desire. “Touch me, please.“

He smirked against her skin, his hands moving to her thighs, his touch feather-light. "Patience," he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "I'm going to make you come harder than you ever have, but you have to be patient."

“I can’t be patient,” she gasped, her body arching into his touch. “I need it…I need you…please.” Her every nerve screaming for release.

He relented, his fingers slipping between her legs, finding her core. He began to tease her, his touch light and exploratory. "Is this what you want, Liv?" he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

“Yes,” she moaned, her body arching into his touch. “God, yes…please…more…” She was lost in the sensation, her body a mass of aching need and desire. She’d never felt so raw, so exposed, and she wanted everything he could give her.

He slipped a finger inside her, the sensation both familiar and brand new. She moaned, her body welcoming him, greedy for his touch. He continued his slow, deliberate exploration, his touch both gentle and firm. He watched her face, relishing how she responded to him and how she came apart under his touch.

“Look at me,” he ordered, his voice low and commanding. She opened her eyes, her gaze locking with his. He watched her as he continued to touch her, taking her higher and higher. He watched the pleasure and desire play out on her face, reveling in her response.

She could feel her release building, her body teetering on the edge of something primal and powerful. "Elliot," she gasped, her voice raw and desperate, "please…I can't…"

"You can," he murmured in his gentle and firm voice. "Just trust me, Liv. I won't let you fall." His fingers continued their expert movements, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice low and rough.

Her body was taut, her mind a blur of need and desire. When she came, it was like nothing she'd ever experienced. Her body arched, her head thrown back, her body convulsing with pleasure. She was lost in a wave of sensation, her mind and body consumed by him.

He watched her come, his gaze fixed on her face, committing every moment to memory. When she finally came down from her high, she was panting and trembling, completely undone. He moved over her, his body covering hers, his weight pinning her to the bed.

Her body was pliant, boneless, her mind a haze of pleasure. She could feel him hard against her stomach, his body filled with a familiar need. "Please," she gasped, her voice rough with need. "I need you."

"I know," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I need you too." He kissed her fiercely, his mouth claiming hers in a rugged, possessive kiss. He was utterly lost in her, his body aching for her, his mind consumed by need.

She returned the kiss, her mouth meeting his with a desperate need. Her body was coming alive again, her senses heightening with every touch. She could feel the tension in his body, his need matching hers. "Please, Elliot," she gasped between kisses, “I need you now."

His mouth and hands roamed over her body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch was rough but gentle, his mouth hot and demanding. He claimed her body with a possessiveness that left her breathless.

His mouth moved down her body, his tongue and teeth leaving their mark on her skin. He kissed and nipped at her flesh, claiming her with a primal need. He was lost in her, his body and mind consumed by the need to possess her, to make her his.

She writhed under his touch, her body responding to his every move. She was a mass of sensation, her mind a blur of pleasure. His tongue teased her flesh, his teeth nipping at her skin as he continued his path down her body.

His mouth reached her c*nt, his tongue darting out to tease her. She gasped, her body arching into his touch, her hands still cuffed above her head. He continued his slow, deliberate assault, his tongue and fingers working together to take her to the edge.

Her body was trembling, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She was utterly lost in sensation, her mind a haze of pleasure and desire. She was desperate for release, her body pleading for more.

He could feel her tension, the delicious edge she was teetering on. He kept up his assault, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony. His touch was both gentle and firm, his mouth moving over her in relentless waves of pleasure.

She was trembling on the edge again, her body tensing with need. He could feel her struggling against the bonds, her body begging for release. “Come for me, Liv,” he growled against her flesh, his voice both a command and a plea.

His words sent a shockwave through her, and her body responded immediately. Her climax crashed over her, her body arching and her moans were guttural and raw.

He didn't let up. His mouth and fingers continued to work her through her org*sm, prolonging her pleasure. When she was finally spent, he stood to unhook her ankle cuffs from the bed strap and her handcuffs.

She lay limply on the bed, her body trembling and boneless, her mind a hazy blur of pleasure. He positioned her body at the end of the bed on all fours. He spread her legs, rehooking the ankle cuffs to the bed strap. “Reach between your legs.”

She did as he commanded, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. He hooked her handcuffs to the bed strap. Elliot took the soft whip back in his hand.

He let the whip trail over her flesh, the leather leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “Are you ready for more?” he asked, his voice a rough growl.

She nodded, her body responding to the feel of the whip. “Yes, please,” she begged, her voice hoarse with need.

He didn't hold back, and the first lash was more brutal than the ones before. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The sensation was familiar and new, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain.

The second and third lashes came in quick succession, their sting mingling with the pleasure that coursed through her body.

He continued his onslaught, the whip's lash followed by his hands' soothing touch. She had lost count of the lashes, her body a mass of sensation, her mind entirely focused on him.

The pain and pleasure mixed together, heightening her senses and leaving her completely exposed and vulnerable. She’d never felt anything like this, yet she trusted him implicitly. She knew he was in control, taking her to the edge but bringing her back.

He relented, the whip discarded. His hands ran over her body, soothing the stinging flesh. He was gentle, his touch caressing rather than dominating. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent. “So perfect.”

She melted under his touch, her body responding to his gentle caresses. She felt raw and vulnerable but also safe and loved. “Please, Elliot,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. “I want you.”

His heart clenched at her words, his need for her overwhelming. He moved over her, positioning his body behind hers. “I need you too, Liv,” he growled, his voice rough with desire.

He entered her in one slow, deep thrust. She gasped at the intrusion, her body still sensitive from her previous releases. He held himself still, allowing her body to adjust to him. “You okay?” he whispered, his voice thick with concern.

“Yes,” she gasped, her body stretched and full. “I’m okay.” She pushed back against him, her body greedy for more. “Please, move. I need you.”

He obliged, his body responding to the sweet plea in her voice. He began to move, his thrusts slow and measured. He was holding back his need for her, warring with the need to give her pleasure.

She could feel the tension in his body, his need for release warring with his self-control. She pushed back against him, her body demanding more. “Don't hold back,” she gasped. “I want all of you.”

His control snapped at her words. His thrusts became more urgent, more powerful. He pistoned into her, his need and desire for her consuming him. He was lost in her, his co*ck buried deep in her soaked c*nt.

Her body was responding to his, her need for him as primal and intense as his for her. She met his every thrust. Her body was demanding more. “Don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice raw with need. “Please, don't stop.”

He had no intention of stopping. His pace increased his need for her, driving him to the edge of control. “You're mine,” he growled, his voice rough and possessive.

“Yours,” she gasped. “I’m yours. Only yours. Please, Elliot…”

His body was taut, and his need for release became a fever pitch. He could feel her getting closer, her body tightening around him. “Come for me, Liv,” he growled. “Come now.”

That voice, his command, pushed her over the edge. Her body clenched around him. Her climax crashed over her like a tidal wave. “Elliot,” she gasped, his name a plea and a prayer on her lips.

His climax followed closely, his body convulsing as he spilled into her, his words a guttural growl. “Liv…God, Liv…” He collapsed onto her back, his body boneless and spent.

She was spent, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. But she could feel his touch; his hands roamed over her body, and his voice a low rumble in her ear. “I’m not done with you yet,” he growled, his mouth hot against her back.

The sight of the vibrator sent a thrill of anticipation through her exhausted body. He positioned it against her cl*t, the sensation of the vibrator a shock to her overstimulated body. “Elliot…” she gasped, her voice trembling.

He turned the vibration on low, the steady hum filling the air. “You like this, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice deep and rough. “You like being at my mercy, my control.”

Her body clenched in response to his words, her mind a blur of sensation. “Yes,” she gasped, her voice hoarse. “God, yes.”

He turned the vibration up a notch, increasing the intensity of the sensations. She was writhing under his touch, her body begging for more, begging for release. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered, his voice rough and reverent. “So perfect, so perfect for me.”

His words and the sensations from the vibrator were pushing her closer to the edge, her body a live wire of sensation. “Elliot, please,” she gasped, her voice a low, pleading moan. “Please let me come again. Please, God, please…”

He increased the intensity again, the vibrations setting her body on fire. “Not yet,” he growled, his voice firm and commanding. “You’ll come when I say you come.”

She whimpered at his words, her body on the edge of release, her mind a blur of need and desire. She was entirely at his mercy, her body his to control, his to command. “Please, Elliot,” she gasped, pleading and desperate. “Please, I need to come…I need to come for you.”

He could sense her desperation, her need for release. He loved seeing her like this, so lost in pleasure and need, so wholly his. “Come for me, baby,” he commanded, his voice deep and rough. “Now.”

Her body obeyed his command, her climax crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her body tensed and arched, her back arching, her head thrown back as a guttural moan escaped her lips. “Elliot!” she gasped, his name a plea and a prayer on her tongue.

He kept the vibrator in place, prolonging her release, drawing out her pleasure until she was a boneless, trembling mess in front of him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration.

She was utterly spent, her body trembling and hypersensitive. Her brain was mush, her mind a blur of pleasure and sensation. She could barely form words, her voice a breathless whisper. “Elliot…that was…God, that was incredible…”

He finally switched off the vibrator, setting it aside. He uncuffed her ankle cuffs and handcuffs.

She collapsed bonelessly onto the bed, every muscle in her body trembling. Her limbs were useless. He laid down beside her, wrapping his arms around her trembling form.

He held her close, his body solid and warm against hers. She nuzzled into his chest, seeking comfort and security. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

She nodded, her body still trembling. “Yeah,” she whispered. “Just…wow, El. Just…wow.”

He grinned at that, a co*cky, satisfied grin. “You’re amazing, Liv,” he murmured, his voice filled with admiration. “So amazing. And all mine.”

She blushed at his words, her heart swelling at the possessiveness in his voice. “All yours,” she whispered. “Always yours, El.”

She clung to him, her arms around his neck and her head burrowed into his shoulder. She felt vulnerable and exposed after the intensity of the ‘Red’ room, but she was also safe and cherished in his arms.

They made their way through the house, his body solid and steady as he carried her. The sun was just beginning to rise, bathing the city in a soft, pink-orange light. She looked up at him, her eyes full of love and trust.

They reached the bathroom, and he gently eased her legs down onto the cold tile. She trembled slightly, her body and mind reeling.

Elliot started the shower, adjusting the water to the perfect temperature. His hands were gentle on her body, and he guided her under the spray. She let the hot water wash over her, soothing her sore muscles and easing her trembling.

He soaped up a washcloth and gently cleaned her body, his touch tender and considerate. He seemed to understand that she was feeling vulnerable, and his touch was extra gentle, almost reverent.

She stood still under his touch, her mind and body still swimming in a hazy, pleasure-filled cloud. He washed every inch of her body, his touch almost worshipful.

He turned her around, gently rinsing the soap from her body. He kissed the nape of her neck, his lips soft and warm against her skin. “You okay, baby?” he whispered, his voice concerned.

She nodded, and her head fell back against his chest. Her hand dropped to his thigh. “Yeah,” she whispered.

He hugged her from behind, his arms wrapping around her damp body. “You’re so incredible,” he murmured into her ear, his voice low and rough. “So perfect, so goddamned perfect.”

She could feel his arousal growing against her back, the evidence of his desire pressed against her skin. She moved her hand from his thigh and began stroking him.

He gasped at her touch, his body immediately responding to her. “Liv…” he whispered, his voice a rough growl.

She loved the reaction she got from him and the power she had over him. She continued stroking him, her touch slow and deliberate. “You like that, baby?” she murmured, her voice sultry and seductive.

He was putty in her hands, his body responding to her every touch. He was lost in her, entirely at her mercy. “God, yes,” he groaned, his voice thick with desire. “Don’t stop, Liv. Please don’t stop.”

She grinned at his pleading, her hand increasing her pace. “I have no intention of stopping,” she told him, her voice a low, sultry whisper. “Not until you come in mouth.”

She turned in his arms, facing him. Her body was pressed against his, her hand still stroking him lazily under the spray of the shower.

He was panting now, his body taut and trembling. “God, Liv,” he gasped, his voice a low, guttural moan. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

She dropped to her knees in front of him, her eyes looking up at him through the shower spray, hunger in her gaze.

He watched her, his eyes dark and intent. “Liv…” he groaned, his voice thick with need. “God, you’re so goddamn beautiful on your knees.”

It was a power play, with them both knowing who was in control. But he was playing his part dutifully, submitting to her completely. “You like it?” she murmured, her breath ghosting over his skin.

He couldn't speak, his mind clouded by desire. He just nodded, his body taut. He was entirely under her spell.

She smiled at his helplessness, reveling in her power over him. She moved closer to him, her lips just millimeters from his co*ck. “Good boy,” she murmured, her voice low and sultry.

The praise and dominance in her voice had him on the edge of breaking. His body was trembling with need, his need for her consuming him. “Liv, please…” he gasped, his voice thick with desperation. “Please, don’t tease me.”

“Oh, but I think you love to be teased,” she cooed, peppering kisses along his hip. “I want to watch your face as you come in my mouth.”

His eyes fluttered closed at her words, his body arching into her touch. “God, Liv…you’re killing me…” He was barely holding on, his body trembling.

“That’s the plan,” she murmured, her lips moving even lower. Her tongue darted out, teasing him, tasting him. “I want to watch you lose control, completely unravel for me.”

His body jerked as her tongue grazed over his sensitive tip, a low, guttural moan escaping his lips. He was on the edge, teetering on the brink of release. “f*ck, Liv, please…”

She took pity on him, knowing that he was at his limit. “Shh, baby, take a breath,” she murmured, “I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you.”

Her gentle reassurance immediately made him relax, his body releasing some of the tension coiled tight inside him. He took in a shuddering breath, trying to come back to himself. “God, Liv…” he gasped, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re so goddamn perfect.”

She smiled as he relaxed, proud that she could bring him down from the edge like this. “I know, baby,” she murmured, her tongue darting out to taste him again. “And you’re all mine.”

“Only yours,” he gasped, his hands clenching involuntarily as her tongue lapped up his precum. “God, only yours. Always.”

She took him in her mouth. She moved slowly, teasingly, taking him to the edge and back again.

“f*ck, please…” he begged, his voice thick with need. “God, you’re gonna kill me.” His body was on fire, and the sensations she was igniting in him were nearly overwhelming.

He was barely holding on now, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, I’m so close, so close, so close…” he gasped, his voice thick with emotion and gratitude.

“That’s my good boy,” she whispered, her tongue and lips moving even faster now. “Let go for me, baby. Come for me. Let me see you lose control, completely undone for me.”

It was all he needed to snap the last restraint holding him together. “God, Liv…God…I’m gonna come…I’m gonna…gonna…aah…” He gasped out her name, his body bucking and shuddering. His cum shot down the back of her throat.

She kept up the gentle pressure, helping him ride out the aftershocks of his org*sm; her lips moved softly, sucking his co*ck, lapping up every drop of cum from him.

He breathed heavily, his body completely relaxed and boneless. He was trembling with the force of his org*sm, his heart thudding in his chest. “Goddamn, Liv, that…you… that was…I don’t even have words.”

She laughed at his breathless praise, feeling a sense of satisfaction at bringing him to such ecstasy. “That’s because I’ve left you speechless,” she teased, her lips curling in a smug smile. “I love that I can make you fall apart like that, baby. You look beautiful when you lose control, completely vulnerable and needy for me.”

He was still panting, his body struggling to catch its breath. “God, no one else can do that to me. Only you, Liv. Always only you.”

She nuzzled his neck, her lips brushing against his skin, peppering gentle kisses along his jaw. “I know, baby. You’re all mine. I’m not going to let anyone else touch you like that. I’m going to keep you completely under my spell, begging me for more.”

He shivered at her words, his body responding to the possessive tone in her voice. “God, I’m already addicted to you, baby. You’re in my veins. I’ll do anything you want, just say the word.”

“Mmm, I love hearing you say that,” she purred, her hands sliding up his chest, palming the muscles there. “You’re so strong, but you melt in my hands.”

“God, yes, baby,” he gasped, his body shivering under her touch.

She grinned at his compliance, loving that she had him completely under her control. “Always remember that baby,” she murmured, her lips brushing against his neck before stepping out of the shower.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, his gaze raking over her body as she dried off. “God, you’re so damn beautiful,” he gasped, his voice thick with desire. “I can’t even think straight when I’m looking at you.”

She smiled at his compliment, loving his admiring gaze on her body. “You’re not too bad yourself, baby,” she teased, her eyes raking over his muscular torso. “All that lean, toned muscle… I could look at you all day and not get tired of it.”

He was practically preening at her compliment, his ego boosted by her evident appreciation for his body. “God, I never get tired of watching you look at me like that.” He stepped closer, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so damn gorgeous, Liv. You have no idea what you do to me.”

With them both dried off, Olivia turned to face him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “As much as I’d love to stay here and have my way with you all day, we do actually have to go to work.”

He groaned at the reminder that they have responsibilities besides each other. “I know.”

She laughed at his reluctance, her expression softening into one of fond affection. “Trust me, baby, I’m not particularly thrilled about it either. But my Captain would kill me if I didn’t show up.”

He sighed, reluctantly accepting that they needed to get dressed for work. “Fine. But I’m driving you to the precinct before I go to the office.”

She smiled at his stubbornness, a flicker of fond annoyance crossing her face. “You do know I’m quite capable of getting myself to work, right? I’ve been doing it successfully for many years.”

“I know that,” he grumbled, his expression brooking no argument. “But I’d feel better if I drove you there myself. And if anyone is going to keep you safe, it’s going to be me.”

She rolled her eyes at his insistence but couldn't help the flicker of warmth that spread through her at his protectiveness. “Fine, you can drive me.“

He smiled at her acquiescence, feeling satisfied that he had won this argument. “Good. I’ll never forgive myself if something happens to you, Liv. I need to know that you’re safe, no matter what.”

She reached up and cupped his cheek, her expression softening into something affectionate. “I know, baby,” she murmured, her fingers sliding through his short hair. “And I appreciate your concern. But I can take care of myself, you know. I did before you came along.”

“I know you can,” he conceded, his expression turning sheepish. But you’re stuck with me now and don't have to anymore.” He grasped her wrist, gently pulling her hand away from his face to kiss her palm.

She couldn't help smiling at his confession, her heart skipping a beat at the tenderness in his gaze. “Oh, am I now?” she teased, her eyes sparkling. “Stuck with you, huh?”

He smirked at her playful tone, his grip on her wrist tightening as he pulled her closer. “Yeah, you are,” he affirmed, his voice low and possessive. “Soulmates, remember?”

She let out a soft huff of breath as he pulled her flush against him, her body molding instinctively against his. “I do remember,” she murmured, her arms encircling his neck. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

After they dressed, Olivia and Elliot headed out of his penthouse together, going to his car. He helped her into the passenger side, his hand resting on her lower back as he closed the door behind her. He walked around to the driver's side and got in, then took a moment to look at her, his expression soft and affectionate. "Ready to go?"

She smiled at his touch, feeling a warm, fluttery sensation in her stomach. She nodded. “As I’ll ever be, I guess. I just wish we didn’t have to go in at all.”

He chuckled softly at her reluctant reply. “I know, I feel the same way. But I have an enterprise to run, and you have criminals to catch.”

“I know, I know.” She fastened her seatbelt and settled back in her seat, her gaze lingering on him as he started the car.

As they pulled up to the precinct, Olivia felt disappointed that their time together was ending. But she knew they had responsibilities to take care of, even if they didn't want to. She unbuckled her seatbelt and glanced at him, a slightly wistful expression on her face.

He picked up on her slight change in mood, sensing her reluctance to part ways. He reached out and took her hand, his brow furrowed with concern. "Hey, you okay?"

She smiled at his concern and squeezed his hand reassuringly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just…I don’t want to go to work… Brian, my partner, he’s the one that told me he loves me and tried to kiss me the other night,” she admitted, a hint of trepidation on her face.

He stiffened at the mention of her partner’s name, his grip on her hand tightening protectively. “He’s the one I shoved off you at the bar?” he gritted out, his tone laced with anger and tension.

She nodded, a flicker of unease passing over her face. “Yeah. That was him. I didn’t have a chance to tell you before….” She trailed off, feeling a pang of guilt for not sharing the news with him earlier.

He let out a deep breath, trying to control his anger at the memory of the other man’s hands on her. “I can’t believe he works for Special Victims and would try something like that when you were drunk,” he growled, his expression dark.

She reached out with her free hand and laid it on his arm to soothe his anger. “Elliot, it’s okay. I’m fine, nothing happened, and I don’t think he’ll try anything again. I’m sure you made your point very clear to him.”

He sighed, some of the tension leaving his body at her touch. “I just can’t stand the thought of him putting his hands on you like that,” he muttered, his expression hardening with barely suppressed anger. “He’s your partner. He’s supposed to have your back and keep you safe, not try to take advantage of you when you’re drunk.”

“I know,” she said softly, her thumb rubbing soothing circles on his skin where she was holding his arm. “But me and Brian… we have history...”

He tensed back up at her words, his jaw clenching tightly. “What sort of history, exactly?” he asked, his voice tight with tension.

She winced at his tone, sensing his unease, but she knew she owed him an explanation. “Well, before I met you, we… hooked up… a few times…” she paused, searching for the right word. “I made a mistake. He wants more, and I don't.”

His expression darkened as she confirmed his suspicions, his grip on her hand tightening almost imperceptibly. “How many times?” he growled, his voice a low rumble.

She knew he was frustrated and jealous but didn’t shy away from his intense stare. “Four times,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it was a mistake. It shouldn't have happened. We’re partners.“

His jaw clenched even more tightly at her answer, his eyes narrowing as he grappled with his jealousy and anger. “Four times,” he muttered, his voice edged with tension. “And how long ago was this?”

She could feel his anger but met his gaze directly, not wanting to hide anything from him. “The last time was a few months ago before I met you,” she answered gently. But I swear, Elliot, that's all it was.”

His expression didn't soften at her reassurance. His jaw was still set in a hard line. “So, this guy who’s supposed to have your back as a partner also slept with you. How exactly is that supposed to work, Liv?”

Her brow furrowed at his harsh words, feeling a pang of defensiveness at his accusation. “It was a mistake, okay? We were both lonely, and it shouldn’t have happened,” she protested. “And it was before I met you. You can’t hold that against me, Elliot.”

“I’m not holding it against you,” he shot back, his tone still edged with anger. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around the fact that your partner, the guy who’s supposed to be your ride or die, is also your ex-lover. It doesn’t exactly make me feel comfortable, Liv.”

Her defensiveness gave way to guilt as she sensed the depth of his anger and jealousy. “I know it’s messed up, Elliot. And if I could take it back, I would. But we can’t change the past,” she said softly, her grip on his arm tightening. “You have to trust me, baby.“

He held her gaze for a long moment, his expression slowly softening at the earnestness in her voice. Finally, he sighed, his anger giving way to resignation. “I do trust you,” he muttered. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like the situation. I don’t like the idea of you being partners with some guy you’ve slept with multiple times.”

She let out a soft sigh of relief at his concession as she felt the tension in the car ease slightly. “I know, and I don’t blame you for being pissed about it,” she explained, her expression pleading for him to understand her position.

He reached out with his free hand and brushed his knuckles along her cheek, his touch gentle despite his lingering anger. “I’m not pissed at you, Liv. I’m just... I don’t like the idea of him still having access to you, knowing what it feels like to be with you.”

Her heart ached a bit at the pain in his voice, and she reached up to cover his hand on her cheek with her own. “Elliot, it’s in the past. I don’t want him anymore. I want you. You’re the only one I want.“

His expression softened further as she reassured him, her touch soothing his jealous rage. He huffed out a breath, his anger receding. “I know,” he muttered, his hand turning to capture hers. “But trust me, if he’s stupid enough to try something again, I’ll be more than happy to kick his ass.”

She let out a soft chuckle at his possessive declaration. Her heart swelled with affection. “I have no doubt about that, baby,” she assured him, squeezing his hand gently.

She sighed, feeling the weight of responsibility pull at her mood. “As much as I’d love to stay here and continue this conversation, I need to get upstairs…”

He sensed the reluctance in her tone, and his expression softened into a reluctant understanding. “I know, I know,” he conceded, his hand giving hers one last squeeze before letting go. “I’m walking you up to the squad room.”

She smiled at his protectiveness but rolled her eyes in mild exasperation. “I’m sure I’ll be fine on my own, you know,” she said, both touched and amused by his overprotective tendencies.

He raised an eyebrow at her comment, his expression challenging. “Humor me, Liv,” he replied, his tone leaving no room for argument.

With their conversation finished, both Elliot and Olivia exited the car. He took her hand in his, the possessive gesture feeling almost natural to them by now. They made their way to the entrance of the precinct, his hand lingering at the small of her back in a protective embrace.

They entered the precinct, with Taylor following closely behind. Olivia could feel the weight of responsibility settling over her shoulders as they stepped into the hustle and bustle of the squad room. He kept his hand on her back, guiding her through the maze of desks and detectives as they approached her desk.

They reached her desk, and Elliot reluctantly let go of her, his hand lingering on her waist for a few extra seconds before finally releasing her. She could feel the eyes of her fellow detectives on them, and she could almost hear the unspoken questions hanging in the air.

Fin approached them with a mix of curiosity and concern in his eyes. “Hey babygirl, who’s the suit?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Elliot even though everyone knew exactly who Elliot was.

Olivia let out an exasperated sigh, knowing precisely what Fin was doing. She rolled her eyes, a mix of fondness and annoyance, as she replied, “Fin, you know perfectly well who he is.”

Elliot's eyes danced with amusem*nt at Olivia’s reaction, and he stepped forward, offering his hand to Fin. “Elliot Stabler,” he introduced himself, his demeanor cordial.

Fin eyed Elliot for a beat, his expression assessing, before he shook Elliot's hand. "Fin Tutuola," he replied, offering a firm handshake back. "You're the rich architect guy, right?”

Elliot nodded with a wry smile. “That's me,” he confirmed, his gaze flickering momentarily towards Olivia.

Fin’s gaze followed Elliot’s, and he looked at Olivia with a raised eyebrow, clearly wondering what was happening between them. “So, what’s the deal with you two?” he pressed, his voice casual but laced with curiosity.

Olivia sighed, knowing Fin wouldn't let it go until he got some answers. “We’re… seeing each other,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of challenge, daring him to push further.

Fin’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but then he grinned, clearly enjoying the opportunity to pick on her. “Oh really?” he teased, crossing his arms over his chest. “Last time you mentioned Mr. Stabler, you were rather pissed at him.”

Olivia glared at Fin, knowing he was enjoying this too much. “Yes, I was. But things changed,” she replied her voice firm but tinged with defensiveness.

Brian couldn't help but chime in with his own comment. "Yeah, things changed when he broke up our kiss the other night," he quipped, his tone light but laced with a hint of jealousy.

Olivia's eyes widened in surprise at Brian’s words, and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She had expected some kind of comment from him, but not so directly in front of Elliot. “Brian!” she hissed, shooting him a warning glare.

Elliot bristled at Brian's words, his expression darkening with anger. He shifted protectively closer to Olivia, his hand subconsciously hovering near her waist as if ready to shield her from any further comments from Brian.

Sensing the shift in Elliot's mood and the tension in the air, Olivia placed a calming hand on his arm, silently trying to soothe his anger.

Brian caught the silent exchange between Olivia and Elliot, and he smirked co*ckily at Elliot. "What's the matter, man? Feeling a little protective, are we?" he teased, his tone smug.

As the tense exchange continued, Taylor watched the interaction with a mix of curiosity and professionalism, flickering his eyes back and forth between the group, ready to intervene if necessary.

Elliot's jaw clenched as he resists the urge to deck Brian in the face for his smartass remarks and co*cky attitude. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool for Olivia's sake.

Olivia could feel the anger radiating off of Elliot, and she shot Brian another warning look, silently warning him to stop antagonizing Elliot. “Knock it off, Brian,” she muttered, her voice low and laced with irritation.

Brian raised his hands in mock surrender, still wearing a smug grin. "Hey, I'm just stating the obvious," he replied, his co*cky attitude not diminishing in the slightest.

“No, you’re being an ass just like you were the other night,” Olivia shot back bluntly, her patience with Brian's co*ckiness running thin.

Elliot's lips twitched into a slight smile at Olivia's sharp reply to Brian, his anger somewhat soothed by her biting remark. He stepped closer, his arm looped around her waist protectively as he sized up Brian.

Brian noticed Elliot's possessive gesture and his smug grin faltered for a moment, replaced by a flicker of irritation. He didn't like how Elliot suddenly had his arm around Olivia, and his jealous streak began to flare up.

Brian narrowed his eyes at Elliot, sizing him up in a challenge. "Feeling a little territorial, are we?" he quipped, his tone biting. "You know, I'm not the only one who's f*cked her before."

Olivia felt the tightness in Elliot's hold and quickly intervened, placing her hand on his chest to get his attention. "Elliot," she murmured, her voice soft and calming. "Ignore him."

Elliot's gaze snapped down to Olivia, her touch bringing him back to the present and grounding him in her presence. He took a deep breath, trying to push back the possessive rage that was building inside him, and nodded briefly.

Sensing the tension in the air and the potential for further escalations, Munch stepped into the conversation. "Alright, alright, Cassidy, shut your mouth before the hovering man in black over there kicks your ass,” he said, his voice firm but friendly.

Fin nodded in agreement, silently backing up Munch’s words. Meanwhile, Taylor still stood guard near Elliot, silently observing the exchange.

Brian glared at Munch, but his gaze then flickered to Taylor, and his attitude changed slightly at the imposing presence of Elliot's bodyguard. He stepped back, his smart-ass attitude fading just somewhat in the face of Taylor's stern look.

Taylor returned Brian's glare with an impassive expression, his presence a stark reminder of Elliot's wealth and power. Despite his tough exterior, Brian knew he was no match for the heavily built and serious bodyguard.

A tense silence fell upon the group for a moment, the weight of Elliot's and Taylor's intimidating presence looming over them. Elliot's hand was still resting on Olivia's waist, his touch more possessive than protective now.

Elliot's gaze flicked back to Olivia, and he leaned close to her, his voice low and filled with a hint of possessiveness. "I’ll see you later, baby?" he muttered, his possessive side coming out as his eyes narrowed on Brian.

Olivia looked up at him, her expression fond and slightly amused. She nodded, her hand coming up to rest on his chest. "Yeah, you will," she assured him, her touch subtle but affectionate.

He captured her lips in a quick but possessive kiss, the gesture seemingly more for Brian’s benefit than anything else. As he pulled back, his eyes flickered to Brian, almost daring him to comment.

Olivia pulled away from the kiss, silently amused by Elliot's display of possession despite the tense mood. She glanced at Brian's annoyed expression and gave him a pointed look, silently reminding him not to make a scene.

Elliot's gaze never left Brian as he took a small step back, his hand sliding down from Olivia's waist to rest possessively on her hip.

Brian rolled his eyes at the possessive display but didn't say anything, knowing he was outnumbered and outgunned in this situation. Fin and Munch exchanged a knowing look, amused by Elliot's alpha male behavior.

Elliot didn't care about how he appeared; his possessive instincts were entirely in control. He ensured that Brian and everyone else understood that Olivia was his, and he wouldn't tolerate anyone disrespecting their relationship.

Olivia gave him a small smile, silently communicating that she understood and appreciated his protectiveness. “I’m fine, Elliot," she reassured him, her voice soft and gentle. "You don’t have to worry about me.”

Despite her reassurance, Elliot’s protective instincts were still in overdrive. He couldn't help but keep a close eye on Brian, his eyes still narrowed in a glare. “I know,” he muttered, his voice still low and rough. “Taylor will pick you up at 5 p.m. If something changes, call me.”

Olivia nodded, knowing she wouldn't win this argument with Elliot in this possessive mode. “I will,” she promised, her tone softening. “I need some of my clothes from my apartment.”

Elliot's grip on her hip tightens, his possessive nature rearing its head again. “Taylor will take you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for arguments.

Olivia nodded, “Okay, okay,” she said, secretly touched by his protectiveness.

Elliot kissed her forehead, his touch lingering longer than necessary. “I’ll see you later,” he muttered, his tone still laced with possessiveness. He finally released his grip on her hip and nodded briefly to the others before reluctantly stepping back.

Olivia watched him go before she glanced at the others, who were all looking at her with varying expressions of amusem*nt and disbelief.

Fin smirked, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Damn, Liv. You good?” he asked, a hint of surprise on his face.

Olivia rolled her eyes, her cheeks tinged a faint shade of pink. “Yeah, really good, Fin,” she said, her voice tinged with affection.

Fin snickered, clearly enjoying the situation.“You seem happy.”

Olivia smiled at him, her cheeks flushing even more. “I am. Happier than I’ve ever been,” she insisted, her voice slightly shaky.

Munch grinned and chimed in, his voice full of amusem*nt. “You’re dating a billionaire, and it looks pretty serious to me.”

Olivia sighed, resigning herself to the teasing from her colleagues. “Just shut up,” she muttered, her tone more playful than annoyed.

Munch chuckled, clearly enjoying teasing her. “Hey, can’t blame us for being impressed. I mean, I wouldn’t mind dating a rich man who buys me stuff.”

Olivia rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile slightly at Munch’s comment. “He’s not just buying me things. We’re in a relationship,” she stated, her voice a mix of defensiveness and affection.

“We can see that,” Fin chimed in, still smirking. “The way he gripped you, it looked like he was trying to claim you.”

Olivia shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “It’s just him being protective,” she replied, though there was a hint of truth in her words. “Elliot can get a little possessive sometimes.”

Munch chuckled, clearly enjoying the back and forth. “More like a lot possessive,” he teased.

Olivia rolled her eyes again; secretly, she loved Elliot’s possessiveness.

The rest of the day passed without any significant incidents. Olivia had a conversation with Cragen, who informed her that Cassidy was transferring and that she would be getting a new partner. After that, she spent her time working on some paperwork at her desk, her mind occasionally distracted by thoughts of Elliot. Her coworkers were still teasing her about the new relationship every chance they got.

Olivia tried to brush off their comments but couldn’t help but feel flustered by their teasing. She reminded herself that it was harmless banter and they were just messing with her. Despite their teasing, she knew they were happy for her deep down.

Olivia packed up her things as the day ended and prepared to leave. She was glad the day was over and that she could finally have peace and quiet. She said goodbye to her colleagues and headed out of the precinct, already looking forward to the weekend.

Chapter 6: Meeting the Family

Chapter Text

Three Months Later…

As she walked out of the precinct exit, Olivia's thoughts automatically turned to Elliot. She wondered what he was doing and if he was also thinking about her. She couldn't help but admit that she was falling in love with him.

She turned the corner and faced a familiar and unwelcome face - Brian Cassidy. “Hey, Liv.”

She could see Taylor waiting beside the SUV from the corner of her eye. Olivia crossed her arms, annoyance and irritation clear on her face. “What do you want, Bri?” she asked, her tone sharp.

Brian took a step closer, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Just wanted to talk,” he said, his voice annoyingly casual.

Olivia's irritation only grew. “About what, exactly?” she asked, her tone cold. She didn't have time for his games.

“You and Elliot,” he said simply, a hint of a smirk on his face. “Gettin’ pretty serious, huh?”

Olivia's eyes narrowed. “That’s none of your business,” she retorted, her voice firm.

Brian took another step forward, leaning in slightly. “Oh, come on, Liv,” he said, his tone teasing. “You’re dating the world’s most eligible bachelor. Can’t say I’m not surprised.”

She noticed Taylor as he began to walk toward them. Olivia's annoyance only grew at his teasing tone. “What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, her voice laced with irritation.

“Well, let’s see,” Brian said, pretending to mull it over. “He’s rich, powerful, good-looking, and let’s not forget he’s basically obsessed with you. You’re his new plaything.”

Olivia's anger flared at his words. “Don’t talk about him like that,” she snapped, her tone sharp. “You don’t know anything about our relationship.”

