DISCLAIMER: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit and its characters are the property of NBC and Dick Wolf.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Black and White
By Lexus Grey


Let it never be said that I always get what I want. There have been plenty of times in my life that just don't fit that bill. Now I'll be the first to admit that I usually get my way - I can be a very persuasive person - but again, plenty of situations haven't turned out how I would have liked. Like today. I'm huddled under a Goddamn raincoat, soaked to the bone anyway, unable to get a cigarette lit. Why? Because I didn't get my way. Cap's got a stick up his ass, and handed me this stakeout. Said I'm the only one that can handle it. 'Watch the restaurant, Benson,' he'd barked out around a fat Cuban cigar, smoke curling in the air over his desk and wafting right under my nose. Just the memory of the smell made me salivate. What I wouldn't give to be able to afford a good Cuban. I'd settle for being able to light my Camel, but the whipping wind and rain snuffed out the flame from my Zippo every time. I hate New York in the winter.

My attention was drawn to movement at the restaurant across the deserted street. My targets were easy to spot - they were the only people out, save for myself, but I garnered no attention, as I was hidden from sight behind a rickety wooden fence. All right girl, get ready... you're on your own.

I never get backup because Cap knows I don't need any. He appreciates me for the badass cop that I am, even if the brass doesn't think a woman should be anywhere out of the kitchen. And besides, he likes the way I get things done. If I had some green Joe Blow tagging along, insisting we do everything by the book, then the crime rate in this Godforsaken city would be twice what it is. Cap knows this. I know this. We understand each other. 'Do what it takes to get what we need, and don't let anyone see you do it.' Don't ask, don't tell. And that's the way I like it.

I pulled my gun and cocked the hammer, spitting my soggy, limp, unlit cigarette into my hand and tucking it deep inside my pocket. Never leave anything behind - rule number one about being a ghost. And sometimes I have to be a ghost. Like right then. I had to take out both mobsters from across the street, behind a fence, in the worst, blinding downpour of the season... but I wasn't worried. My marksmanship makes even the most masculine of the good ol' boys bow down to me. I can shoot a flea off a cat's ear from 100 yards off. I should be able to, I've been shooting a gun since before I could walk.

I made sure the silencer was in place and I had two rounds in a row ready to go, then I took aim and cleanly executed the take-down, assassin-style. You might ask why I don't sound sorry. Why I almost sound proud. And if ya did, I'd tell you: it's none of your fuckin business. I do what I've gotta do to stay ahead. And to keep the streets safe. Are you really gonna cry over some two-bit gangsters that raped a teenager and got away with it? I didn't think so.

I sheathed my weapon and turned, walking slowly toward my cruiser. No need to rush, except to get out of this rain. The wind was herding droplets of water and pelting them mercilessly against my face and body. I usually like the rain, it helps drown out the smell of exhaust that covers the city like a blanket of death. But tonight it was dark, depressing, almost sinister in its deception. It could masquerade as harmless sheets of water, but I knew that while it washed away the stench of pollution, it also brought with it a plague of melancholy that would settle over me and remain until the seasons changed. The rain was different tonight.

I was right. As usual. An overwhelming depression hung on to me all through the winter - no matter what I did to shake it. I don't know how many women I fucked or perps I knocked around during those three long, cold months; I only know that none of it made me feel any better. I wasn't any closer to 'inner peace', or whatever you want to call it, the city was no safer with the perps off the street - as soon as Alex put 'em away, ten more crawled out of the woodwork to take their places. Like a hydra. You cut off its head, it grows two more. A beast that can never be put to sleep. Just like the city.

And Alex. There's another can of worms. Opened that one up the first time I saw her, all dolled up for her new position as Assistant District Attorney for my unit. It was rare to have a woman in the courthouse, and rarer still to have a woman like that in the courthouse. Old power, old money, old world charm... but definitely new blood. And colder than ice. I thought maybe we'd buddy up, being the only two women in the 1-6, but Alex made it clear right away that I was mistaken. The way she looked at me the first time we met still sends chills up my spine - it was like she could see inside me, and was scared of what she saw. Like a psychic who'd just had a catastrophic vision, but couldn't prevent the catastrophe.

The worst part of it was that I was instantly intrigued, but trying to get close was as fruitful as hammering a brick wall with a cotton swab. Until about a year ago. Cap doesn't usually let anyone watch me in an interrogation room, for obvious reasons, but somehow Alex managed to find her way behind the one-way mirror, and she watched me beat the tar out of an uncooperative prick. And get a confession, which sealed the case. I didn't know she'd been watching, but after that day, her attitude changed drastically. She started saying hello to me when we crossed paths, she stopped delivering all of the search warrants directly to the Captain, and she even went out for drinks with us once or twice. At first, I was confused, but then one night about a month later, she came into the squad room when I was working late.

I felt eyes on me and looked up to see her standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame with her arms crossed over her chest. "What?" I asked gruffly. It had been a long day, and I was tired. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

She pushed off the doorframe and walked over to my desk with quick, precise steps. I don't know how the hell she managed to walk in those heels, but she sure looked sexy doin' it. She sat on the edge of my desk and I raised a brow, looking up at her in silent question.

"I watched you work with Pellini," she said smoothly, the contralto tones creeping into my belly and twisting it without warning. "I was impressed."

