fanfic | svu | eo | fingerprints
Fingerprints
EO SVU story
rating: Mature/NC-17
for Ellie
“El, El!” Olivia’s voice brings him out of his reverie.
“What?”
“You’re drooling.”
Shit! It’s so embarrassing how much he wants her.
Fingerprints
EO SVU story
rating: Mature/NC-17
for Ellie
He felt his mouth open wide before he remembered to stifle his yawn. They were on a stakeout, and nothing had happened in hours.
“Bored, partner?” Olivia teased.
“Wouldn’t be if I thought the suspect sent us on more than a wild goose chase.”
“Sometimes the most unlikely turn leads us in the right direction.”
“Is that what your fortune cookie said?”
“Oooh, someone’s testy tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Liv, I didn’t mean … I’m just …” he tried to explain.
The truth was that he was sure they were on a wild goose chase. Which meant that he had nothing else to concentrate on but the low-cut shirt his partner was wearing, while they spend the entire night in the squad car.
She was his partner. She was his best friend. She was the most important woman in his life. He would give up his life for hers. He loved her. There was no doubt about any of that. In his mind. Or hers. He knew that.
But he wondered if she knew … if she recognized all the other emotions that she made him feel. If she only knew the dirty thoughts that came to his mind whenever she wore anything remotely sexy. What would she think of his recurring fantasy of spending hours in her bedroom, making love to her? Or his fantasies of taking her against the wall … licking honey off her on the kitchen counter … running his fingers through her hair … enjoying a quickie blow job in the locker room … caressing her breasts … giving her a sponge bath … being straddled by her in the squad car during a stakeout on a night exactly like this.
“El, El!” Olivia’s voice brought him out of his reverie.
“What?”
“You’re drooling.”
Shit! It’s so embarrassing how much he wants her.
He wants to wipe the drool off, but she is quicker.
Her thumb brushes over the corner of his mouth. Her touch feels slow and sensual, and he wonders if she could possibly feel the same way that he does. She has never given him any such indication, but perhaps the same is true for him. They have always valued their friendship and partnership above all else. Besides, he had been married for most of their time together.
But now, as he watches her breasts strain against her tight shirt, her chest moves up and down as she breathes faster, and he knows that his desire for her was part of the reason his marriage couldn’t work out.
His eyes look up to meet hers.
It’s her. His best friend. His partner. The one who always has his back. It’s Olivia. His Olivia.
But there’s an intensity in her eyes ... the way she’s looking at him ... it’s sexual … and she understands the way he’s looking at her … she has to be, or she wouldn’t be looking at him the same way, because neither of them would ever allow an unrequited attraction to show. So the fact that she is looking at him like she wants to devour him means that he’s looking at her the same way. It feels like he’s been waiting 12 years to devour her. To be hers, and to make her his.
Words are unnecessary. They know everything there is to know about each other. The only thing missing has been consent. Now, it’s in her eyes. And in his. So, words are unnecessary.
She straddles him, just like in his fantasy, and he’s too consumed with desire to wonder whether it’s fantasy or reality.
Her mouth crashes into his, and a decade of pent-up tension is unleashed, their tongues playing, roaming, and exploring with urgency
His hands pull her top out of her pants and slide up her smooth back.
He wants to caress every plane; he wants to trace every curve; he wants to rub every tender part; he wants to cover her in his fingerprints; he wants to leave no square inch untouched. He craves her entire being.
She unfastens the buttons on his shirt, and her fingertips glide across his chest. Her touch makes the bulge in his pants ache, and he fears he won’t last very long tonight. But he’s been waiting for this for so long. Too long. It needs to be right. And she needs to be as hot and horny as he is.
He unfastens her bra, and his fingers deftly caress her full breasts.
Pulling her top up, her breasts are free, and he captures one nipple with his lips. She lets out a low, guttural moan, and it sends him wild.
His tongue plays with her breast, but his fingers frantically tug at her belt buckle, and she does the same with his.
She must unstraddle him to get her pants off.