“Really, Liv?” Brian smirked, clearly enjoying the reaction he was getting out of her. “Everyone knows he’s possessive as hell. He’s almost got you moving in with him. Next thing you know, you’ll be pregnant and quitting your job.”

Taylor picked up pace as he took the stairs two at a time. Olivia's jaw clenched, but she tried to keep her calm. “You don’t know anything, Brian,” she said firmly. “And you have no right to speak about my life or relationship. So just drop it.”

Brian held up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay,” he said, still smirking. “Just sayin’, it wouldn’t surprise me if he had you barefoot and pregnant in six months.”

Olivia’s anger turned to disgust. “You're such a misogynistic prick, you know that?” she snapped, her voice full of disdain. “Elliot respects me and sees me as an equal partner. You, on the other hand, clearly think women are just props for men to control.”

Taylor finally reached them. His presence made Brian take a step back. “Everything alright here, Miss Benson?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Olivia gave Taylor a grateful look, silently thanking him for his timing. “Everything’s fine, Taylor,” she replied, forcing a small smile. She turned her attention back to Brian, her tone firm. “I need to go. Leave me alone.”

With that, Olivia turned and walked away, Taylor by her side. She didn't look back, not wanting to give Brian the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d gotten under her skin.

As she got into the SUV, she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Brian’s comments left a sour taste in her mouth, and she doubted her relationship with Elliot. She couldn't help but wonder if he was right - if Elliot was trying to control her.

But as she glanced out the car window and watched the city pass by, she pushed those doubts to the back of her mind. She trusted Elliot, she told herself. He was not some sexist jerk who was trying to trap her in some stereotypical housewife role. He was her equal partner, and she knew he loved and respected her even if they hadn't spoken those words to each other yet.

With that thought in mind, she straightened her shoulders and put on a determined face. She was not going to let Brian’s words get to her. For the first time she could remember, she was happy and in this relationship with Elliot because she wanted to be.

Olivia leaned forward in the seat to ask Taylor. “Does he know? About what just happened with Brian?”

Taylor kept his eyes on the road as he responded. “Mr. Stabler has been made aware, ma’am.”

She sighed, not exactly surprised by Taylor’s answer. “Of course he has,” she muttered. “Is he mad?”

Taylor glanced at her through the rearview mirror. “Mr. Stabler was not exactly pleased to hear the situation.”

Olivia’s stomach twisted a little at his words. She could only imagine how Elliot reacted to hearing that Brian was bothering her. “Did he say what he was going to do?”

“He asked me to bring you straight to the penthouse,” Taylor replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “He’s waiting for you there.”

Olivia’s heart sank slightly at the thought of facing Elliot’s reaction. She knew he would be angry, protective, and most likely possessively demanding. But she reminded herself that his reaction came from a place of concern and care, not control.

“I see,” she said quietly, leaning back in her seat. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the upcoming conversation.

As they approached Elliot’s penthouse, Olivia’s nerves only grew. She took another deep breath, reminding herself to stay calm and cool-headed no matter how intense Elliot got. She knew he could be fiercely protective but trusted him not to go overboard.

The SUV stopped, and Taylor turned to look at her. “Are you ready, Miss Benson?” he asked, his tone gentle.

Olivia gave him a quick nod. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Taylor,” she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Taylor simply nodded in response as he exited the vehicle, rounding it to open her door.

Olivia and Taylor rode the elevator up to the penthouse in silence. Olivia’s mind was racing as she mentally prepared for the conversation with Elliot. She knew he was going to be pissed, but she was determined to remain calm and composed.

Olivia stepped out as the elevator doors opened and was greeted by a familiar sight. Elliot was standing near the entrance, his handsome features set in a stern expression. His gaze locked onto her immediately, and the air was charged with his intense presence.

“Elliot,” she said, her voice steady despite the nerves thrumming through her body. She walked towards him, her steps firm and measured, only stopping to place her gun and badge in the safe.

His gaze didn't waver as he looked at her, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. She could practically feel the possessive energy radiating off of him. But there’s also a hint of concern and worry on his face.

She stopped before him, their bodies only a few inches apart. Olivia could feel the heat of his gaze. She lifted her chin, refusing to be intimidated by his intense stare.

He didn't speak for a moment, his gaze locked onto her face. He reached up, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. The touch was possessive and intimate, a silent claim on her.

Olivia’s heart raced at the touch, her stomach fluttering involuntarily. She knew she should resist his possessive tendencies, but a part of her couldn’t help but find a strange sort of comfort in it.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low. His concern was almost palpable, and his hand moved to cup her chin, tilting her face up towards him. His touch was gentle, but his gaze was intense.

She nodded, her voice steady. “I’m fine,” she said, her gaze meeting his. Her pulse was racing, but she forced herself to remain composed. “I can handle Brian.“

His jaw clenched at the mention of Brian’s name, and she could practically feel his protectiveness growing. “You shouldn’t have to put up with him,” he growled, his fingers gently tracing her jawline.

Olivia’s breath hitched at his touch, but she kept her voice firm. “No, I shouldn't. He hasn't been my partner in months,” she said, her voice laced with frustration.

Elliot’s expression faltered at her words, and she could see the concern in his eyes. “He shouldn’t be near you,” he said, his hand moving to cup the back of her neck.

Olivia tried to ignore the shiver that ran down her spine at his possessive gesture. “I agree, but I can take care of myself, Elliot,” she said firmly, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t need you to protect me.”

He let out a low growl, his fingers tightening slightly in her hair. “I know that,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to anyway.” He stepped closer, crowding her against the wall behind her.

Olivia’s breath hitched at the sudden proximity, and she tried to push down the flutter of desire that ignited within her. She knew she should put up a fight, but she found herself surrendering to his possessive touch.

His body pressed against hers, trapping her against the wall. His other hand cupped her jaw, forcing her gaze to meet his. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice a low growl. “And I’m going to protect what’s mine.”

Olivia’s heart raced at his words, her mind warring between her desire to be independent and her attraction to his possessive side. She tried to speak, to protest, but all that came out was a breathless gasp.

Elliot grinned at her response, his eyes darkening with desire. He leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. “You can fight me all you want,” he said, his voice low and possessive. “But we both know you love it when I get possessive.”

Olivia couldn't deny his words, even if she knew she should. She hated herself a little for how much she loved his possessive side, but she couldn’t help it. She let out a soft whimper, her hands coming up to clutch at his shirt.

He nipped at her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone. “You love it when I mark you as mine,” he said, his tongue tracing a pattern across her skin. “You love knowing that everyone else knows you’re mine.”

She gasped at his words, unable to deny the truth in them. She craved his possessive touch and loved the way he claimed her body and mind. Her hands move to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer. “God, Elliot,” she moaned, her eyes fluttering closed.

The sound of her moan only seemed to fuel his possessive fire. He lifted his head from her neck, his eyes dark with desire. He pressed in tighter against her, his body trapping her against the wall. “Say it,” he commanded, his voice low and rough. “Say you’re mine.”

She shivered at his tone, her mind and body submitting to his possessive will. “I’m yours,” she breathed, her voice slightly ragged. “Yours, Elliot. Only yours.”

Her submission only made him more possessive, more hungry for her. His hands moved down her body, holding her hips in a possessive grip. “That’s right,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear. “You’re mine, Liv. All mine.” His tongue snaked out, tasting the soft skin of her neck.

Startled out of their passionate exchange, Olivia felt her cheeks flush as she looked up at Taylor. Elliot, however, didn’t seem embarrassed at all. He kept one arm wrapped around her waist, his body still partially shielding her from view.

“Yes, Taylor?” Elliot said, his voice calm and composed as if he hadn’t been caught in a compromising position.

Taylor looked at them knowingly but maintained his professional demeanor. “Mr. Stabler, I apologize for interrupting, but your mother is on her way up.”

Elliot's body tensed slightly at the mention of his mother, though his expression remained outwardly neutral. “Thank you, Taylor,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of annoyance.

Elliot turned his gaze back to Olivia, his arm still around her waist. He silently apologized with his eyes, his hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.

Olivia squeezed his hand, silently conveying that it was okay. She understood the complexities of his relationship with his mother all too well. The sound of the elevator ding in the foyer prompted Elliot to release her, a reluctant movement.

The elevator doors opened to show Dr. Bernadette Stabler. Her eyes immediately find Elliot and Olivia.

Dr. Stabler stepped out of the elevator, her sharp gaze taking in the sight of her son with Olivia. Her eyes flickered over Olivia’s form, assessing her with curiosity.

Dr. Stabler approached them, her stride confident and purposeful. Her chin tilted upwards in a regal manner. “Elliot,” she said, her tone formal as she regarded her son. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Mother,” Elliot replied, his tone respectful yet slightly guarded. “This is Olivia Benson, my… girlfriend.”

Olivia offered a warm smile, her hand slightly trembling as she extended it towards Dr. Stabler. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Stabler.”

Dr. Stabler took Olivia’s hand, giving it a firm shake. Her eyes studied Olivia for a moment longer before a polite smile graced her lips. “Call me Bernie, dear. No need for formalities.”

Elliot observed the exchange between the two women, tension easing slightly from his shoulders.

“Thank you, Bernie,” Olivia replied, her nerves settling a bit. She knew the first impression was important, especially with this woman.

Bernie nodded, her eyes flickering to Elliot with a slight amusem*nt. “I‘ve never seen my son with a woman before,” she said, her tone tinged with curiosity.

A hint of a blush crept up Elliot's neck at his mother's comment. He had never allowed his submissives to meet his mother, but Olivia wasn’t a submissive. What they have was real. He wanted her to be in his life in every aspect.

He wrapped an arm around her waist again, possessiveness showing through the gesture. “Olivia’s different, Mother,” he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

Bernie's eyes softened as she saw her son's gentle display of possessiveness, the touch of a loving partner. Her demeanor changed slightly, and her expression showed a hint of approval. "I can see that," she said, a subtle smile curving her lips.

Olivia could sense the slight change in Bernie's attitude. It was as if she approved, or at least respected, the connection between her and Elliot. The tension in the room lessened as both women smiled at each other.

Elliot looked between the two women, his heart swelling with pride. He never thought he would see the day his mother would approve of any woman.

Bernie looked at the way her son held Olivia, the way he seemed to keep her close, as if afraid to let her go, and her heart softened even more. She had always worried about her son’s solitary and solitary nature, but Olivia seemed to bring out a different side of him.

She cleared her throat and spoke again, her tone less formal. “So, I came by to remind you that dinner is at 8 pm. Your sister is back from Italy. Olivia, you must join us.”

Elliot nodded, acknowledging his mother's reminder. "We’ll be there," he said, his voice still holding a hint of respect. He turned his gaze to Olivia, silently asking if she would be willing to come to dinner.

Olivia could sense the unspoken question in Elliot's eyes, the silent plea for her to accompany him to dinner. Despite the intimidating thought of meeting more of his family, she nodded, her heart swelling with the knowledge that he wanted her by his side. "I’d love to come," she said, soft but resolute.

Elliot's shoulders relaxed visibly, a slight tension leaving his body. He gave her a subtle squeeze, a silent thank you for agreeing to dinner.

Bernie smiled at the interaction, a hint of approval in her gaze. "Wonderful," she said, her tone slightly brighter. "I'm sure everyone will be eager to meet you, Olivia."

Olivia mustered a smile, her nerves fluttering at the thought of meeting more of Elliot's family, especially his sisters. But she steadied her resolve, the idea of standing by Elliot's side outweighing her doubts or fears. "I'm looking forward to it," she replied, her voice filled with nervousness and anticipation.

Bernie seemed satisfied with Olivia's response, her expression softening even more. She took a step back, preparing to take her leave. "I won't hold you two up any longer," she said, glancing between Elliot and Olivia. "I'll see you both tonight."

"Yes, Mother," Elliot replied, his arm still wrapped around Olivia's waist. He watched as his mother turned and walked towards the elevator.

Once Bernie stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind her, Elliot exhaled, his body relaxing slightly.

Olivia turned to face Elliot, her eyes searching his face. "So, I’m meeting the family," she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice but accompanied by a hint of excitement.

Elliot chuckled softly, pulling her closer to him. "You are," he confirmed, his hand gently caressing her back. "But don't worry, they're going to love you. How could they not?"

Olivia smiled, leaning into his touch. "I hope so," she said, her voice soft. "I want them to like me. Especially your sisters."

Elliot chuckled, his eyes sparkling with affection. "My sisters will adore you. They’re always on my case about needing a girlfriend. Now that I have you, they’ll probably never leave me alone."

Olivia laughed softly, the nervous butterflies in her stomach fluttering a bit more at the thought. "Well, I'll do my best to win them over," she said, her hand resting on his chest.

Elliot's hand continued its soothing motion on her back, the repetitive gesture calming both of them. "Just be yourself,” he murmured, his voice low and reassuring. "That's all you have to do to win them over."

Olivia nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. She took a deep breath, feeling her nerves settling slightly. "Alright, I can do that," she agreed, her hand tightening its grip on his shirt.

Elliot leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "You'll be fine," he whispered, his lips lingering against her skin. "And I'll be by your side the entire time."

The intimacy of his touch and the reassurance in his voice sent a wave of comfort through her body. She looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection and vulnerability. "I trust you," she murmured, her voice holding a deep sincerity.

Elliot's hand came up to cup her face, his thumb gently caressing her cheek. He looked into her eyes, his gaze soft yet intense. "And I trust you," he said, his voice low and firm. "We’re in this together, remember?"

Olivia leaned into his touch, her hand instinctively covering his. Her heart fluttered at his words, the trust and commitment in his voice filling her with a sense of security. "Together," she whispered, her voice filled with conviction. "Always."

Olivia fidgeted nervously, adjusting the hem of her dress for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a simple yet elegant pink dress, and she couldn't help but worry if she had looked good enough for such a substantial dinner.

Elliot was leaning against the door, watching her with a hint of amusem*nt. He walked over to her, his hands gently stopping hers from fidgeting. "You look beautiful," he said, his eyes roaming her form with unabashed admiration.

Olivia blushed at his compliment, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze. She glanced at herself in the mirror, taking in the way the dress hugged her curves, and her hair fell in soft waves around her face.

"You think so? I feel like I might be a little underdressed," she admitted, biting her lip nervously.

Elliot chuckled softly, his hands moving to rest on her hips. He gently pulled her closer, his body warm and solid against hers. "Trust me, you look incredible. You'll be the most beautiful woman there," he affirmed, his eyes locked on hers. "And besides, you could wear sweatpants and a hoodie, and you'd still be the most captivating woman in the room."

Olivia's heart fluttered at his words, the certainty in his voice helping to soothe her anxieties. She rested her hands on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart.

"You're biased," she said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

Elliot leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Maybe a little," he conceded, his voice low and playful. "But it's the truth. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, inside and out." His hands slid down to her lower back, pulling her even closer. "Now, stop worrying. They’re going to love you."

Olivia let out a soft sigh, his words and touch soothing her nerves. She rested her head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. "Okay," she whispered, her voice filled with determination. "I’m ready."

Elliot's arms wrapped around her, holding her tight for a moment. He planted a soft kiss on the top of her head before pulling back, his hand taking hers. "Then let's go," he said, a reassuring smile on his lips.

Olivia intertwined their fingers together, taking comfort in the feeling of his hand holding hers. They left the penthouse, heading towards the car Taylor had pulled around.

As they walked, Olivia's mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. How would his family react? Would they accept her? Would she live up to their expectations?

Elliot could sense her anxiety, though he knew she was trying to hide it. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, offering silent reassurance. He knew his family could be intense, but he also knew that if they took the time to get to know Olivia, they would see what he saw—her strength, kindness, resilience, and beauty, both outer and inner.

The car ride was mostly silent, but the tension in the air was palpable.

The car pulled up in front of a large house that screamed old money. Olivia's heartbeat quickened as she stepped out, her eyes taking in the home's grandeur.

Elliot's hand was warm against hers, grounding her as they walked up the steps toward the front door.

Elliot glanced down at Olivia, seeing the mixture of awe and nervousness on her face. He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze, silently telling her that everything would be okay.

He rang the doorbell, its sound echoing in the quiet evening air. They waited a few moments, the tension palpable, until the door swung open, revealing Bernie.

Bernie's face lit up at the sight of them, her eyes softening as she took in their joined hands. "You're here," she said, stepping aside to let them in. "I was getting worried you two would be a no-show."

Elliot chuckled, stepping into the house with Olivia in tow. "Sorry, Mother. Traffic was a bit heavier than we expected," he explained, still holding onto Olivia's hand.

Bernie closed the door behind them. Her gaze shifted to Olivia, scanning her from head to toe. "Olivia, you look lovely," she said, the statement holding a hint of approval.

Olivia felt a wave of relief at Bernie's comment, her heart fluttering at the subtle approval. She smiled, her free hand smoothing down the front of her dress. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft but genuine.

Elliot's thumb traced soothing circles on the back of her hand, the silent reassurance making her feel a bit more at ease.

As they moved further into the house, the sound of chatter and laughter grew louder. They entered a spacious living room, where a few people were already gathered, drinks in hand.

Everyone's conversations quieted as they noticed Elliot and Olivia's arrival, their gazes instantly turning to the unfamiliar newcomer.

Elliot smiled politely, wrapping an arm around Olivia's waist to pull her closer. He could feel the tension in her body, the nervous energy radiating off of her. "Everyone, this is Olivia," he said, his voice steady and proud. "My girlfriend."

A chorus of greetings rose up, a mix of surprised and pleasant reactions. One woman, Elliot recognized as his sister Sharon, stepped forward with a curious but friendly expression. "Girlfriend, huh?" she teased, her eyes flickering between Elliot and Olivia.

Sharon's eyes landed on Olivia, studying her with curiosity and appraisal. "And this is the first we're hearing about her," she said, her tone a little accusatory, though there was a hint of a smile on her face.

Elliot let out a sigh, his shoulders tensing slightly. He shot his sister a stern look, warning her to behave. "We've been together for a few months," he replied, his arm still wrapped around Olivia. "I wanted to wait until I was sure before bringing her to a family dinner."

The others in the room started to chime in with their comments, some friendly, some with a hint of skepticism.

Bernie, who had been watching the interactions, interjected with a firm voice. "Alright, that's enough," she said, quieting the room. "Give the girl some breathing room."

The room quieted, everyone's attention shifting to Bernie. Olivia felt a wave of relief at her intervention, feeling a bit more protected.

Elliot looked at his mother gratefully, silently thanking her for stepping in. His hand on Olivia's waist continued its soothing motion, silently asking her to remain calm.

Bernie nodded towards Olivia, her gaze softening. "Why don’t we all move to the dining room? Dinner should be served soon," she suggested, her tone warm and inviting.

Everyone murmured their agreement, and before Olivia knew it, they were heading towards the dining room. The table was already set, and the scent of food wafted from the kitchen, reminding Olivia that she hadn’t eaten all day, work and nerves making her stomach a mess.

Elliot pulled out a chair for Olivia, his hand lingering on her shoulder momentarily before sitting beside her. The conversations around them started again, a mix of casual and familial banter.

Bernie took her seat at the head of the table, signaling that it was time to start dinner. Once everyone was seated, she looked around the table, her gaze pausing on Olivia. "Olivia, you must be a bit overwhelmed, being here with this chaotic family of ours," she chuckled, her tone light and friendly.

Olivia could feel everyone's eyes on her, the weight of their gazes making her more nervous. But Bernie's friendly tone was a breath of fresh air, and Olivia relaxed slightly. "It's a bit overwhelming," she admitted nervously, "but I'm honored to be here."

Bernie smiled at her, the corners of her eyes crinkling. "We tend to be quite a lot to handle at times," she said, shooting a playful glance at her children. The others chuckled, no doubt thinking about past family gatherings.

Elliot, sitting beside Olivia, smiled. His hand resting subtly on her thigh was a silent gesture of support.

One of Elliot's brothers, Randall, chimed in, a teasing glimmer in his eyes. "Quite a lot is an understatement, Mama," he said, his tone good-natured. "I think ‘wildly chaotic’ would be more appropriate."

The table erupted in laughter, some agreeing and others defending their actions. Elliot rolled his eyes at his brother, his hand giving Olivia's thigh a light squeeze.

Olivia couldn't help but relax a bit more as the banter continued. The friendly bickering lightened the atmosphere, but there was still that underlying sense of nerves, the feeling that she was being sized up and that she needed to prove herself.

As dinner was served and small talk continued, Elliot's sister Sharon leaned across the table towards Olivia. "So, Olivia," she started, her tone casual yet inquisitive. "You're a detective in the SVU. That must be quite the job."

Olivia swallowed, her heart skipping a beat. She had known this question was coming, but it still made her stomach twist. She cleared her throat, willing her voice to stay steady. "Yes, it is," she replied, keeping her tone neutral. "It's challenging, but it's something I'm passionate about."

Sharon leaned back slightly, but her eyes were still on Olivia, studying her. "And how do you deal with the emotional toll?" she pressed, her tone gentle yet insistent. "Seeing the things you do every day must be tough."

Olivia shifted slightly, her shoulders stiffening. She knew Sharon wasn't just making conversation; she was probing, searching for something. She took a breath, her mind racing for the right words. "It is tough," she admitted, her voice firm but controlled. "Sometimes it feels overwhelming. But I've learned to compartmentalize, to separate my work life from my personal life."

Elliot's hand, resting on her thigh, gave a subtle squeeze, a silent show of support. He could see how she tensed, how the line of questioning was getting to her. But he knew she could handle it and didn’t want him to step in.

Sharon's gaze was intent, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And you're able to just switch it off when you leave work?" she asked, a hint of skepticism in her tone.

Olivia took another deep breath, her fingers fiddling with the silverware in front of her. She knew where this was going and needed to be careful with her response.

"It's not just about 'switching it off,'" she explained, her voice steady. "It's about finding healthy coping mechanisms, taking time for self-care, and having support from colleagues and loved ones. But no, I don't just leave it all at the precinct. Being a detective in the SVU means you carry that weight with you, whether you want to or not."

Elliot's thumb traced soothing circles on her thigh, proud of her response. The others around the table had gone quiet, listening to their conversation, and Elliot could see the subtle impressed looks on their faces.

Bernie, ever the mediator, interjected. "It's admirable, Olivia," she said, her voice gentle and sincere.

Olivia looked over at Bernie, her heart swelling at the older woman's compliment. It was small but a sign of approval, a hint of acceptance. She managed a slight but genuine smile. "Thank you," she said, her eyes darting to the others at the table, all watching quietly.

The conversation picked back up after that, the focus shifting away from Olivia. She could feel herself relaxing ever so slightly, the weight of the questioning no longer pressing down on her. Elliot's hand remained on her thigh, a constant reminder of his presence, his support.

As dinner wound down and dessert was served, Elliot's brother, Joey, addressed Elliot, his tone polite but interested. "So, El. You and Olivia seem pretty serious."

Elliot swallowed a mouthful of food, the question catching him a bit off guard. But he didn’t falter, his eyes flickering to Olivia before responding. "We are," he said, his tone confident and sure. "Very serious."

There was a mix of surprised and intrigued expressions around the table, with the occasional murmur of acknowledgment. DeeDee, Elliot's other sister, spoke up with a hint of a smile. "How serious, exactly?"

Elliot chuckled, shaking his head at his sister's persistence. He looked at Olivia, a subtle question in his eyes, asking if it was okay to speak up. Olivia nodded subtly, silently giving him the okay.

Elliot turned back to the table, a small, proud smile on his face as he responded. "Serious enough, I'm not planning on letting her go anytime soon if that's what you're asking."

A collective “aww” went up around the table, the women swooning at his statement. Elliot’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he could feel Olivia smiling beside him.

Bernie, never one to let a moment pass without interjecting, spoke up. "I always knew you had impeccable taste, Elliot."

The room filled with laughter, and Elliot just smiled, shaking his head. He could feel the weight lifting off Olivia's shoulders, her body growing visibly more relaxed.

The conversation shifted to other topics, and the dinner continued with easy banter and light conversation. Olivia even got pulled into a few conversations, her witty responses and charming personality winning over Elliot's family one by one.

As the dinner wore down and the evening ended, Elliot and Olivia said their goodbyes to his family, exchanging hugs and handshakes.

As they headed out the front door, the cool night air was a refreshing break from the energy of the gathering. Elliot looked over at Olivia, her cheeks slightly flushed but her shoulders more relaxed than earlier.

"You did great in there," he praised, his voice sincere. He could see the lingering traces of anxiety and nerves on her face, but they had lessened considerably since the start of the night. He reached out, taking her hand in his, interlocking their fingers.

Olivia smiled, a light breath escaping her. "I was terrified," she admitted, her voice soft. "But your family was... nice. Surprisingly nice."

Elliot chuckled, squeezing her hand gently. "I told you they would be," he said, his voice warm. "They might be a bit nosy and pushy sometimes, but they mean well."

She laughed, her shoulders relaxing a bit more. "You know, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. I think your mom really liked me," she said, a hint of mischief in her eyes.

Elliot's lips quirked up into a smile. "Oh, she definitely liked you. She always told me I should find someone "strong" and "independent" like her, and she thinks you are,” he admitted, his voice filled with affection.

Olivia's smile widened, a hint of pride evident in her eyes. "I can live up to those expectations," she said, her tone confident.

They stopped at the car, Elliot leaning against the back door as they faced each other. The street was quiet, and they were alone, surrounded by the soft glow of the streetlights.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, the night air calm and quiet. Elliot looked at Olivia, his gaze intense and affectionate. She looked beautiful in the dim light, her eyes glimmering. He reached out, his fingers gently brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

Olivia leaned into his touch, her breath hitching slightly. She could feel his gaze on her, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down her spine. She took a step closer, her body nearly touching his.

Elliot's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Her heartbeat quickened, her body fitting against his like a puzzle piece. He placed a hand under her chin, gently tilting her head to look up at him.

Their eyes met, a mix of anticipation and desire lingering between them. Elliot's gaze darkened, his fingers tracing the curve of her jaw. He leaned in, his breath hot against her skin.

The space between them seemed to shrink, their faces inches apart. Olivia's hands moved up to his chest, her fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Their lips hovered millimeters apart, and the air was charged with electricity, the tension palpable.

Elliot's fingers ran through her hair, his breath coming in short pants. He was torn between wanting to devour her right there and wanting to savor the moment. But the desire to taste her, to feel her, won out. He closed the gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss.

Olivia melted against him, her body molding to his as their lips moved together in a fiery dance. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, her fingers tangling in his hair. She matched his urgency with her own, her tongue seeking his, the kiss deep and desperate.

Elliot's grip on her tightened, his hands roaming over her body, desperate to feel every inch of her. He pushed her against the car, his body pressing into hers, the cold of the metal contrasting with the fire burning between them.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, leaving a trail of kisses, his breath hot against her skin.

Olivia gasped, her head tilting back, exposing more of her neck to him. Her fingers gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach, her body responding to his every touch, every kiss.

"Elliot," she whispered, her voice ragged. "We're in the street."

Elliot's response was a low growl against her neck, his lips not leaving her skin even as he spoke. "I don't care," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed lower, gripping her hips, pulling her flush against him.

Olivia's breath hitched, her body on fire as he continued his assault on her neck. She was so very tempted to forget about where they were and give in to the desires igniting within her. But a small part of her was tethered to logic, nagging at the back of her mind.

"Elliot," she protested again, her voice weak and lacking conviction.

Elliot lifted his head, his gaze meeting hers. His eyes were smoldering, filled with a primal need that mirrored her own. He took a moment to study her, her lips kiss-swollen, her cheeks flushed, her breath coming in ragged pants.

His thumbs traced soft circles on her hips, his forehead resting against hers. He knew he was pushing, but she was just so damn perfect, so responsive, it was driving him insane.

Olivia's eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. She could feel the heat pooling in her stomach, her body begging for him. But she managed to find her voice, her reason beginning to reassert itself.

"We... we can't do this here," she whispered her words in a breathless plea, her body still pressed against his, her body screaming for his touch.

Elliot's eyes darkened at the sound of her voice, the mixture of desire and restraint driving him crazy. He knew she was right, knew they needed to pull back. But it wasn’t easy, not with her looking at him like that, her face flushed, her chest heaving with each breath. He took a shaky breath, his hands resting on her hips, trying to rein in his desires.

"You're right," he murmured, his voice thick with restraint. "We should…"

Olivia could see the inner battle he was fighting, his grip on her hips still tight. She could tell that it was taking a tremendous effort for him to pull himself back, and a part of her loved that she could affect him like that.

Nodding, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She reached up, her fingers gently tracing his jaw, her touch a silent request for composure. "We should go home," she said quietly, her voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

Elliot's eyes fluttered shut at her touch, his body responding to her as if she'd sent an electric current through him. He was torn, his body begging for her, but his mind knew it was best to stop.

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice a mixture of desire and resignation. He opened his eyes, looking down at her, his gaze still heated but tempered now. "Home. Let's go home."

Chapter 7: What Happens in the Dark

Chapter Text

One Month Later…

Olivia and Agent Dean Porter were going through case files together, trying to piece together information. However, Dean's constant flirting was making Olivia very uncomfortable.

Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. Elliot entered the room with a serious expression.

"Hey," Olivia said, trying to hide her discomfort.

Elliot's sharp eyes instantly noted the subtle tension between Olivia and Dean. He crossed his arms, his voice laced with a hint of possessiveness.

"Dean, this is Elliot Stabler, my boyfriend," Olivia said, a touch of nervousness in her voice. “El, this is Agent Dean Porter, FBI.

Elliot acknowledged Dean with a curt nod, his gaze calm and assessing. It was evident that Elliot was already skeptical of the FBI agent.

As they exchanged greetings, a silent tension hung in the air, Elliot's protective instincts on high alert. He couldn't help but notice how Dean looked at Olivia, his gaze lingering a bit too long for his liking.

"What brings you here, Agent Porter?" Elliot asked, his tone measured but guarded. He stood closer to Olivia, his closeness a subtle claim of territory.

Dean smiled casually, seemingly unfazed by Elliot's cold demeanor.

"Just consulting on a case that has crossed federal lines. Olivia and I have been working closely together on it," Dean said, his eyes flicking back to Olivia, the hint of flattery in his voice.

Elliot clenched his jaw, his hands subtly curling into fists by his sides. He didn’t like how Dean addressed Olivia as if he had some sort of claim on her. Olivia seemed uncomfortable but tried to maintain her professionalism.

“Is that so? Sounds important,” Elliot said, his gaze flickering towards Olivia to check if she was alright.

"Oh, yeah, crucial," Dean replied, leaning slightly closer to Olivia. "We make a good team, don't we?"

Elliot's protective instincts flared even more, his jaw tensing at the familiarity in Dean's words. He subtly stepped closer to Olivia, a possessive move.

Sensing the tension between the two men, Olivia cleared her throat, shifting awkwardly under the weight of their gazes.

"Yeah, we’ve made some progress," she said, her voice slightly tighter than usual.

She looked at Elliot, silently pleading with him not to make a scene and to trust her.

Elliot could read Olivia better than anyone. He saw the plea in her eyes, and though it did little to quench the jealousy burning inside him, he tried to keep his calm for her sake.

"I'm sure you have," he replied, his voice neutral, though his eyes never left Dean, his gaze unwavering.

Dean turned to Olivia, his gaze soft and friendly. "Did you tell your boyfriend here that we will be going to Virginia this weekend to chase leads?" he asked with a smile.

Olivia's eyes widened, slightly taken aback by Dean's choice of words. She shot a quick glance at Elliot, whose expression darkened at the news.

"Uh, no, I haven't mentioned it yet..." she trailed off, realizing she should have informed Elliot earlier.

Elliot's jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. He didn't like the idea of Olivia going out of state with Dean, especially without him knowing about it beforehand.

"Are you about ready to head home? Taylor is waiting," Elliot asked, his voice low and sharp, his gaze fixed on Olivia.

Olivia shifted uncomfortably at the thinly veiled warning in Elliot's tone. She could see the storm brewing in his expression and knew that he was anything but happy about this trip with Dean.

"Yeah, just need to grab my stuff," she replied quietly, gathering her papers on the desk.

As Olivia packed her things, Elliot's gaze shifted back to Dean, a silent warning in his eyes. Dean seemed unfazed, his smile never faltering, his gaze still on Olivia.

Once Olivia was ready, Elliot placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her out of the room. It was a subtle physical marker, a declaration that she was his.

Elliot's hand remained firmly on Olivia's back as they walked to the SUV where Taylor was waiting. His jaw was still clenched, his mind racing with jealousy and concern. Once they were in the car, away from prying eyes, Elliot spoke, “We will discuss this at home.”

Olivia nodded silently, knowing better than to try to avoid the conversation. She could feel the possessive weight of Elliot's hand on her thigh. It was a silent declaration of his claim on her.

The drive home was quiet, the air thick with tension.

Once they arrived at the penthouse, Elliot led Olivia inside, his grip firm yet gentle on her wrist. The silence in the vast space was deafening.

"When were you planning to tell me about this trip?" he asked, his voice tight and controlled.

Olivia took a deep breath, her heart pounding. She knew she’d messed up by not mentioning the trip to him earlier.

"I was going to... I was just so caught up in the case that it slipped my mind," she mumbled, meeting his gaze. "Elliot, I—"

"Slipped your mind?" he repeated, his voice rising in disbelief. "You didn’t think it was important to tell me you would be going out of state overnight with another man without me?"

Elliot stalked closer to her, his tall frame looming over her.

Olivia flinched under his intensity but stood her ground, swallowing the fear.

"It's not like that, El. Dean is just a work colleague, nothing more," she said, trying to soothe him. "You know I would never cheat on you, right? It's just for work."

"Just a work colleague," Elliot echoed, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Yet he seems awfully friendly for ‘just a colleague.’ The way he looks at you, the way he talks to you… he wants more than just work from you, Liv. I can see it plainly, even if you refuse to. "

Olivia's eyes widened, stung by his words. She wanted to argue, to defend herself, but she knew deep down that Elliot wasn’t entirely wrong. She had seen how Dean looked at her and seemed a bit too comfortable with her, but she had always written it off as harmless flirting.

Elliot stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup her chin, forcing her to maintain eye contact. His blue eyes bore into hers, intense and possessive.

"You're mine, Olivia. Nobody else's. I won't share you," he said, each word a promise.

Olivia shivered under his possessive words, a mixture of fear and desire coursing through her. Elliot's touch and words sent a thrill down her spine. She knew that Elliot was a man who didn't like to share, and the thought of belonging to him, of being claimed by him, filled her with a primal satisfaction.

"I’m yours," she breathed in return, her voice soft and submissive.

Elliot's eyes darkened with a flash of triumph at her words. His hand moved to her waist, pulling her body closer to his.

"You are," he growled, his grip on her hip firm. "And I don’t want you going on this trip.”

Olivia's chest tightened, a mix of fear and frustration welling up in her. She hated the fact that Elliot’s possessive tendencies were so attractive to her.

"Elliot, the case… I don't have a choice," she tried to argue, though the protest sounded weak even to her own ears.

Elliot's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing as she tried to argue.

"You do have a choice," he said, his voice firm. "You can choose me, choose us. Don’t go on this trip, Olivia. I don’t want you spending that much time with Porter. Alone, out of state…"

Olivia felt herself falter under Elliot's intensity, the mixture of his protectiveness and jealousy both a comfort and a restriction.

"El, you can't just demand things and expect me to obey. I'm not one of your submissives," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm a detective. This is my career. I can't just say no because you want me to."

Elliot's grip softened at her words, his expression darkening with frustration. He knew she was right. She wasn’t one of his subs. She was his equal, his partner in life.

"I know that, Liv. I know this is your career," he said, his voice tense. "But that doesn't change the fact. I don’t trust him around you. And I don’t like the thought of you spending so much time with him, away from me.”

Olivia's heart ached at the pain in his voice and the fear driving his possessiveness. She reached up, her fingers gently tracing the line of his jaw.

"I'm not going to cheat, El. You know that. I choose you every day, remember?" she murmured, her eyes pleading for him to understand. "But I have to do my job, which sometimes means working with people you don't like."