I thought carefully over how to respond to that. There wasn't a question, nor did there seem to be any disapproval lacing her words. I remember wondering how she managed to get a peek, but I didn't mention it. Instead I leaned back in my chair, putting my boots up on the desk, crossing my ankles and pulling a cigarette from my pack. "I would say I'm flattered, but I ain't lookin to impress anyone, least of all you, Alex." Mmm... her name rolling off my tongue sounded so sexy. Especially the way I over-enunciated the first syllable.

She grinned, you know the type of grin I mean, and I got the feeling she'd expected that sort of answer from me. What can I say? She's a smart woman.

"You didn't come down here just to lay it on thick," I said, eyeing her briefly before I put my feet back on the floor and opened my top desk drawer. I popped the cigarette into my mouth and before I could grab my Zippo from the open drawer, Alex snatched it and sparked the flint, lighting my Camel for me. I puffed a few times until I got a good ember glowing, then exhaled through my nose, lifting an eyebrow up at the swanky lady sitting on my desk.

"No, I didn't," she conceded, tossing the lighter back into my drawer, then giving me an unreadable smile as she got up and left, leaving me to wonder how I'd managed to lose control of that situation so quickly. And fuck, that made me want to know why she came down more than anything. Damn if she didn't get me going in all the right ways. And damn if I was going to let her know that.

I was snapped out of my thoughts by a knock on my desk, and looked up to see Cap staring at me with an urgent aire. "Benson," he said quickly. "You just caught a case."

"Lay it on me." I was already on my feet, slinging my leather jacket on and heading for the doors. Cap followed me, filling me in on the specifics.

"Rape-homicide at the Chancellor Hotel."

I nodded, slipping out the doors in silence, heading for my cruiser. I already knew what kind of a day I was going to have.

The wind wreaked havoc on my shoulder-length hair as I fought against the grain on the way from my car into the hotel. But at least it wasn't raining. It was April now, so the wind would go soon. I could wait. Hell, I'm good at waiting. Perfect, even. Had plenty of chances to practice over the years. But what exactly am I waiting for when it comes to Alex? I don't have a fucking clue. And that pisses me off.

I pushed the doors open and stepped into the Chancellor's lobby, flashing my badge at the desk clerk. "Olivia Benson, SVU. I'm here for the rape-homicide."

A couple at the desk, in the middle of their check-in process I assume, looked at me with wide eyes, then stammered some excuse or another to the clerk and quickly left. I snickered.

The clerk didn't think it was so funny. "I would thank you to be more discrete," he snapped, looking me up and down with an unsavory leer, then glanced behind me as if looking for something. "Where are the real detectives?"

Before he had a chance to comprehend the gravity of his mistake, I had grabbed him by the collar and hoisted him clear over the counter, tossing him flat on his back at my feet. I stepped on his neck, holding him in place as I raised a brow down at him. "What did you say?"

He dry-heaved, groaning in pain, writhing beneath my boot. I thought he looked like a slimy little sea serpent. "I said... room 212... go on up..." he choked out.

"That's what I thought you said..." I grinned, lifting my boot from his throat and brushing my hands off on my pants as I left him there, heading for my destination.

The hotel was a nice one - chandeliers instead of standard lightbulbs, plush carpet instead of that hard crap most outfits use to save money. I think I even saw a Picasso on one of the walls. Not cheap, huh? I wondered why a piece of jumbled artwork could go for so much, but my focus quickly shifted when I reached room 212. My stomach lurched. It always does. No matter how many crime scenes I walk onto, I fight nausea every time.

God, there was so much blood. I was careful not to step in any as I made my way through the foyer, the main room, and into the bedroom where I knew I'd find a body. I was wholly unprepared for the carnage that lay in wait, and I barely made it to the adjoining bathroom before I threw up into the sink. It was an absolute nightmare. I'll spare you the details. I'll tell you this, though. When I find the bastard who did it, he'll really wish I didn't.

Well, I found him. That night, actually. Attempting to repeat his offense. The desk clerk, useless as he was, noticed something funny about a repeat customer. Usually a person didn't rent a room twice in one day. He called me right away, and I made tracks to get there. I kicked down the door and found him with a young woman bound to the hotel room bed, trying to scream through her gag. I snapped the asshole's neck, and before his body even hit the floor I was at the bed, untying the terrified girl and scooping her up into my arms. I quickly removed the tear-stained bandanna from her mouth and rushed her downstairs to where a bus was waiting. I sat her on one of the benches and rode with her to the hospital.

When she was finally calm enough to speak, she turned to me and threw her arms around me, starting to cry all over again. She thanked me repeatedly - I'd gotten there in time. He hadn't done anything to her yet. I felt pretty damn good about that, and I hugged her back, assuring her that she was very welcome, and that if she ever needed anything at all, I was just a phone call away.

I tend to do that... I over-exert myself being there for the victims of the heinous crimes I investigate. But it's the way I am, and I wouldn't change it for anything. It gives me a sense of empowerment, and it gives me an excuse not to really look at myself and the fact that I don't exist outside of my job. I am the job, and it's just as well, because I'm the best at what I do. I know it and I'm not gonna jerk any chains pretending that I don't.