Instead, she pulls herself upright, on her knees, her navel at the height of his mouth. His face leans into her torso, inhaling her sweet scent. His Liv.
She removes her bra and top. Her fingers roam his scalp, down his neck to his upper back. Her touch is sensual, and only serves to excite him more.
His hands push down her pants to reveal a pair of boxers-navy blue with a touch of lace. Not that he would have expected anything more. Or less. She is the only woman he thinks of as practical and sexy at the same time
His hands roam up her thighs, as he lets his tongue trace her navel. He wants to be inside of her like crazy right now, but he also wants her everything.
She gives no indication that he should stop, so his hands move upward, massaging her ass … she has a great piece of ass. Teasing, he traces the hem of her boxers.
This woman is everything he never knew he could have.
Unstraddling him, she moves back to her seat and slides off her pants.
This is a sign. That she wants this to be good. They could have managed somehow with her pants half pulled down, and with his just open, but it would have been uncomfortable. He knows he doesn’t need much to come, and every delay makes him ache more, but this sign is good. She wants it to be good. She wants it to be better than some 1-minute fuck. He wants it to be good too. For her.
With her on the other seat, there’s a moment. A moment of sheer silence. A moment when they can still take it all back. A moment that will deny tomorrow’s regrets. A moment to decide yes or no.
His eyes catch hers again, and her desire is still there, and he wants her like he hasn’t wanted anyone, ever, he believes.
She reaches for his pants, unsnaps, and then carefully unzips. Her hand slides into his strained underwear, caressing him, and he lets out mixed moans of pleasure and pain. Elliot closes his eyes, willing himself to last just a bit longer.
She appears to understand because her hands slow down, as she lets him emerge, hard and throbbing.
She lifts herself upright again, about to remove her boxers. But it’s something that he wants to do. Something he’s fantasized about doing for a decade.
He fingers the hem of the garment once again, teasing, and then he slides his hand between her legs and brushes against her center. She groans, and he can feel the heat radiating from inside her, the boxers damp with excitement. For him.
He notices her smiling at him, and it all feels so natural. Even if it is the first time.
He is in awe of her. Of them together.
Pulling the lacy boxers down, she is revealed, glistening and ready for him. Just like his throbbing shaft is ready for her.
He pushes his own pants down to his knees, and she straddles him again. But now it’s her skin against his skin, and it feels like it was always meant to be like this.
Their mouths fuse together again, as her body inches forward and hesitates above his waiting cock.
There is no talk of protection. No need for protection. He trusts she would mention it if she had been unprotected with others. She expects the same from him. But that is not the case. Not with the kind of life that they lead. As for pregnancy …
He stops. He has to ask. He couldn’t live with himself if he got her pregnant, and she didn’t want it.
Pulling away gently, he rests his forehead on hers.
“Liv … pregnancy?”
Lightly, she shakes her head, gives him a small smile, and presses her lips to his again.
Then her slick walls encircle him, and he is inside her heaven.
He knows he is close, so his fingertips find her nipples, twirling and squeezing, while her tongue slips into his mouth, wanting to dominate. She moans into his mouth, and he wants to just flip her over onto a bed and fuck her senseless.
Instead, he focuses on enjoying the rhythm her hips create.
She also knows that he won’t last long, because she slips one hand between their bodies and her moans become louder and more frequent. He lets his own moans goad her own, holding on … holding on until she’s ready.
Her movements become more frantic, she gasps for air, he whispers in her ear that he’s coming, that he has to, she yells back, “wait, wait,” he tries, he tries, he tries, he whispers “I’m sorry”, and he shoots his seed inside of her, as she rocks her hips faster and faster. He is loving it ... loving to watch her ride him ... loving her speed and persistence ... loving to watch her face contort, as she finally reaches her own peak
Crumpled, she falls into him. His open arms catch her, and he embraces her gently, never wishing to let go of her. His hands and arms cover her naked back, and it feels like he’s protecting her. There’s no other job he would rather do.
She belongs in his arms.
He belongs inside of her.