Elliot leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as he took comfort in her words and her touch. He knew that she was right; she would never cheat on him. But the thought of her being alone with another man, a man who clearly wanted her, was too much to bear.

"I know, Liv," he said, his voice rough. "I trust you, I do. It’s him I don’t trust...“

Olivia's fingers continued their gentle caress, trying to soothe him.

"I understand, and I promise I'll be careful. I’ll call you if anything happens," she assured him. "But I have to go on this trip.”

Elliot's grip tightened ever so slightly on her waist at her words, but he knew she was resolute. He could force her to stay but knew that would only lead to resentment.

"Fine. I won’t stop you," he ground out, his jaw clenching. "But I swear to God if he tries anything, Liv…”

Olivia's chest squeezed at the raw intensity in his voice. She knew that his worry and jealousy came from a place of deep love and concern.

"He won’t try anything," she said, leaning into him. "I won’t let him, and I won’t give him reasons to." Her hands came up to frame his face, holding his gaze. "I’m yours, El. No one else’s."

Elliot's hands came up to cover hers, his eyes burning into hers. He could see the truth in her eyes, the love and loyalty there.

"You’re mine," he echoed, his voice deep and possessive. "And I'll be here, waiting. But if anything, anything at all feels off, you call me. Got it?"

Olivia nodded, her heart swelling with love at his fierce protectiveness.

"I promise," she said, her voice soft. I’ll check in with you and keep you updated. You won’t have to worry the whole time I’m gone."

Elliot pulled her into his embrace, his hold on her almost bruising. He needed the reassurance of her body against his. Needed to feel her, to claim her as his own.

"You better," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Olivia sat in her hotel room in Roanoke, Virginia. She was exhausted from the long day of investigations and interviews. Dean had been a near-constant presence, his casual flirting and lingering touches putting her on edge. She yearned for the comfort and safety of Elliot's strong arms.

Olivia tensed at the knock on her hotel room door. She knew who it was even before she opened the door.

Dean stood there, a charming smile on his face. "Hey," he said, leaning against the door frame.

Olivia schooled her expression into one of professionalism, though her nerves fluttered with anxiety.

“What’s up?” she asked, keeping her voice calm.

Dean stepped closer, his gaze raking over her. "Just wondering if you wanted to grab a drink. Unwind a bit," he suggested, his tone bordering on suggestive.

Olivia felt a pang of discomfort under his scrutiny. She had no interest in anything remotely resembling a date with Dean. She shook her head, keeping her tone firm.

"No, thanks. I'm tired, and we have an early start tomorrow. Good night, Dean."

Dean seemed momentarily taken aback by her rejection, but he recovered quickly with another charming smile.

"Come on, Liv. Just one drink. It’s not like we have anything better to do,” he pressed, stepping closer again, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

Olivia's patience was wearing thin. She took a step back, her voice hardening. "I said no, Dean. We’re here for work, not to socialize."

She reached for the door, starting to close it.

Just as the door was almost closed, Dean pushed it open and stepped into the room. His smile had disappeared, and his expression had hardened.

"You know what I've noticed about you, Olivia?" You're always so tense, so damn serious,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. "When was the last time you were f*cked so good you forgot your name?"

Olivia's anger rose, and her heart raced at his invasion of her space and his change in demeanor.

"You have three seconds to leave, Dean," she replied, backing further into the room as she drew her gun.

Dean chuckled as he raised his hands, his gaze following her every move. "You pull your gun on every guy or just the ones that could make you cum so hard you forget all about your billionaire boyfriend?"

Olivia's eyes narrowed, fear mixing with anger as Dean came closer still.

"Dean, get the f*ck out, or I will shoot you," she said, her voice firm and steady, even as she gripped her gun tightly.

Dean's smile widened at her resistance, and he relished the challenge as he began to back away.

"Okay. Okay," he said mockingly. "Just know you passed up on the opportunity of a lifetime.”

Olivia's heart pounded furiously in her chest, but she swallowed her fear, keeping her face schooled in a glare. She refused to show him how terrified she was.

"I highly doubt that," she said, her voice deadly calm.

As soon as Dean was on the other side of the door, she slammed it shut. With adrenaline pumping through her veins, she fumbled with the chain, finally securing it to guarantee he couldn't get back in.

Her hands shook violently as she fumbled with her phone, unlocking it with trembling fingers. She hit the speed dial for Elliot.

The dial tone seemed to stretch forever as she waited for him to answer. With every passing second, her trepidation grew, her mind filled with worst-case scenarios.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Elliot's voice came through the line.

"Liv?" he said, his voice immediately alert and concerned. “Everything okay?"

The sound of his voice was both a relief and a torment. Her heart clenched at the worry she heard in his tone, the concern that had been justified.

Olivia's breath hitched in her throat, the events of the past few minutes playing over in her mind. She wanted to assure him she was fine, but the words stuck in her throat.

"No," she finally managed to say, her voice quivering. "No, I'm not. I need you, El. I need you to come get me."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, then Elliot’s voice came through loud and clear.

“I’m on my way, baby. Taylor is taking me to the jet now. I’m coming.”

Olivia closed her eyes, his words giving her a shred of comfort, a lifeline in her panic.

"Please hurry," she whispered, her voice laced with urgency. "Dean... he... he tried.." Her voice broke, her words choked.

There was a sharp intake of breath from Elliot on the other end, followed by a string of muttered curses.

“Jesus Christ, Liv…” he swore, his voice tight with anger and concern. “Stay on the line, baby. Talk to me. What did he do?”

Olivia's breath hitched as she tried to find the words to describe what had happened. Her chest tightened as she recalled his vial words, mocking voice, and cold look in his eyes.

"He came to my room," she began, her voice slightly shaking. "He was... he was... he tried to..." She swallowed hard, the rest of the words failing her.

She could hear shuffling on the other end of the line, then Elliot's voice came through again, his tone cold with fury.

“Did he hurt you, Liv?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Did he touch you?”

"No. No… I uh…," Olivia whispered, her voice barely audible. "Pulled my gun. Threatened to shoot him."

Elliot chuckled slightly, “That’s my girl.”

Olivia smiled and shook her head before remembering he couldn't see her. "I just want to go home, El," she said, her voice still wavering.

"I know, baby," Elliot said, his voice soft and comforting. “I’m coming as fast as I can. I’ve got to hang up for now, though. I’m getting on the plane. I’ll be there in an hour. I promise.”

Olivia hated the thought of hanging up, of being alone again, even for a brief moment. But she trusted Elliot’s promise. He was coming for her.

“Okay,” she whispered into the phone. “Please hurry.”

“I will,” Elliot replied, his voice filled with determination. “I love you, baby.”

Olivia took a deep, shaky breath, her free hand pressing against her chest. Her heart was still racing, her adrenaline barely under control, but Elliot’s voice grounded her, and she was safe behind the locked door of her hotel room. “I love you too, El.”

After hanging up the phone, Olivia leaned against the headboard of her bed, drawing in deep, calming breaths.

Each passing minute felt like an eternity, her mind replaying the events of the evening again and again. She wanted to forget, to block it all out, but the memory of how Dean acted kept resurfacing, sending waves of disgust and anger through her.

She knew she should call Cragen to report what happened, but she wasn't ready to face anyone just yet. She wanted to see Elliot first and be in his arms, wrapped in his strength.

A sudden noise outside her hotel room door sent a wave of fear through her, making her jump. She held her breath, listening intently.

When a knock at the door came, she flinched her heart in her throat. Her grip on her phone tightened as she called out, “Who is it?”

"It's just me, Liv."

At the sound of Elliot's voice on the other side of the door, Olivia's shoulders sagged with relief. She fumbled with the lock, her hands trembling slightly, and pulled the door open.

Elliot stood on the other side, his eyes dark with anger and concern yet full of tenderness when they met hers. Without a word, he stepped into the room and pulled her into his arms.

As soon as she was enveloped in his embrace, Olivia let out a small sob of relief. She buried her face in his shoulder, her body relaxing against his. He held her tightly, his arms a protective shield as he held her close. She closed her eyes, focusing on the steady beat of his heart, the familiar scent of his cologne.

His hand came up to the back of her head, gently stroking her hair. "I’m here, baby," he murmured, his voice gruff. "You’re okay."

His words were like a balm, soothing her frayed nerves. She clung to him, her fists clutching at his shirt as if she would never let him go. Everything about him was comforting—the solidness of his form, the warmth of his body, and his steady heartbeat against her ear.

"God, El," she started, her voice muffled against his chest. "I thought he was going to..."

"I know," he said, his voice heavy with anger yet gentle. "I know, baby. But you stopped him. He can't hurt you. I won't let him."

As Elliot held her, his mind was racing with all the ways he wanted to make Dean pay. But right now, Olivia was the priority. He needed to make sure she was okay.

Olivia allowed herself a few more moments in his embrace, soaking in his strength and being soothed by his presence. But eventually, she pulled back slightly, her gaze meeting his.

"I have to call Cragen," she said, her voice firmer than it was moments ago. "This… the case… he needs to know what happened and why I’m coming home."

Elliot nodded, his eyes searching her face. "You’re sure you’re okay?" he asked, his hand coming up to gently brush a strand of hair back from her face.

He understood her need to persevere and maintain her professional demeanor. He wanted to wrap her up and protect her from further harm.

Olivia offered him a small smile, a hint of her usual strength showing through the fear. "As okay as I can be," she replied, her voice steadier than it had been. She took a few steps back, putting some distance between them, as she reached for her phone.

Elliot watched her as she dialed Captain Cragen's number, his concern still evident in his eyes.

"Hey, Cap," Olivia said as soon as Cragen picked up the phone. She relayed what had happened, her voice neutral and professional.

Cragen's response was immediate and furious, a string of curses mixed with questions about Olivia's well-being. She assured him she was okay, that Elliot was with her now, and that the situation was under control.

As she ended the call, she stood there for a moment, her hand gripping the phone so tightly her knuckles were white. Then, slowly, she looked up at Elliot, her mask of stoicism crumbling slightly under his penetrating gaze.

As Elliot held Olivia's gaze, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," Elliot called out, not taking his eyes off Olivia.

The door opened slowly, and Taylor walked in, his eyes immediately going to Olivia. Despite his intimidating appearance, his expression softened as he looked at Olivia.

“Miss Benson,” he said with a nod, his voice gruff but gentle.

"Taylor," Olivia acknowledged, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. She stepped forward and leaned into Elliot.

Taylor's gaze flickered between Olivia and Elliot, reading the tension in the room. He knew better than to ask how Olivia was doing. Instead, he turned his attention to Elliot.

“Thought you would like an update, sir,” he said, his tone emotionless but professional. “Former Agent Porter has been… handled.”

Elliot's gaze darkened at the mention of Porter's name. He knew Taylor's language well and knew that "handled" meant that Porter would no longer be a problem for Olivia. He gave a short nod. "Good," he said, his voice cold and flat. "Is the car ready?”

"Yes, sir," Taylor replied, his eyes lingering on Olivia for a moment longer before shifting back to Elliot. "Whenever you’re both ready."

With a final nod, he stepped back out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Elliot's focus returned to Olivia, his gaze assessing. "Are you ready to go home?" he asked, his tone gentle.

Olivia took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Let's go home."

Elliot kept one hand on the small of her back, gently guiding her out to the car.

Taylor helped Olivia into the backseat, and Elliot followed, sitting close beside her. He pulled her against him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders.

As the car began to drive, Elliot pulled her closer, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her hip. He could feel the tension in her body slowly begin to unwind under his touch.

Olivia's eyes flickered open. "Thank you for coming to get me," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

Elliot gently kissed the crown of her head, his hand still tracing lazy patterns on her hip. He felt her body relax further against his, her breath slowing.

"You don’t have to thank me, baby," he continued, his voice low and steady. "I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Olivia nodded against his shoulder, her eyelids drooping. She could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing under her cheek, the solidity of his body anchoring her. She allowed herself to relax for a moment, to let the exhaustion wash over her. But then a thought intruded, and her eyes snapped open.

"Elliot," she murmured, her voice laced with quiet desperation. “What did Taylor mean when he called Dean a ‘former’ agent?”

Elliot felt her body stiffen beside him as she asked the question. He took a moment before responding, his hand still on her hip, keeping her close.

"I know the FBI Director," he said, his voice tight. "I made a call when I landed. Dean will never work in law enforcement again.”

Olivia felt a rush of relief at his words, her muscles unclenching slightly. She looked up at him, seeing the barely controlled anger in his face.

"You had him fired?" she said, a hint of awe in her voice.

Elliot’s gaze was hard, his expression betraying his anger. "He’s lucky I didn't have him killed. I don’t take kindly to people who harm what’s mine," he said, his voice low.

He shifted slightly, his fingers tracing a path along her jaw, tilting her face up to his. His eyes met hers, holding her gaze.

“You’re mine, Olivia,” he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. “And I will always protect you. Always.”

Olivia's heart skipped a beat at his words, her breath catching in her throat. She saw the possessiveness in his eyes, the fierce determination to keep her safe. And she relished in it. Elliot’s protection was never about control with her but instead about love.

She lifted her hand to his cheek, her fingers lightly tracing the lines of his face. "I'm yours," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Arriving on the tarmac, the hum of the engines provided a faint background noise as they boarded the private jet. Exhaustion washed over Olivia, but finding comfort in the luxurious surroundings was impossible.

Elliot guided her to a seat, his hand at the small of her back, a soothing and silent anchor. Once she was settled, he sat beside her, their bodies almost touching.

As the plane started taxiing, Olivia leaned her head against the leather seat, her eyes drifting shut. The weariness was overwhelming, like a tidal wave crashing over her.

Elliot’s hand found hers, his fingers intertwining with hers, the familiar touch grounding her. He didn’t speak. He knew she needed quiet and time to process.

When the plane touched down, Elliot gently roused Olivia, his hand on her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, the haze of sleep still clouding her mind.

Elliot helped her to her feet, his hand steady on her elbow as they exited the plane. The cool night air hit them, a stark contrast to the interior of the jet.

A car was waiting for them. As Taylor took the driver's seat, Elliot guided Olivia into the backseat before getting in himself. He pulled her close, her head resting against his shoulder, the silence in the car enveloping them like a protective blanket.

The drive was short but felt like an eternity. Olivia stared out the window, still coming down from her adrenaline high. Elliot remained silent beside her, his body heat seeping into her, his presence a steady, comforting force.

The car came to a stop in Elliot's building's garage. Taylor stepped out, walking around to open the door for them. Elliot slid out, never letting go of Olivia's hand. He led her towards the building, his gait purposeful, his grip firm but tender.

The elevator ride-up felt like a haze. Olivia's mind was foggy, her body heavy with exhaustion. Elliot stood beside her, his arm around her waist, his presence a strong and steady reassurance. When the elevator opened, he guided her out, Stepping into the penthouse.

Elliot steered her towards the bathroom, his hand still on her hip. He began running her a bath, gently coaxing her to undress as the tub filled.

The warmth of the bath water soothed her skin, and the steam wrapped her in warmth. She felt detached from her body, her mind too worn out to fight the exhaustion anymore.

Elliot crouched beside the tub, sponging water over her body. His touch was gentle yet thorough. He cleaned her with silent care, his eyes never leaving her face.

The feel of the sponge sliding over her skin under the warm water was oddly soothing, almost meditative. She closed her eyes, letting her body relax further into the water.

As Elliot finished bathing her, he drained the water and wrapped her in a soft towel. He guided her out of the tub and dried her off gently before helping her put on one of his shirts.

The feeling of the worn shirt against her skin, Elliot's scent enveloping her, was strangely comforting. He led her into the bedroom; the room was dark, the only light the dim glow from the city outside.

Elliot tucked her into the bed. The sheets cool against her skin. After undressing, he climbed in next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, his body molding around hers.

Olivia settled into his embrace, her body fitting against his naturally, her head resting against his chest. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under her ear, his arm a strong, reassuring presence around her waist.

She took a shuddering breath, the events of the day catching up to her. But the feel of Elliot's body against hers, his warmth surrounding her, made her feel safe and protected.

Olivia's voice was soft and quiet, her words a barely audible murmur in the dim light.

"El," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

Elliot stirred beside her, his arms tightening around her. "I'm right here," he murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "What is it, baby?”

Olivia clutched at him, her fingers desperate to keep him close. "I just need..." she whispered, her voice breaking. "I need to forget."

Elliot felt his heart break at her plea. He knew what she was asking, the desperate longing to escape.

He shifted, rolling them over so that he was hovering over her, his body covering hers, his weight a protective shield against the world.

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes filled with vulnerability. "Make me forget," she whispered, desperation in her voice. "Please, El."

Elliot looked down at her, his eyes filled with tenderness and determination. The sight of her, so fragile and vulnerable, broke something in him. He knew he'd do anything, anything, to chase away how she was feeling.

"I got you, baby," he whispered, his voice husky. "I'll make you forget."

With that promise, Elliot lowered his head, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss. Every ounce of his devotion, his love, his need to protect her poured into their connection, his lips moving against hers fervently, his tongue delving into her mouth.

Olivia responded instantly, her body arching against his, her mouth opening to his in a silent plea for more. Her fingers dug into his bare shoulders.

Elliot's hands roamed over her body as they kissed, his touch firm yet gentle. He moved his mouth from her lips to her neck, his tongue trailing over her pulse point, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

Olivia gasped, her body responding to his touch. The feeling of his mouth against her neck was electric, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. She let herself get lost in the sensation, the heat of his body against hers, the sweetness of his mouth on her skin.

Elliot's mouth moved lower, his lips tracing a path down her collarbone to the hollow of her throat. He took his time, his touch slow and deliberate, as if trying to memorize every inch of her skin. His hands roamed lower, removing her shirt.

Olivia's breath hitched at the feel of his hands on her bare skin, her body trembling with anticipation. She arched under him, her body seeking more of his touch, more of his contact. The need to be close to him and consumed by him was overwhelming.

Elliot's lips moved lower, trailing down her sternum to the valley between her breasts. He paused, his breaths coming in soft pants, as he looked down at her. The sight of her, laid out before him, her eyes darkened with desire, was intoxicating.

Olivia's eyes met his, her breath quick and shallow. His gaze was a mixture of reverence and desire, a look that made her feel loved, cherished, and worshipped.

She reached for him, her hands grasping at his shoulders again, trying to pull him closer. Elliot obliged, his body covering hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He lowered his head, his mouth closing around one breast, his tongue swirling around the pebbled peak.

Olivia gasped at the sudden sensation, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her hips arching involuntarily. The feel of his mouth on her skin, his tongue sending jolts of pleasure through her, was overwhelming.

She writhed underneath him, her body begging for more, pleading for release.

His lips and tongue trailed over her stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses down to the waist of her panties.

Olivia gasped at the feel of his lips on the sensitive skin of her stomach, the anticipation of where he was heading making her body thrum with desire. Her hips arched into his touch, her body seeking more, seeking the pleasure that only he could give her.

Elliot's fingers hooked into the lace of her panties, tugging them down her legs. He left them tangled around one ankle as he settled himself between her legs, his breath hot against her inner thigh.

Olivia's breath came in ragged pants as she felt his breath on her skin, the anticipation of his touch sending thrills through her body. Her hands clenched the sheets, her eyes locked on his face, her chest heaving with desire.

Elliot looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, as he pushed her thighs further apart. His tongue darted out, tasting her.

He licked again, harder, his lips finding her cl*t, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

The sensation of his mouth on her, pleasure shooting through her body, had Olivia's head falling back, a moan tearing from her throat. Her hips rose, her body seeking more of his touch, more of the pleasure he was giving her.

Elliot's mouth continued its assault, his tongue and lips working in perfect unison to bring her closer to release. His hands held her thighs open, his fingers digging into her skin.

He could feel her body winding tighter, her breathing becoming more erratic, her moans growing louder. He wanted to bring her over the edge, to wipe away all thoughts from her mind, to leave only him, only his name on her lips.

Olivia's body was a livewire, her nerve endings frayed with pleasure. Every stroke of his tongue sent shocks through her body, her mind reduced to only the sensation of his mouth on her, his touch on her skin.

She writhed under him, her body a tangle of need and pleasure. His name fell from her lips in a gasp, a plea, a benediction.

Elliot doubled down on his efforts, his tongue and lips working relentlessly. His name on her lips was like a litany, a prayer, echoing in the silence of the room.

Olivia's body was taut, her muscles quivering as she hovered on the precipice. Her mind was a mess, her consciousness reduced to only his mouth on her, his touch on her skin, her body burning, her mind reeling.

And then, with one final stroke of his tongue, she shattered. Her body convulsed, her back arching as she came with a cry of his name, her body trembling with the force of her release.

Elliot felt her shudder beneath him, her body seizing as she org*smed. He gentled his touch, his tongue continuing to lap softly, bringing her through the aftershocks until she was trembling and wrung out.

He lifted his head, looking up at her. She looked wrecked, undone, her body lax and boneless against the mattress. Her eyes were closed, her breathing still ragged.

Olivia felt boneless, her body still quivering with the aftereffects of her org*sm. Her mind was blissfully blank, all thoughts chased away by the pleasure he'd given her.

The feel of his body against hers, his breath mingling with hers, was grounding, drawing her back to reality. She blinked her eyes open, her gaze hazy and unfocused, meeting his.

Elliot's expression was a mix of tenderness and possessiveness. He moved up her body, covering her with his weight, which was a comforting presence. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Better?" he asked, his voice a low rumble as he brushed his lips against hers.

Olivia could only nod, her voice failing her. The pleasure he'd given her had left her breathless, her mind still reeling. She could only stare up at him, her eyes wide and unguarded, her body still humming with pleasure.

She reached up tentatively, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as if she needed to assure herself that he was real, that he was there, that he was hers.

Elliot leaned into her touch, his gaze never wavering from her face. He knew what that look in her eyes meant, the vulnerability she rarely showed.

He covered her hand with his own, trapping her fingers against his skin, his thumb rubbing small, soothing circles on her palm. "You good, baby?" he asked, his voice a low growl, his concern and care for her evident in every syllable.

Olivia managed to find her voice, her words soft and a little husky. "Yeah," she whispered, her fingers clenching around his.

She didn't know how to express the maelstrom of emotions that were churning inside her. All she knew was that, at that moment, she needed him. She needed the reassurance of his presence, the comfort of his touch, and the strength of his embrace.

Elliot shifted, rolling them over so that she was lying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her, his embrace possessive and protective.

He held her close, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back, his lips brushing against her temple in a tender kiss. He wanted her to feel safe and secure in their cocoon of solitude.

He didn't say anything, just held her, his presence a silent reassurance of his love and devotion to her. He knew she needed this, a moment to catch her breath, to be vulnerable without the world intruding.

Olivia buried her face in his chest, inhaling his scent and the feel of his skin against hers. She could feel the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat, reassuring and grounding her.

She felt raw and open, her defenses stripped away. But she also felt safe and protected within the circle of his arms. It was a paradoxical mix of emotions: the vulnerability of being so exposed coupled with the safety of being in his embrace.

Elliot continued his soothing motions, his hands running up and down her back, his fingers tracing nonsensical patterns on her skin.

He could feel the tension in her body begin to melt away slowly, her muscles relaxing as she burrowed deeper into his embrace.

He pulled the sheets up over them, wrapping them in a warm, secure nest. He leaned down, his lips next to her ear, his voice a low rumble. "You're safe, baby. I got you."

Olivia closed her eyes, her breath steadying, the tension seeping out of her body. His words washed over her like a soothing balm, his voice a comforting lullaby.

She snuggled deeper into his embrace, her head settling in the crook of his shoulder. The world outside his room faded away; the only sounds were the soft susurrus of their breathing, the steady thudding of his heart, and the whisper of the sheets as he pulled the blankets tighter around them.

He held her, his body molding around hers as if he could shield her from the rest of the world.

He knew she was worn out, both physically and emotionally, and he intended to let her rest. He shifted his weight, settling them more comfortably in the bed. His hands were still soothing, his presence a silent promise that he wasn't leaving.

Olivia felt her consciousness begin to slip, her exhaustion weighing down her eyelids. The steady rise and fall of his chest, the warmth of his body, and the steady rhythm of his hands on her back all combined to lull her into a state of tranquility.

She was safe, protected, and cherished. Soon, she drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that he was there, watching over her.

Elliot woke with Olivia still draped across him. Her head was pillowed on his chest, and her arm was thrown across his stomach.

He savored the moment, the feel of her body against his, the steady rhythm of her breaths, the silken curtain of her hair spread across his chest. He raised a hand, tracing the delicate line of her jaw with his fingertip, taking care not to wake her.

He let his mind wander, memories of the previous night returning to him. He remembered the look in her eyes, vulnerable and exposed, the feel of her body under his touch, the sound of her voice as she fell apart in his arms.

He couldn’t help the possessive flare of his heart as he held her; the knowledge that she was his, that she trusted him enough to let her guard down, to be vulnerable in his presence, filled him with a heady mix of love, desire, and protectiveness.

He knew she saw herself as a strong, independent woman, and she was. But he also knew the strength it took for her to lower her walls around him, the courage it took for her to let him see the parts of her she didn’t show to anyone else.

Olivia stirred as these thoughts swirled through his mind, her eyelashes fluttering against his chest. She opened her eyes, blinking in the early morning sunlight seeping through the curtains.

She looked up at him, her expression soft and unguarded. There was no armor, no barriers, just the naked vulnerability of waking up in the arms of the man she loved.

"Morning," she croaked, her voice slurred with sleep. She lifted her head, propping herself up on one elbow as she looked at him, a slow smile curling her lips.

"Morning, beautiful," he rumbled, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He lifted a hand, gently pushing her hair back from her face, his thumb caressing the softness of her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly as she savored the warm feel of his palm against her skin. When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her, a lazy, possessive look on his face.

She could see the possessive flare in his eyes, the way they darkened as they roved over her body, still bare from the night before. She felt a corresponding flare of heat in her belly, her body responding to his gaze.

"You're staring at me," she said, her voice low and a little husky. His thumb was still tracing lazy circles on her cheek, the pad of his finger sending shivers down her spine.

"I'm allowed to stare," he replied, his voice a low rumble, a hint of a growl in the undertones. His free hand moved to her hip, pulling her flush against him, her bare skin against his.

She felt a shiver run through her as their bodies pressed together, the feel of his naked skin against hers making her breath catch in her throat. She could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body was already responding to hers.

He shifted, rolling her onto her back as he loomed over her, trapping her between his body and the mattress. His gaze raked over her, taking in every inch of her form, his expression a mixture of lust and concern.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice deep from sleep.

Olivia felt herself melt beneath his gaze, the possessiveness in his eyes sending another shiver down her spine. She arched her back, lifting her body towards him, her eyes locked on his.

"I'm good," she breathed, her voice husky. "Great, actually."

Elliot nodded, satisfied with her response. His eyes flicked over her body, a slow perusal that felt like a tangible caress. His hands joined the exploration, trailing over her skin, touching, caressing, and mapping every dip and curve.

"So… last night helped?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

Olivia felt her body respond to his touch, her skin heating beneath his fingers. She nodded, her eyes fluttering shut as his fingers traced a path over her collarbone, his touch gentle yet possessive.

"It did," she said, her voice a murmur. "I feel… lighter, somehow."

"Good," he growled, his fingers moving lower, tracing the curve of her breast. His eyes followed the movement of his hand, his expression intense, almost feral.

Olivia gasped as his fingers moved across her sensitive skin. She looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. She arched into his touch, pressing her body against his, her own hands roaming over his shoulders, his chest, her touch growing bolder with each passing moment.

Elliot's breath hitched in his chest, the feel of her hands on his skin igniting a fire within him. He leaned down, his mouth trailing a hot, wet path down the column of her throat, his teeth nipping at her pulse point.

Her gasp turned into a whimper, her body arching into his, seeking more of his touch, craving the feel of him against her. She could feel him everywhere, his body pressing her into the mattress, the hard planes of his chest against her softness, his mouth on her skin, his hands, always his hands...

"Elliot," she gasped, her voice a whisper, a plea.

He lifted his head, his eyes dark and intense as he looked down at her. The possessiveness was there, flaring in his gaze, but so was a hint of vulnerability, a raw need that mirrored her own.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice a deep growl. "Say my name, baby."

She licked her lips, her breath catching in her throat at the possessive command. She could see the need in his eyes, feel it in the tautness of his muscles, the tension in his body.

"Elliot," she whispered, her voice soft, a mere breath. She held his gaze, her eyes locking with his, her own need and raw vulnerability reflected back at him.

The sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt through him, his body reacting fiercely, his muscles clenching in response.

"Again," he demanded, his voice a harsh rasp, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hip.

He needed to hear her say his name, needed to know that she was his, that she wanted this as badly as he did.

Her breath hitched in her throat as he commanded her to say his name again. She could feel the intensity radiating off of him, the sheer need in his voice, and it stoked her own fire, made her own desires burn hotter.

"Elliot," she repeated, her voice firmer this time, more sure. She reached up, her fingers running through his hair, pulling his head down so their mouths were a breath apart. "Elliot…"

His mouth crashed into hers, the kiss fierce and possessive. His tongue plundered her mouth, branding her, marking her, claiming her completely. His hands were everywhere, touching, caressing, claiming every inch of her body.

He needed to be closer, needed to be inside her. He needed to lose himself in her, to forget everything but the feel of her body against his.

She gave herself over to the kiss, her body responding to his touch like a spark to paper. She tangled her legs with his, her hands roaming over his back, pulling him closer, molding their bodies together, craving the feel of his skin against hers.

She heard herself whimper, her body arching against him, her need for him growing with each passing moment.

He broke the kiss to breathe, his forehead resting against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The sound of her whimper sent a bolt of heat straight to his groin, his body aching to be inside hers.

He reached down, his hands pulling her legs around his waist, positioning her just where he wanted her.

"Look at me, baby," he commanded, his voice a rough growl.

Her breath caught in her throat as he positioned her, her body shivering in anticipation. His voice was a command, a demand that she couldn't ignore. She opened her eyes, looking up at him, her gaze locked with his.

His eyes were dark, hooded, and filled with a raw need that mirrored her own. She could feel his hard co*ck pressing against her, teasing her, and she couldn't help but moan, her hips shifting slightly, seeking more contact.

He held her gaze as he moved, his throbbing co*ck slowly pushing into her, stretching her, filling her.

"Mine," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "You're mine, Olivia."

Her breath stalled in her chest as he entered her, her body arching against his as he filled her completely. She heard the possessive rumble in his voice, the word mine sending a shiver down her spine.

"Yours," she gasped, her voice a whisper, her eyes locked with his. She lifted her hips, her body moving in rhythm with his, seeking the connection, the closeness, the feeling of being one.

He was lost to the feeling of her, the taste of her skin, the scent of her hair. He thrusted into her, his body seeking hers, his hands gripping her hips, keeping her right where he wanted her.

He could feel himself teetering on the edge, the feel of her around him almost driving him over. But he held on, his eyes locked with her, his voice a ragged growl.

"Say it again," He demanded, his body moving with a primal rhythm. "Say it again, baby. Say you're mine."

"I'm yours," she gasped, the words tearing from her throat, her voice ragged with need. "God, I'm yours, Elliot. Y-yours."

The sound of her uttering those words, declaring she was his, sent a flare of primal satisfaction through him. His hands tightened around her hips, his body moving harder, faster, deeper.

He leaned down, his mouth trailing a hot, wet path along her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin of her shoulder.

"That's right," he growled, his voice a harsh rasp. "You're mine. All mine."

She clung to him, her body trembling with pleasure, every nerve ending singing with sensation. She gasped as he nipped at her skin, the sting sending a fresh wave of heat through her.

Her hands roamed over his skin, her nails dragging down his back as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.

"Yours," she repeated, her voice a breathless moan. "Only yours, always yours."

He felt her nails dig into his skin, the slight pain only adding to his pleasure, driving him even wilder with need. He could feel her c*nt tightening around him, could hear her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice thick with desire. "Let go. Let me feel you come apart in my arms."

The sound of his voice, rough and demanding, was all it took to push her over the edge. She came apart in his arms, her body shuddering with pleasure, her hands clutching at his ass as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

She cried out, her voice a ragged moan, her body arching against his, completely and utterly spent.

He felt her climax around him, her c*nt tightening and clenching around his co*ck, pushing him over the edge as well. He followed her over, his body shuddering as he spilled himself inside her.

He collapsed on top of her, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body boneless with satisfaction. He nuzzled her neck, his lips leaving soft, lazy kisses on her skin.

She held onto him tightly, her body still trembling with the aftermath of her org*sm. She could feel his own tremors, his own release as he spent himself inside her.

She let out a soft sigh, her hands running lightly over his back, her fingers tracing light patterns on his skin. She could feel his lips on her neck, his kisses gentle and tender, and she couldn't help but smile, a quiet contentment settling over her.

He lifted his head, his eyes finding hers. The possessive flare was still there, but it was softer and more tender now. He looked at her for a long moment, his gaze roving over her face, taking in her flushed skin, mussed hair, and soft and sated eyes.

"Move in with me," he whispered, his voice gruff.

Her eyes widened at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Move in with him? The words sent a rush of emotions through her. Surprise, joy…a hint of trepidation.

But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the vulnerability and hint of uncertainty. He wanted this, wanted her, and damnit, she wanted him too.

"Okay," she whispered back, her voice breathless. "I'll move in with you."

His heart pounded in his chest at her agreement, a rush of relief and happiness washing over him. He hadn't expected her to agree so quickly, but he couldn't deny the thrill that went through him at the thought of having her with him, waking up beside her every morning.

He leaned down and captured her mouth in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue plundering hers.

She returned his kiss with fervor, her body responding eagerly to his possessive display. She could feel the intensity of his desire, the need to claim her, to make her his in every way possible.

Her hands roamed over his back, her nails dragging softly over his skin as she returned his passion with equal intensity.

He pulled away reluctantly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body still thrumming with desire.

But he knew they needed to slow down to talk about this. As much as he wanted to continue, he wanted to do this right. For her. For them.

He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him so her head rested on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

She settled against him, her head resting on his chest. She could hear the steady thump of his heart, the sound soothing her, grounding her.

She let out a soft sigh, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest, her mind racing with thoughts. Moving in with him felt like a big step, a huge commitment. But at the same time, it felt right, like the next logical step for them.

He felt her fingers tracing patterns on his chest, the feather-light touch sending a shiver through him.

"Hey," he said quietly, his hand coming up to cup her chin, turning her face towards him. "Talk to me. What's going through that beautiful head of yours?"

She met his gaze, surprise flickering in her eyes at his gentle tone. She was used to the rough, dominant side of him, not this tenderness, this vulnerability.

"I'm just...processing, I guess," she murmured, her voice soft. "This is a big step, Elliot. Moving in together. It's a huge commitment."

He nodded, his fingers gently stroking her cheek.

"I know," he replied quietly. "And I'm not making this decision lightly, Olivia. I want this, want you. But I also know this is a big deal. This isn't like dating or dating casually. This is serious. We're serious."

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing momentarily as she absorbed his words.

"I know," she repeated, her voice soft. "And I'm not backing out of it. I want this, too, Elliot. I want you."

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. "I just...We’ve never talked about our future before. You know, marriage or kids. What if we don't want the same things?”

He could see the question in her eyes, the slight doubt creeping in. He had thought about this before, and of course he had. How could he not? But he hadn't wanted to force the issue, not yet.

"I know we haven’t talked about it yet," he admitted, his voice low. "But I do want a future with you, Olivia. I want all of it. Marriage, kids, all of it."

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, a wave of emotion washing over her. She'd wondered; of course, she had, but hearing him say it aloud and declare that he wanted a future with her was everything she could have hoped for.

"Really?" she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You want all of it? With me?"

"With you," he repeated, his voice steady, unwavering. "Only with you. You're the only one I've ever wanted a future with, baby."

His hand moved from her cheek, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle.