When I got back to the precinct, it was deserted. All lights off, nobody home, which made sense since it was close to midnight. The moon hung low in the sky tonight, illuminating things with a surreal intensity, telling me that winter really was over. It never got this type of warm glow in the winter.

Now, there's a courtyard in the back of the 1-6, with a swimming pool, which belongs to the convalescent home behind us. It's fenced in, but not locked down, so we can use it if we get the urge. I really don't swim, there's just something about crawling into a bikini that doesn't appeal to me, but on occasion I'll sit on the edge of the pool and smoke a cigarette while I put my feet in the water. Tonight was going to be one of those nights.

As I wandered around back and headed for the courtyard, I heard a noise next to one of the bushes beyond the fence. I instinctively drew my weapon, knowing that the senior citizens wouldn't be out this late. I edged slowly forward, keeping a keen eye (and ear) out for any more movement or noise. What happened next was something I still can't wrap my mind around. I ended up with my service weapon pointed straight at Alex Cabot, who was seated on a pool chair smoking a fucking joint.

"Jesus, Olivia!" she jumped, then exhaled slowly. "You scared the shit out of me!"

I stood with my jaw slack, staring at her for several long moments before I snapped it shut and tucked my gun away. "What is that?" I finally asked.

"You don't smoke? Come on," Alex goaded, leaning forward in her chair as she waved the aromatic joint under my nose.

"It's against the law," I said firmly, my expression betraying nothing.

She scoffed, making a dismissive motion with her free hand. "And working over suspects isn't?"

I grinned, squatting down in front of her and resting my elbows on my knees. "There's a difference."

"There's no difference. The law is the law," she quoted arrogantly, taking another long puff of her mary jane and holding it in while she eyed me suspiciously.

"Oh, there's a difference," I insisted, my grin curling up into a malicious smirk. "You see, Alex, the difference is that I don't care who finds out about my transgressions."

I watched her eyes panic, and what was meant to be a smooth exhale turned into a choking fit, smoke billowing out of her mouth and nose in short spurts of air. "You're not serious," she croaked in between bouts of coughing.

"I'm dead serious, Alex," I said, rising to my full height and staring down at her with a predatory gleam in my eyes. I reached out and took the joint from her, bringing it to my lips and making quite a show of inhaling a deep drag.

She watched me carefully, and as I blew smoke rings into the air, she asked me the question I wanted to hear. "What do you want?" Her voice sounded defeated - something I hadn't expected to hear from her without a fight.

"You know what I want, Alex," I said, slowly placing one knee on her chair, then the other, so I was straddling her lap. My right hand found its way into her lush blonde hair and squeezed, while my left once again brought the joint to my mouth. Her eyes closed, her lips parting in surprised surrender, and I leaned my head down, our faces less than an inch apart, and blew a stream of smoke into her open mouth.

She moaned softly, taking the shotgun hit with practiced ease, and when she exhaled she let her eyelids flutter open, and those baby blues pinned me like a vice. "You want sex?" she asked, and I noticed the slightly husky quality to her voice. It was probably just the weed.

"Yes," I said, tossing the roach over my shoulder and grinning at the hiss it made when it landed in the pool. "Are you gonna give it to me?"

She studied me for a moment, then swallowed hard and licked her lips. "Do I have a choice?"

I squeezed her hair a little bit and watched her try to fight how good it felt. "No." I squeezed harder, and she whimpered.

"And it doesn't bother you that I might not want to?"

"You're not fooling anybody with your high society smokescreen, I know you like it rough," I countered, grinding my hips down against her thighs. The friction was making me dizzy.

"That doesn't mean I want it with you," she argued, gasping as I ground against her again.

"Do you?" I asked, curling both hands in her hair now, making her look at me.

She was silent for several seconds, almost as if she were daring me to rush her answer, and then the faintest smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth. "No."


"You'll never know, will you?"

She was taunting me. I almost rose to the bait, but I snatched control back as I got to my feet and threw a mock disappointed look over my shoulder at her as I walked away. "I guess I won't," I conceded, pushing open the gate and stepping just outside. "I hope you're not too attached to your freedom, because I'd hate to see you struggle when I strip it away."

"Olivia!" she called, and by the time I turned around, she had closed the distance between us and I felt the uncomfortable rungs of the cyclone fence flush against my back as she shoved me hard into it and kissed me like a hungry animal. When she pulled back, my knees were weak and shaky, and she ran the tip of her tongue around her lips before pressing her whole body against me. "I wondered when you'd get up the nerve to make a move," she hissed, grabbing my earlobe between her teeth. "Too bad you had to have leverage first, you big baby..."

I groaned, pulling my ear away from the sweet nibbling, and gave her a hard shove backwards. She stumbled but didn't fall, and I advanced on her, my eyes smoldering with something nameless. "Now I just don't want it anymore," I growled, getting very close, tempted to slap her. I didn't like being called on my shit, and she should damn well know that by now. I spun on my heels and walked away, fuming in silence. From the look on her face before I turned, I'd say she hadn't expected me to do that.

"Wait," she called, and I heard her heels clicking as she jogged to catch up with me. "I'm sorry... I wasn't serious."

I kept walking. Fuckin blonde ADAs.

"I want you."

I almost stopped. Almost.