Would love to hear your thoughts on this, so please leave a comment below. Thanks. :)
EO SVU story
rating: Mature/NC-17
for Ellie
“El, El!” Olivia’s voice brings him out of his reverie.
“What?”
“You’re drooling.”
Shit! It’s so embarrassing how much he wants her.
Fingerprints
EO SVU story
rating: Mature/NC-17
for Ellie
He felt his mouth open wide before he remembered to stifle his yawn. They were on a stakeout, and nothing had happened in hours.
“Bored, partner?” Olivia teased.
“Wouldn’t be if I thought the suspect sent us on more than a wild goose chase.”
“Sometimes the most unlikely turn leads us in the right direction.”
“Is that what your fortune cookie said?”
“Oooh, someone’s testy tonight.”
“I’m sorry, Liv, I didn’t mean … I’m just …” he tried to explain.
The truth was that he was sure they were on a wild goose chase. Which meant that he had nothing else to concentrate on but the low-cut shirt his partner was wearing, while they spend the entire night in the squad car.
She was his partner. She was his best friend. She was the most important woman in his life. He would give up his life for hers. He loved her. There was no doubt about any of that. In his mind. Or hers. He knew that.
But he wondered if she knew … if she recognized all the other emotions that she made him feel. If she only knew the dirty thoughts that came to his mind whenever she wore anything remotely sexy. What would she think of his recurring fantasy of spending hours in her bedroom, making love to her? Or his fantasies of taking her against the wall … licking honey off her on the kitchen counter … running his fingers through her hair … enjoying a quickie blow job in the locker room … caressing her breasts … giving her a sponge bath … being straddled by her in the squad car during a stakeout on a night exactly like this.
“El, El!” Olivia’s voice brought him out of his reverie.
“What?”
“You’re drooling.”
Shit! It’s so embarrassing how much he wants her.
He wants to wipe the drool off, but she is quicker.
Her thumb brushes over the corner of his mouth. Her touch feels slow and sensual, and he wonders if she could possibly feel the same way that he does. She has never given him any such indication, but perhaps the same is true for him. They have always valued their friendship and partnership above all else. Besides, he had been married for most of their time together.
But now, as he watches her breasts strain against her tight shirt, her chest moves up and down as she breathes faster, and he knows that his desire for her was part of the reason his marriage couldn’t work out.
His eyes look up to meet hers.
It’s her. His best friend. His partner. The one who always has his back. It’s Olivia. His Olivia.
But there’s an intensity in her eyes ... the way she’s looking at him ... it’s sexual … and she understands the way he’s looking at her … she has to be, or she wouldn’t be looking at him the same way, because neither of them would ever allow an unrequited attraction to show. So the fact that she is looking at him like she wants to devour him means that he’s looking at her the same way. It feels like he’s been waiting 12 years to devour her. To be hers, and to make her his.
Words are unnecessary. They know everything there is to know about each other. The only thing missing has been consent. Now, it’s in her eyes. And in his. So, words are unnecessary.
She straddles him, just like in his fantasy, and he’s too consumed with desire to wonder whether it’s fantasy or reality.
Her mouth crashes into his, and a decade of pent-up tension is unleashed, their tongues playing, roaming, and exploring with urgency
His hands pull her top out of her pants and slide up her smooth back.
He wants to caress every plane; he wants to trace every curve; he wants to rub every tender part; he wants to cover her in his fingerprints; he wants to leave no square inch untouched. He craves her entire being.
She unfastens the buttons on his shirt, and her fingertips glide across his chest. Her touch makes the bulge in his pants ache, and he fears he won’t last very long tonight. But he’s been waiting for this for so long. Too long. It needs to be right. And she needs to be as hot and horny as he is.
He unfastens her bra, and his fingers deftly caress her full breasts.
Pulling her top up, her breasts are free, and he captures one nipple with his lips. She lets out a low, guttural moan, and it sends him wild.
His tongue plays with her breast, but his fingers frantically tug at her belt buckle, and she does the same with his.
She must unstraddle him to get her pants off.