Her heart felt like it would burst, his words fueling the fire of affection burning inside her. She could see the earnestness in his eyes and the raw vulnerability, which only made her fall more in love with him.

"I want that too," she murmured, her voice tight with emotion. "I want all of it. With you. Only you."

He pulled her closer then, his arms wrapping tighter around her, his face burying itself in her hair.

"Then it's settled," he murmured, his voice slightly muffled but still clear. "We're doing this. You're moving in with me, and we're building our future together."

She melted against him, her body molding perfectly to his. She let out a happy sigh, the sound muffled against his chest but still audible.

"Together," she echoed, her voice filled with contentment. "I like the sound of that."

Chapter 8: The Past Hides from No One

Chapter Text

The Next Day…

It was the end of her shift, and Olivia gathered her things, ready to leave. She was prepared to go home and see Elliot.

As Olivia left the precinct, she accidentally bumped into a blonde woman. Upon closer inspection, she noticed the bandages on the woman's wrists. Concern filled Olivia's expression, and she immediately stopped in her tracks.

Olivia was taken aback that the woman knew her name, but she didn't recognize the woman herself. She furrowed her brow in confusion, curiosity growing in her eyes as she studied the blonde woman.

"Sorry. Do we know each other?” Olivia asked, her voice filled with curiosity and genuine concern.

A loud noise abruptly drew Olivia's attention away from the mysterious woman. She whipped her head around, every muscle in her body tensed and on alert.

Her eyes darted around, searching for the source of the noise. A brief feeling of unease took hold, but she regained her composure quickly and turned her focus back to the woman.

Olivia's eyes widened as she realized the woman had quickly vanished when she'd been distracted by the noise. She quickly scanned her surroundings, searching for any signs of the blonde woman.

Though puzzled, Olivia shook off the blonde woman's strange disappearance and headed towards the SUV where Taylor awaited.

"Hey, Taylor," Olivia greeted the man with a polite smile, trying to mask the lingering confusion from the odd encounter.

She glanced back towards the precinct as she got into the SUV, her mind still wondering about the woman. Despite her curiosity, she pushed the thoughts aside and focused on getting home to Elliot.

During the drive home, Olivia's mind occasionally wandered back to the blonde woman, but she tried to push those thoughts away, telling herself she was probably just paranoid. The woman was a stranger, after all.

The city scenery flew by outside the window as Olivia closed her eyes, a sense of familiar comfort washing over her as the SUV navigated through the city streets. She couldn't help but wonder if the woman was somehow tied to Elliot’s past. Could the woman be an ex-submissive?

Soon enough, the SUV pulled up in Elliot's building's garage. Olivia took a deep breath, pushing any thoughts of the blonde woman to the back of her mind for now.

With Taylor by her side, Olivia entered the penthouse. She spotted Elliot across the room. He was standing near the large windows overlooking the city. His eyes focused on whatever he was looking at outside.

Her heart skipped a bit as her gaze landed on him. The sight of him always stirred something within her, a mix of affection and desire that hadn't faded even after all these months.

She couldn't help but notice his serious look, which betrayed a hint of worry. Olivia silently removed her gun and badge, locking them in the safe by the door. She walked up to him, her footsteps barely sounding on the marble floor.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Olivia asked quietly as she approached him, her hand resting gently on his arm. Concern laced her voice, and her eyes searched his face for any signs of what was troubling him.

Elliot turned his attention towards her, the seriousness in his eyes softening slightly as he looked at her. He reached out to pull her closer, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her body against him.

In return, Olivia wrapped her arms around him, her body automatically molding itself to his. The contact was comforting, and she instinctively felt a sense of security in his embrace.

There was a moment of silence between them as they stood there, just holding each other. Olivia could sense that Elliot was still troubled by something, but he didn't say anything. She gave him a moment, patiently waiting for him to speak when he was ready.

Finally, Elliot broke the silence, his voice low and contemplative. "There's something I need to talk to you about," he said, his gaze still locked with hers.

Olivia's curiosity was instantly piqued. She could tell from the tone of his voice that whatever he wanted to discuss was important, and a tinge of concern crossed her features. She tightened her grip on him ever so slightly, waiting for him to continue.

Elliot took a deep breath, his grip on her hips tightening subconsciously. "I received some news today," he said, his voice a little strained. "It's… it's something I need to deal with."

Olivia's mind immediately started racing with possibilities about what he was referring to. She could sense that whatever it was, it had upset him, which worried her. She gently rested her hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under her palm.

"Okay," she replied, her voice steady and supportive. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out together, Elliot. You know that."

A small, appreciative smile tugged at the corners of Elliot's lips. He squeezed her hips lightly in response, silently grateful for her unwavering support. "I know," he said quietly. "But this is something I need to handle alone."

Olivia's heart sank a little at his words, the sense of foreboding growing stronger. It wasn't like Elliot to shut her out like this, and it worried her. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face.

"Does this have anything to do with the blonde woman who approached me outside the precinct today?" she asked softly, her voice laced with suspicion and a hint of hurt. She wanted to be there for him, to share his burdens and help him through difficult times.

Elliot's eyes widened at her question, clearly taken by surprise. He was silent for a moment before responding. "What blonde woman?" he asked, his voice guarded.

Olivia recounted the strange encounter with the blonde woman outside the precinct. Her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and unease. She described the woman's appearance, the bandages on her wrists, and her knowledge of Olivia's name.

As Olivia spoke, Elliot's expression grew increasingly serious. His jaw clenched tightly, and he seemed visibly upset. When she finished her account, there was a moment of silence as Elliot processed her words.

"You're sure you've never seen her before?" he asked, his voice tight. Olivia shook her head, confused by Elliot's reaction. His reaction was odd. The woman didn't seem particularly threatening, but Elliot seemed almost rattled.

"I'm sure," she replied, furrowing her brow in concern. Elliot's behavior was only heightening her sense of foreboding. "Elliot, what's going on? You're scaring me."

Elliot's expression softened slightly as he saw the concern on Olivia's face. He sighed heavily, his hands running through his hair in frustration. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice quiet. "I don't mean to scare you. It's just..." He trailed off, clearly struggling to find the right words.

Olivia's heart pounded as she waited for him to continue. His vagueness was only adding to her anxiety. She reached out, taking his hand in hers, silently urging him to continue.

Elliot took a deep breath, his grip on her hand involuntarily tightening for a moment before he spoke again. "The blonde woman... her name is Dani Beck," he said finally, his voice low and reluctant.

Olivia's mind whirled at the name. "Dani Beck," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "Who is she, Elliot?"

Elliot hesitated, looking uncomfortable. "She's an ex-submissive of mine," he finally admitted, his gaze avoiding hers. Obviously, he didn't want to have this conversation, but he knew he had to tell her.

Olivia's heart skipped a beat at his words. She knew that Elliot was a dominant. Hell, she had been his next perspective submissive, but they were soulmates. He had thrown the contract to the side before she even had a chance to see it. Now, hearing about one of his past submissives made her insides twist in a mixture of jealousy and insecurity.

She tried to control her emotions, maintaining a neutral expression on her face. "I see," she said, her voice carefully measured. “And what does she want?"

Elliot looked back at her, his gaze finally meeting hers. His eyes were filled with a mixture of guilt and resignation. "She showed up here a week ago," he confessed quietly. "I wasn't here, but Mrs. Jones, the housekeeper, was. Dani slit her wrists in front of her. By the time I got to the hospital, she was gone. My team has been looking for her ever since.”

Olivia's eyes widened in shock and horror at Elliot's words. "Jesus, Elliot," she breathed, her hand flying up to cover her mouth in disbelief. The idea of someone harming themselves, let alone doing it in Elliot's home, filled her with a sense of dread.

Elliot tightened his grip on her hand and led her to his office. She sat as Elliot removed a file from the cabinet behind his desk. He gave her a moment to scan the file before he spoke. "She was my submissive for a little over a year," he said, his voice etched with remorse.

Olivia's heart sank at his words. Hearing him talk about a past submissive in such a manner was difficult. She knew that Elliot had been with others before her, and she accepted the way he was, but it still hurt. She tried to keep her emotions in check as she continued to read through the file.

The file contained various documents about Dani Beck - reports from Elliot's security team, medical records, and even some photos. “When did this end?”

Elliot looked at her, his expression laced with regret and resignation. "About a year and a half before I met you,“ he repeated, his voice low.

Olivia clenched her jaw, "Why did it end?" she asked, her voice betraying the emotions churning within her.

Elliot's expression darkened at her question. He paused momentarily, seeming to wrestle with how much to tell her. Finally, he spoke, his voice flat. "She wanted more. I didn't," he said. “I thought she had moved on. She got married, but her husband just died in a car crash a couple of weeks ago.”

As Olivia listened to his words, pieces of the puzzle slotted into place in her mind. The way the woman knew her name, the bandages on her wrists- everything was starting to make sense.

Olivia's heart pounded with jealousy, anger, and confusion. She closed the file with a firm slap against the desk, the sound echoing in the quiet room. She pushed it back towards him, the movement forceful and laced with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. “Where’s mine? Where’s the file you have on me?”

Elliot's eyes widened at her outburst, and the intensity of her reaction obviously took him aback. He hadn't expected her to react like this, but he knew he should've. He knew she'd have questions. He paused to compose himself before reluctantly taking another folder from the cabinet behind his desk.

He handed the file to Olivia, his hand trembling slightly. It contained reports, surveillance photos, and even her police records. She flipped through the pages, each detailing her most vulnerable moments, her life on display meticulously detailed.

Olivia felt exposed as she read through the file, the contents only adding to the sense of violation. But what hurt most was knowing that Elliot had a folder like this on her, a file that painted a stark picture of her life in cold, clinical terms. She scoffed, “This… this is… I have no words.”

Elliot looked at her with a mixture of guilt and remorse. He knew she would be upset, and he had hoped to avoid this discussion. But now, there was no turning back. "I know it looks bad," he began, his voice low. "But I have my team draw them up on every perspective submissive, Liv.”

Olivia's fingers gripped the folder tightly, her knuckles turning white. Every perspective submissive. That word cut through her like a blade. "Every perspective submissive," she echoed derisively. "How many have there been?”

Elliot sighed heavily, his jaw clenching as he braced himself for her reaction. He knew this conversation would hurt her, but he also knew she deserved the truth. "Twenty-three," he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.

Olivia's heart sank at his words. Twenty-three. She had thought there might have been a few, but not twenty-three. The number felt like a punch to her gut, each revelation only adding to her insecurity and hurt.

Her anger flared, her temper rising to the surface. "This is who you are, Elliot," she said, her voice tight with emotion. "You have files on every woman you've been with. Is that how you see me? Just another file?"

Elliot was taken aback by the pain in her voice. He could see the hurt in her eyes, and it broke his heart. "No, Liv, it's not like that," he protested, stepping towards her. "You're my soul mate. I love you. You know that."

Olivia shook her head, the hurt and anger in her voice palpable. "I don't know anything anymore, Elliot," she said, her voice cracking. "How did… how did you even get into this lifestyle?”

Elliot winced visibly. This was the moment he had dreaded. He knew she would eventually ask for the truth, but he was not looking forward to revealing this part of his past. He took a deep breath, steeling himself before he spoke. "It started when I was fifteen. One of my Mother's friends. I was her submissive for six years," he said, his voice low and gruff.

Olivia's eyes widened at his revelation. The idea of him being in a submissive relationship for six years and starting so young was mind-boggling to her. "Fifteen," she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elliot could feel the judgment in her tone, but he didn't blame her. He knew it sounded terrible. "It's not what you think," he hurried to say, his voice pleading. “She was kind. She took care of me. She helped me."

Olivia raised an eyebrow, her eyes hardening. "Took care of you," she echoed, her voice dripping with skepticism. "You were a CHILD, Elliot.”

Elliot closed his eyes, the pain of the past memories washing over him. "I know," he whispered, his voice hollow. "But I wasn't just any child. I had already lost my father. I was angry and reckless. I was on the path to self-destruction. She saved me from myself."

Olivia's heart ached as she listened to him. She understood his pain and the emptiness he had felt after losing his father. But the idea of a fifteen-year-old starting a life like that was hard for her to fathom. "She groomed you, Elliot," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "She took advantage of you."

"No," Elliot protested weakly. “She taught me discipline and control. She helped me gain focus and strength. I needed it.”

Olivia stood and began to pace, her voice rising. "You didn't need discipline and control, Elliot. You were a kid! You needed love, support, therapy. You needed someone to be there for you, not dominate you!”

Elliot's shoulders slumped, the weight of her words hitting him like a ton of bricks. He knew she was right. He had been so lost back then and didn't know how to cope appropriately. "Maybe you're right," he admitted, his voice low. "Maybe I did need something different. But that's not what I wanted at the time. I saw it as an escape, a way to shut out the pain of the world."

Olivia stopped pacing and looked at him, her eyes filled with compassion and frustration. "It was a coping mechanism, Elliot," she said, her voice more gentle now. “But that doesn't make it right, especially for a fifteen-year-old."

Elliot ran a hand through his hair, the emotions of their conversation overwhelming him. "I know," he whispered, his voice filled with the regret and shame of his past actions. "I know it wasn't right. But it's my past, Liv. It's a part of who I am. I can't change it.”

Olivia took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "What’s her name, Elliot?" she asked, her voice firm but gentle.

Elliot looked at her, his eyes a mix of surprise and resignation. He knew this question was coming. He sighed heavily, his voice barely above a whisper. "Jo Marlowe," he said, his gaze dropping to the ground.

Olivia's grip on the desk tightened as Elliot spoke the name. Jo Marlowe. The woman who had shaped his life in a way he was still grappling with. She let the name roll around in her mind momentarily before speaking. "Do you still talk to her?”

Elliot hesitated, not wanting to reveal the answer he knew would hurt her. "Yes," he confirmed finally, his voice low. "We talk occasionally."

Olivia clenched her jaw, fighting back the wave of jealousy and anger that washed over her. The fact that he still had contact with her, the woman who had taken advantage of him when he was fifteen, stirred a deep sense of resentment within her. "How often?" she asked, her voice tight.

Elliot shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He knew this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier to admit. "A few times a month," he responded, his voice low. "She‘s a business partner. It's mostly innocent, Liv. I promise."

Olivia clenched her hands into fists at her sides as she processed his words. "Mostly innocent," she echoed sarcastically. “You realize how much it hurts me knowing you talk to her, right? Knowing she still has access to you..."

Elliot looked up, his expression pleading. "It's just business, Liv. I don't want her in my life in any other way. I swear to you," he promised, his voice sincere.

Olivia wanted to believe him. She truly did. But the thought of Jo Marlowe, the woman who had molded him into the dominant he is today, still having a place in his life, even if it was just "mostly innocent," was like a dagger to her heart. "How can I trust that, Elliot?" she asked, her voice filled with pain and skepticism.

Elliot closed the distance between them, stepping in front of her. He gently placed his hands on her shoulders, his touch filled with tenderness. "Liv, look at me," he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. "I love you. You're my soul mate. You're the only woman I want. I swear to you, my conversations with Jo are strictly business. Nothing more."

Olivia looked at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She wanted to believe him, but the shadow of Jo Marlowe's influence loomed over them heavily. "It's not just about trust, Elliot," she whispered, her voice a mix of pain and frustration. "It's about the history you share with her. The impact she's had on you."

Elliot nodded, his grip on her shoulders tightening just slightly. "I know," he acknowledges, his voice filled with remorse. "But you have to believe me when I say that's the past. I'm not the same person I was back then. I've grown. I've changed. You're the only one that matters now, Liv. You're my future."

Olivia searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deception. She wanted so badly to believe his words, to let go of the jealousy and pain. But the idea that Jo Marlowe, the woman who had shaped him into the dominant he is today, still had a place in his life, even just as a business partner, felt like a constant reminder of his past. "I don't know if I can," she admitted, her voice soft and fragile, tears streaming down her face now. “I need time. This… all of this is… too much. I want to… no, I need to go home.”

Elliot's heart shattered at the sight of her tears, and he pulled her into a tight embrace. "Please don't go," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "We can talk about this more and figure it out together. I can't lose you, Liv. You're everything to me."

Olivia allowed herself to be enveloped in his arms, her emotions teetering on the brink of breakdown. She wanted to believe him, to believe that they could work through this, but the hurt and jealousy she felt were still too raw. "I can't," she repeated, her voice a whisper against his chest. "Not right now. I just... I need space."

Elliot's arms tightened around her, his voice thick with emotion. He knew he couldn't force her to stay, but the thought of her leaving, of not having her in his life, was unbearable. "Please," he murmured, his voice filled with desperation. "Just give me a chance to make this right. I can find a way to cut ties with Jo completely. I'll do anything; please, just don't walk away.”

Olivia pulled back just enough to look up at him, her gaze vulnerable and pained. The thought of him severing his connection with Jo was tempting, but the jealousy and pain she felt remained. "I want to believe you, Elliot," she murmured, her voice choked with tears. "But I... I can’t think right now. I just need to go home and process all of this. Please."

Elliot swallowed hard, his hands gently tracing along her jawline. He could see the hurt and doubt in her eyes, which tore at his heart. "Okay," he whispered, though the word felt like a dagger to his soul. "Taylor will take you. I'll give you space. But please, Liv... please don't shut me out. We can get through this. I know we can."

Olivia nodded, the tears still streaming down her face. She pulled away from his embrace, her movements slow and aching. "I just need some time, Elliot. Just... just give me time," she repeated, her voice almost a whisper as she approached the exit.

Elliot watched her go, his heart breaking with every step she took away from him. As the door to his office swung shut behind her, he was left standing there, the weight of their conversation and the potential loss of her hanging heavily in the air.

Hours passed, and as the night deepened, Elliot found himself pacing around his penthouse, consumed by worry and guilt. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Olivia's look of pain and betrayal. His heart was heavy with the weight of their turbulent conversation. With each passing moment, the fear grew, the uncertainty of where their relationship stood gnawing at his soul.

His eyes flicked to the clock above the fireplace. It was late, but he didn't care. He knew Olivia was probably tucked away in her apartment, hurting and likely crying, and his heart ached to go to her. But he promised her space, and he intended to give it, even if it killed him.

One Week Later…

Olivia sat silently in her apartment, her gaze fixed on the city lights outside her window. It had been days since she had left Elliot's penthouse, and the silence in her apartment was deafening. The words they exchanged weighed heavily on her heart, and she replayed their conversation repeatedly in her mind. The pain and hurt were interwoven with the moments they'd shared. The memories of his touch lingered, the sensation of his hands on her skin still etched in her memory.

She had given herself time, just as she had asked Elliot. But the more time she spent in solitude, the more doubt and fear crept in—doubt that he could truly sever ties with Jo without resentment, fear that the demons of his past would forever shadow their relationship.

The next day, Olivia sat at her desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork. Despite her best efforts to focus on her work, her thoughts drifted back to Elliot. The silence between them had stretched for days, and the worry and uncertainty tugged at her heart. She glanced at her phone, silently willing it to ring, but it remained still and quiet.

She knew she had created this distance between them, but the longer the silence persisted, the more the doubt and fear crept in. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Elliot's face twisted with pain, his voice filled with desperation. Every fiber of her being ached to reach out, talk to him, and try and fix things.

Olivia’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the elevator signaling the arrival of a visitor. She looked up to see Elliot standing there, his expression stoic, his eyes betraying nothing. Her heart skipped a beat, and her stomach twisted into knots. He crossed the room slowly to stand beside her desk.

"Liv, Can we talk?" he asked gruffly.

Olivia’s heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. She sat up a little straighter in her chair, her eyes flickering over his face, trying to gauge his mood. "Yeah," she managed to reply, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, we can talk."

He nodded silently, then gestured towards the interrogation room down the hall. "Let's go somewhere a little more private," he said simply. The coldness in his voice sent a chill down her spine, but she knew she had to follow him. She stood up, her knees feeling wobbly, and followed him down the hall.

As soon as the door to the interrogation room closed behind them, the oppressive silence between them seemed to grow even thicker. Olivia stood a few feet away from him, her hands clasped together in front of her, her eyes focused on a spot on the floor. Elliot leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression guarded.

"Elliot," she began, her voice soft, her eyes finally meeting his. “I..." She trailed off, her words stuck in her throat. The mix of feelings inside her — love, hurt, fear, guilt — made it difficult to articulate her thoughts.

“Just say it, Olivia,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “Say whatever you need to say. I’m listening.”

Nick, Fin, and Munch were huddled together in Cragen's office, watching the scene unfold in the interrogation room through the one-way glass.

“I knew something was up with her,” Nick mumbled, his eyes wide.

Fin nodded in agreement, his arms folded across his chest. "Yeah, she's been off her game the last few days. I just thought it might have been a case getting to her."

Leaning against the desk, Munch asked, "What are they fighting about, anyway?"

Nick shrugged, his eyes still fixed on the couple in the interrogation room. "Beats me. Whatever it is, it's got them both pretty worked up."

Fin tilted his head as he observed their body language. "She's keeping her distance," he noted. "She's not making eye contact, folding in on herself. She looks...afraid."

Her hands twisted together nervously, her eyes flickering up to his face and then back down to the floor. "I don't know where to start, Elliot," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's so much I want to say, so much I want to ask. But I'm just... I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" he asked, his tone softer. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer to her but kept a noticeable distance between them.

Her eyes finally met his, the fear and vulnerability clear in her expression. "Scared of losing you," she admitted, her voice shaky. "Scared of saying the wrong thing, of making things worse. I..." She took a shaky breath. "I'm scared of opening up and getting hurt again. I'm scared of you running to Jo, instead of me."

The mention of Jo's name sent a pang of guilt through him, but he kept his expression neutral. "Is that really what you think, Olivia? That if we have an argument, I'm just going to run back to her?"

"I don't know, Elliot," she replied truthfully, her voice trembling. "Maybe not consciously, but... but I can't help but feel like you're still holding onto something from your past with her. Like a part of you still belongs to her, not me. And it scares me. It scares me because I—" She cut herself off, afraid of revealing too much.

Nick's brow furrowed while listening to the conversation, and he exchanged a concerned look with Fin and Munch. He could see the raw emotion in Olivia's eyes, the fear and uncertainty. “Who the f*ck is Jo?”

"Jo Marlowe. She's Elliot's ex," Fin explained quietly, his eyes still on the scene in the interrogation room. "She was..." Fin trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

Munch huffed. "Let's just say she's a bit more than just an ex."

Elliot's eyes softened just a fraction, his expression becoming less guarded. "Say it, Olivia," he coaxed quietly. "Finish the sentence."

Olivia hesitated for a moment, her throat tight with emotion. "Because I love you," she managed to get out, her voice barely above a whisper. "I love you so much it scares me. And I can't stand the thought of losing you, of you turning to someone else instead of me." Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

Fin's expression softened as he watched the raw emotion unfolding. "Damn," he muttered under his breath.

Munch remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a hint of empathy.

Nick's jaw tensed as he witnessed Olivia's vulnerability. He couldn't help but feel protective over her, even from his spot in Cragen's office. “I haven't even met the guy, and I want to kick his ass.”

Fin smirked. "You'll get your chance eventually."

Munch chuckled dryly. "I'll bring the popcorn."

Elliot's expression softened even more, his emotions stirring within him. He took another step closer, closing the gap between them just a little. "Olivia," he began gruffly, his voice a little rougher than usual. "I'm not going to run to Jo. I was her submissive for six years but I'm with you. I'm committed to you. Nothing is going to change that," he explained, his voice low and quiet. “And she's a business partner," he reminded, his eyes flickering away from hers.

Nick, Fin, and Munch's eyes widened at Elliot's confession.

"A submissive," Nick repeated quietly, his surprise evident.

"What the f*ck," Fin said, looking shocked.

Munch leaned back in his chair, a smirk spreading across his face. "He probably has a closet at home full of leather cuffs and whips," he said.

Nick rolled his eyes, trying to suppress a grin. "Thanks for that image, Munch."

Fin looked a little amused. "That dude does not look like a submissive.”

Munch chuckled. "I think he's switched sides, Fin."

They all went quiet again, focusing on the scene unfolding in the interrogation room.

Olivia's heart constricted at his words, and she swallowed hard to contain the wave of jealousy and insecurity. "And that's all?" she asked, her voice tinged with bitterness.

Elliot's eyes met hers again, his expression earnest. "That's all," he confirmed. "I swear, Liv. There's nothing left between us - no emotions, no connection. We're just business partners. Nothing more."

Olivia wanted desperately to believe him, but her heart was still clouded with doubt and insecurity. She took a step back, needing the space between them. "I want to believe you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I do. But it's hard, Elliot. It's so hard when she’s the reason you’re a dominant now.”

Nick, Fin, and Munch exchanged confused looks in Cragen's office. Nick glanced at Fin. "Did you know about this?" he whispered, keeping his tone low.

Fin shook his head in disbelief. "Not a clue."

Fin leaned over to Munch. "Wait. Does that mean Liv is his submissive now?"

Nick's mind was racing with thoughts and confusion, and he couldn't help but feel a mix of anger and protectiveness over Liv. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white. "Why the hell would she agree to that?" he muttered between gritted teeth.

Fin shot a concerned look at Nick. "Calm down, man," he said urgently. "We don't even know if she—"

But Nick's anger was already flaring, his protective instincts taking over. "She's smarter than that. She wouldn't let herself get involved in something like that, would she?"

Munch interrupted, his tone serious. "Gentlemen, focus. We're just speculating here. We don't know what's going on behind those doors. Let's just watch and see how it unfolds."

Elliot winced at her words, the truth in them hitting him like a punch to the gut. "I know," he said quietly. He stepped closer again, bridging the distance between them. "But I'm with you now, Olivia. You're the one I want to be with. I promise you, there's nothing left between me and Jo. It's all in the past."

He reached out and cupped her face in his hand. His fingers traced gently down her cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. "Look at me," he said softly, his eyes holding hers captive. “I love you, Olivia. You're the only one I want. Believe me."

Olivia's eyes filled with tears, her heart aching with hope and fear. She wanted so badly to believe him, to trust in his words. But her insecurities and her fears still held her back. "I want to," she whispered, her voice shaking. "But...what if—"

Elliot cut her off, his finger gently pressing against her lips. "No more what-ifs," he said firmly. "No more doubts or fears. I'm choosing you, Olivia. I'm choosing you every day." He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, his warm breath tickling her skin. "Just trust me, Liv. Please."

Nick watched from behind the one-way glass, his heart hammering in his chest. "This is bullsh*t," he muttered, clenching his fists again. His mind was filled with an array of emotions - anger, jealousy, worry. The thought of Elliot dominating Liv like that... made his blood boil.

Fin shot a worried look at Nick, noticing the anger radiating off him. "Hey, man, calm down," he said quietly. "You can't go charging in there all hotheaded."

Nick clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath. He knew Fin was right, but the protective instincts were hard to ignore. "I can't just sit here and watch him control her," he managed to get out, his voice strained.

Fin put a hand on his arm, attempting to soothe him. "We don't know that's what's happening," he said, his voice steady. "We're just assuming. She’s our friend, man, and your partner. Trust her."

Nick's shoulders sagged. Fin's words made sense, but his protective nature was hard to suppress. "I trust her," he muttered, "but I don't trust him. Not when it comes to her."

Olivia's eyes fluttered shut as she leaned into him, her body seeking his comfort and warmth. Her heart was still scared, her mind still tumultuous with doubts and insecurities. But as Elliot's arms encircled her, holding her tightly against him, she felt a sliver of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could start to trust again. "I'm trying," she whispered, her voice small and vulnerable.

Elliot's arms tightened around her, holding her close. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the familiar scent. "I know it's hard," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But we'll get through this, Liv. Together. I promise."

Olivia nodded silently, her body pressed against his, her ear resting against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Her fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him like a lifeline. His words echoed in her mind, slowly pushing back the darkness and fear that had clouded her heart. 'I'm choosing you.'

They stood there in silence for several minutes, the only sound being the steady rhythm of their breathing. Elliot's arms remained a comforting and protective enclosure around her, his body a source of constant reassurance. Slowly, Olivia felt some of the tension and fear begin to melt away.

"We're going to be okay," Elliot whispered, his chin resting on top of her head. "I want you to come home, baby.”

Munch couldn't help but chime in. "This is all very heartwarming," he commented sarcastically. "Almost makes you forget how messed up this situation is."

Nick shot a glare at Munch, his frustration building. "Would you shut up?" he snapped. But his attention quickly shifted back to the one-way glass as Elliot continued talking to Olivia.

Olivia's heart ached at the simple but powerful words. Home. That's what Elliot was to her — home. And despite the hurt and confusion of the last few days, she still longed for the comfort and security of his embrace. “I want to,” she whispered, her voice small and timid.

Elliot gently lifted her chin with his thumb, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Then come home," he said, his voice almost a growl. “I want you in our bed, sleeping beside me where you belong. No more staying at your apartment, no more distancing yourself from me."

Nick clenched his fists as he listened to Elliot's possessive words. “Who the hell does he think he is?” he muttered under his breath. “He can't just command her like that.”

Nick's anger continued to build as he watched Elliot's possessive behavior toward Olivia. "He's manipulating her," he muttered between clenched teeth. "He's trying to control her. I’m going in there."

Fin quickly grabbed Nick's arm as he stood up. "Nick, you can't just barge in there," he warned, keeping his voice low.

Nick shook off Fin's grip, his eyes still fixed on the scene unfolding before him. "Like hell, I can’t," he ground out, his anger boiling over.

Fin saw the determined look in Nick's eyes and knew there was no changing his mind. Reluctantly, he let go of his arm. "Alright, man," he sighed. "But don't come crying to me when she gets pissed.”

Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine at the possessive tone in his voice, and her heart skipped a beat. She wanted to argue and protest, to hold onto her independence and her right to distance herself when she needed it. But the look in his eyes — a combination of love, determination, and dominance — made her weak.

Elliot saw the warring emotions in her eyes, the hint of defiance in her expression. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, commanding murmur. "I want you with me, Liv. I want to feel your body pressed against mine, your skin under my hands. I need you. Please.”

Olivia's resistance crumbled at his words, at the raw, desperate need in his voice. She swallowed hard, her body responding to his tone and the memories of his touch. "I need you too," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

Nick clenched his jaw, his mind made up. With one last look at Fin, he pushed away from his chair and headed towards the interrogation room.

Elliot's arms around her tightened even further, pulling her flush against his body. His eyes darkened with desire and possession. "Then say you'll come home," he commanded quietly, his voice deep and authoritative.

Olivia's heart fluttered at the command in his voice, and a shiver of anticipation ran through her. She knew she shouldn't give in, shouldn't let him dictate her life. But the look in his eyes, the way he held her close... It was too much to resist. “I'll come home," she said quietly, her voice a mix of resignation and surrender.

Olivia and Elliot broke apart at the sound of the door opening, and Olivia turned to see Nick standing there, his expression thunderous.

"Nick," she began, her voice filled with surprise and unease. Before she could say anything more, Nick cut her off with a growl.

"What the hell is going on here?" Nick demanded, striding into the room. His eyes were fixed on Elliot, who remained standing next to Olivia.

"Nick, wait—" Olivia tried to intervene, her voice calm and placating. But Nick wasn't listening. His eyes flicked from Olivia to Elliot and back again, his anger and protectiveness clear on his face.

"Don't just stand there all cozy with him," he snapped at Olivia, gesturing towards Elliot with an angry wave of his hand. "Why the hell are you letting him talk to you like that?"

Olivia glanced at Elliot, who was standing tense and silent beside her. She could see his anger and possessiveness radiating off him, but he kept a tight leash on his emotions. She looked back at Nick, her own frustration mounting.

"Nick, calm down," she said firmly, stepping between him and Elliot. "This is between me and Elliot. It's none of your business."

Nick clenched his jaw, his eyes blazing with anger. "Like hell, it's not my business," he growled. You're my partner, Liv. I can't just stand by and watch him manipulate you."

"He's not manipulating me," Olivia retorted, her frustration starting to show. "This is complicated, Nick, and you don't understand—"

"Oh, I understand, alright," he snapped, his voice rising. "I understand that he's trying to control you and thinks he can just waltz back into your life and make all the rules. But I'm not gonna let him, Liv. You deserve better than him."

Olivia's heart clenched at Nick's words. She knew he meant well, knew he was trying to protect her. But his anger and interference felt suffocating like he was trying to make decisions for her. "Nick, I can take care of myself," she said, her voice taking on an edge. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me."

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his eyes narrowing. "Then why are you letting him pull you back into whatever messed up relationship you two had? He's not good for you, Liv. He’s a dom, which means you’re his sub. That sh*t is not right, and it's dangerous.”

Elliot's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. He stepped forward, putting himself beside Olivia, his eyes flickering angrily towards Nick. "Olivia is not my submissive," he growled.

"Bullsh*t," Nick shot back, his eyes locking with Elliot's. "I saw the way you were commanding her, the way she obeyed. You’re trying to control her.”

Elliot's eyes darkened, his anger rising. "You don't know what the hell you're talking about," he snapped. "Our relationship is none of your goddamn business."

"Like hell it's not," Nick retorted, not backing down an inch. "Olivia's my partner, my friend. If you think I'm just going to let you hurt her—"

"Who says I'm going to hurt her?" Elliot cut in, his voice rising. “I love her—more than anything. I'd never hurt her."

"Yeah, right," Nick scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “You've already done a pretty good job of it in the past, haven't you? From what I've gathered, she left you and has been staying at her apartment because you cheated. And now you're trying to pull her back into this messed-up power play."

Elliot clenched his jaw at the accusation, his eyes boring into Nick. "That's not what happened," he said through gritted teeth.

"No?" Nick challenged his anger mounting. "Then what happened, Stabler? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you hurt her, and now you're back trying to manipulate her into getting back into a relationship that's clearly not healthy for her."

"You think you know what's best for her?" Elliot snapped, his voice low and dangerous. "You think you could somehow give her a better life than I could? I know her better than anyone. You have no goddamn idea what you're talking about."

Nick laughed cynically. "I know she's a strong, independent woman. I know she deserves someone who respects and values her as an equal partner. And I sure as hell know she deserves better than you."

Elliot's face twisted with anger, his hands clenching into fists. "You think I don't respect her?" he hissed. "You think I don't value her? I love her more than you could ever understand. I'd do anything for her. And you’re damn right about one thing, she does deserve better than me because I’m fifty shades of f*cked up. But goddamn, I love her, and nothing is going to change that.”

Nick’s eyes flicked between Elliot and Olivia, his expression conflicted. He could see the sincerity on Elliot's face, the raw emotion in his voice. And he saw the way Olivia watched Elliot, the way her body angled towards him, drawn to him despite their argument.

Nick's shoulders slumped slightly, his anger fading into resignation. He took a step back, rubbing a hand over his face. "I just don’t want to see her get hurt," he said quietly. "She's like family to me, and I can't stand the thought of someone taking advantage of her."

"I know," Elliot said, his voice softer now, less defensive. "I get it. You care about her, and I'm glad she has someone looking out for her."

Nick nodded, his eyes flicking to Olivia, still standing silently between them. He sighed, his gaze softening. "Just... don't screw this up, man," he said gruffly. "And if you hurt her, I'll personally rip your heart out. Billionaire or not.”

Elliot's lips curved into a small, humorless smile. "Noted," he said dryly.

There was a moment of tense silence, and then Olivia reached out, placing a hand on Nick's arm. "I’m okay, Nick," she said quietly.

Nick looked at her, his eyes searching her face for any sign of distress. When he saw only exhaustion, he nodded. "Just... be careful, Liv," he said gruffly. "I mean it."

Olivia smiled faintly. "I will," she assured him. "I promise."

As the tension in the room began to ease, Olivia turned to look at Elliot. He met her gaze, his expression guarded but his eyes full of love, worry, and possessiveness.

There was a moment of silent communication between them, a look passing between them that spoke volumes. Olivia swallowed, her heart racing as she held his gaze.