She kept up with me, and I could feel her fumbling for something else to say that would make me stop walking. "Even if you turn me in, I want you," she said earnestly. "I'll let you fuck me anyway... and if you put me in jail I'll ask the Captain for a non-marital conjugal visit."

I stopped. And chuckled. And turned to look at her. "You've wanted me since that night in the squad room, but you were gonna make me believe you don't. Gonna make me blackmail you into sex that you're dyin' to have. Gonna make me think I'm not good enough for Alexandra Cabot. Weren't you?"

"Yes," she said coyly. "Yes, and yes. Guilty as charged. Can we go to your place?"

The cab ride was spent all over each other, moaning and groaning but hands staying over top of clothes. I tipped the cabbie extra for his gracious refusal to stare in the rearview the entire time. When we got up to my bedroom, Alex started undressing, and I watched, transfixed. I wanted something, now that I had her here, and if I didn't bring it up now, I never would. And I was not nervous, fuck you.

"Alex?" I asked, my stomach quivering though my voice remained steady.

"What?" she asked, slipping her suit jacket off over her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

Stay calm, don't panic, don't sound embarrassed or she'll exploit it. "Remember those magazines we caught Fin looking at a while back?" Good. I still sounded in control.

Alex froze, her blouse halfway off, fingers poised to undo the last button, and stared at me with wide eyes. "Fuck no, I'm not letting you tie me up, I don't trust you enough," she said bluntly.

"I know," I said, letting the rest of the request hang in the silence between us. I was impressed with myself for keeping my voice strong, even cocky, while I was dying of embarrassment on the inside. I hoped to God I wasn't blushing. I wouldn't have even brought it up, I really don't have the guts to ask for that sort of thing, but I did have something to use against her if she threatened to tell anyone. Boom boom boom - I hoped I could hear her response over my pounding heart.

She stared at me in confusion for a minute or two, and then realization seemed to hit her all at once, because her eyes went wider and she started to grin. "You want me to tie you up?" she asked, and there was no mistaking the amusement in her voice.

"Do you have a problem with that?" I asked authoritatively, desperate to hang onto a shred of dignity. Fuck, I needed a smoke right now.

"No," she said, still looking a bit taken aback. "No problem." She walked brusquely over to me and grabbed me by the wrists, backing me up against the wall and pinning my hands above my head as she slid a thigh roughly between my legs. "No problem at all," she purred into my ear, flicking her tongue over the pulsing lobe.

I gasped, and leaned into the touch, forcing out a threat before I forgot how to speak. "If you tell anyone, your career is over..."

"You mean I can't brag to my multitude of friends that I got to tie up a cop and fuck her?" She laughed and shook her head. "Relax, they wouldn't believe me anyway."

"I mean it, Alex. Not a word," I ground out between clenched teeth. I wanted to be irritated at her but her thigh rubbing back and forth between my legs was making that difficult.

"I know," she whispered, kissing me just below my ear, then pulling back to look into my eyes. "Where's the rope?"

I shuddered, trying to pretend it was because I was cold, and nodded toward the closet. "Bottom drawer of the bureau," I told her, hoping she sat me down before walking away, or I might just fall to my knees... and that wouldn't do. Maybe I should change my mind, tell her to stop, that I was just fucking around. Great, Benson, start licking wounds you haven't even got yet.

"How do you want this to go?" Alex asked me, and I forced myself to focus on her words, and not her incredible blue eyes and the tempest brewing within them. "Rough or gentle?"

Oh God. Had I really thought this through? My whole body trembled, and I wasn't sure which option I wanted. I kept my eyes hard, but I was melting... "Gentle," I finally rasped, figuring it best since this was the first time I'd ever forayed into bondage.

"You're scared," Alex breathed, bringing her hands to my face and softly cupping my cheeks, rubbing back and forth with her thumbs. "You're trembling. I won't hurt you, Olivia," she promised, and I would have told her to fuck off, but for the sincerity in her eyes. She wasn't teasing me, she was being real, and I would be a jackass if I didn't appreciate that.

I swallowed and let her see inside me just a little bit. "Don't get used to my sensitive side," I finally warned in a low voice. "It's just an illusion."

Alex grinned at me, leaning in to steal a lazy kiss. "How long have you had this fantasy?" she asked, and I felt myself blushing. Son of a bitch...

"A while," I said, my voice strong again. I had to stop being mushy, it was disgusting me.

"One more question," she said, and I could sense her hesitancy in asking it. "If you had caught Fin or Elliot smoking dope, or even another woman, would they be here right now, doing this with you?"

Oh, fuck. The question I really didn't want to answer. How could I tell her? I just didn't say shit like that. My throat swelled up like I'd eaten something I was allergic to, and I decided to go for the simplest truth I could. No need to elaborate. "No."

She purred. She actually purred. "So it's just an Alex thing, then?" she asked, twirling a lock of my hair around one of her fingers. "Because for me, this is just an Olivia thing."

I felt the sting of tears in my eyes for the first time I could remember. Damnit, Alex. Don't you know you're my one weakness? If I tried to speak, I'd start crying, and I was not willing to do that, so I just closed my eyes and breathed.