Instead, she pulls herself upright, on her knees, her navel at the height of his mouth. His face leans into her torso, inhaling her sweet scent. His Liv.
She removes her bra and top. Her fingers roam his scalp, down his neck to his upper back. Her touch is sensual, and only serves to excite him more.
His hands push down her pants to reveal a pair of boxers-navy blue with a touch of lace. Not that he would have expected anything more. Or less. She is the only woman he thinks of as practical and sexy at the same time
His hands roam up her thighs, as he lets his tongue trace her navel. He wants to be inside of her like crazy right now, but he also wants her everything.
She gives no indication that he should stop, so his hands move upward, massaging her ass … she has a great piece of ass. Teasing, he traces the hem of her boxers.
This woman is everything he never knew he could have.
Unstraddling him, she moves back to her seat and slides off her pants.
This is a sign. That she wants this to be good. They could have managed somehow with her pants half pulled down, and with his just open, but it would have been uncomfortable. He knows he doesn’t need much to come, and every delay makes him ache more, but this sign is good. She wants it to be good. She wants it to be better than some 1-minute fuck. He wants it to be good too. For her.
With her on the other seat, there’s a moment. A moment of sheer silence. A moment when they can still take it all back. A moment that will deny tomorrow’s regrets. A moment to decide yes or no.
His eyes catch hers again, and her desire is still there, and he wants her like he hasn’t wanted anyone, ever, he believes.
She reaches for his pants, unsnaps, and then carefully unzips. Her hand slides into his strained underwear, caressing him, and he lets out mixed moans of pleasure and pain. Elliot closes his eyes, willing himself to last just a bit longer.
She appears to understand because her hands slow down, as she lets him emerge, hard and throbbing.
She lifts herself upright again, about to remove her boxers. But it’s something that he wants to do. Something he’s fantasized about doing for a decade.
He fingers the hem of the garment once again, teasing, and then he slides his hand between her legs and brushes against her center. She groans, and he can feel the heat radiating from inside her, the boxers damp with excitement. For him.
He notices her smiling at him, and it all feels so natural. Even if it is the first time.
He is in awe of her. Of them together.
Pulling the lacy boxers down, she is revealed, glistening and ready for him. Just like his throbbing shaft is ready for her.
He pushes his own pants down to his knees, and she straddles him again. But now it’s her skin against his skin, and it feels like it was always meant to be like this.
Their mouths fuse together again, as her body inches forward and hesitates above his waiting cock.
There is no talk of protection. No need for protection. He trusts she would mention it if she had been unprotected with others. She expects the same from him. But that is not the case. Not with the kind of life that they lead. As for pregnancy …
He stops. He has to ask. He couldn’t live with himself if he got her pregnant, and she didn’t want it.
Pulling away gently, he rests his forehead on hers.
“Liv … pregnancy?”
Lightly, she shakes her head, gives him a small smile, and presses her lips to his again.
Then her slick walls encircle him, and he is inside her heaven.
He knows he is close, so his fingertips find her nipples, twirling and squeezing, while her tongue slips into his mouth, wanting to dominate. She moans into his mouth, and he wants to just flip her over onto a bed and fuck her senseless.
Instead, he focuses on enjoying the rhythm her hips create.
She also knows that he won’t last long, because she slips one hand between their bodies and her moans become louder and more frequent. He lets his own moans goad her own, holding on … holding on until she’s ready.
Her movements become more frantic, she gasps for air, he whispers in her ear that he’s coming, that he has to, she yells back, “wait, wait,” he tries, he tries, he tries, he whispers “I’m sorry”, and he shoots his seed inside of her, as she rocks her hips faster and faster. He is loving it ... loving to watch her ride him ... loving her speed and persistence ... loving to watch her face contort, as she finally reaches her own peak
Crumpled, she falls into him. His open arms catch her, and he embraces her gently, never wishing to let go of her. His hands and arms cover her naked back, and it feels like he’s protecting her. There’s no other job he would rather do.
She belongs in his arms.
He belongs inside of her.
Would love to hear your thoughts on this, so please leave a comment below. Thanks. :)