The conversation with Nick had left her feeling raw and exposed, and in that moment, she craved the safety and security she knew Elliot could give her. She stepped closer to him, drawn to him like a magnet.

Elliot's body seemed to relax as she closed the distance between them. One of his hands lifted to cradle her face, his touch both gentle and possessive. He leaned in, his voice barely a murmur. "Let’s go home, baby."

Olivia nodded, her heart fluttering at his words. Home. That’s where she wanted to be. She wanted to be with him, in his arms, surrounded by his presence. Even though there were still so many things they needed to talk about, so many unresolved issues between them, at that moment, all she wanted was the comfort and safety of his embrace.

Without another word, Elliot wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close against him. The protective gesture was comforting and possessive, and Olivia found herself snuggling closer, her head resting on his chest.

They walked silently towards the elevator, the silence not uncomfortable but heavy with the weight of the unspoken words between them. As the elevator doors slid shut, locking them in a small space, Elliot pulled her more tightly against him, his hand running absentmindedly over her back.

In the privacy of the elevator, Elliot couldn't hold back any longer. He leaned down, nuzzling his face into her neck, inhaling her scent. His lips grazed her skin, sending shivers down her spine.

Olivia let out a soft sigh, her body melting against his. She tilted her head to give him better access, her eyes drifting closed as his lips trailed down her neck, leaving a trail of gentle kisses.

Elliot continued his exploration, his mouth moving over her collarbone, his hands roaming over her body. He pushed her against the wall of the elevator, trapping her between the cold surface and his hard body.

Olivia gasped softly as he pressed against her, her hands coming up to grip his shirt, pulling him even closer. Her body responded instinctively to his touch, arching towards him, aching for more.

Elliot could feel the desire radiating off her, her body responding to his every touch like a well-tuned instrument. He pulled back slightly to look at her, his eyes dark with lust. “God, I’ve missed this,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. His hands slid under her shirt, caressing the bare skin of her stomach and waist.

Olivia's breath hitched as his hands skimmed over her skin, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her. Her hands moved to his hair, her fingers threading through the soft strands. “I’ve missed you,” she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve missed this so much, El.”

Elliot growled softly, his lips capturing hers in a hungry kiss. His tongue plunged into her mouth, claiming her, his body pressing hers even harder into the wall. One of his hands slid lower, over the curve of her hip, down to her thigh, his touch possessive and dominant.

As the elevator doors slid open, Elliot reluctantly released her, pulling back from their kiss. His hand lingered on her lower back, guiding her out of the elevator and out of the precinct to Taylor, who was awaiting them by the SUV.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the heat of Elliot's touch. They walked briskly towards the SUV, Elliot's hand still firmly guiding her. Taylor opened the back door for them, and Elliot ushered her into the car.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Elliot slid in beside her, pulling her against him. “Home,” he said to Taylor, his arm wrapped possessively around her shoulders. Olivia leaned into him, her head resting on his shoulder as the car smoothly pulled away from the curb.

The car ride was quiet, the air thick with tension and anticipation. Elliot's hand stroked her arm absently, his touch both soothing and arousing. Olivia's heart raced, her body tingling with every brush of his fingers against her skin.

She glanced up at him, taking in his profile in the dim light of the car. He looked pensive, his jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on a point out the window. She couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind.

Reaching up, she tentatively touched his cheek, turning his face towards her. His eyes flicked to hers, his expression guarded. She searched his face, trying to read his thoughts. "El," she said quietly. "What are you thinking about?"

Elliot's gaze softened as it met hers. He let out a slow breath, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Just thinking about how good it feels to have you back in my arms," he admitted, his voice gruff. "And about how scared I am of messing things up again.”

Olivia's heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. She placed her hand over his, holding it against her cheek. "I’m scared, too," she whispered. "But I trust you, El. I believe in us.”

Elliot's eyes darkened, her words sending a surge of emotion through him. He reached up with his other hand, framing her face and pulling her closer. "I love you," he said, his voice rough with emotion. "So damn much. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Olivia's eyes welled with tears, her throat clogging with emotion. "You're not going to lose me," she reassured him. She reached down, taking his large hand in hers, linking their fingers. "We're in this together, remember? For better or worse."

Elliot nodded, his grip on her hand tightening. "For better or worse," he echoed. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers. They stayed like that for the remainder of the car ride, breathing each other in, their fingers intertwined.

Chapter 9: On Display

Chapter Text

Two days later, Olivia stood in front of the full-length mirror, trying to adjust her dress. Elliot had chosen the dark gray, floor-length silk gown she wore, and it clung to her figure in all the right places. As a detective, she was used to dealing with victims, perps, and crime scenes, not rubbing shoulders with the wealthy elite.

But when Elliot told her about the Stablers' annual charity ball, she couldn't say no. It was important to him, and she was determined to be supportive, even if the idea of mingling with high society made her stomach churn.

The door behind her opened, and Elliot walked in. His tuxedo-clad frame was a vision of perfection, and his eyes widened as he took in her reflection. "Damn," he breathed, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. "You look incredible, baby."

Olivia turned to him, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You don't look too bad yourself," she teased. She smoothed a hand down his lapel, the expensive fabric cool and silky under her touch.

Elliot caught her hand, pulling her closer. His eyes darkened as they roamed over her, lingering in all the places the dress clung to her curves. His free hand slid to her hip, his thumb brushing over the soft fabric there. "You know I can't keep my hands off you when you wear a dress like this," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

Olivia felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. "Behave," she admonished, but her voice was more breathless than stern. She knew he could see the effect he had on her, the way her pulse fluttered in her neck, and her chest rose and fell a bit faster.

Elliot chuckled, his fingers tracing a path over her collarbone. "You expect me to behave when you look like this?" he asked. "You're practically begging for me to misbehave."

Olivia's cheeks flushed pink, the truth in his words leaving her flustered. She opened her mouth to reply, but a loud knock on the door cut off whatever she was about to say. "Mr. Stabler," Taylor’s voice called from the other side. "We’re running behind schedule, sir. We need to leave soon to be on time for the ball.”

Elliot sighed, his fingers tightening on her hip as if he was reluctant to let go. "Coming," he called back. He looked back at Olivia, his eyes regretful. "I’d rather stay here and make you forget about the damn ball," he admitted huskily.

Olivia chuckled, though she secretly wished they could do just that. "Later," she promised, patting his chest. "After the ball, you can have me all to yourself."

Elliot's expression darkened, his grip on her hip tightening even further. "I’m going to hold you to that, Detective," he warned, his voice rough. He leaned in, his lips brushing her ear. "And I fully intend to keep you up all night."

Olivia’s breath hitched at his whispered words, her body responding instantly to the promise in his voice and the heat in his eyes. She swallowed hard, trying to compose herself. "Let’s go," she said, gently pushing him towards the door. "We can’t keep your mother waiting.”

As they left the bedroom, Olivia cast one last look in the mirror, steeling herself for the evening ahead. She could do this. It was just one night, and she had Elliot by her side. Together, they could handle whatever the evening threw at them.

The drive to the ball was quiet. Elliot stared out the window, lost in thought. Olivia watched him quietly, a mix of nervousness and excitement coursing through her. This was new territory for her, and she had no idea what to expect from the event. She wasn’t one to fit in with the upper-class crowd. But Elliot had reassured her that she had nothing to worry about, that he would be by her side the entire evening.

Olivia's breath caught in her throat as they pulled up in front of the grand event venue. It was a stately building, lit with soft lights and surrounded by lush gardens. Valets swarmed the driveway, opening the car doors and ushering guests to the entrance.

Olivia looked quizzically at the small box in Elliot's hand as they exited the car. He smiled at her, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "One more thing," he said, opening the box to reveal a masquerade mask. "Did I forget to tell you it is a masquerade charity ball?"

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise. "A masquerade ball?" she echoed, her voice tinged with trepidation. She took the box from him, carefully lifting the mask from its velvet confines. It was beautiful, a delicate, gray lace confection with intricate silver detailing on the edges.

"Yeah, babe," Elliot began as he reassured her, noticing her expression. “Mother demands them because of the charity auction." He took the mask from her hand and moved behind her. His fingers brushed against her hair, sweeping the strands up into an elegant twist before gently securing the mask onto her face.

Olivia shivered under his touch, his fingers against her skin sending a wave of heat through her body. She reached up tentatively, feeling the cool weight of the mask against her face. It was strange to wear one, but at the same time, it felt exciting, almost forbidden, to be partially obscured and hidden.

Elliot stepped back, his gaze roaming over her appreciatively. The mask covered half of her face, highlighting the slope of her nose and the curve of her lips. "Perfect," he said, his voice gruff. He extended his hand to her, a gesture both chivalrous and possessive. "Ready?"

Olivia placed her hand in his, her heart beating faster with each step towards the entrance. "As I'll ever be," she replied, her voice betraying just a hint of her nerves. They walked up the steps, the soft glow of the lights guiding their way.

As they stepped into the grand lobby, Olivia gasped at the sight that greeted them. The interior of the building was a masterpiece of luxury, from the high arched ceilings to the elaborate marble flooring. Candelabras cast a warm, flickering light over the space, making the gold-trimmed white walls and glittering crystals on the light fixtures sparkle.

The room was alive with the hum of conversation and laughter. People dressed in elegant gowns and tailored tuxedos mingled and socialized. Servers moved through the crowd, offering champagne and small hors d'oeuvres on silver trays.

Olivia felt a pang of nervousness as she took in the scene. She felt out of place here, like a fish out of water. These people were so different from her, so far removed from the world she was used to. She stole a glance at Elliot, seeking reassurance in his eyes.

Elliot squeezed her hand, silently reassuring her. He could sense her unease, her discomfort at being surrounded by this lavish display. He leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he spoke. "Relax, baby," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "I'm right here."

His words were like a balm to her nerves, and she took a deep breath, trying to relax her tensed shoulders. She smiled at him, grateful for his presence. "I know," she whispered back. "I just... I don’t feel like I belong here."

Elliot's expression softened, his gaze warm and unwavering. "You belong wherever I am," he asserted firmly. "I don’t want you to feel out of place, Liv. You’re here because you’re with me."

Olivia’s heart swelled at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. She looked up at him, her eyes locking with his. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice sincere. His unwavering support was what she needed to get through the evening.

As they made their way deeper into the ballroom, a familiar voice interrupted them. "Elliot! Olivia!" Bernie Stabler's voice rang out, and soon, the woman herself appeared, looking every bit the wealthy socialite in her elegant green gown and sparkling jewelry.

Bernie Stabler was a short, striking woman in her late sixties with sharp, intelligent eyes and a charismatic smile. She was the matriarch of the Stabler family, and she held herself with confidence and grace, befitting her status. "There you are," she said, approaching them with a champagne flute.

"Mother," Elliot greeted, his voice a mix of fondness and resignation. He bent down to place a kiss on his mother's cheek. "You look lovely tonight," he added politely.

"Thank you, dear," Bernie replied, affectionately patting his cheek. Then her gaze shifted to Olivia, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in the mask and the revealing dress.

"Olivia, dear," she said, a hint of condescension in her voice. What a lovely gown. It fits you like a glove."

Olivia felt a pang of self-consciousness at Bernie's words. She felt like the older woman saw right through her, could see the cracks in her facade of confidence and polish. "Thank you, Bernie," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

"You need to eat something," Bernie declared before they could say anything else. "And drink something. Both of you. I'll have one of the waiters bring you some champagne."

"Mother—" Elliot started, his tone hinting at a warning. But Bernie had already turned away, hailing a nearby server and gesticulating towards them.

A moment later, a waiter appeared beside them, a tray of champagne flutes in his hands. Elliot took two glasses, passing one to Olivia. Their eyes met as their fingers brushed, and he offered her a reassuring smile. She took a small sip of her champagne, the bubbles tingling against her lips.

The alcohol was cool and crisp, and Olivia could feel its effects instantly, a pleasant warmth spreading through her. She could already tell she would need a few more to get her through the evening without snapping at one of the privileged, wealthy attendees.

They continued through the room, stopping occasionally as Elliot introduced her to his mother's socialite friends and acquaintances. The women's eyes raked over Olivia subtly as they were introduced, their smiles polite but slightly patronizing. On the other hand, the men seemed to size her up in a completely different way, their gazes lingering a little too long on her body.

Elliot noticed the attention she was drawing, and he kept close to her side, keeping her within his arm's reach at all times. He didn’t like how the men looked at her, sizing her up like she was a piece of meat.

Olivia couldn't help but feel increasingly out of her depth as they continued to circulate. She wasn’t used to this kind of environment, where every word she uttered was scrutinized, where one wrong move could mark her as “unsuitable.” She could feel her nerves getting the better of her, and her polite smile started to feel increasingly strained.

Elliot seemed to sense her anxiety, and he steered them away from the group they were talking to, finding a secluded corner to stand in. He leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on hers. "You okay?" he asked quietly.

Olivia met his gaze, her eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I’m fine," she said, the lie slipping out quickly. She took another sip of her champagne, the liquid burning down her throat.

Elliot's expression was skeptical. "You’re not fine," he countered, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, knowing smile. "You're about to crawl out of your skin."

Olivia chuckled despite herself. He knew her too well. "Is it that obvious?" she muttered, her gaze darting back to the crowd.

"Only to me," he assured her, his voice soft. He reached out, his fingers trailing down her bare arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "Don’t let these people get to you."

She shivered at his touch, the feel of his fingers on her skin sending a jolt of electricity through her. "I’m trying,” she admitted, a small sigh escaping. “But I feel like they’re analyzing me like they’re just waiting for me to mess up.”

His hand moved to the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. "They’re just curious," he said, his voice low. "They’re not used to seeing me with anyone.“

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, the possessiveness in his tone making her stomach flutter. She placed her hand on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat under her palm. "And they’re wondering why you’re with me," she muttered a hint of insecurity in her voice.

He could sense her uncertainty, and he took her chin in his hand, tilting her face to look at him. "Because you’re the most beautiful woman in the room," he said firmly. There was a certainty in his voice that made her breath hitch.

A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, her insecurities diminishing under the weight of his conviction. Her hand moved up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "You’re just saying that," she murmured, a hint of challenge in her voice.

His gaze darkened slightly at her tease, a spark of heat flickering in his eyes. "Do you want me to prove it to you?" he countered, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss against the soft skin of her wrist.

She swallowed hard, her pulse jumping at his touch. The heat of his lips against her skin was like a brand, sending a wave of desire through her. They were in public, surrounded by people, but his touch was so intimate it was as if they were alone. "And how would you do that?" she replied, her voice suddenly huskier.

He stepped closer to her, his body pressing against hers briefly. The feel of him so close, his chest mere inches from hers, made her head spin. "I'd start by saying how perfect you look in this dress," he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "How every man in this room is watching you, wishing they were me."

Her body reacted to his words and proximity, and another shiver ran through her. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, and it was driving her crazy. "Is that so?" she managed to say, her voice shakier than she would have liked.

"Mhmm," he responded, his lips moving down to the line of her throat. He softly kissed the spot beneath her ear, his tongue lightly tracing the sensitive skin. His hand moved to her hip, his fingers gripping the fabric of her dress. "And how all those men are jealous that I'm the one who gets to touch you like this."

Her breath quickened, her eyelids fluttering closed at the feel of his mouth on her skin. His hold on her was possessive, his fingers digging into her hip, making her toes curl. "And what else would you do?" she managed to ask, her voice little more than a breathless whisper.

He smirked at his effect on her, the knowledge that he could reduce her to a quivering mess with a few simple touches filling him with a primal satisfaction. "I'd say how they all wish they could see what you look like out of this dress," he murmured, his lips moving to the hollow of her collarbone.

She whimpered softly, her hands coming up to grasp his shoulders, her knees feeling suddenly weak. His words and his touch were driving her crazy, the heat pooling low in her belly, making her head spin. "Elliot," she breathed, his name a mix of a plea and a warning.

He chuckled, the sound low and gravelly, his mouth moving back up her throat. He nipped at her pulse point lightly, his teeth scraping against her skin. "I'd tell them how I know exactly what you sound like when you're writhing underneath me," he murmured, pulling her even closer to him.

Her breath caught in her throat, his words sending a jolt of heat straight to her core. Memories of his hands on her, his body against hers, flashed through her mind. She was barely aware of the people around them, her entire focus on him and the way he was making her feel. "Elliot," she gasped, her voice barely audible. "We're in public."

He pulled back slightly, looking at her with hooded eyes. "I know," he said, his voice's huskiness betraying his desire. His thumb caressed the curve of her hip, his hand burning through the thin fabric of her dress. "But it's driving me crazy seeing all these men looking at you, wanting what's mine."

A part of her preened at his words, his jealousy and possessiveness stirring a primal sense of belonging within her. But another part of her was worried about the attention they were drawing. "People are staring," she protested weakly.

"Let them stare," he said, his fingers slipping into the hem of her dress, his touch sending a shiver up her spine. "They can look all they want and want you all they want, but they can never have you. You're mine."

The blunt possessiveness of his words sent a thrill through her, her pulse hammering against her skin. She could feel the heat of his body against hers, the tension between them almost palpable. She was torn between wanting to push him away, reminding them they were in public, and pulling him closer, letting his touch consume her completely.

He seemed to sense her internal conflict, his mouth curving into a small, knowing smile. His hand moved to her thigh, his fingers skimming the skin beneath the hem of her dress. "You're blushing," he said softly, his breath warm against her ear. "I can feel your pulse racing. I know how turned on you are right now."

His words sent a scorching heat through her, her body responding to him like a moth to a flame. It was maddening how he knew her so well, how he could make her feel this way with just a few words, a touch of his fingers. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "Elliot, we need to find our seats," she protested weakly, her body contradicting her words as she leaned into his touch.

He chuckled again, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. But he relented, pulling back slightly, though his hand still lingered on her hip. "You're right," he said, his voice still gruff with desire. "We should find our seats before I do something that will end up on the front page of some sleazy magazine.”

She let out a shaky exhale, thankful for the reprieve but also secretly disappointed their moment was over. Her body was tense, but she forced herself to nod, smoothing down her dress. She grabbed his hand, her fingers intertwining with his, the feel of his skin against hers grounding her.

He squeezed her hand, silently reassuring her, and then led her toward their table through the crowds of people. As they walked, Olivia noticed several eyes following them, some envious, some appreciative, but mostly just curious. She could feel their almost tangible gazes on her skin, which made her uneasy.

Elliot, seemingly unbothered by the stares, kept his hand firmly on her hip, his touch protecting and possessive. They reached their table, Elliot pulling out her chair and sitting beside her. The entire time, he kept his eyes on her, a silent claim, making it clear she was off-limits to everyone else in the room.

The dinner seemed to crawl by, each course drawn out, each conversation prolonged. Olivia tried to focus on the food, the people around them, and anything to distract her from the heat of Elliot's thigh, which pressed up against hers. Every now and then, he'd shift in his seat, his leg moving closer to hers, and she'd feel that familiar spark of desire ignite within her.

His hand would often find its way to her knee under the table, fingers tracing lazy patterns on her skin, his touch igniting a fire within her. The casual possessiveness of his touch, the almost imperceptible claims he was laying on her in front of all these people, were driving her insane.

As the servers started to clear the plates, Bernie, ever the social butterfly, turned her attention to Olivia. "Olivia, my dear, I meant to ask you..."

"Since this is a charity auction for Domestic Violence and Sexual Assault survivors, would you mind speaking before the auction?" Bernie asked, her tone casual but her eyes keenly observing Olivia's reaction.

Olivia felt a knot form in her stomach as Bernie's request sunk in. Speaking in front of a room full of self-important wealthy people was not her idea of fun. But with Elliot's encouraging nod, she swallowed her nerves. "Of course," she said with a polite smile. "I'd be honored to speak."

Bernie's face lit up, her eyes shining with satisfaction. "Excellent," she beamed. "Just a few words about your work and how their donations will help the victims. Nothing too heavy."

Olivia nodded, doing her best to maintain her composure, but inside, she was nervous. Public speaking had never been her strong suit, especially in front of an audience as intimidating as this. Elliot's hand found hers under the table, his fingers intertwining with hers, grounding her.

The rest of the meal passed by in a blur, Olivia's mind too occupied with her upcoming speech to pay much attention to the conversation around her. As coffee and dessert were served, a man in a black suit approached their table, leaning down to murmur something in Bernie's ear.

Bernie's eyes widened, and she nodded in response to the man's words. She turned back to Elliot and Olivia, a small smile on her face. "Olivia, dear, they're ready for you now."

Olivia felt her stomach flutter with nerves, and her throat suddenly dry. She put her napkin down and stood, smoothing down her dress. Elliot stood with her, his eyes locking with hers, an unspoken message passing between them.

"You'll do great," he murmured, his voice a low rumble meant only for her. His hand brushed her waist, a subtle gesture of support and reassurance.

She gave him a tight smile, trying to steady her breathing. She could do this. She had faced down dangerous perps, gone toe-to-toe with defense attorneys, and dealt with uncooperative victims. A room full of stuck-up rich people was nothing in comparison.

She took a deep breath and followed the man in the suit, Elliot's eyes on her every step of the way. As she reached the stage at the front of the room, she could feel all eyes on her, their expectant gazes like a physical weight. She looked out into the crowd, and for a moment, her courage faltered.

But then she saw Elliot, his eyes locked on hers. She saw the belief in his gaze and the reassurance he silently offered. She took another deep breath and stepped up to the podium.

The room fell silent as she adjusted the microphone, her breathing suddenly loud in her ears. She looked at the sea of faces staring back at her, some familiar, others completely foreign. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, feeling her heart pounding against her chest.

"Good evening," she began, her voice surprisingly calm and steady. "Thank you all for being here tonight. As you know, this charity auction is to raise funds for victims of domestic violence and sexual assault."

"As a detective in the Special Victims Unit, I've seen firsthand the impact of these crimes on women, men, and children," she continued. "The trauma, the pain, the feeling of helplessness that these victims carry with them long after the attack..."

Her voice had taken on a more serious tone now, the memory of all the victims she had met and the stories they had shared fueling her words. "The money raised tonight will go towards providing therapy, support, and legal aid to these victims, helping them regain some control and begin their journey towards healing."

She paused, scanning the room, taking in the faces of the wealthy patrons who were now completely silent and listening to her every word. A few heads nodded in understanding, a few eyes filled with empathy, and it gave her the strength to continue.

"But it's not just about the money," she said, her voice firmer now. "It's about standing up and saying 'enough is enough'. It's about breaking down the stigma associated with reporting these crimes, about ending the cycle of abuse that often goes unreported."

The crowd was now hanging on her every word, the room completely silent except for her voice. She could see Bernie sitting at the table, listening intently, a proud smile on her face. And she could feel Elliot's gaze on her, his unwavering support an anchor in a sea of strangers.

"To the survivors listening tonight," she said, her voice thick with emotion, "I want you to know that you are not alone. “People are fighting for you to ensure you have the support and justice you deserve. You have a voice, and we will listen."

She looked out again at the audience, feeling a wave of emotion wash over her. At that moment, she felt more connected to her work than ever. It wasn't just about catching perps and putting them behind bars; it was about standing up for the victims and giving them a chance to reclaim their lives.

"Thank you," she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. The room erupted into applause, and the guests were clearly moved by her words. She stood there momentarily, basking in the applause, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction swelling within her.

As the applause died, she saw Elliot walking through the crowd, heading straight for her. His face was a mixture of pride and desire, his steps determined, and she knew exactly what he was thinking.

He reached her, his hand wrapping around her waist, drawing her close. His eyes were dark, his breathing ragged, and she could feel the need radiating off him in waves.

"You were amazing," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. His hand tugged on her hip, pulling her flush against him, his body hard against hers.

"Thank you," she breathed, her voice shaky. The applause still echoed in her ears, the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, his possessive touch stoking the fire within her.

"I couldn't take my eyes off you," he confessed, his lips tracing a path down her neck, his touch igniting every nerve ending in her body. "Watching you up there, so confident, so passionate...You have no idea what you do to me."

"I might have a hint," she whispered, arching into him, her body molding to his. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers digging into his suit jacket. His touch made her head spin, her every rational thought fading away, replaced by a primal need for him.

He let out a low groan, his hand sliding down her hip, pulling her impossibly closer. The room around them faded into the background, her focus solely on him and the heat his touch provoked within her. "I need to use the bathroom," she murmured against his lips, impatient to be alone with him.

His grip on her tightened, clearly not wanting to let her go, but he nodded against her lips. "Hurry," he commanded, his voice a fierce whisper. She disentangled herself from him, feeling the absence of his touch like a cold draft. She gave him a slight nod, her eyes promising she'd return as quickly as possible, before walking towards the restrooms.

As she entered the bathroom, she took a moment to compose herself. She could hear the faint thudding of her heartbeat echoing in her ears, her breathing still ragged from the intensity of Elliot's touch. Her reflection in the mirror showed flushed cheeks and dilated pupils, a clear sign of her arousal and the effect Elliot had on her.

She turned on the cold water in the sink, splashing her face with the chilly liquid, hoping to cool her heated skin. However, the cold water did little to quench the fire within her, the anticipation and desire coiling low in her belly in a demanding throb.

After using the bathroom, she stood for a moment, contemplating her reflection. Her hair was a little mussed from where Elliot's fingers had raked through it, and her lips were fuller from his kisses. At that moment, she looked like a wanted, desired, and taken woman.

As Olivia stepped out of the stall and washed her hands, she heard the sound of the restroom door opening and closing. Turning, she came face-to-face with the last person she expected to see – Jo Marlowe.

"Jo," she said, her voice cool and collected, though her heart beat a little faster in her chest. She turned off the tap and met Jo's gaze, her eyes flickering over the other woman's face. Despite Jo's beautiful looks, Olivia didn't feel intimidated by her.

"Olivia," Jo returned, her voice smooth and composed. There was a hint of a smile on her lips as if she found this unexpected encounter amusing. As she walked towards one of the sinks, her movements were graceful, and her red dress accentuated her figure.

"I must say, you are quite impressive for an NYPD detective," Jo commented, her voice a purr. She began washing her hands, her gaze never leaving Olivia's reflection in the mirror.

Olivia's expression remained passive, her features schooled into a neutral mask. She didn't know what game Jo was playing, but she wasn't about to let the other woman get under her skin. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she asked dryly.

"It's an observation," Jo corrected, her tone almost condescending. She turned off the tap and reached for a paper towel, her fingers lingering on the dispenser. "You're quite attractive as well. But I can’t quite wrap my head around what attracts Elliot to you."

Olivia bristled at the thinly veiled insult, her jaw clenching. She forced herself to maintain her composure, though, refusing to let Jo get a reaction out of her. "Why are you here, Jo?" she asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.

Jo chuckled, folding the paper towel neatly as she turned to face Olivia fully. "I’m a family friend," she said, her tone dripping with insincerity. "Plus, I'm here to see Elliot, of course."

Olivia could feel her annoyance rising, her skin prickling at Jo's audacity. "And I suppose you think he wants to see you?" she said sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jo let out a tinkling laugh, her eyes gleaming with a cruel amusem*nt. "Oh, I know he does," she purred, her voice taking on a sultry tone. "You may not believe it, Olivia, but men like Elliot don’t change.“

Olivia could feel the annoyance boiling within her, her hands clenching into fists. "You don't know Elliot as well as you think you do," she shot back, her voice firm. "And you certainly have no clue who he is now."

Jo laughed again, shaking her head as if amused by Olivia's naivety. "You're wasting your time, Olivia," she sneered. "Elliot will get tired of playing house with you, and when he does, he'll come crawling back to me. Mark my words.”

Olivia’s patience was wearing thin, and her irritation at Jo’s sheer arrogance and audacity reached a boiling point. "Maybe you're right, Jo," she said, her voice dropping an octave lower, her words laced with a hint of menace. "But you’re forgetting one small detail."

Jo co*cked an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Oh yes? And what's that?" she asked, her tone laced with mockery.

Olivia stepped closer to Jo, her eyes burning cold and hard. "He doesn’t love you, Jo. Not anymore."

Jo's smirk faltered for a moment, her eyes narrowing. But she quickly recovered, her lip curling into a sneer. "Ahh, but he did,” she practically purred, her voice dripping with malicious satisfaction. “He was addicted to me, Olivia. Addicted to my taste, my touch, my very presence."

Olivia's fingers curled into tight fists, the mere thought of Jo’s words making her blood boil. "He was a child. You groomed him," she shot back, her voice a low, dangerous whisper.

For a brief moment, Jo’s mask slipped, a flicker of anger and defensiveness in her eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, her smirk returning in full force. "Oh, he was well and truly a man when we were together,” she said, her tone mocking. “And he loved every second of it.”

Olivia's hands itched to slap that smug expression off Jo's face, her entire body tense with anger and jealousy. But she fought the urge, knowing that reacting would give Jo precisely what she wanted. "Maybe he did once," she said finally, her voice even and controlled. "But not anymore. And it kills you, doesn’t it?”

Jo's eyes flashed with a brief, unguarded moment of vulnerability, her smirk faltering again. But she quickly regained her composure, her voice dropping to a cold, calculated tone. “Oh, Olivia. You honestly believe that, don’t you? That he truly loves you?” She laughed, the sound sharp and unamused. “Elliot loves power and control, and he craves dominance. And you… Well, you're many things, but submissive isn't one of them."

Olivia bristled at the implication, her defenses going up. She knew deep down that Jo’s words were not entirely true—she had submissive tendencies and desires that she had only begun to understand and explore with Elliot. But she wasn’t about to admit that to Jo. “You have no idea what Elliot and I share,” she said coolly, refusing to yield.

Jo let out a dry laugh, shaking her head at Olivia's stubbornness. "But I do,” she said, her voice dripping with mockery. “I know Elliot far better than you ever will. I knew exactly how to make him beg, how to make him cry out my name. Can you say the same?”

Olivia’s anger flared at Jo’s words, the image she painted of her and Elliot sending a pang of jealousy through her. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she bit out, her voice cold. “You might have had power over the young, inexperienced Elliot. But that’s not who he is now. Not with me.”

Jo's eyes narrowed, her smile taking on a cruel twist. "You’re fooling yourself, Olivia. You’re fooling yourself into believing that Elliot has changed and can be the man you want him to be. But you know deep down, he’ll always need that control, that sense of power over his partner. And darling,” she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a mocking whisper, “you will never fully submit to him. Never.”

Olivia scoffed, “Stay the f*ck away from Elliot.” She left the bathroom before Jo could respond, her heart racing and her mind swirling with anger and jealousy. She couldn’t shake the feeling of inadequacy that Jo’s words had stirred within her, the thought of being unable to satisfy Elliot’s needs eating at her. Walking back towards the main event, she ran a hand through her hair, trying to compose herself before facing Elliot.

She took a deep breath as she saw Elliot standing in a group of people, talking and laughing. He looked at ease and relaxed, his eyes scanning the room. As if sensing her presence, he looked up and met her gaze, his expression immediately changing as he saw her. He excused himself from the group and walked towards her, concern etched on his face.

"Hey,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring as he reached her. “Are you okay?" He must have noticed she was upset; the tension in her shoulders and the stiffness in her expression gave her away.

She attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice slightly strained. She couldn’t meet his gaze, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Jo.

He didn’t look convinced, his hand reaching out to touch her arm. “Baby, you’re not a good liar. I know you’re not fine,” he said gently, his tone not scolding but coaxing. “What happened?”

She sighed, her shoulders slumping as she relented. She knew she couldn’t keep it from him, especially not after lying about being okay. “I ran into Jo in the bathroom,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

The mention of Jo’s name made Elliot’s features darken, his jaw clenching. “What did she say?” he asked, his tone gruff. His hand tightened on her arm, a protective gesture.

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, the memory of Jo’s words still fresh in her mind. “She said you’ll get bored of me and come crawling back to her.” She hated speaking the words out loud, and the mere thought of it made her insides twist.

Elliot’s expression hardened even more, his eyes narrowing with anger and disbelief. “She actually said that?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. He stepped closer to her, his hand moving from her arm to her hip as if anchoring her to him.

She nodded, unable to hold his gaze any longer. “She also reminded me that you were addicted to her once, that you couldn’t get enough of her,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

He let out a sharp exhale, his grip on her hip tightening. “I was a kid who didn’t know any better,” he said firmly. “I was young and naive, and she knew exactly how to manipulate me.” His hand moved to her chin, gently tilting her face up so she could meet his eyes. “Olivia, look at me.”

She lifted her eyes to meet his, her heart thudding in her chest. The intensity of his gaze was almost overwhelming as if he was trying to make her understand something she couldn't quite grasp.

"You are not her," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're better than her in every way. I would never, ever cheat on you or go back to her. I don't want her, baby. I want you." He moved closer to her, his body almost flush against hers. "I love you, Olivia. Only you."

His words, spoken with such conviction, washed over her like a soothing balm. She wanted so badly to believe them, to banish the doubts and insecurities Jo had stirred within her. But a small part of her, the vulnerable, uncertain part, still whispered that Jo was right, that she couldn't provide him with everything he needed.

He saw the doubt in her eyes, the hesitation. He recognized the fear of not being enough and unable to truly satisfy his needs. But he refused to let it linger. He cupped her face, forcing her to maintain eye contact.

“Olivia, you give me everything I need," he said emphatically. "Your strength, your resilience, your compassion, your passion… You challenge me. You make me better." His thumbs traced gentle patterns on her cheeks. "I don’t need some manipulative, ruthless, cold-hearted bitch like Jo. I need you."

The raw honesty in his words, coupled with the determination in his eyes, was almost her undoing. She wanted so badly to believe him, to cast aside the doubts, but the fear that she wasn’t enough still lingered. But his touch, intense gaze, and firm words slowly chipped away at her insecurities. “Promise me you won’t leave,” she whispered, the words sounding more like a plea than a demand.

He let out a huff of disbelief, his hands dropping from her face to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him. “I swear, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he said fervently. He tugged her flush against his body, his arms tightening around her, almost as if he was desperate to prove it. “I’m yours,” he said hoarsely. “All yours, Olivia. Always.”

Her heart leaped in her chest at his words. The possessiveness in his tone, the desperation in his grip on her, spoke louder than any words could. It sent a flutter of excitement through her, even as the insecurity still nagged at the back of her mind.

He held her tightly, his body pressed against hers. He felt her uncertainty and vulnerability, and it drove him crazy. He wanted to erase any doubt from her mind, any lingering insecurity Jo may have planted. He knew how to do it and prove to her that she was everything he wanted and needed. He bent his head slightly, his mouth close to her ear. “Come with me,” he murmured.

She shivered at his command, the low rasp in his voice sending a thrill through her. She looked up at him, her eyes inquiring. “Where are we going?” she asked, her voice betraying her curiosity and excitement.

His lips curled into a smirk, and his eyes had a hint of mischief. “You’ll see,” he said, his tone cryptic. He laced his fingers through hers and began leading her away from the main room through a maze of corridors until they finally reached a secluded hallway.

As they walked, she looked around, wondering where he was taking her. The hallway was dimly lit and silent, save for the faint sound of music drifting from the main room. She was about to ask again when he suddenly pushed her against the wall.

The impact of his body against hers was sharp and thrilling. His hands came up to grip her wrists, pinning them above her head against the wall. She gasped in surprise, her body immediately reacting to his touch. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear.

“Olivia,” he murmured, his voice a deep, dark rumble. “I’m yours, baby. Every inch of me belongs to you.” His mouth traced fiery kisses down her neck, his hips pressing her into the wall, his body trapping her completely.

His words, his touch, and his entire being were overwhelming. Her body responded instinctively, her back arching towards him, her breath coming in short, erratic gasps. “Elliot,” she whimpered, her voice quivering. “God, I need you…”

His lips curled into a knowing smile against her skin. “I know what you need, baby,” he murmured. He released her wrists, his hands roaming over her body, feeling her curves through the silky material of her dress. “I’m going to give you everything you need,” he promised, his hands trailing lower, finding the slit of her dress and inching it up.