I'm pretty sure Alex saw the tears threaten, because she kissed me, her hands tangling in my hair as she moaned into my mouth. "I get to be your fantasy," she murmured against the skin of my neck as she dropped her lips down to kiss me there. But she never said anything about my brief display of emotions, and I was grateful for that.

"Yes, you do," I said quietly once I stopped being afraid of choking on my words.

"Do you have any idea how jealous everyone I know would be right now if they could see into this room?"

Her teeth scraped across my neck and down to my right shoulder, sinking softly into the flesh there, and then they were replaced by a warm, wet tongue, swirling circles over my skin that gave me goosebumps.

I smirked at her comment and arched into her mouth. "I'm beginning to guess," I said dryly. "But do me a favor, Alex? Stop thinking about everyone else you know while you're fucking me."

She gave a little rumbling laugh into my shoulder and picked her head up, her blue eyes shining as she nodded her head. "Of course. Now be a good girl and go lie down while I get the rope."

She turned and walked away from me, leaving me trembling against the wall, grateful that it was only a few feet to the bed. The shades were drawn, but the moonlight still managed to filter in around the edges of the windows, casting thin shards of light across the room. It felt like a dream...

I got onto the bed and laid on my back, taking a deep breath. "How stoned are you?" I asked breathlessly, my words hitting Alex's back as she faced the bureau. I heard her laughing, and watched her straighten up, shoving the drawer closed with her foot... and only then did I realize that she was dressed in just her skirt and a white lace bra, with her blouse bunched around her hips. She turned around, licked her lips, and advanced on me with a handful of nylon rope. Oh, God.

"Not very. You stole half of my joint," she reminded me, grinning like a cat as she climbed onto her knees on the bed, straddling my waist.

The weight of her body pushing my hips down into the mattress was indescribably delicious. She wiggled her ass against my stomach, presumably getting comfortable, and I closed my eyes, unable to stop the groan that escaped my throat. When my eyelids fluttered open again, Alex was completely topless, the bra and blouse both haphazardly strewn across an empty spot on the bed behind her.

The sight of her gorgeous, naked breasts made my throat go dry, and I reached up to palm them both, squeezing firmly and then teasing her nipples hard. "In my mouth," I said, the words coming out sounding less like my voice than I would have liked - breathless and raspy - but at least I didn't sound desperate.

I think she knew that despite my desire to be tied up, I was not going to play the submissive role, because I saw a knowing glimmer in her eyes as she obligingly leaned forward enough for my lips to wrap around one of her nipples.

I sucked hungrily at it until it was red and irritated, then moved to her other nipple, giving it the same carnal affection. Alex moaned like a whore and my thighs got wetter. Hearing that undignified sound from the Princess of the 1-6 made me hotter than hell - and knowing that I did that to her, that I could unravel her like that in thirty seconds just with my mouth, well let's just say it went to my head. Call me crazy, but I don't think Alex minded. Hell I don't think Alex even noticed.

I was lost in a haze of egotism when I felt warm lips brush against my ear, and the soft contralto tones of Alex's voice interrupted my thoughts. "I would like to undress you first..."

I shivered, nodding my head in consent, and as soon as she had permission, her slender fingers went to work on my blouse, freeing one button at a time. No one had ever undressed me so slowly... her movements were purely erotic. When she had the last button undone, she opened my blouse, staring down at my bra-covered breasts. She looked like a movie, all lust and intrigue, perched on my hips as she appeared to contemplate what my nipples would taste like.

Delicately, almost reverently, she slipped two fingers beneath the top of one bra cup and peeled it down to expose my breast. She held the material out of the way as she dropped her head, and took great care wrapping her lips around my nipple. Oh fuck. It took all I had not to grab her head and force it harder against me.

Alex's eyes fluttered closed and she took a deep breath in through her nose. "Your skin," she murmured, nuzzling her nose back and forth across my breast. "So soft..."

I didn't say anything. I just breathed. She felt amazing. I was so wet. Alex made me so wet.

"Sit up a little," she whispered, releasing my bra cup as I pushed up onto my hands. She slid my blouse down my arms, followed by the straps of my bra, then her hands were behind my back, undoing the clasp that held the satin in place.

Now I was as topless as she was, and her lips found mine, her tongue pressing inside my mouth before she pulled back to look at me. I looked back. Damn, I liked what I saw. Always had. Always will.

Alex eased me back down to the bed and stroked my throat with her fingertips, eliciting an involuntary shudder from yours truly, then my collarbone, and down each arm. She picked my right arm up and pressed my palm to her lips, her tongue tracing old scars from a handful of broken glass during a bust gone bad. She sucked my thumb into her mouth and I moaned, wanting to close my eyes but wanting to watch even more. If you've ever watched someone suck on your fingers, you'll understand why I kept my eyes open.

I wanted to whisper her name. To tell her breathlessly how good she was making me feel. To tell her I loved her. But that would make me vulnerable, and I don't do vulnerable well. I just stared at her instead. My gaze intense. I think she got the picture - that I was pleased with her and wanted her to continue.

"You're so beautiful," she breathed, trailing kisses over the back of my hand, and then turning my arm over to lick the pulse point on the inside of my wrist.

Christ, that was sexy. She licked the same spot again and then kissed it. Once, twice, three times, soft and gentle - more affectionate than I deserved, I'm sure, but it was wonderful.