His touch lit a fire within her. Every inch of her skin he touched felt like it was on fire. Her senses heightened, and her breath came in short, frantic bursts. She lifted her hands to hold onto him, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Please, Elliot," she breathed, arching her back to grind herself against him.

His response was immediate and primal. He let out a deep growl, his body pressing more firmly against hers, making it clear that he wanted nothing more than to take her right there in the hallway.

Her body quivered with anticipation, a raw, needy moan escaping her lips. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with desire. She could feel his hardness against her, his body betraying his own need. "Elliot," she gasped, her voice desperate now. "Please, I need you now."

The pleading in her voice pushed him over the edge. With a swift, fluid motion, he lifted her, pinning her against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist. His mouth found hers, claiming her in a searing kiss that was as possessive as it was urgent.

The kiss was like gasoline to the fire already burning through her veins. She kissed him back with as much hunger as her fingers ran through his hair, her body arching against his. The world around them faded away. The sounds of the party and the feel of the wall against her back were nothing compared to the heat of his body against hers. Her hips rolled against him, seeking more, demanding more.

He gave a deep groan, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements. His mouth left hers to trail kisses down her neck, his teeth nipping at her collarbone. He shifted his stance, his body pressing her further against the wall, the hardness of his arousal pressing against the heat between her thighs.

The sensations were overwhelming. Her breaths came in short, harsh gasps, her head falling back against the wall. The heat of his mouth on her skin, the feel of his body against hers, the evidence of his desire against her core - it was too much, yet not enough. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, her nails biting into his skin, as she gave another desperate plea. "Elliot," she gasped, her voice almost a whimper. "Please, I can't take it anymore."

He had no intention of teasing her or drawing this out. He was too far gone, and his own need was too strong to resist. With a low, primal growl, he shifted his body again, his hand moving between them, undoing his pants to remove his throbbing co*ck.

When he pushed inside her, it was as if the world stopped for a moment. The feeling of him stretching her, filling her, was both intense and intimate, a raw, primal connection that went beyond pleasure. She cried out, her body shuddering against him as she clung to him, her mind going blank.

His pace was relentless, his hips driving into hers, each thrust hard and deep. He buried his face in her neck, grunting and groaning against her skin as he drove them both towards the edge. His hands were everywhere, his body surrounding hers, his movements desperate and possessive.

Through the haze of pleasure, she became aware of a pair of eyes on them. For a brief moment, her mind couldn't register who it was, her body too overwhelmed by Elliot's touch. But then the realization hit her, and her eyes met Jo's.

Jo was standing a few feet away, her expression a mixture of shock and anger. Her eyes darted from Elliot to Olivia, taking in the scene before her. Olivia could see the clenching of her jaw and the narrowing of her eyes, clearly unhappy with what she saw.

It should have been a moment of intense embarrassment, of self-consciousness at being caught in the act. But as Jo's face contorted in anger, Olivia felt a defiant wave of satisfaction wash over her. She held Jo's gaze, her hands still gripping Elliot's shoulders, her body moving against his defiantly.

Elliot didn't notice the exchange, and his attention was solely focused on her. He was utterly lost in the moment, his body moving perfectly with hers. His hands gripped her hips tightly, his pace growing more intense as he teetered closer to the edge of release.

She could feel him getting close, his body growing taut against hers, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. She knew it wouldn't be long now for either of them. Her eyes flicked back to Jo, who hadn't moved from her spot, her gaze boring into them.

Their eyes locked, and an idea flared in the heat of the moment. Jo wanted to see something. Then Olivia would make sure she got a damn good view. She did not attempt to disguise the pleasure etched across her features, her moans growing louder, her body writhing against Elliot's.

She turned her focus back to Elliot, her voice a sultry, pleading whisper in his ear. "Elliot," she panted, her body quivering. "Say my name.”

Elliot's response was immediate and unequivocal. "Olivia," he growled, his mouth finding her neck, teeth nipping at her skin. "God, Olivia." His hands found her hips again, his pace quickening, his body driving into hers with more force.

Her body responded instinctively, her legs wrapping tighter around him, drawing him even closer. "Again," she demanded, her body trembling, her climax building inside her like a tidal wave. "Say my name again."

He buried his face in her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below her ear. "Olivia," he repeated, his voice a raw, guttural sound. "God, Olivia. I’m yours. All yours."

As the pleasure peaked, she arched against him, her body clenching and shuddering around him. She cried out, her voice echoing down the empty hallway, and she made sure each gasp, each moan was loud enough for Jo to hear. She didn't look away, her gaze locked with Jo's, even as the world seemed to explode around her. “Mine.”

The climax was fierce and intense, sweeping through her body like a wave. She clung to him, her body trembling, her breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. She could vaguely hear him moaning her name in her ear, his body shuddering against hers.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, she allowed herself a brief moment to relish the feeling of him still inside her, the heat of his body against hers. She let her head fall back against the wall, her eyes closing, her body still thrumming with aftershocks.

She opened her eyes, half expecting to see Jo still standing there, her face a mask of anger or hurt. But the corridor was empty, and only the faint sounds of music and conversation from the main room reached them.

She released a shaky breath, her body starting to unwind from its taut stance. Elliot's head was still buried in her neck, his body pinning hers against the wall. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving against hers, his body still trembling slightly.

She ran her fingers through his hair, her touch now gentler and softer than before. They stayed like that for a moment, the hallway around them silent save for the sounds of their breathing. Slowly, carefully, he began to disentangle himself from her, their bodies reluctantly separating.

As he stepped back, she could see the flush on his cheeks and the satisfied, slightly disheveled look about him. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back, his eyes meeting hers. They had a raw, primal look, a possession that made her insides flip-flop. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough.

She nodded, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "More than okay," she replied, her voice slightly hoarse. She adjusted her dress, smoothing down the fabric that had ridden up during their....activity. Her heart was still pounding, her skin tingling with the aftermath of what had just happened.

He watched her, his eyes roaming over her, taking in her disheveled state, flushed cheeks, and slightly mussed hair. There was a pleased, primal sort of satisfaction in his gaze, and his fingers itched to reach out and pull her back to him.

She met his gaze, her smile growing as she noticed the hunger in his eyes. She could see the effort it was taking him to hold back, to maintain some semblance of control. At that moment, she reveled in her power over him, the knowledge that she could make such a stoic man come undone like this.

“You really are goddamn gorgeous, you know that?” He stepped forward, his hand brushing a strand of hair off her face. His touch was gentle, a stark contrast to the hunger of their earlier actions.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing briefly as his fingers grazed her cheek. She relished in the heat of his gaze, the raw, possessive desire in it. “Only for you,” she teased, opening her eyes to meet his again.

His smile was wolfish, and his eyes darkened. "Oh, believe me, baby. I know that."

His hand moved to the small of her back, trailing down to give her ass a sharp smack. "Only for me. And don’t you forget it."

She gave a soft gasp, her body reacting to the sting of his hand on her skin. She couldn't help the shiver that ran through her, the way her heart skipped a beat.

"Never," she breathed, her voice a sultry whisper. "I'll never forget it."

He pulled her closer, his hand on her lower back, drawing her flush against him. His other hand tangled in her hair, gently tilting her head back to expose her throat. He bent forward, his lips against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.

"Mmm, good," he growled, his fingers digging into her hip. "Because I'm never letting you go."

His words sent another shiver down her spine, her belly clenching at the possessive edge of his voice. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body molding against his. She could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of her dress, the evidence of his desire for her pressed against her thigh.

His lips were on her ear now, nipping and kissing their way down her neck, each touch igniting a new trail of fire beneath her skin. His hands roamed possessively over her body, his fingers tracing patterns along her sides, her hips, and her back.

"We need to go," he murmured, his voice low and rough. "Now.”

She nodded, her mind clouded with desire. Every touch from him sent a new wave of heat through her, igniting a fire that only he seemed capable of starting. She wanted nothing more than to stay here, to let him f*ck her again in the dark corner of the hallway. But rationality began to creep back in, reminding her of their location.

"Car. Now," she agreed, her voice a breathless gasp.

With a firm arm around her waist, he guided her out of the hallway and back into the main room. The party was still in full swing, guests mingling and laughing, all but one oblivious to the passion that had just played out a few yards away.

They cut a path through the crowd, Elliot's grip on her never wavering. He navigated them to the entrance, his steps purposeful and quick.

As they stepped outside, the cool night air contrasted with the heated environment they had just left. The evening was clear, and the stars were visible in the night sky above them.

Taylor was waiting for them with the SUV idling by the curb. He opened the back door, and Elliot ushered her inside, his gaze never leaving hers.

Once the door shut behind them, the car’s interior suddenly felt intimate. The outside world shut out as the engine hummed to life. Elliot didn’t waste a second, his body pressing hers against the back seat, his mouth finding hers.

The kiss was heated and desperate, reflecting the hunger that still hadn’t been quelled.

She met his kiss with equal enthusiasm, her hands running through his hair, pulling him even closer to her. Her body was on fire, the memory of their earlier encounter still fresh in her mind. She could feel his hands on her, exploring her body, caressing every curve and crevice.

He muttered something against her lips. His voice muffled, but the desire in his tone was unmistakable. She could feel his body's response, the hard length of him pressing against her thigh.

"Taylor, privacy glass and take the long way home." Elliot's voice was a low command. His breathing still labored from their kiss.

Taylor glanced at them in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Yes, sir.”

As the car pulled away from the curb, the privacy glass slowly rolling up, cutting them off from Taylor, Elliot's hands resumed their exploration. His mouth left hers, trailing kisses down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin.

Her breath hitched in her throat, her body arching against his involuntarily. His kisses were hot, his tongue teasing the sensitive spot just below her ear, sending sparks of desire shooting through her.

“God, El,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

He muttered something against her skin, the vibration of his voice adding a new layer of sensation. His hands had found the hem of her dress, slowly pushing up the fabric, baring more and more of her skin to his touch.

"Need to touch you," he muttered, his hands roaming higher, caressing her inner thighs.

She nodded, her body already aching for his touch. Everywhere his fingers grazed, it felt like it was on fire, her skin hypersensitive to his every touch. She tried to speak, tried to tell him how much she wanted him to, but all that came out was a guttural moan.

His mouth found hers again, his tongue delving inside as his hands continued their path up her thighs. They found the edge of her underwear, his fingers tracing the lace before dipping underneath.

She gasped against his mouth, her body shuddering under his touch. Her legs seemed to spread wider, her body silently begging him to go further.

He seemed to understand her silent plea, his fingers dancing along her skin, caressing and teasing. His mouth left hers again, his lips tracing a path down her collarbone and chest.

She was panting now, her body a coil of tight, winding need. Every touch made her arch against him, made her crave more of his touch.

His fingers slipped inside her, his touch both gentle and assertive. She cried out, her body bucking against his hand. He groaned against her skin. His body pressed against hers, the evidence of his own need prominent against her hip.

"So damn tight," he murmured, his breath hot on her ear.

She was lost in a sea of sensation, her mind clouded with pleasure. His fingers moved within her, each press and stroke pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She moaned against him, her fingers clutching at any part of him she could reach.

"El, please," she gasped, her body trembling with need.

He could sense that she was close, her body quivering beneath him. His fingers curled inside her, his pace increasing, the pressure building. His mouth found her ear again, his voice a rough whisper.

"Come for me, baby. Let go."

His words sent a jolt of pure pleasure through her, and her body obeyed instinctively. She cried out, her back arching as the climax washed over her, wave after wave of pleasure. Her body was taut, her fingers gripping his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin.

He held her as she climaxed, his fingers continuing to move, prolonging her release. He could feel her c*nt clenching around his fingers, her breath coming in gasps against his ear.

He continued his caresses, guiding her through the aftershocks, his voice a gentle murmur. "That's it, baby. Just let go. I've got you."

She slowly started to come back to herself, her body still trembling with little aftershocks. His fingers withdrew, leaving her feeling empty and yet somehow still unsatisfied. Her breathing started to return to normal as she climbed onto his lap. She suddenly realized how loud her moans had been.

"Oh god," she breathed, a flush of embarrassment washing over her. She looked up at him, her cheeks still flushed with pleasure. "Did Taylor...hear us?"

Elliot chuckled, his hand running soothingly down her back. "Don't worry, baby. The privacy glass is soundproof. No one heard a thing."

Relief washed over her, her body relaxing against him. She settled more comfortably in his lap, her head resting against his shoulder. She was quiet for a moment, letting her heart rate return to normal, the sound of the engine lulling her into a state of contentment.

Her mind was still a bit fuzzy, her body still thrumming with aftershocks. She snuggled against him, inhaling the scent of his cologne and the musk that was distinctly his.

"El?" she mumbled, her eyes fluttering closed.

His hand traced lazy circles on her thigh, his touch gentle and soothing. "Yeah, baby?"

"I still need you," she whispered, her voice soft but full of need. She looked up at him, her gaze meeting his. "I need to f*ck you.”

His expression darkened, a primal sort of possessiveness flaring in his eyes. His grip on her thigh tightened as his breath hitched in his throat.

"How badly do you need me, Liv?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave lower.

Her body responded to his tone, her desire flaring back to life. She pushed herself up from his chest, straddling him now across the seat. Her hands found his shoulders, her fingers caressing the muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. She leaned in, her mouth against his ear.

"So badly it hurts," she breathed her words, confessing her need.

His hands were on her hips now, his fingers digging into her skin. She could feel his body's response to her words, his muscles tensing beneath her touch.

"Then take what you need," he growled, his voice thick with desire.

She kissed his neck, her lips finding the sensitive spot beneath his ear. Her hands began to undo the zipper of his pants, her need for him pushing aside any thoughts of patience.

He groaned as her lips found his skin, his body arching into hers. His hands helped her with his pants, his own need just as urgent as hers.

Once his pants were open, he lifted her easily, settling her down onto him. She gasped as he filled her, her body stretching to accommodate him. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her mouth falling open in a silent moan.

"El," she breathed, her voice a whisper, "Oh god, El."

He didn't reply, his eyes closing as he fought for control. He was deep inside her, her body surrounding him like a tight, hot vice. His hands were on her hips, his fingers digging into her skin, anchoring her to him.

She was moving now, slowly at first, her hips rolling against his. Her body was on fire again, the need for him overwhelming everything else.

She increased the pace, her body moving to a rhythm only it knew. She was lost in the sensation, her mind blissfully empty of anything except the feel of him inside her, the feel of his hands on her body, the sound of his shaky breaths against her skin.

"You feel fill me so good," she whispered, her lips finding his ear.

He groaned, his body responding to her words and her movements. He could feel her around him, each roll of her hips pushing him closer to the edge. His hands tightened on her hips, his fingers likely leaving marks on her skin.

"You're so damn tight," he gritted out, his voice husky.

She nodded, her body shuddering at his words. Her movements grew frantic, her body chasing her release, the pressure building to a near-painful level.

"I'm close," she gasped, her hands clenching into fists on his shoulders. "So close, El."

He could feel her body tightening around him, her body preparing for release. He held on for as long as he could, but her body was too much, too tight, too good.

"Come for me, Liv," he groaned, his own body barely holding on. "Come for me now."

Her body obeyed his command, detonating with an intensity that left her breathless. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, her nails digging into his skin. Waves of pleasure rolled through her, each one more intense than the last.

"Elliot," she gasped, her body shuddering in his arms.

Her climax triggered his own, and he came with a guttural groan, his body shuddering violently against hers. His hands gripped her hips tightly, his body riding out the waves of pleasure.

For a few moments, they remained still, their bodies quaking, their minds blissfully blank.

As they slowly returned to themselves, Olivia remained on Elliot's lap, their bodies still connected. Her head rested on his shoulder, her breath coming in soft gasps. His arms were wrapped around her, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her back.

"God, Liv," he finally spoke, his voice rough. "Every time we're together, it's like the first time. It's always this intense, this powerful."

She smiled against his chest, her body still humming in the aftermath of their passion. "I know what you mean," she murmured, her voice sounding foreign. "It's like we're on fire, like we can't get enough of each other."

He chuckled, his hands continuing their slow, soothing movements. "And yet, afterward, I'm already thinking about the next time."

She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. "Me too," she whispered. "It's like the desire never really goes away. It's always there, simmering under the surface, ready to flare up again at the slightest touch."

He looked at her, his eyes dark and intense. "We're addicted to each other, Liv," he said, his voice firm. "It's like a drug, and we're completely helpless against it."

She didn't deny it. She knew he was right. "I suppose there are worse vices to have," she said, her eyes dancing with a hint of mischief. She leaned in, her lips hovering just above his. "And I have no plans to give this one up anytime soon."

He smiled, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek. "Neither do I," he said, his voice full of promise. He kissed her gently as she moved off his lap.

Once she settled beside him, he put his arm around her, pulling her close. She snuggled against him, her head resting on his shoulder again.

"El," she murmured, her worry consuming her. “I need to tell you something.”

His body tensed, sensing the seriousness in her voice. "What is it, baby?" he asked, his worry beginning to take hold.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "Jo saw us in the hallway," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "She watched us."

Elliot tensed further, his body going rigid. "What?" he asked, his voice tight. "How long was she there?"

Olivia tried to remember the exact moment Jo appeared down the hall, but her memory was fuzzy. She had been too consumed by Elliot to notice anything around them. "I'm not sure," she admitted. "A few minutes, I think. Maybe more."

Olivia was surprised by Elliot's calm reaction. She looked up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. "You don't seem very upset," she said, her voice cautious.

He looked down at her, his expression neutral. "I'm not," he replied, his hand still rubbing soothing circles on her back. "It serves her right for the sh*t she said to you.”

Despite her worry and the seriousness of the situation, Olivia found herself laughing. Elliot's nonchalance was unexpected, but she couldn't deny the small surge of satisfaction she felt knowing Jo had seen them together.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Elliot asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Olivia couldn't deny it. The image of Jo's shocked and furious face was quite satisfying. "Maybe a little," she admitted with a sly grin.

Elliot chuckled, his hand moving up to play with her hair. "I can't say I blame you," he said, his voice full of mirth. "Seeing the look on her face must have been quite satisfying."

Olivia leaned into his touch, enjoying the feel of his fingers in her hair. "It was," she agreed, her voice laced with a hint of smugness. "You’re mine. She needed to be reminded of that.“

His grip tightened slightly as he pulled her closer, his voice low and possessive. "Yes, I am," he agreed, his tone unyielding. "And don't you forget it, Liv."

She shivered at his possessive tone, the sound of it sending a thrill through her. "I won't," she promised, her voice soft. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, the bond between them palpable.

"Good," he said, his hand resting on her thigh. He leaned back into the couch, bringing her with him. "Because I plan on reminding you often," he added, his voice thick with promises.

She snuggled against him, her body molding to his. "Is that a promise?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

His hand moved up her thigh, his fingers tracing patterns against the fabric of her dress. "Absolutely," he murmured, his voice a rumble in his chest. "Every day, baby. I'll remind you every single day."

Chapter 10: Obedience

Chapter Text

As the day drew to a close, Olivia gathered her belongings and headed to her apartment. She had gradually begun moving her things into the penthouse two weeks ago. The streets outside her apartment were quiet, and the city began its evening transition into nightlife.

As Olivia entered her apartment, a sense of unease settled in the pit of her stomach. Something felt off, but she couldn't quite grasp what it was. It wasn't until she walked into the living room that she discovered the source. A gun in hand, Dani stood in her dimly lit living room.

Olivia immediately pulled her weapon. "Dani?" she managed to say, her voice filled with concern. "What are you doing here?"

Dani stood motionless, the gun trembling in her hands but still aimed at Olivia. Her eyes were wild, darting around the room. "Master lets you sleep in his bed," she managed to say, her voice barely audible.

Olivia's eyes widened at the mention. "What...?" she said, her heart starting to race. The mention of "Master" and Elliot's bed sent alarm bells ringing in her head.

Dani's eyes locked on Olivia's, and she looked intensely jealous and obsessed. "He lets you sleep in his bed," she repeated, her voice a mixture of anger and resignation. “He never let me sleep in his bed."

Olivia's mind raced as she tried to make sense of the situation. She tried to maintain her composure and calm demeanor.

"Dani," Olivia said in a measured voice. “You need to put the gun down. We can talk about this, but we need to remain calm." Despite the fear coursing through her veins, Olivia tried to project an air of authority, hoping it would help her maintain control of the situation.

Dani's grip on the gun tightened, her eyes narrowing as she stared at Olivia. "Call him. I need to see him.”

Olivia's heart raced, her mind spinning over what to do. She could feel the tension in the air, the danger between them. "Dani, please," she pleaded, her voice steady but firm. "Put the gun down, and we can talk, okay?"

Olivia flinched as the sound of the gunshot echoed through the room. Her heart raced, the reality of the danger she was in now hitting her full force. She kept her eyes fixed on Dani, trying to keep her voice steady despite the fear. "Okay. Okay, I will call him.”

She cautiously took her phone, her movements slow and deliberate. Her fingers dialed Elliot's number, her eyes and gun still trained on Dani, watching for any sudden movements or signs of escalation.

Elliot answered his phone on the second ring. "Liv? I’m on my way to pick you up now," he said, oblivious to the situation surrounding the phone call. The sound of his voice ignited a mix of emotions in her—fear and a profound sense of longing.

"Elliot," she managed to say, her voice quivering slightly. The relief she felt at hearing his voice was palpable, but she had to remain focused

“Liv, what’s wrong?” he demanded, able to detect the concern in her voice. He knew something was wrong, and his mind began to race with worst-case scenarios.

"Dani's here," she whispered, her gaze still fixed on Dani. "At my apartment. She's got a gun." Olivia's voice betrayed her fear, but she fought to remain composed. “She wants to see you.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and then Elliot's voice filled with tension and urgency: "I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Olivia glanced at Dani, who was still standing there, the gun still in her shaking hands. She watched Olivia closely, her jealousy and possessiveness evident in her every move. “Hang up,” Dani demanded.

Olivia swallowed hard. She was caught between the need to keep the line open to Elliot and the fear of Dani doing something drastic if she didn’t comply. She reluctantly hit the end call button.

The room was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the pounding of Olivia's heart in her ears. She kept her gun trained on Dani, her eyes locked on her. "Elliot's on his way," she informed her.

Dani's eyes flicked towards the front door, then back at Olivia. "Good," she said quietly, her grip on the gun tightening again. The tension in the room thickened, the silence hanging heavily between them like a coiled snake ready to strike.

Olivia's mind raced, and she tried to strategize to keep the situation under control. She needed to keep Dani talking and distract her until Elliot arrived. "Dani... you don't have to do this," she said, her voice steady and cautious.

"Shut up," Dani snapped, her jealousy boiling over. “You don't get to tell me what I have to do. You think you're so special to him, but you're not."

"I never said I was..." Olivia began, but Dani cut her off with a sharp glare. "You don't have to say it," she practically snarled. "I can see it every time he looks at you. You think you're better than me because he lets you sleep in his bed. You think you can change him?”

Olivia felt a pang of surprise mixed with sympathy. The depth of Dani's jealousy and possessiveness was beyond just her situation. It was obvious that deeper issues and painful memories were at play here. "That's not it, Dani," she said, her voice softer now. "It's not about me being better than you. Elliot... he's just different now."

"Different? Because of you!" Dani exclaimed, her voice cracking. "You changed him.“

The sudden crash of the front door bursting open shattered the already tense atmosphere. All eyes flicked towards the entrance as Elliot and Taylor stormed in, their expressions a mix of determination and worry.

Elliot's eyes quickly scanned the room, darting from Olivia to Dani, taking in the situation in a split second. He stepped between Olivia and Dani as he intensely gazed at the blonde.

Dani stood there, frozen in place, her eyes wide and unblinking. The sight of Elliot in the room caught her off guard despite her demanding his presence. Her grip on the gun loosened and trembled visibly.

Elliot moved forward confidently, focusing solely on Dani and her gun. He closed the distance between them, his eyes locked with hers. With a slow, calculated movement, he disarmed her, taking the weapon from her trembling hands and immediately placing it in his pocket.

The tension in the room shifted significantly as the gun was removed from the equation. Dani's defiance gave way to a hint of vulnerability, her eyes still fixed on Elliot. He commanded, “Kneel.”

Dani obeyed the command without protest. Her body responded instinctively to his voice, and she dropped to her knees.

Elliot fixed his gaze on her. His voice was filled with authority and dominance. "Olivia, go to the penthouse. Wait for me there," he ordered.

Olivia hesitated, unwilling to leave Elliot's side, especially with Dani still in the room. "Elliot—" she began, but he cut her off with a firm look. His voice had a commanding edge that brooked no argument. “For once, just do as you were told.”

Olivia hesitated momentarily, her instinct to stay and protect him almost overwhelming.

"Taylor," Elliot said, his attention now turning to his head of security, who stood in attendance. “Get her out of here," Taylor nodded, understanding the assignment. He stepped closer to Olivia, ushering her out of the apartment and down to the waiting SUV.

Olivia cast one last look at Elliot, her eyes filled with concern, confusion, and a hint of uncertainty. With Taylor guiding her, she reluctantly left the apartment, her heart heavy at what she had just witnessed.

Olivia paused momentarily outside the apartment building, torn between following Taylor’s guidance and needing to clear her head. The sight of Taylor holding open the car door stirred something in her—a hint of defiance and a need to just be alone. Olivia turned and began walking away from Taylor. He quickly shut the door, intent on following her, “Miss Benson.” She didn't stop. She only called back over her shoulder, “Don’t Taylor.” And so he didn't.

Olivia walked down the deserted street, her stride determined but her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. As it began to rain, she remembered the scene she had just left - Elliot's commanding demeanor, Dani's submission, and how things unfolded.

The rain felt refreshing against her flushed skin, helping to clear her chaotic thoughts, but the image of Dani kneeling at Elliot's feet kept replaying in her mind. The submissive look in the woman's eyes, the way she had responded to his command—it was all so disturbing.

As Olivia continued to walk, the rain picked up, her clothes sticking to her skin, but she barely noticed. She found herself at the park, a quiet, mostly empty place in the cold rain. She sat on the nearest bench, staring out into the rain as it fell, her thoughts continuing to churn.

Her relationship with Elliot was so different. She wasn't his submissive, and she never would be. The sight of him with Dani, though, made her realize he needed that. He needed someone who would follow his command and fulfill his every desire—and that someone was not her.

Olivia's mind was made up. After her revelatory moment in the park, she hailed a cab and instructed the driver to take her to Elliot's penthouse apartment.

On the drive over, she tried to focus her thoughts, to make sense of her feelings. The rain outside mirrored the turmoil within her, the dark sky and water-streaked windows blending into a sad tableau.

Finally, the taxi pulled up to the high-rise building where Elliot's penthouse apartment was situated. The doorman greeted her with a knowing nod and a smile as she stepped out, shielding her from the rain under the building’s overhang.

She entered the building, her footsteps echoing in the pristine lobby. The elevator ride up to the penthouse was quiet. In the mirrored walls of the elevator, she caught a glimpse of herself - her clothes damp from the rain, her hair slightly messy. The image seemed to reflect the turmoil inside her.

When the elevator doors finally opened, she stepped into the penthouse. The lights were dimmed, creating a calming ambient atmosphere. The city lights twinkled through the large windows, casting dancing shadows across the polished marble floors.

As Olivia stepped further into the penthouse, she spotted Elliot standing near the windows, his back to her, engrossed in a phone call. The low timbre of his voice filled the quiet room, the conversation carrying a note of authority.

She remained hidden in the shadows by the elevator door, watching him silently as he spoke into the phone. From this position, she could see the tension in his broad shoulders, the tightness around his eyes. The conversation seemed intense, and she wondered who was on the other end of the line.

As Olivia watched him, Elliot suddenly turned around, his eyes locked. The sight of her standing there, her clothes still slightly damp from the rain, caught him off guard. “Never mind. She just walked in.”

He ended his call and walked towards her, closing the distance between them in a few strides. “Where the hell have you been?” he asked, his voice a low rumble.

Olivia held his gaze, her expression calm despite the storm of emotions within her. "Took a walk," she told him simply. "I needed to clear my head.”

Elliot leaned against the window, his eyes never leaving hers. His expression was a mix of annoyance and something else—perhaps concern. “A walk?” he repeated, his voice taut. “In the rain? You were supposed to wait here.”

"I needed to get out," Olivia answered, her tone even. "I wasn't just going to sit here and wait around while you handled..." she trailed off, the memory of Dani's submission fresh in her mind.

Elliot frowned, the implication in her words not lost on him. He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching her face. “You're upset," he stated, his voice firm. It wasn't a question.

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat, her eyes never wavering from his. "Upset is an understatement,” she said quietly. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed the tumultuous emotions underneath.

“About Dani?” Elliot asked bluntly. He knew her better than almost anyone, and he could see the confusion and uncertainty in her eyes.

Olivia bristled at his nonchalance. "About Dani…," she echoed. "About Jo… About all of it. I saw how she was with you. How she obeyed your every command."

Elliot tensed, sensing the direction of her words. He knew that Olivia had witnessed Dani's submission and that it had been challenging to process. "Liv?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"She was on her knees, Elliot," Olivia almost snapped, her voice rising. "She kneeled for you. She obeyed you. She was completely submissive. I… could never be like that.”

There was a moment of tense silence, the rain pattering against the window the only sound. Elliot looked at her, his eyes dark and intense. "You think that's what I want? Is that what you think I need, Liv?” he asked. His voice was level, but there was an edge to it, a hint of suppressed frustration.

Olivia was taken aback by his response. She'd expected defensiveness or denial, but his calm demeanor was perplexing. Her voice was still laced with hurt when she spoke, "Isn't it? Isn't that what you need? A submissive."

Elliot's jaw clenched, the muscle ticking. He pushed off the window, taking a step towards her. "No, Olivia," he said firmly. His voice was softer now but no less powerful. "That is not what I need. I don't want a submissive. I want you."

Olivia felt tears prick the back of her eyes, her heart both warmed and torn by his words. "But… how?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How can that be enough for you? How can you want me when I can't give you… that?"

Elliot closed the distance between them, his hands cradling her face, forcing her to meet his gaze directly. His eyes were intense, burning into hers. "Because," he said, emphasizing each word, "I love you, all of you: your strength, your spirit, your fire. I don't need a submissive, I need you. Only you."

Olivia's lips trembled, the tears now slipping down her cheeks. Her breath caught in her throat, and she found herself lost in his gaze, his declaration of love echoing in her ears. Slowly, almost involuntarily, she raised her hand to cover his, her touch anchoring her to the moment, to him. "Elliot," she whispered, both a plea and a prayer. “That's who you are, and I… I’m not right for you.”

Elliot's expression hardened, his grip on her face tightening just a fraction. "Don't," he said, his voice rough. "Don't say that you're not right for me. You are the only one who is. Who could ever be this right for me. I‘ve changed. You’ve changed me.”

Olivia felt a shiver run through her at the intensity in his voice. She couldn't deny the truth in his words—she had changed him, and he had changed her, too. But she also knew that their relationship was different from what Elliot needed. She backed away from him, slipping from his grasp. "Being a dominant is ingrained in you, Elliot. It’s who you are. This… us… it was a mistake," she said quietly.

The pain in her voice lanced through him like a dagger, but Elliot clenched his jaw, refusing to allow her to push him away. He followed her, refusing to let her put distance between them. "Stop," he growled, grabbing her arm and turning her back to face him. "This is not a mistake, Olivia. Why won't you believe me? What do I have to do?"

Tears streamed down Olivia's cheeks, her heart aching. "It is a mistake," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "You need someone who can give you what you need. Someone who can give you power and control all the time. I can’t give you that. I can never give you that. I can’t be your submissive," she whispered.

Elliot's eyes widened, a look of desperation in them as he heard her words. He couldn't believe that she still didn't understand, that after everything, she was still standing here saying she wasn't enough. "Olivia," he said, his voice breaking, "please… please don't do this. Please don't leave me. Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

Olivia could only watch in shock as Elliot sank onto his knees in front of her. His broad shoulders hunched slightly, his head bowed, a sight so unexpected and unlike him that it took her breath away.

Olivia dropped to her knees in sync with Elliot, looking at him wide-eyed. Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to understand what was happening. It was a reversal of roles, something so unexpected and yet so heartbreaking.

Olivia reached out, grabbing onto his hands, her tears falling shamelessly. The feel of his fingers in hers grounded her, steadying the erratic beat of her heart. She squeezed his fingers gently, the touch a silent plea.

"Look at me," she whispered fiercely, her voice trembling. "Elliot, look at me."

Elliot raised his head slowly, meeting her eyes. His gaze was raw and mirrored her own, a vulnerability laid bare. A silent pleading had replaced the usual intensity in his eyes.

Olivia felt a lump form in her throat as their gazes locked. She could see the pain, the uncertainty, and the desperate love he held for her. "I am scared,” she managed to whisper through her tears. "I know you say that I’m enough, but there are certain things you are used to getting that I will never, ever, ever be able to give you. And it might be fine for right now, but what will happen when you start needing them again?”

Elliot felt a pang in his chest as he heard the fear in her voice. He squeezed her hands tightly, needing to reassure her. "Olivia, I swear," he said, his voice thick with emotion, "I won’t.”

Olivia shook her head helplessly. "But how do you know that? How can I believe you?" she said, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I don't even understand your need to dominate.”

Elliot drew in a shuddering breath. This was it, the moment of truth. “I’m not a dominant. I’m not. I…,” he began, his voice low but steady. “The right term is a sad*st. I get off on punishing women.”

Olivia’s eyes widened, the admission knocking the air out of her lungs. She felt a strange mixture of shock and understanding.

He could see the mixture of emotions in her eyes, which pained him. "When you left, I swore I would stop it if that's what it took to get you back,” he continued, his voice laced with shame. "But I am done with it. You mean more to me than anything else.”

Olivia swallowed, digesting this raw truth. She wanted to believe him, but fear and doubt still clung to her. "I want to believe you. You have no idea how badly I want to believe you. But I can't,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

Elliot held her gaze, his eyes filled with hurt and determination. He knew he had to convince her, to make her understand. He slowly raised her hand, holding it against his heart, her hand over the rapid beating of it. "This is me. All of me. And I'm all yours." he said, his voice a rough whisper.

Olivia could feel the thump of his heart beneath her palm, the physical proof of his vow. She closed her eyes, the tears still falling silently down her cheeks. She wanted to believe him, and she ached to believe him. “Elliot,” she managed to say through the lump in her throat.

Olivia slowly placed her other hand on his chest, feeling the warmth of his body underneath her touch. She could feel her resolve cracking, the depth of his sincerity at this moment making her waver.

Without thinking, she leaned forward. The kiss was immediate, their emotions pouring out in a messy, desperate tangle of lips and tongues. Elliot responded with equal enthusiasm, his hands wrapping around her back, hauling her onto his lap.

Olivia straddled him, her body fitting against him like a puzzle piece as her arms slid around his shoulders. The kiss was intense, a silent communication of all the pain, love, and desperation they both felt.

Elliot's hands roamed over her back, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed so tightly together it was almost painful. He deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers, his hands gripping her with a possessive edge.

Olivia felt like she was drowning in him, her body responding to his touch as always. His possessive grip on her and the insistence of his kiss made her head spin. She pushed closer, her fingers digging into his shoulders, as she returned the kiss with equal enthusiasm.

Elliot bit down on her bottom lip, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh. The small gasp that escaped her lips was like music to his ears, making his grip on her tighten more. He nipped, licked, and sucked on her lower lip, his movements rough and hungry.

Olivia arched against him, the sting of his biting making her shiver. His aggressive mouth against hers was the only thing grounding her to reality. The rest of her body was reduced to a quivering mess. One of her hands found the back of his head, her fingers gripping his short hair.

As they broke apart, they both breathed heavily, their eyes dark with desire. Olivia stood and grabbed his hand, wordlessly leading him to the bedroom. The air was charged with tension, and the silence between them was heavy.

She closed the bedroom door behind them, the sound of the lock echoing in the silent room. Olivia turned to face Elliot, her eyes a mix of want and trepidation. The room was dark except for the light from the city filtering in through the sliding doors leading to the balcony.