"I've tasted you in my dreams," Alex exhaled into the tensing cords in my wrist, biting down gently and scraping her teeth across the tender skin.

"Jesus, Alex," I hissed, and then it was my turn to moan like a whore, because she pulled my pants off and ground her hips down hard against one of my thighs, and she was wet. I could feel her desire on the thin strip of lace separating her pussy from my bare skin. I wanted it all. I wanted everything she had to give. I wanted it bad. And I wanted it now. But I could be patient. Don't laugh. Fuck you.

"Can you feel me?" she asked breathily, and one of her hands disappeared beneath her skirt. She must have pushed her panties out of the way, because the next thing I felt was skin on skin... warm, soft, wet skin rubbing back and forth across the muscles tensing in my thigh. "That's for you, Olivia. You make me crazy."

The admission swelled my head to heights previously unknown, and I growled at her, licking my lips. "Yes, I can feel you... you're so wet, Alex."

"No one else makes me this wet," she rasped, her blue eyes dancing with unguarded passion as she stopped grinding her hips and removed her hand from beneath her skirt.

"No one?" I asked, feeling as if my head would no longer fit in the room; my heart was pounding noisily in my ears and my stomach kept jolting pleasurably as I looked up at her. "Ever?" Yeah, I wanted to hear her say it. So what?

I could feel her start to breathe faster as she took up one of my wrists again and ran her fingertips up and down the underside. She picked up the rope, and my breathing increased to match hers. This was it. She was going to do it. I was going to be bound and helpless, completely at her mercy if she chose to fuck around with me. But one look in her eyes told me I didn't need to worry about that - that she was more than worthy of my trust.

"Never," she whispered, and I watched the way her throat tensed as she swallowed. She loosely looped one piece of the rope around my wrist once, twice, three times, and then tied it off with a type of knot I didn't recognize. "I've never been this excited, Olivia," she confessed, her voice so quiet I could barely hear the words. She took my other wrist and petted it softly, giving it a few kisses as she lightly wound the rope around it, binding my wrists together and again tying it off with an unfamiliar knot. "Just the thought of tasting you, touching you, of having you taste and touch me... just the thought makes me want, more than I've ever wanted anything... even the height of a climax doesn't compare to the fantasy of you, Detective."

I knew I was going to cry, and I closed my eyes tightly, breathing in and out through my nose, as deep and slow as I could. The sting of tears was unwelcome, but with it came a flood of renewed wetness between my legs. It was almost enough to distract me from the fact that my wrists were now being raised above my head and secured to the headboard of my bed. I struggled briefly and Alex froze with my hands half-tied to one of the iron slats. She was immediately leaning down over me, kissing my cheeks and stroking her hands up and down my arms.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and her concern for me was overwhelming, to the point I almost lost myself. I didn't trust my voice, so I nodded. Alex shook her head just a bit, a slight frown creasing her brow. "Please tell me," she asked softly, bringing one of her hands down to caress my face. "What's changed?"

I forced an even breath, not too deep. Didn't want to look like I was preparing for some great confession, even though maybe I was. "I didn't expect you to--" I stopped short, drawing a blank on what word to use. Not gonna say 'love'... fuck that... not gonna say anything risky.

Mercifully, Alex stepped in, her voice filled with that haughty grace that coursed through her blood in liquid waves. "To actually give a fuck about you?" she finished for me.

"Yeah," I said with a wry grin, relief crashing over me at the fact that she understood.

"How could you not have noticed?" She kissed my jaw, and I shivered under the warm touch of her candy-coated lips. "Wasn't I wearing my 'Detective Benson for President' paraphernalia around the station?"

I chuckled, shaking my head, moaning at the feel of her fingernails crawling up my arms again to close around the rope binding my wrists. "I must have been out sick that day," I said thickly, my eyes half-lidded with the languid passion she was stirring in me.

Alex pulled back to look into my eyes. "You've never been out sick, Olivia," she whispered, and the tenderness in her expression terrified me in a way that not even being restrained in a room full of perps with pistols pointed at my head ever could. "I just kept waiting for you to really look at me, at the right moment, but you never did... until you caught me being naughty tonight."

"Naughty doesn't begin to cover it, doll," I said with an affectionate sneer, wriggling my wrists beneath her grip. "This is downright scandalous."

"Is that a withdrawal of consent?" she asked, one sculpted brow raising toward me in challenge.

I met the challenge head-on, slowly running my tongue around my parted lips, then making a show of swallowing smoothly. "No," I said, one simple word, yet with so much power.

"You're still in control," she acknowledged in a bit of a whispy voice, as she secured my wrists to the headboard behind me.

"I know," I said dryly, to cover up my sudden attack of panic when I heard the nylon of the rope slide across itself and be pulled tight. It was a soft swooshing sound, like rubbing satin pillowcases together, but it felt magnified to my high-alert senses. It seemed to echo around the expanse of my skull, bouncing from nerve to nerve, with an aire of finality: Benson, you're well and truly trussed up. Hope you're prepared to like what you asked for. I tugged on the bindings, just out of instinct, I suppose, and my wrists didn't budge. I tugged harder, the walls closing in on me as my body started to process what my brain already knew. And I was hot, and wet, and panting harshly, arching my back up off the bed, to the sharp protest of my shoulders, and I immediately settled back down. Oh, it was delicious. I was hers, completely hers, physically... and she was mine, ready to do anything I told her to do, ready and waiting to play out my fantasy for me in real, living color.

"You can't get away by force," Alex whispered in my ear, and I jumped, not having noticed her leaning down so close. I guess I was too busy thinking about myself.

I was about to give a smart-assed answer, but she licked my ear. She licked... my ear. "I was-- yeah, I know that," I ended up spewing like some gangly teenager. She licked her lips like I was dinner. Oh dear God.

"Do you know how to get away?" she asked, nibbling a trail down the side of my neck.

Well now I just couldn't let my pride take too much of a beating, so I puffed up my chest and answered with sarcasm, "yeah, I tell you to fucking untie me, and you do."

She snapped her head up to look at me, something unidentifiable flashing across those baby blues as she smiled, nodding her head like an innocent little damsel in distress. "Yes Ma'am."

I shifted my position the best I could to get comfortable. "Get to work, doll." I could feel her shiver. It made me shiver, and had she not been straddling my thighs, I would have opened them for her so she could see just how good at this she was. "You got something to say to me?" I asked when she hesitated a split second too long for my liking.

She squeezed her thighs around mine, dropping onto all fours above me. The tips of her hair tickled my shoulders as she stared hard into my eyes. "Yeah," she hissed, licking her lips. "I just wanted to..." She took a deep breath in through her nose, and let it out just as slowly... "savor the moment. I never want it to end."

I closed my eyes, biting my lower lip as one of her hands slid over my pebbled nipples, raising the little erections even higher toward her mouth as she dipped her head. Her tongue touched one breast and I groaned. She licked flat across to the other breast and I pulled on my bindings, a poor substitute for curling my fingers so tightly into her hair that she'd cry.

When I felt strong, slender fingers curling in the waistband of my boxer shorts, I lost my breath and my stomach gave a violent tremble. Of course, I can't be judged by that, because anyone would shake if they had Alexandra Cabot, dame extraordinnaire, on her knees above them, peeling off their last shred of clothing. Oh yeah... let's not forget being tied to the bed. That'd make you just a bit nervous, don't lie.

By the time I got through that monologue, I was naked, and had no clue what Alex had done with my shorts. But when I saw her staring hungrily between my legs, I stopped trying to guess. She had moved down the bed and knocked my knees apart with her own, and now she gripped one thigh firmly with each hand and pushed my legs further apart.

"Detective," she husked in a smoldering voice that melted my insides into a quivering river of lava.

"What, baby?" I asked, grinding my hips upward, knowing it'd drive her wild.

The mischievous glint in her eyes prepared me somewhat for the question, but I still gagged on it a bit. "Do I really have to do this?" Yes, she batted her elegantly long eyelashes at me, pursing her lips like a porcelain doll.

I've always been a smart one, and that includes women. I caught on quickly. "Yes you do, Counselor. Unless you want me to call the brass, and you can kiss your political hopes goodbye while you spend the next two years in a ten by ten with a dyke much less forgiving than me."

Fake tears formed in her lusciously haunting blue eyes, which flicked from my face down to my pussy and then back up. "I-I don't know what to do," she lied, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth and looking at me like a nervous rookie.

"All right, little lady," I said casually, warming up fast to this turn of events. "Enough bullshit. Get on with it before I start to get angry."

Her eyes went wide and she lowered her gaze back down to my open pussy, letting go of her strangling grip on my thighs and running one hesitant finger through my dripping folds with a gasp.

I couldn't stop the jerk of my hips at the far-too-light touch. "Alex," I growled in warning, struggling against the ropes around my wrists.

She stopped fucking around and penetrated me sharply, two fingers, hard and fast, twisting roughly and leaning over to sink her teeth into my right flank.

That was hard to take lying down and a feral snarl passed my lips, teeth bared, sweat forming on my brow and dripping down into my hair. "Play with my clit, doll," I managed to say coherently, giving my arms another good tug.

My eyes were closed so I didn't expect the warm, wet, velvety sensation of her tongue on my clit. She flicked once, then pulled it between her lips, sucking and licking until I thought I was going to stop breathing. That or just fucking explode.

She (very brazenly, I might add) pushed a wet finger into my ass while she worked my pussy with her fingers and my clit with her mouth, and following the initial shock, I bucked back and forth against her, not sure which of the three sensations was driving me closer to the edge. I know. Probably the combination of them, plus the fact that it was Alexandra fucking Cabot on her knees doing me like a call girl, plus my inability to use my hands in any way. I came hard. And I'm not talking hard like you think. I mean hard. I actually screamed... and I don't scream. The pleasure was so intense that I think I lost consciousness for a second, a minute, an hour, maybe even a week... but when I was aware of my surroundings again, Alex had crawled up the length of my trembling body and was holding me cradled in one arm while she reached up to untie my wrists with the other.

As soon as I was free, I wrapped my arms around her and ravenously kissed her cum-stained lips, tasting myself mixed with her natural flavor, and it was heady and strong and absolutely intoxicating. I moaned into her mouth, betraying my state of need, want, vulnerability when it came to her, but I didn't care. I'd just deny it later.