Elliot stepped closer to her, his silent movement like that of a predator stalking prey. He stopped barely an inch from her, his height towering over her, making her seem small. He didn’t touch her, though, instead just letting the air crackle between them.

As Elliot stood there watching, Olivia slowly began to undress. Her hands moved almost robotically, working to unbutton her shirt and slide it down her arms. She knew he was watching her and could feel the heat of his gaze on her skin.

She continued, stripping off each piece of clothing, layer by layer, until she was standing naked before him. She looked at him, her eyes meeting his in a silent challenge, daring him to speak, to react.

Elliot's eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her—the smooth expanse of her skin, the curve of her hips, the way her hair fell over her shoulders. He didn't speak, just watched her with an intense, possessive gaze.

Olivia didn’t shrink beneath his gaze, instead standing tall and proud. Her confidence didn’t waver even though she bared not just her physical body but her soul. She let him look, his gaze almost caressing her as it raked over her skin.

Olivia stepped forward, closing the gap between them. Her fingers moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it slowly. Each button opened exposed another inch of skin, her touch deliberate and steady. When she was done, she pushed the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. Her hands then moved to his belt, unbuckling it with a quick flick of her wrist.

She continued to undress him, removing each piece of clothing with a slow, deliberate movement. He stood unmoving, letting her do as she pleased, his eyes never leaving hers. It was a strange reversed role, and the thought made her hands shake slightly as she undid his pants.

She pushed his pants down his legs, her fingers skimming over the muscular contours of his thighs. He was just as naked as she, but instead of feeling vulnerable, Olivia felt empowered. She took a step back, taking him in, letting her eyes roam over his physique - broad shoulders, strong arms, a chiseled abdomen...

She stepped closer to him again, her body nearly touching his. Her hands came up, resting on his chest, just above his heart. She could feel his heart beating, the rhythm quickening as her fingertips touched his skin. She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes, her gaze challenging.

Elliot's eyes narrowed, the muscles in his jaw clenching with restraint as he struggled to control himself. Her touch, her gaze, it was like a match being struck against dry wood. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to take her. But he held back her silent command to wait, to let her take the lead, making him stand still.

Olivia knew what she was doing to him and could feel the tension in his body coiled tight, ready to snap. The power she held in this moment was a heady feeling. Her hands slowly slid down his torso, her nails scratching softly against his skin. She could feel the heat coming off him, the barely contained lust.

Her hands continued downward, skimming along his hips, her fingertips just a whisper from the very part of him that desperately needed her attention. She looked at him again, her gaze steady, her lips curling into a small smile. She knew how much this was testing him, how far she could push until he snapped.

Her hand finally reached the part of him that craved her touch. It was a feather-light touch, barely there, and yet it made him shiver. Her hand lingered there for a moment, her fingers tracing the length of him before moving back up his body.

Her other hand slid around his neck, her fingertips playing with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Her body pressed against his now, the heat of her skin against his sending a rush of desire through him.

She leaned up, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear, her voice a soft, taunting whisper.

“What do you want?” she whispered, her tongue sliding out to flick against his earlobe. Her hands continued their exploration of his body, her touch everywhere and nowhere all at once. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, drawing out the moment, drawing him further into her web.

Elliot gritted his teeth, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He wanted to touch her, to pin her down and take her right then and there. But he couldn’t, not until she let him. His breathing was ragged, his eyes dark with lust and frustration.

Olivia smiled against his ear, taking a perverse pleasure in his struggle for control. “You haven’t answered the question, baby,” she murmured, her lips trailing over his jawline. Her hands continued to roam, her touch both torturous and heavenly at the same time.

She nipped at his chest, her teeth scraping along his pecs, leaving a trail of red marks that she could see in the dim light. Her body was flush against his now, the soft curves of her pressed against his hard lines. She could feel him hardening further against her stomach, the knowledge of how badly he wanted her making her almost giddy.

Her hand moved back down, her thumb tracing over the tip of his co*ck, her touch teasing and light. She could hear his breathing hitch, the sound a desperate mix of want and frustration. “Tell me what you want,” she prompted again, her words another taunt, her hand still barely touching him.

Elliot swallowed hard, his jaw clenching tighter. His body was taut, his control hanging by a thread. “You,” he managed to grit out, his voice raw and hoarse. I want you.”

Olivia smiled against his skin, satisfied with his answer. Her lips trailed down his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin. Her hands moved to his ass, her fingers grasping at the muscles there, her hold tight and possessive.

She felt a shudder run through him as her hands gripped him harder, his body reacting to her touch in the most primal way. Her lips moved further down, leaving hot kisses in their wake, her tongue tracing along the v-lines of his abdomen.

She finally, finally dropped to her knees in front of him, her hands on his ass. Her eyes looked up at him through her lashes, the intensity of her gaze making him bite back a groan.

She looked at his co*ck, hard and ready, and her tongue flicked out, just a taste. She could hear his sharp intake of breath, the sound of him barely holding himself together. Her hands on his ass keep him from moving.

Her lips brushed against him, her tongue darting out again, another slow, tortuous lick, this time from base to tip. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was straining to keep still. Her hands continue to knead at his ass.

She continued her torment, her tongue tracing little patterns along his co*ck, her mouth just hovering over him. She looked up at him again, watching the effect she had on him. His eyes are half-lidded, his breaths coming in labored pants.

“Please,” he muttered, the word barely intelligible past the lump in his throat. His body was taut, and his muscles were strained with the effort to not move against her. She could tell he was starting to lose control.

Olivia smiled, satisfied. She knew she had him exactly where she wanted him. She took him into her mouth then, slowly and deliberately, and it took all his strength not to thrust forward. Her hands were on his ass, pushing him deeper.

She moved her mouth back up, her tongue swirling around the tip for a moment.

Her hands and mouth moved together then, the combination driving Elliot insane. His hips jerked, but she kept him still with her hands. He tangled his fingers in her hair, holding her as if she were his lifeline.

She went deeper, taking more of him into her mouth, her desire rising in tandem. She could hear him groaning above her, his grip on her hair growing tighter. She knew he was right on the edge.

She kept up the pace, her mouth and hands working together to push him further and further towards the edge. His moans were desperate, his control slipping. He was muttering something above her, but his words were too jumbled to make out.

And then, just as she knew he was about to come, she stopped. She pulled back, letting him go with an audible 'pop.' Her hands moved to his thighs, holding him back. She looked up at him, a wicked gleam in her eyes.

He was practically growling now, frustration and need mixing together in his expression. His hips flexed, seeking the release he was so close to just a moment ago. His chest was heaving, his eyes dark with desire. “God, Liv,” he groaned, his voice rough and raw.

“Patience, baby,” she said, her voice as calm as possible, though her effect on him was written all over her face. Her hands moved up his thighs, her nails scraping lightly over his skin as they moved up his body as she stood.

His eyes roamed over her body, taking in every inch of her. She was like a vision of sin, and he wanted nothing more than to devour her.

She stepped closer to him, her body pressing against his, her chest flush against his. Her hands came up to rest on his shoulders, her fingers tracing small patterns along his skin. She tilted her head back to look at him, her dark eyes nearly feral.

She leaned up, her lips hovering just millimeters from his own. She could feel his ragged breaths on her skin, the heat of his body against hers. “Make love to me, Elliot,” she whispered, her voice a sultry purr.

In an instant, he had her lifted in his arms, his hands on her ass as he walked them over to the bed. He laid her down on the mattress, his body covering hers a moment later.

He was devouring her with his mouth, lips, teeth, and tongue, leaving hot trails of sensation along her skin. He kisses and nips at her throat and shoulders, his hands roaming her body, touching and caressing every inch of her he can reach.

His touch was more than she could bear, and she squirmed underneath him, her body arching into his. She could feel him pressing against her, his hardness a tantalizing promise of what was to come. She gasped out his name, her hands grasping at his back, her nails digging into his skin.

Elliot’s mouth was everywhere, his lips moving down her body, leaving behind a trail of fire. He worshiped her with his touch, hands, and mouth, exploring every inch of her skin as if she were his goddess, a living, breathing deity that he’d been blessed to touch.

Olivia felt like she was going to combust, the heat between them rising higher and higher. She wanted him desperately, her body arching off the bed, silently pleading for more. She panted and gasped as his lips and tongue found her nipple, her voice growing hoarse from calling out his name.

Elliot relished the taste of her, his mouth teasing and licking, his lips sucking and nipping at her sensitive skin. He wanted to savor her, to make the moment last as long as possible, but the growing need in his body was harder and harder to ignore. He could feel her writhing beneath him, her body trembling with unbridled desire.

She was nearly delirious with want, her body a live wire with electric need. Her legs hooked around his hips, pulling him closer, begging for more. She could feel his hardness against her core, the sensation both maddening and heavenly. “Elliot,” she gasped, her voice a throaty plea. “Please... I can’t... I need…”

“I know,” he murmured against her skin, his lips trailing down her body, his hands roaming her curves. “I know what you need, baby.” He moved down, his mouth finding her cl*t, his tongue flicking out, tasting her.

Her back arched, her hands grasping at the sheets as she writhed under his touch. She moaned his name, her voice a desperate gasp. “Oh God... Elliot... don’t... stop...”

Elliot had no intention of stopping. He kept his mouth on her, his tongue and lips working her over, driving her higher and higher. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with pleasure. Her gasps and moans filled the room, a sinful symphony of desire.

She was right on the edge, her body trembling, her breath coming in short, quick pants. She was so close, so close, just needing one little push to send her spiraling over the edge. She lifted her hips, grinding against his mouth, pleading wordlessly.

Elliot knew she was close; he could feel it in how her body responded and moved against him. He doubled down on his efforts, using his tongue and fingers to drive her higher and higher. He wanted to see her come apart, to watch her lose control.

She teetered on the edge for a few more seconds, her body taut, her muscles straining. And then, finally, blessedly, she comes undone. Her c*nt clenched, her toes curling, her back arched off the bed as pleasure washed over her in waves.

Elliot's name was a strangled gasp on her lips as she rode out her climax. He continued his attention, his tongue and fingers bringing her down slowly, prolonging the pleasure.

She was boneless, her body lax and sated. Her eyes were closed, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She felt like she was floating, her body buzzing with aftershocks of pleasure. She felt utterly claimed, completely and utterly his.

Elliot pulled away after a moment, his body hovering over hers. He watched her, his eyes roaming her face, taking in her flushed skin and the sated look in her eyes. He was still hard, his need for her burning just as strong as ever.

“Come here,” she murmured, her voice a hoarse whisper. She lifted her arms, her fingers grasping for him. She needed to feel him, skin to skin, his body against hers.

He complied willingly, his body settling on top of her, his weight pressing her into the mattress. He captured her lips in a kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth, tasting her. She responded with eagerness, her hands roaming over his body, reacquainting herself with every hard plane and contour of him.

She could feel his hard co*ck against her belly, his need as strong as ever. Her legs wrapped around his hips again, her body seeking him out. “Inside,” she gasped against his mouth, her voice desperate and pleading, “Inside. Now. Please, El. I need you.”

Elliot growled against her mouth, his body responding to her words instantly. He reached between them, positioning himself at her entrance, his hand trembling with the effort to hold back. He kissed her again, deep and hard, his tongue tangling with hers as he thrust into her, filling her up in one thrust.

She gasped as he entered her, her body opening up to him as if they were made for each other. Her hands clutched at his back, her nails digging into his skin. She felt so full, so complete, like a part of her soul was found. “Feels so good,” she gasped, her voice breathless and strained. “You… you feel so good.”

“Liv… god, you’re so tight, baby,” Elliot panted, his voice ragged. He was trying to hold back, to take it slow, but her body was making that nearly impossible. He pulled back, only to thrust back in, his body moving with hers, always so in sync.

She met his thrusts, her body arching to take him deeper. She was mewling, her voice rising and falling in a chorus of pleasure. She had never felt so close to anyone, so completely melded with another person, as she did at this moment. “Harder,” she pleaded, her nails digging into his skin, her hips lifting to take him in even deeper.

Elliot had no choice but to comply; her words were the last thing he could take. He thrusts into her harder, each stroke deeper than the previous one. He was losing control, his body responding to hers, his need for her overriding everything else. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Oh God,” she moaned, her voice a ragged gasp. Her body was on fire, every nerve ending alive with sensation. She could feel him deep inside her, his body a hard, hot presence that just fed her need. She could feel another coil of pleasure in her belly, winding tighter and tighter.

Elliot could feel her c*nt tightening around him, the sensation driving him wild. His climax was building, his body straining for release. “Let go, Liv,” he muttered against her ear, his breath hot on her skin. “Let me feel you, baby. I want to hear you. Let go.”

His words sent her over the edge, and she came apart beneath him, her c*nt clenching around him as the org*sm washed over her in waves. She cried out his name, her voice strangled and hoarse.

Her climax triggered his own, and he followed her over the edge a moment later. He buried himself deep inside her, his body shuddering as his release crashed over him. “f*ck, Liv…” he gasped, his voice broken and hoarse, “God, you’re so good. So good...”

She was clinging to him, her body still trembling from org*sm. She could feel his heartbeat pounding against her own, their bodies slick with sweat as they came down from the high together. She felt utterly boneless, her brain completely fried from pleasure.

Elliot collapsed on top of her, his body lax and sated. His face was buried into the crook of her neck, his lips just barely skimming against her skin. He couldn’t form words, too overwhelmed by the force of what just happened. He was utterly wrecked.

She felt the same way; her brain was fuzzy, and her body was completely spent. She wanted to say something, but all that came out was a soft, sated moan. She felt so blissed out. She could have just fallen asleep like this with him still buried inside her.

They lay there for a while, just the sound of their breathing filling the room. Elliot finally moved to pull out of her, rolling onto his side and lying next to her. He pulled her into his arms, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if he was afraid to let her go.

She went willingly, snuggling into his chest, her body molding to his like it was always meant to be. She buried her head into the crook of his neck, her breathing slowly returning to normal. She was utterly spent, her body so deliciously sore.

For a few minutes, they just lay there, their limbs tangled, their bodies pressed close together. Elliot ran his fingers lightly up and down her back, tracing soothing patterns on her skin. She could feel his heart beating, the steady rhythm grounding her in the moment.

“That was… intense,” she finally murmured, her voice muffled by his chest. She was not sure what else to say. She felt like her brain had been short-circuited like she was too overwhelmed by pleasure to form coherent sentences.

Elliot gave a low, rumbling chuckle, the sound reverberating through his chest. “Understatement,” he replied, his voice rough and low. He gave her a little squeeze, holding her even closer. “You’re gonna be the death of me, woman.”

She let out a soft huff of laughter, her hand sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulder. “Oh, you weren’t complaining a few minutes ago,” she teased, lifting her head to look up at him.

He smirked at her, his hand moving to cup her face. “No, I definitely wasn’t,” he agreed, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw. “But I may need a few minutes before we go again.”

She gave a soft, tired laugh, her eyes drifting shut as she nuzzled into his touch. “I’m not sure I can even move right now, let alone go again,” she admitted, her voice a sleepy murmur.

He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. “Good. Rest, baby,” he said, his voice a gentle command. “You’re gonna need the energy for later.”

She murmured softly in agreement, her body already relaxing against his. She was so tired and so utterly sated that all she wanted to do was sleep for a million years. But she knew Elliot would wake her up again, probably in the middle of the night, when he was ready to go again. She was already looking forward to it.

With that thought in mind, she gave a tired sigh, her body snuggling closer to his. “Love you,” she murmured, her voice fading as sleep overtook her.

Elliot looked down at her tenderly, watching as she drifted off. She looked so peaceful, so utterly at ease in his arms. It was an expression he rarely got to see on her face. He held her closer, his heart swelling with love and affection. “I love you too,” he whispered against her hair. “Always.”

He stayed there, holding her as she slept, his mind replaying the events of the night. He thought about their fight, their argument, and how easily they both flew off the handle. But then he also thought about the reconciliation, the healing, and how complete he had finally felt when he was inside her, their bodies connected together in the most intimate way possible.

He couldn’t imagine a life without her, without the woman who knows him better, loves him more fiercely, and challenges him more than anyone else. He would put up with the fights, the arguments, and everything because being with her was all worth it. To be her soulmate.

Holding her close, he let his eyes close as he finally relaxed. All was right with the world for the moment, and he intended to savor every second. Tomorrow, they’d go back to regular life with all its messy, chaotic complications. But tonight was theirs, and he would cherish every single moment.

With her in his arms and their bodies tangled together, Elliot drifted off to sleep, content and at peace.

Chapter 11: Never Tear Us Apart

Chapter Text

Her eyes slowly opened, her mind still fuzzy from sleep. She took a moment to get her bearings, her body slowly coming back to awareness. She could feel the heat of Elliot’s body next to her, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close even in sleep.

She took a moment just to stay there, enjoying the feeling of his arms around her, his breath soft against her skin. But as her mind fully awakened, she suddenly remembered their conversation from earlier. Her mind began to wander; she started to try and untangle herself from Elliot’s arms.

She moved silently, trying not to wake Elliot as she slipped out of his arms and away from the warmth of his body. Once she was out of bed, she stood there momentarily, listening to his steady breathing. Satisfied he was still asleep, she padded across the room, wincing slightly as her bare feet touched the cold marble floor.

She picked up his shirt from the floor, which had been discarded earlier. It was large and loose on her, the fabric hanging down past her ass. But it was warm and comfortable, and it smelled strongly of him – a mixture of musk and soap and the familiar scent of his aftershave.

She moved across the room, her steps light and silent. She pushed open the sliding doors, the cool night air rushing in and causing a chill to run down her spine. But she ignored the cold, stepping out onto the balcony.

She was alone, standing on the balcony in the cold night air. She leaned against the railing, looking at the cityscape below her, the lights twinkling like stars.

Suddenly, her attention was pulled away from the city view. She heard a sound from inside the room – a soft, strangled gasp, followed by the rustle of sheets. She recognized the sounds immediately – Elliot was having a nightmare.

She pushed off the railing and hurried back inside the room. Elliot was still asleep on the bed, but his body was tense, his muscles taut. Small sounds were coming from his throat, strangled moans and gasps that showed he was firmly caught in the grip of a nightmare.

She moved to his side, her heart clenching in her chest as she heard the pain and fear in his voice. She reached out a hand, lightly caressing his cheek. “Elliot,” she whispered, her voice soft. “Hey. Hey, baby. I’m here.”

His eyes opened but were wild and unfocused, still caught up in the nightmare. He grabbed her by the waist, pulling her beside him.

He pulled her down to the bed with him, his arms wrapping around her tightly as if he was afraid she would disappear. His eyes met hers, and before she could say anything, he gasped, “Marry me.”

Her heart skipped a beat. The suddenness of his request took her aback, and for a moment, she just stared back at him in shock. But she recovered quickly, continuing to stroke his cheek with her palm. “What?” she managed to choke out.

His grip on her tightened, his eyes intense as he looked at her. “I want you to marry me,” he repeated, his voice hoarse and calm.

She stared back at him, her mind racing. This was the last thing she expected. “Elliot… I think you’re dreaming,” she said, her voice soft.

He didn’t respond; he just continued to look at her with intense, unwavering eye contact. His eyes were so clear, so wholly focused on her. She couldn’t think of a time when he’d been more awake and present. She swallowed hard, her heart beating faster. This wasn’t a dream – he was asking her to marry him.

She let herself be pulled against his chest, her body molding to his like it was always meant to be. As she lay there, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, her mind was still spinning. He’d just asked her to marry him.

When Olivia woke up the following day, she was alone in the bed. She rolled over, her hand sliding over the cool sheets next to her. There was no sign of Elliot, and the space beside her was empty, but she could hear music coming from his gym.

She stood up, pulling on her discarded panties from the night before. She still had on his shirt coming down to just below her ass. Satisfied, she headed towards the sound of the music.

When she reached the gym, she pushed the door open, her eyes taking in the sight of Elliot lifting weights. He was wearing no shirt and sweatpants, sweat glistening on his skin. He didn’t notice her at first, continuing his reps, his muscles rippling with each movement.

She stood there for a moment, watching him. Her eyes roamed over his broad shoulders, muscular back, and toned arms. He looked so damn good like this, all sweaty and focused.

“See something you like?” he teased, suddenly looking up and catching her staring at him. He put down the weights, a co*cky grin on his face.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smile curving her lips. "Just admiring the view," she said, her voice low. She leaned against the doorframe, looking at him with amusem*nt and desire.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with a towel, his eyes roaming over her appreciatively. He took in the sight of her wearing his shirt, hanging loose on her body. “You’re looking pretty damn good yourself, beautiful,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.

She blushed slightly, feeling a familiar heat pooling in her stomach. He always had this effect on her. The ability to make her weak in the knees with only a few words and a heated look.

But she didn’t want to give in so easily. She pushed herself off the doorframe and sauntered over to him, her hips swaying in a way she knew he couldn’t resist. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good,” he groaned, watching her approach. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of her in his shirt, her hips swaying hypnotically.

“Hmmm,” she started, standing in front of him now. She reached out a hand, trailing her fingers along his chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the muscles rippling beneath. “You didn't have any weird dreams, or, like, wake up at all?”

He swallowed hard as her fingers traced over his skin, making his body tense with desire. “Mmm-mmm, no,” he managed to get out, his voice gruff. He reached out a hand to grip her hip, his grip tight. “I mean, none that I can think of. There was the little thing of asking you to marry me, but, uh, aside from that. No, nothing.”

Her hand froze against his chest, her heart skipping a beat. She wondered if last night had just been a dream, a product of his nightmare. But hearing him mention it now, seeing the intensity in his eyes – it was all real. He’d actually asked her to marry him.

She took a deep breath, steeling herself before jokingly smacking his chest. “Don’t mess with me like that.”

He smiled lazily, a co*cky expression on his face. "No? How should I mess with you? Like this?" His hand moved up her waist, his fingers lightly tracing her spine.

She gasped in surprise as he scooped her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. "Elliot!" she protested, her arms looping around his neck.

He pressed his mouth against hers, his lips firm and demanding. She gasped into his mouth as his tongue dipped inside, the kiss deep and hungry.

She reluctantly pulled away, her breathing heavy and her lips swollen. She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, which was darkened with lust and love.

“I meant it. I want you to marry me,” he said hoarsely, his arms holding her firmly against his chest.

“Why?” she managed to stammer out.

“Why?” he echoed, his voice hoarse. “Because I want to spend every second of the rest of my life with you.”

Her breath caught in her throat. His words were so sincere, so full of feeling. For a moment, she was speechless. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest, her body responding to his touch and his words.

He shifted her slightly in his arms, his grip tightening around her. "I don't expect you to say yes right away. I know I'm complicated.”

She smiled a little at that. “Just a little,” she teased.

He chuckled, his face softening. “And I know I’m not perfect. But I love you,” he said, his eyes intense and unwavering. “I love you more than I ever thought possible. I can’t imagine my life without you, not for even one damn minute. I know we’ve been through a lot, but I don’t want to go through anything else without you by my side.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her breath caught in her throat. She'd always known he loved her, but hearing him say it like this at that moment was overwhelming. She could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, but she wasn't sure if they were tears of joy, fear, or both. “I’ll think about it. Okay?”

He nodded, his expression solemn. “Okay,” he said quietly. He set her down gently on the ground, his arms reluctantly unwrapping from around her body.

She took a step back, her legs feeling shaky. She looked at him for a moment, her heart filled with so many emotions she couldn’t even begin to understand. “I’m gonna go take a shower,” she managed to get out, her voice barely above a whisper.

He watched her leave the gym, his eyes never wavering from her form. Even as she disappeared from view, he could still feel the electricity in the air, her absence like a physical ache in his chest.

A Week Later…

Olivia stepped out of the elevator and into their penthouse one week later. Today, they were moving the remainder of her things from her apartment.

She dropped the box she had on the marble floor and walked further into the penthouse. She still could hardly believe she would be living here, in this place, with Elliot. She hadn’t grown up with money, and the luxury of the penthouse was almost overwhelming.

As she moved through the space, she couldn’t help but wonder how her life had come to this. She had never thought it possible to end up with someone like Elliot, someone so vastly different from her in terms of background and lifestyle. But here she was, about to start a brand new life with him.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of Elliot’s office door opening. She turned around just as he walked out, his face breaking into a smile when he saw her. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, striding towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Hey,” she replied, resting her head against his chest. His proximity immediately made her feel better, his familiar scent calming her nerves.

Elliot looked down at her, clearly reluctant to let go of her. “I have to leave early tomorrow morning for a business trip,” he said softly. “I’ll be gone for a few days.”

Olivia felt a pang of disappointment at the thought of him being gone, but she tried to keep her expression neutral. “Oh,” she said, pulling away from him slightly. “Where are you going?”

“Chicago,” he replied, his hand still resting on her waist. “There’s some work I have to take care of there. I’m sorry I can’t take you with me, but—”

“No, it’s okay,” she cut him off, not wanting him to feel guilty about leaving her. “I have work tomorrow, anyways.”

He smiled slightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on her hip. “I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured, his voice low.

Her heart fluttered at his words, but she tried to keep her emotions in check. “You're only going to be gone a few days,” she said, trying to come off casual.

“Yeah, but a few days without you feels like an eternity,” he replied earnestly. He leaned down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin.

She closed her eyes, melting into his touch. Everything about him was warm safe and comfortable. She didn't want him to go, but she knew he had to fulfill his obligations. “You better not forget about me while you're gone,” she said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled, his breath warm against her skin. “As if I could ever forget about you. You’ll be the only thing I’m thinking about. I’ll be counting down the hours until I’m back with you.”

He pulled back slightly so he could look at her. His eyes were filled with warmth and affection. “Do you have an answer for me yet?”

She knew he was referring to his proposal. Her heart skipped a beat at the memory of his words, the look in his eyes as he asked her to marry him. She still hadn't made a decision, hadn't given him an answer.

She gave him a sly smile. "So, impatient Mr. Stabler," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusem*nt.

Elliot chuckled, not letting her dodge his question. “Can you blame me? It’s been a week since I asked, and I’m still waiting for an answer.”

She laughed, enjoying the light-hearted banter between them. “You’ll know soon enough,” she teased, poking him in the chest.

He chuckled again, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine,” he said, a hint of amusem*nt in his voice.

He changed the subject, his expression growing more serious. “Taylor said the movers emptied your apartment,” he stated, gesturing toward the box she had left by the door. “I’ve been in my office all day so I didn’t see them bringing anything in. How’d it go?”

She shrugged, trying to keep her voice casual. “It went well. Everything is here, everything’s fine. I’m sure there are a few boxes and things I need to go through, but I’ll do that tomorrow after work.”

He nodded, his face studying hers intently. He was always perceptive, always picking up on the slightest change in her mood or expressions. But he didn’t push her, respecting her need to go at her own pace.

She appreciated that about him. Despite the huge life change between them, he never made her feel rushed or pressured. But even so, she knew he was probably dying to know her answer regarding his proposal.

Seeing the love and concern in his eyes, she felt a wave of gratitude and affection as she looked at him. Sure, He could be difficult, stubborn, and pushy, but he was also the most loyal and protective man she’d ever known. And even though she hadn’t given him an answer yet, she already knew what that answer would be. She planned to tell him before his birthday party on Saturday.

Four Days Later…

Olivia was sitting alone in the penthouse, absently scrolling through her phone when the call came. It was Elliot’s brother, Randall, and the tone of his voice immediately made her tense.

“Olivia,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “There’s been an accident. Elliot’s helicopter crashed, and they can’t find him. We’re all heading to the penthouse now.”

She felt a jolt of fear and disbelief go through her. “What do you mean they can’t find him?” she demanded, her voice shaking.

“They’re searching the surrounding area. But there’s no sign of him yet.” Randall’s voice was grim, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. “Turn on the news. We’ll be there soon.”

She hung up the phone and immediately flicked on the television. Sure enough, the news was already reporting on the crash. There were aerial images of the crash site, helicopters, and search parties surrounding it.

Olivia felt numb, her mind reeling. She couldn't believe what she was watching, couldn't believe that Elliot was missing, that he might… No, she wouldn't finish that thought. She couldn't.

But the news reports were grim. They were already speculating that the odds of finding Elliot alive were slim. “No,” she whispered to no one in particular. “No, no, no.”

Within an hour, Bernie, Randall, Joey, DeeDee and Sharon arrived in the penthouse, their faces pale with fear and worry. Olivia could see the tension in their bodies, the way they held themselves stiffly as if bracing for the bad news.

They gathered around her in the living room, all of them looking at her with a mix of hope and desperation. Olivia felt a pang in her chest. They were all hoping she had answers, some words of reassurance. But she didn’t. She was just as scared and lost as they were.

“The reports say they’re still looking for him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“He’s strong,” Bernie said, her voice quivering. “He’s smart. If anyone can make it through this, it’ll be Elliot.”

Olivia nodded, trying to cling to the hope in Bernie’s words. “They’ll find him,” she said, more to herself than to anyone else. “They have to find him. We haven’t had any time. We need to have more time.”

Bernie wrapped her arms around Olivia as if sensing her need for comfort. “You’re going to have plenty of time. We are so glad you’re here with us and in Elliot’s life. You’ve made such a difference to him. He never let anyone get… close until you came along.”

Olivia felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She had never fully realized how important she was to Elliot until now. His whole family was gathering around her, treating her like one of their own.

They turned their attention back to the television, watching the news anchor deliver new information about the search. They all held their breath, hoping for some kind of good news.

“We’ve received an update from the search team,” the anchor said, her voice tense. “Elliot Stabler and his colleague have been found safe and well. And at this moment are on their way back to New York.”

An audible gasp filled the room, the heavy tension lifting instantly. Relief and joy washed over them like a wave.

Olivia turned to look at the elevator, her heart hammering in her chest. She was frozen in place, unable to move, as the doors slowly opened.

And then, there he was. Standing in the doorway, looking battered and bruised but very much alive. He met her gaze, and for a moment, it was like they were the only two people in the room.

“What the hell are you all doing here?”

Bernie threw her arms around Elliot, clinging to him tightly. “What happened? Why didn’t you call?” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

Elliot wrapped his arms around his mother, holding her just as tightly. “I had an accident,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I lost my phone.”

Olivia watched from a distance as the rest of the Stablers embraced Elliot, their voices filled with relief and gratitude. She felt mixed emotions coursing through her - relief, love, fear, and a thousand other things she couldn’t even name.

He looked up and met her gaze. Even across the room, he could see the tears streaming down her face. He pulled away from his family, “Need to say hi to my girl.” he murmured as he walked over to her.

As Elliot approached her, she felt her body trembling with a mixture of relief and emotion. When he finally stood before her, she had to fight the urge to throw herself into his arms.

He reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumb grazing her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Miss me?” he asked softly.

She let out a small sob and nodded, unable to speak. She reached up and placed her palms over his hands, feeling the roughness of his knuckles against her skin.

He pulled her into his arms, and she buried her face into his chest. The steady thump of his heart reassured her more than anything else.

He held her tight, his arms strong and protective around her. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his voice low and soothing. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured.

She lifted her head slightly, her face buried in his shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re standing here,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “I was so scared. I thought…”

He tightened his grip on her, his voice gruff with emotion. “Olivia. It’s alright. Liv, I’m here.”

She pulled back slightly to look at him, her eyes searching his face. He looked tired, beaten, bruised. But he was alive, and that was all that mattered. “I was so scared,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. “I thought I lost you forever.”

He stroked her hair back from her face, his touch gentle and soothing. “Not a chance,” he said firmly. “I’m right here, and I’m not leaving you, I promise.”

Olivia let out a small cry of relief, her body sagging against his. She closed her eyes and buried her face back into his shoulder, feeling his strength and warmth against her.

Eventually, the rest of his family left the penthouse, sensing that Elliot and Olivia needed some privacy. The two of them were left alone, standing in the living room, holding onto each other like lifelines.

Olivia lifted her head from his shoulder once again, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s after midnight,” she said, her hands clutching tightly to the fabric of his shirt.

He chuckled softly, still holding her close. “I’m not tired,” he said, his body still weary but his tone light.

She pulled back slightly to look up at him, studying his face in the dim light. “No, it’s your birthday,” she said, even as her hands roamed over his chest, checking him for any injuries.

He caught her hands in his, stilling her movements. “Yeah,” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

She pulled her hands out of his grip and reached up to touch his face, tracing the bruising under his eye. “Happy Birthday,” she said, her voice soft.

He placed his hands on her hips, pulling her close again. “Thank you,” he said dryly, his fingers gently kneading the soft flesh of her hips.

She let out a slight hum, the feel of his hands on her body sending a shiver down her spine. His touch was always like this, igniting something deep within her. She placed her hands on his chest, her fingers tracing the planes of his muscles through his shirt. “Do you want your birthday gift?”

His eyes darkened at the suggestion, his grip on her hips tightening slightly. “Yes,” he stated, his voice low and rough with desire.

Tears filled her eyes, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’ll marry you,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice hopeful and raw. He caressed her face gently, searching her expression.

She nodded, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy. “Yes. I’ll marry you,” she repeated firmly, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Elliot groaned in relief, his hands sliding up from her hips to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He buried his face in her hair, his breath warm against her ear. “Best birthday present ever,” he muttered.

She laughed softly, her arms wrapping around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m just getting started,” she promised, her voice a sultry whisper against his skin.

Elliot picked her up, his arms strong and secure around her body. She let out a small gasp of surprise, her legs automatically wrapping around his hips

He carried her to the shower, his mouth never leaving her skin as he nipped and kissed a trail from her ear down to her collarbone. Each touch sent a jolt of desire through her, her body pressing against his, wanting to be closer still.

They fumbled with their clothing, shedding it in a desperate dance of want and need. When they were finally bare, Elliot led her into the shower, the hot water cascading down around them.

He pressed her against the shower wall, his body pinning hers in place. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with hers as the water cascaded down around them. Her hands roamed over his body, tracing the planes of his muscular back, her nails digging into his flesh.

His mouth moved from her mouth to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She arched her back, offering herself up to his touch, desire coursing through her veins like a drug.

His hands were everywhere, caressing her body as if he were trying to commit each inch of her to memory. He kissed a trail down her chest, his lips closing over one of her nipples, sucking it into his mouth with a low growl.

She gasped and gripped his shoulders, her fingernails digging into his flesh, her body quivering with need. He released her nipple with a soft pop, his lips moving lower to the soft flesh of her stomach, then lower still.

Elliot dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands sliding down her thighs, spreading her legs apart. His eyes locked onto hers, dark with desire. “You’re mine,” he said, his voice gravelly with possession. “All mine.”

She shivered with anticipation, her breath coming in short gasps as his tongue traced a slow, torturous path up her inner thigh. “Yes,” she gasped, arching her back, needing more. “Yours.”

He smirked at her response, his lips curving into a satisfied smile. “Good,” he said gruffly before his mouth found her cl*t, his tongue swirling in a steady, relentless rhythm.

Olivia cried out, her hips bucking against his mouth, desperate for more. Her legs trembled, threatening to give out on her as he continued to work his magic on her body. “Elliot, oh God,” she gasped, her fingers sliding to the back of his head, holding him in place.

He lapped and sucked, tasting her, his own desire building with each one of her sounds of pleasure. “You taste so good,” he rumbled, his tongue delving deeper, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her as he continued to bring her closer and closer to the edge.

She was close, so close, her body tensing under his touch. Her head fell back against the shower wall, her eyes closed, her breath coming in panting gasps. “Oh God, don’t stop, don’t stop,” she pleaded, her words a desperate plea.

Elliot had no intention of stopping, his mouth never leaving her as he brought her over the edge, her body shuddering against him as she came with a loud cry of pleasure. He continued his ministrations as she rode out her org*sm, his tongue working her through it, prolonging the pleasure until she was a quivering mess in his arms.

Olivia sagged against the wall, her legs trembling, her body boneless and spent. He stood, his hands still steadying her against the wall, his body pressed against hers. His eyes were darkened with desire, his breath coming in short gasps. “I need you,” he whispered hoarsely, his mouth seeking hers, his hands roaming over her body.

She kissed him back, her mouth greedy and insistent, her body still craving his touch. Her hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him closer, wanting to feel all of him. “Red Room,” she gasped between kisses, her body arching against his. “Take me to the Red Room, Elliot.”

Elliot’s eyes darkened at her words, a mixture of hunger and possessiveness flashing in his gaze. Without a word, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her out of the shower, not bothering to even wrap a towel around either of them as he made his way to the Red Room.

She clung to him, her body naked and damp from the shower, her skin flushed with desire. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her lips trailing kisses along the sensitive flesh of his collarbone. “Need you,” she whispered, her voice ragged with need.

Elliot carried her into the Red Room, shutting and locking the door behind them before laying her on the bed. He stood over her for a moment, his eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch of her. “God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Olivia stretched out on the bed, her body arching in invitation. “Touch me,” she whispered, her hands reaching out for him, needing to feel his skin against hers.

She watched as he grabbed some rope, her insides quivering with anticipation. She lay there, her body offered up to him, her wrists held out in wait for him to bind them.

He tied her wrists together, his movements deft and practiced, the rope securing her wrists together above her head. She tugged at the restraints, testing their strength, her breath coming in quick little gasps of anticipation.

Her body shivered as he placed the blindfold over her eyes, robbing her of her sight but heightening her other senses. She was entirely at his mercy now, unable to see or move. Her body completely surrendered to him.

She waited, her body thrumming with anticipation, unsure what his next move would be. The sound of the oil being uncapped sent a shiver down her spine, her body arching slightly in response.

Olivia breathed in deep as he dripped the oil into her skin, his hands gliding over her body, his touch both soothing and arousing. She could feel the heat building between her legs as he worked the oil into her breasts.

She lay there, her body writhing under his touch, her senses on overload. The feel of his hands on her skin, the smell of the oil, the sound of his breathing- it was all too much, yet not enough, at the same time.

He moved slowly, taking his time to massage the oil into every inch of her body, his hands roaming over her skin with a deliberate slowness. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “Completely surrendered to me.”

His hands moved to her thighs, spreading them apart, his fingers kneading the oiled flesh. His touch was slow and deliberate, his fingers moving closer and closer to her core, but never quite touching her. “Please,” she pleaded, her body arching involuntarily.

He chuckled at her plea, his lips curling into a smirk. “Please, what?” he asked, his fingers trailing lazily along the inside of her thigh. “What do you want, Liv?”

“You,” she gasped, her body quivering with need. “I want you. Please, touch me.” Her voice was ragged, desperate with need.

“Mmm, you’ll have to be more specific than that, baby,” he teased, his fingers still avoiding the one spot she needed him most. “You need to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

She let out a frustrated groan, her body arching again. “Devour me, Elliot,” she gasped, her voice ragged with need. “Please, use your mouth. I need you. I need you to touch me.”

He grinned at her plea, his eyes dark with desire. “Now, was that so hard?” he teased before his mouth was on her, his tongue dancing over her cl*t, tasting and caressing her in all the right ways.

She cried out, her body arching off the bed, her hands unconsciously tugging at the ropes binding her wrists. She was drowning in sensation, the feel of his mouth on her almost too much to bear. “God, yes, don’t stop,” she gasped, her words a strangled plea.

He didn’t stop, his tongue expertly working her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge. He could feel her body shuddering beneath his touch, her gasps and moans growing more and more urgent. He loved seeing her like this, completely lost in pleasure, her body responding to his every move.

She was so close, her body tensing as she neared the edge. She could feel the pressure building inside her, her breath coming in short, panting gasps. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she pleaded, her body arching towards his mouth.

He had no intention of stopping, his mouth working her with a relentless rhythm, his goal to bring her as much pleasure as he possibly could. Her gasps and moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on to do more, to give her everything she was begging for.

She was on the precipice now, her body quivering with need. She gripped the rope bindings tighter, her body tensing as she sought release. “Please, Elliot, please,” she gasped, her voice raw with need. “I can’t take it anymore. I need to come, please.”

He groaned against her skin, the sound low and guttural. He quickened his pace, his tongue working her without mercy. Seeing her completely at the mercy of her own body’s desires was a beautiful sight.

She was lost now, her body writhing beneath him, consumed by the sensations he was stirring within her. Her mind had gone blank, her thoughts reduced to a primal need for release. “Elliot, I’m close, so close,” she gasped, her body on the verge of exploding.

He could feel her body shuddering under his mouth, her gasps and moans growing more and more desperate. Her climax was imminent, and he was determined to push her over the edge. He increased the pressure, his tongue working her in a steady, relentless rhythm.

And then she was coming, her body shuddering and arching off the bed, a guttural cry of pleasure escaping her lips. She came hard, her body straining against the ropes binding her wrists as the waves of pleasure washed over her, her mind going blank and her breath coming in ragged gasps.

He gently eased her through the aftershocks, his tongue softer now as he lapped and soothed her sensitive flesh. He watched as she slowly came down from her high, her body relaxing and her breathing returning to a more even pace.

She lay there, boneless and spent, her body sated and her mind blissfully empty. She felt utterly helpless and completely vulnerable, her body still tied and blindfolded, her sight and movement completely restricted.

He watched her for a moment, taking in the sight of her, entirely at his mercy. He loved seeing her like this, completely surrendered to him, her mind and body open to his touch. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

She shivered at his words, her body still sensitive and raw from her climax. “Untie me?” she whispered, her voice soft and vulnerable.

He smiled at her request, his fingers moving to the rope binding her wrists. He untied her quickly, gently massaging her wrists where the rope had left faint marks on her skin.

She flexed her wrists, wincing slightly at the soreness in her muscles. She took off the blindfold and blinked at him, her eyes adjusting to the light.

He was standing over her, looking down at her with a mixture of desire and satisfaction. His eyes roamed over her body, taking in the sight of her naked form, her skin still flushed and slick with oil.

She felt exposed under his gaze. Her body bared to him in a way that was both vulnerable and intimate. She watched as his eyes darkened with desire, his own body responding to the sight of her.

He kneeled on the bed, his hands reaching out to touch her, his fingers caressing her skin with a gentleness that was at odds with the rough treatment of a few moments before.

She shivered at his touch, her skin still sensitive to the slightest touch. His hands roamed over her body, caressing and soothing her as he slowly lowered himself behind her, settling behind her closed thighs.

Her position had her on her back still, with her lower body twisted to the left. His hands continued to roam over her body, caressing her skin and sending shivers down her spine.

He pressed into her from behind, “f*ck, Liv. You’re so f*cking tight.” His movements were slow and deliberate, his hands gripping her waist and thighs, pulling her against him.

She gasped at his words, her body arching against him. “Elliot,” she breathed, her voice ragged with desire. “God, you feel so good.”

He moved inside her, his pace slow and measured, his hips rolling against hers. “You’re so goddamn perfect,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “I could stay like this forever.”

She whimpered, her body quivering with pleasure. She could feel every inch of him, every movement sending waves of sensation through her. “More,” she gasped, her body arching against him. “Please, give me more.”

He obeyed her, his hands gripping her tighter, pulling her harder against him, increasing the pace and intensity of his movements. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his body nearing the edge.

Olivia was lost, her mind consumed by pleasure. Her body arched against his hips, her gasps and moans growing more and more urgent. "Just like that, don't stop," she gasped her words a ragged plea. "Please, don't stop."

He picked up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent and erratic. "Come for me, Liv," he panted, his voice rough and guttural. "I want to feel you come around my co*ck."

She was close, so close. Her body was tense, her muscles taut with pleasure, and every movement sent shockwaves throughout her body. "I'm close," she gasped, her body arching against him. "Harder.”

He pounded into her, his hips a steady rhythm, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "Goddamn, baby," he grunted, his voice barely a whisper.

He could feel it building within her, her body arching and quivering against him. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his voice ragged with desire. "Let go for me."

And then she was coming, her hands fisting the red sheets, a strangled cry ripping from her throat. She came hard, her body shuddering and trembling, her mind blank, and her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

He wasn’t far behind, the sight of her lost in pleasure enough to send him over the edge. He came with a rough grunt, his body shuddering, his head tilted toward the ceiling. His release was intense and explosive.

She lay there, boneless and spent, her body quivering with aftershocks. He collapsed beside her, his breathing ragged and heavy, his body slick with sweat.

Chapter 12: High

Chapter Text

Olivia's mind was a whirl of emotions, her body completely sated yet oddly vulnerable.

He reached out, his hand tracing a gentle pattern on her arm. "You okay, baby?" he asked, his voice rough with concern.

Olivia nodded, her body still too boneless to form coherent words. She could feel his eyes on her, his gaze a mixture of tenderness and possessiveness.

His hand continued to trace gentle patterns on her skin, his touch like a soothing balm. "You were incredible," he whispered, his voice low and rough.

She could feel her cheeks growing warm at his compliment. She didn't feel incredible; she felt like a mess, a tangle of emotions and sensations that she struggled to make sense of.

He seemed to sense her turmoil because he pulled her closer to him, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tightly. He kissed the top of her head, his fingers gently running through her hair. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice a comforting rumble.

She considered his question momentarily, her mind still a jumble of emotions. "I'm thinking that I don't understand why it feels like this," she admitted, her voice soft and vulnerable.

He tightened his arms around her, drawing her even closer to him. "Feels like what, baby?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

"Like I'm completely vulnerable," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Like I'm open and exposed, and...it scares me, Elliot. It scares me how much I want this and how much I want you."

Elliot was quiet for a moment, absorbing her words. "It scares me too," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "Being this vulnerable with each other...it's terrifying. But it's also the most beautiful thing I've ever experienced."

She snuggled closer to him, taking comfort in his warmth and strength. "I don't know how to be this open, Elliot," she admitted, her voice small and scared. "I've never let anyone see me this way before. Have this part of me."

He kissed the top of her head, his hand still stroking her hair. "You don't have to be anything but yourself, baby," he murmured. "I don't want you to pretend or hide from me. I just want you. All of you."

His words were like a soothing balm to her troubled soul, and she felt a little of the tension ease from her body. She let out a long sigh, snuggling closer to him. "I'm not good at this, Elliot," she whispered. "Letting someone see me like this, being vulnerable. I've spent my whole life trying to stay strong, building walls around myself to keep people out."

He pulled back slightly, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, Liv. You can let yourself be vulnerable with me. I promise I won’t hurt you."

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his for reassurance. “I’m scared, Elliot,” she admitted, her voice small and vulnerable. “Loving you this much… getting married… it terrifies me.”

He cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking over her skin. "It scares me too, baby. But it’s a good kind of scared, you know? It’s also exciting and exhilarating. That’s how I feel about marrying you. Excited and terrified but sure all at the same time."

Olivia smiled up at him, some of the fear and vulnerability fading. "I want to marry you so badly, El," she confessed, her voice shaky with emotion. "But I’m so afraid of getting hurt, of losing you. I don’t know what I would do without you."

“You’re not going to lose me, baby," he assured her, his voice firm and confident. "I’m not going anywhere. We’re forever, you and me. And we’re going to build a life together, a future together. And it’s going to be beautiful, baby. I promise."

She buried her face in his neck, her arms wrapping around him tightly. “I love you,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “So much, Elliot. I love you more than I thought it was possible to love someone.”

He held her close, his arms encircling her in a tight embrace. “I love you too, baby," he murmured against her hair. "More than anything in this world. And I promise, I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how loved you are. I’m so damn lucky to have you, Liv."

She lifted her head to look up at him, her eyes sparkling with emotion. “And I feel so damn lucky to have you, Elliot. I never thought I could feel this way about anyone, feel this loved and safe. But you’ve changed everything. You’re my entire world.”

He couldn’t help but smile at her words, his heart feeling like it would burst from his chest. “You’re my entire world, too, baby," he said, his hand coming up to cup her face. “I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you. You’ve changed me, Liv. You’ve made me a better man.”

She reached up to place her hand over his on her cheek, a tear rolling down her cheek as she smiled at him. “You’re already a damn good man, baby," she said, her voice rough with emotion. “You didn’t need me to make you better. You just needed someone to see the good that’s always been there.”

He shook his head, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe," he said, his thumb tracing over her cheek.

Reluctantly he stood and as he did Olivia couldn’t help but admire the way his muscles rippled under his skin. Her eyes traveled up and down his body, lingering on his firm chest and broad shoulders before moving down to his narrow waist and trim hips.

She felt a fluttering in her stomach as her eyes wandered over his body, desire pooling in her core. Her hands reached out to touch him, her fingers tracing over his chest and stomach, feeling the heat of his skin and the firmness of his muscles underneath.

Her touch was light and gentle, almost reverent, as her fingers glided over the planes of his chest and stomach, her touch a worshipful caress. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with hunger and longing.

"You're so damn perfect," she murmured, her voice a low, sultry whisper. "Every part of you. You're like a work of art, a masterpiece."

She let her hands wander lower, her fingers tracing over the muscles of his abdomen and down to his hips. He gasped a little as her touch reached his hardened co*ck, the sound of his pleasure encouraging her even more.

She moved her hands back up to his chest, her touch becoming rougher and more desperate as her desire for him grew. Her fingernails raked over his skin, leaving red lines in their wake, her touch possessive and urgent.

Her lips found his neck as she pressed up against him, her body molding perfectly to his. She nipped at his sensitive skin, her teeth scraping over his pulse point, her tongue soothing the burn that followed.

She felt him shiver as her mouth found a particularly sensitive spot, the sound of his moan making her even bolder. Her hands continued their exploration of his body, sliding down to grip his hips, pulling him closer to her.

Her lips left his neck, trailing a path down his chest. Her tongue tasted and explored his skin, and her breath was hot and needy. She reached his stomach, her mouth finding the ridges of his muscles, her teeth nipping at the hard planes of his abdomen.

He gasped at the feel of her mouth on his skin, his hands coming up to grip her shoulders. "Jesus, baby," he groaned, his voice rough and shaky. "You're killing me here."

She looked up at him, a wicked grin on her face. "Good," she purred, her lips trailing up his chest to his neck, her tongue tracing patterns on his skin. "It’s my turn to play.”

They fell back onto the bed together, their bodies tangling together in a tangle of arms and legs. She was on top of him now, her hair falling in a curtain around them, shielding them from the world outside.

She straddled his hips, her body pressed against his, her hands resting on his chest. She looked down at him, her eyes dark and hungry, her body humming with need.

Her hips began to move, rocking against him, the friction between their bodies causing them both to gasp. Her hands moved to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, leaving red crescents in their wake.

His hips moved against hers, the feel of her body against his sending jolts of pleasure straight to his co*ck. His hands slid up her thighs, his fingers gripping her hips, guiding her movements against him.

She leaned down, her mouth finding his neck again, her tongue skating over the sensitive skin. She could feel his pulse racing beneath her lips, the rapid thump against her tongue a testament to his arousal.

"What do you want, baby?" she murmured against his skin, her voice a low, sultry whisper. "Handcuffs or rope?”

He took a breath, his heart racing as he processed her words. "Handcuffs," he said, his voice roughened by desire.

A wicked grin spread across her face. "Mhm," she moaned, sitting back on her heels. "Stay right there."

She climbed off him and padded over to the wall, her movements slow and deliberate. He watched her as she pulled down a set of handcuffs, his eyes roaming over her body as she did.

She returned to the bed, the handcuffs dangling from her fingers. She demanded, “Stand up.”

He obeyed, standing up in front of her. His eyes were fixed on the handcuffs in her hand, and the anticipation sent a thrill down his spine.

She took his wrists in turn, securing the cuffs around them with practiced ease. She led him to the ceiling suspension and hooked the cuffs above his head.

He was now shackled in place, his arms raised above his head, leaving him completely at her mercy. His breath came in short pants, his body tense and thrumming with anticipation.

She stepped back to take in the sight of him, his body taut and restrained, entirely at her mercy. A wicked smile curved her lips. "You look good like this," she purred, her eyes raking over his body.

He responded with a shaky breath, his body already straining against the cuffs as he hung from the ceiling suspension. His eyes flicked over to her, watching her every move, anticipation and excitement written on his face.

She grabbed a crop from the wall and a vibrator from the drawer. The leather of the crop handle was cool and smooth against her skin as she picked it up. She approached him, her movements slow and deliberate.

She set the vibrator down and then ran the leather crop over Elliot’s chest. The contrast between the rough leather and his firm body made him shiver.

She continued to trail the crop over his skin, down his torso, and over his hips, the touch light and teasing. He strained against the cuffs, his body desperate for more of her touch, the crop a tantalizing tease.

She brought the crop down on his thigh, the leather making a sharp 'slap' as it met his flesh. He gasped at the feel of it, the pain mixing with pleasure in a way that made him moan.

She did it again, this time on his abs, the crop leaving a red mark on his skin. He let out a guttural noise, his body arching towards her, his muscles straining against the cuffs.

She continued to deliver blows, one after another; each one left a bright red mark on his skin, which elicited a moan or gasp from his lips. She watched his face, the combination of pain and pleasure evident in his expressions.

She traced the shape of his mouth with the crop, the leather tip moving softly across his lips. He parted his lips slightly, his tongue darting out to touch the leather. The sensation made him shiver.

She smiled at him, her eyes dark and fiery. "You like that, don't you?" she purred, her voice low and sultry. "You like the way it feels against your skin, the way it teases you."

He nodded, his eyes locked on hers, his body quivering with need. He wanted more, his body craving the combination of pleasure and pain that only she could give him.

She moved the crop down his body again, the leather tracing a path over his chest and stomach. She stopped at his hip, the tip of the crop lingering there, taunting him.

He strained against the cuffs, his hips arching up towards the crop, his body begging for more of her touch. He could feel the heat rising in his body, the tension coiled tight in his stomach.

She teased him with the crop for a few more moments, trailing it over his inner thighs, his balls, and along the length of his co*ck, the leather barely touching his skin. He gasped and moaned, his body straining against the cuffs, every inch of him aching for her.

She moved back in front of him, her face just inches from his. "You want me, don't you?" she murmured, her voice a low, sultry whisper. "You want me to touch you? To give you what you need?"

He nodded, his eyes locked on hers, his body humming with need. "Yes," he gasped. "Please, baby. Please, touch me."

She smiled at his plea, her eyes dark and hungry. "You’re so sexy when you beg," she purred, her hand moving to his cheek, her thumb tracing over his bottom lip.

She leaned in, her mouth capturing his in a fierce kiss. Her teeth sank into his lip, the bite hard and possessive. He gasped into her mouth, his body arching towards her, his tongue seeking hers.

Her body pressed against his, the heat and friction between them making them both moan. She pulled back, her lips still millimeters from his, her breath coming in short pants. "You’re mine," she whispered, her voice rough with need. "All mine."

He nodded, his body trembling as he responded to her claim. "All yours," he affirmed, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Yours and no one else's."

She smiled at his response, her hand moving to his neck, her fingers lightly tracing over his pulse point. She could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath her touch, the rapid thump a testament to his arousal.

She leaned in, her lips finding his neck, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. Her other hand trailed down his chest, her fingers tracing over his muscles, her touch sending jolts of pleasure straight to his co*ck.

Her lips moved down his neck, her tongue tasting and exploring, her mouth leaving a trail of wet kisses on his skin. She felt his body shiver and shudder beneath her touch, the sounds of his pleasure egging her on.

She moved her mouth down his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin, her teeth nipping and biting his nipple. His gasps and moans filled the room, the sound of his pleasure driving her wild.

Her mouth trailed kisses down his stomach, her tongue tasting and exploring the firm planes of his abs. She could feel the tension in his body, the way he was straining against the cuffs, his need for her coiled tight in his gut.

Olivia reached his hip, her hands gripping his flesh as she trailed kisses over the sensitive skin. She felt him shiver at the contact, his breath coming in short pants as he begged for more.

Her mouth moved down his thigh, her tongue trailing wet kisses over his skin. She nipped and bit, her teeth leaving red marks on his flesh, marking him as hers.

He gasped and moaned, his body arching towards her, his need for her growing stronger with each passing moment.

She looked up at him, her eyes locking onto his. She could see the desperation in his gaze, the need for her etched into every feature. "You want me to touch you, don't you?" she purred, her voice a sultry whisper.

He nodded, his eyes pleading, his body taut and trembling. "Please," he gasped, his voice raw and ragged. "Please, baby. I need you to touch me. I need you."

She smiled at his desperation, her fingers tracing a path up his thigh, her touch light and teasing. "Mmm, I love it when you beg," she murmured, her lips hovering just above his skin.

Her tongue darted out to taste his skin, her mouth moving tantalizingly close to his throbbing co*ck, but never quite touching him. He moaned and shuddered at the feel of her breath against him, his body arching towards her, his need for her growing with each passing moment.

She closed the distance, her mouth enveloping him. He moaned loudly, his body arching forward, the feel of her mouth on him almost too much to bear. Her tongue danced over his co*ck, her hands grasping his ass.

She heard his breathing deepen, and his gasps and moans got louder and more desperate. She could feel him straining against the cuffs, his body taut and quivering, the need for release building in him.

She kept up her pace, her mouth working to bring him to the edge and back. He was a mess of moans and gasps, his body shaking with the effort of holding back.

He watched her as she moved her hand down her body, his eyes locked on every movement. She slipped her fingers between her soaking folds tantalizingly slow. Elliot strained against the cuffs, his muscles taut and quivering with need, his body desperate for her touch.

Olivia slipped her fingers from her c*nt to grab the vibrator from beside her, running it through her folds. She moaned as the vibrations stimulated her cl*t, her pleasure building with each movement.

He watched her, his eyes dark and hungry, his body straining against the cuffs. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingers.

She knew he was on the edge, quivering as he watched her. Elliot gasped her name, his body tensing further as she brought him closer and closer to the edge.

Olivia pulled away, her mouth leaving him suddenly. He let out a guttural moan of frustration, his body arching towards her, desperate for more.

She stood, her body glistening with the evidence of her desire. He looked at her, his eyes dark and begging, his body trembling with need.

She brought her fingers to his lips as he opened his mouth slightly. He sucked her fingers into his mouth to taste her. His moans of pleasure filled the room.

Olivia watched him as he tasted her, his tongue dancing over her fingers, his body trembling with need. His eyes were locked on hers, his gaze filled with desire and desperation. He wanted her, needed her, and she could feel the tension coiled tight in his body.

"If I unhook you, are you going to behave?" she asked, her voice a low, sultry whisper.

Elliot nodded, his body quivering with need and desire. "Yes," he gasped, his voice hoarse and ragged. "Yes, baby. I'll be good. Just please, please, let me touch you."

She studied him for a moment, taking in his pleading gaze and the desperate tremors running through his body. She could tell how badly he wanted her, and she couldn’t help but feel a thrill of power at his submission.

She moved closer to him, her fingers tracing over his chest. His skin was warm and fevered beneath her touch. "Good boy," she murmured, her voice sweet and seductive.

He shivered at her words, and the combination of her touch and her praise made him shiver even more. He was at her mercy, his body trembling with need, desperate for her touch and approval.

She reaches up to the handcuffs, slowly undoing them and freeing his wrists. His arms dropped to his sides, his wrists red and chafed from the cuffs.

He flexed his wrists, the blood rushing back into them after being restricted for so long. His eyes were on her, his gaze hungry and intense.

She took his wrists in her hands, gently running her fingers over the redness and chafing. "You okay?" she asked, her voice soft and gentle.

Elliot nodded, his eyes locked on her, his body trembling with need. "Yes, baby. I'm fine… I just need you. I need to touch you."

She stepped closer to him, her body pressing against his, the heat and friction between them driving her wild. His hands come to her hips, his fingers gripping her flesh possessively.

She gasped as his touch ignited a fire within her, her body arching into him, craving more. His lips found her neck, his tongue dancing over the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

She moaned, her head falling back, her body shuddering with pleasure. His hands were everywhere, roaming over her body, exploring and caressing every inch of her flesh.

"Get on the bed," she demanded, her voice a ragged gasp.

He obeyed, stepping back and sitting on the edge of the bed. He was watching her, his body taut and trembling with need.

She sauntered towards him, her body moving with fluid grace as she approached him. Her eyes were dark and hungry, and her gaze roamed over his body, mapping every curve and contour.

She straddled his hips, hovering just above him, her body close enough to feel his heat but not quite touching him. Her eyes were locked onto his, her gaze filled with a mixture of lust and need.

His hands came to her hips, his fingers digging into her skin, desperate to bring her down on his aching co*ck. His eyes were pleading, his body wound tight.

"You want me, don't you, baby?" she asked in a sultry whisper.

Elliot nodded, his hands gripping her hips tighter, his body trembling. "Yes," he gasped. "God, yes. I want you so bad, baby. Please, please, let me f*ck you."

Slowly, ever so slowly, she sank down just enough to envelop the swollen red tip of his co*ck. He gasped as she torturously circled her hips, teasing him.

She could feel him straining beneath her, his body tight and quivering with need. She smiled, her lips hovering just above his. "You like that, baby," she murmured.

His arms wrapped around her waist, his body arching towards her, desperate for more. "Yes," he gasped. "God, yes. It feels so good, baby. More, please."

Olivia grinned at his pleading, her body responding to his need. She sank down a bit further, taking him deeper inside her.

Elliot moaned, his body shuddering beneath her, and his grip on her hips got tighter. "Oh, God," he gasped. "You’re so f*cking tight, baby."

Her c*nt clenched around him, squeezing his co*ck tightly. Her head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment as pleasure coursed through her.

"You like it when I ride you, huh, baby," she murmured, her body moving slowly and steadily up and down on his thick co*ck.

He nodded, his eyes glued to her, his hands roaming over her thighs, her hips, and her waist. "Yes, baby. God, you have no idea."

She began moving faster, the pleasure building between them. She could feel him trembling beneath her, his body tightening as he got closer and closer to the edge.

She leaned down, her mouth close to his ear, her breath hot and ragged in his ear. "You're not allowed to come until I say so," she whispered, her voice a sultry command.

Elliot’s body tensed at her words, his breath catching in his chest. His hands gripped her hips tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh as he struggled to hold back. "God, baby," he gasped. "You're killing me."

She grinned, her body moving faster and faster, her own pleasure building as she felt him getting closer and closer to his release. "Mmm, say my name," she whispered. "Say my name, baby."

"Olivia," he gasped, his voice ragged and strained. "Oh, God, Olivia."

The sound of her name sent a shiver down her spine. "Again," she demanded. "Say it again."

"Olivia," he gasped, his body trembling beneath her. "Oh, God, Olivia, please. Let me come.”

She shook her head, her body keeping up its relentless pace. "Not yet," she murmured. "Hold it back, baby. Hold it for me."

He was gritting his teeth, his body straining with the effort of holding back, his hands gripping her hips so tightly, she knew there would be bruises tomorrow. "I can't," he gasped. "I can't hold on much longer, baby. Please."

She could feel herself getting closer, her body tensing and quivering as she rode him harder, faster. She could feel him shaking beneath her.

"Hold on," she gasped, her body moving urgently now, "Just a little longer, baby. Just a little longer."

He struggled to hold back, his body tense and strained, and his breath came in ragged gasps. "I can't," he gasped. "Baby, I can't hold on much longer. I need to come. Please. Please let me come.”

Her body moved desperately, needing release. "Just a little longer," she gasped. "Just a little…. Oh, God…."

She was on the brink, her body arching and trembling, her head fell back, her eyes closed as she chased her release. "Baby," she gasped. "I'm so close…. so close… just a little more…. Oh, God…"

He struggled beneath her, his body shaking, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "f*ck, Liv," he gasped.

She moaned, her body quivering as the pleasure shot through her. "Yes," she gasped. "Now, baby, now."

He let go with a guttural cry, his body shuddering as he came, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands gripping her hips so tight she knew there would be marks tomorrow. She rode him through it, her body arching and trembling as she prolonged her org*sm.

She fell forward, her body collapsing onto his, her breath coming in ragged gasps. His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, their bodies slick with sweat and desire.

"Jesus," he gasped, his voice ragged and hoarse. "That was… Jesus, baby. I think I almost passed out.”

She laughed softly, her head resting on his shoulder. "I know the feeling," she said, her voice still breathless. "I should take control more often.”

He laughed, his body still trembling slightly. "You can take control any time you want, baby. Goddamn."

She smiled, her fingers tracing over his chest, feeling his heart still racing beneath her touch. "I take it that was okay, then?" she teased.

"Okay?" he gasped, "Baby, that was… Jesus. That was f*cking incredible. I have never seen anything so goddamn sexy.“

She grinned, feeling a rush of satisfaction at his words. "Good," she said, her lips brushing over his neck, leaving a trail of kisses along his skin. "Because I plan on doing it again. And again. And again.”

He moaned, his body responding to her touch. "God, baby, you're going to be the death of me," he gasped.

She laughed, her fingers tracing over his chest, then slowly down his stomach. "I think you'll manage," she teased, her touch turning more intimate.

She gasped as he stood, lifting her up, her legs wrapping around him instinctively.

He held her against him, her body pressed tight against his as he started out of the Red Room. "Where are we going?" she asked, her voice a murmur against his ear.

"Shower," he growled, his mouth moving to her neck, his lips trailing over her sensitive skin. “I’ll be hard again by the time we get there.”

She shivered at his words, her body responding to his touch and his breath, her thighs clenching around him. “I hope so,” she teased, nipping at his earlobe.

He took them into the bathroom, closing the door behind them, as he turned on the water in the shower. The steam slowly began to fill the room, the air becoming thick and sultry.

With her legs wrapped around him, Elliot stepped into the shower and walked them under the hot spray. He pinned her against the cold, wet tiles, her body arching into his as his mouth found hers.

She kissed him back hungrily, her tongue tangling with his, her body responding to his touch. The hot water poured down on them, steam rising around them as their bodies moved together, a tangle of limbs and heat.

He pressed her harder against the cold tiles, his hands roaming over her body, exploring every inch of her. His mouth left hers, moving down her neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

She gasped, her head falling back against the tile, her body arching into his, her fingers digging into the muscles of his back. “God, El,” she gasped, her breath ragged as his mouth moved lower, his tongue tracing over her collarbone and down to her breast.

He took her breast in his mouth, his tongue tracing over her nipple as he sucked and nipped at her skin, his hand going to her hip, holding her in place as he moved against her, his co*ck thrusting into her.

She moaned, her body shuddering against his, her legs tightening around him. Her hands were everywhere, roaming over his body, her fingers tracing over his muscles, her nails digging into his skin. “God, baby, don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice ragged with need.

He will never stop. Not when he could see her like this, her body responding to his every touch, her eyes closed, her mouth open in ecstasy. He took her other breast in his mouth, his tongue swirling over her skin, his hips moving faster against hers, driving them both closer and closer to another release.

Her body was on fire, her whole world narrowing down to nothing but the feel of his body against hers, the sound of the water running over them, and the pleasure building between them. She was close, and she could feel him getting closer, his movements becoming more urgent and desperate.

He’s close, too, his body straining against hers, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he rocks against her, his tongue still moving over her skin, his mouth moving back up to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites in its wake.

She moves her head, her mouth finding his neck, biting and sucking at his skin, her fingers digging into his back. “God, baby, I’m so close,” she gasped, her breath hot against his skin. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…”

He will never stop, not when he knows how close she is, how she's teetering on the edge. He keeps moving against her, his body driving hers, bringing her closer with every movement. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his mouth moving against her neck. So beautiful. Come for me, baby. Let go. I’m right here.”

His words send her over the edge, pushing her over the brink into oblivion. She comes with a cry, her body shaking, her legs tightening around him, her fingernails digging into his muscular back.

He holds her through it, his body still moving against hers, his mouth at her ear. “That’s it, baby,” he whispers, his voice ragged. “That’s it. You’re so beautiful when you come. So beautiful.” She’s still shuddering in his arms as the aftershocks run through her, her body trembling and over-sensitive. He holds her, his body still pressed against hers, his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her close.

“God, baby,” she gasps, her voice shaky, her body still quivering. “That was… God, I’ve never…”

He grins, his mouth moving to her neck again, his lips trailing over her sensitive skin. “I know,” he whispers. “I know. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. So goddamn perfect.”

He started moving inside her again, slowly, his mouth moving to her neck, leaving kisses and tiny bites along her skin.

She gasped, her body still sensitive from all of her org*sms, her legs tightening around his hips as he moved again, his co*ck thrusting into her. “God, baby,” she gasped, her fingers digging into his skin once more.

“I love how sensitive you are after you come,” he whispered, his mouth moving to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “How responsive you are to my touch. How I can feel your body responding to me, even when you’re still shaking from your org*sm.”

“Jesus,” she gasped, her body shuddering at his words, his voice like a caress against her skin. “I’m… so sensitive right now. Your voice… your touch… it’s almost too much.”

“But you like it too much to ask me to stop,” he teased, his voice a low growl in her ear. His body was still moving against hers, his hands trailing over her skin, and he felt her shiver under his touch.

“God, no. I don’t want you to stop,” she gasped, her voice ragged with need. “I want more. I need more. Please, baby.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice a low, possessive growl. “You want more, baby?”

“Yes,” she gasped, her body arching against his, her hands on his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. “Harder, baby.“

“Anything you want, baby,” he growled, his hands gripping her hips tighter, his hips moving faster against her, harder, deeper.

“Yes, yes,” she gasped, her body writhing against his, her legs tightened around his hips, pulling him deeper. “God, yes, just like that. Just like that.“

He kept pounding into her, his body relentless, his mouth on her neck, biting and sucking at her skin, his hands holding her securely in place as he drove into her. "You like that, baby?" he growled. "You like the way I feel inside you?"

“God, yes,” she gasped, her head falling back, her body arching into his. “I love it. Love the way you feel. Love the way you f*ck me.”

He grinned, his eyes meeting hers as he kept moving against her, his body picking up speed, his breath ragged as he spoke. "You drive me insane. You make me want you all the time, baby. I can't get enough of you."

“I never want you to stop. Never. God, baby, I love you,” she gasped, her body trembling.

"I love you too," he grunted, his body moving faster, harder, his hands holding her tight. "I love you so much, baby. So goddamn much."

She could feel the pressure building again, her body nearing the edge once more, her body shaking and trembling against his. “God, baby, I’m close,” she gasped.

“I know,” he panted, his grip on her hips tightening as he kept f*cking her against the shower wall. “I can feel you, baby. I can feel you shaking. I can feel your puss* so tight around my co*ck.”

She gasped, her body trembling with need, her legs clenching around him as she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders. “El, I’m so close. So close. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. God, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t,” he grunted, his body moving harder, faster, driving into her. “I’m not stopping until you come again, baby.

And she did. She came hard, her body shuddering against his, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her legs clenching around him, her body shaking with the force of her org*sm. She called out his name, her voice a desperate cry that echoed off the walls.

He followed her over the edge, his body shaking with his release, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he held her tight against him, his body shuddering with pleasure. He buried his face in her neck, his mouth at her ear, his voice ragged as he spoke. "God, Liv, I love you. I love you so much. Thank God you’re marrying me.”

She gasped, her body still shaking, her legs still tightly wrapped around him. “I love you too. So much. I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“Me too, baby,” he whispered, his hands still gripping her hips, his body still pressed against hers. “I can’t wait to watch you walk down the aisle towards me. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”

“You think about that a lot, don’t you?” she asked, her voice soft, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure.

“Every damn day,” he grinned, his voice rough with emotion. “I can’t wait to start our lives together. To be your husband, to be the only man who gets to hold you like this.”

She smiled, her hands moving to his face, her fingers tracing over his features. “I can’t wait either. To be your wife, to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“We’re going to be so happy, baby,” he whispered, his fingers tracing over her skin, his touch gentle and reverent. “I promise you that. I’m going to make you the happiest woman in the world.”

“I believe you,” she whispered, her eyes locked with his, her heart full of love. “You already make me happier than I ever thought possible.”