"Olivia?" she asked quietly when we pulled apart, and I raised an eyebrow at the way her cheeks flushed red as soon as she spoke my name.

"Yes, gorgeous?" I inquired amusedly, some of my haughty pride returning.

She took a slow breath before continuing. "I know tonight is about my penance for getting caught breaking the law, but I think I might die if you don't touch me," she exhaled, much more rushed than the breath preceding the plea.

I didn't need to be begged twice. Regaining a surge of energy, I flipped her onto her back and worked my hands beneath her ass, grabbing the zipper of her skirt and tugging it down. I pulled it and her panties off in one smooth motion, letting them float to the floor as I watched, mesmerized at the way they sailed silkily down together. Her panties were black lace and satin. Groan.

"Did you expect to get fucked tonight, Counselor?" I couldn't help but ask, tearing my eyes from her scandalous underwear back to her flushed face.

"No," she heaved, lying naked on my bed. Naked. On my bed. Alex Cabot. Fuck me that was a hot sight. How did I get so lucky again?

"I'd be curious to see what you wear under those power skirts when you are expecting to get fucked," I whispered saucily.

I watched her struggle to answer that, watched the muscles in her neck flex as she swallowed hard. "I don't wear anything under those power skirts when I am expecting to get fucked," she breathed.

Instead of falling over like I wanted to do at that response, I crawled up to kiss her, hard. "And how often is that?" Oh yeah, bring on the possessive dyke persona when we haven't even finished a round of fucking.

Alex bit her lip and looked at me sheepishly. "More often than I think you'd like," she said, a smirk forming under that good girl expression.

I choked down an acid retort, instead licking her lips and biting her cheekbone, just below her eye socket. "You would look so good with a nice little love bite right here, Counselor... your skin is so soft and white..."

Alex whimpered beneath me, arching her back to press her breasts against mine. "Mark me, Detective," she gasped. "I don't mind..."

"Oh you don't, do you?" I husked, slipping a knee between her legs as I gently nipped at her cheekbone. I was not prepared for the amount of slick heat that I encountered, and I groaned against her, my knee covered in her arousal instantly. "It'll look like I gave you a black eye."

"And I'll cum every time I look in the mirror," she panted softly, her eyes drifting closed.

I did not know what to do with the raging emotions that hit me, so I bit hard on her cheek, sucking the pale flesh into my mouth and marking her with a dark purple bruise. She mewled and shuddered under my body, her thighs clenching tight around my knee as she ground her hips up against me.

"Pleaseplease," she begged, arms going round me, fingernails digging desperately into my back. "I want to feel your fingers in me. I've wanted to feel you inside me for so long, ughhhh, please!"

"We could've been doing this for months," I wanted to whine, but it came out as a frustrated growl. "If you would have said something."

"Me?" she countered, writhing and gasping and scratching me hard. "Oh fuck it Detective, we're doing it now, stop bringing that up and just pound me, please?"

"How can I resist such a delicate flower?" I snarked, but I did let one hand walk its way down between her legs to replace my knee, three fingers easily able to sink inside. "Whore," I moaned, pushing them in and out.

"Yes," she said wildly, spreading her legs wider and rolling her hips to meet my thrusts.

I rubbed and teased and scraped her clit with my thumb, pressing my little finger inside of Alex with the other three, and worked her over, leaving another dark mark on her skin, this time her jaw on the opposite side of her face. I thought they looked gorgeous, and the way she reacted to them was fucking incendiary.

Her orgasm began with a whimper and ended with a window-rattling scream, provoking my neighbor to bang loudly on the wall, the standard signal to keep it down. I clamped a hand over her mouth as I made her come again, stretching her pussy to its limit and attacking her clit without reprieve. Her cries were muffled against my hand, her body tensing and then draining itself of everything, and she lay sobbing beneath me.

I moved up to lay next to her and offered my arms, and she rolled onto her side, resting her head on my chest and draping one hand over my stomach. I didn't have a whole lot of experience comforting someone after sex, so I kept my mouth shut, figuring anything I said would just make things worse.

"That was incredible," she whispered after a few minutes of silence, broken only by the sound of her crying. "I've never been fucked like that before."

A wave of relief washed over me and I must have sighed or something, because she elbowed me and called me an asshole. "You're crying because it was good?" I ventured a question.

"I'm crying because it was so good that I don't know what to do with myself... sex has never been an emotional thing for me."

My heart skipped a beat. "So, does that mean I rate a repeat performance?" I asked wryly, unwilling still to reveal my vulnerability.

"Do you want it to mean that?" she asked, not playing my game.

I shrugged, and she moved to get up, but I quickly slung an arm around her waist and pulled her back down. "Yeah," I admitted, cursing the blush that dusted my cheeks.

She wriggled until she was turned over, facing me, and kissed my lips once. "Don't play those games with me, Detective. I go without underwear five days a week, so you'd better get a real hold on me if you want all five days to be for you."

I almost said, 'why not seven?' but managed to cough instead. I got what she wasn't saying. "I'm no good at it doll, but I'll give it my best shot. That good enough?"

She snuggled against me and mumbled 'mhmm' into my neck, and I had to close my eyes to fight down the wave of arousal when I realized she planned to spend the night.

The End

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