DISCLAIMER: All characters belong to Dick Wolf and NBC, I'm merely using them for entertainment.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
My lover is such a contradiction. I've known that since the first day I met her, a beautiful NYPD detective with a big gun and a big heart. She's amazing, she intrigues me, and every day I learn something new about her, something I never thought would be possible.
I'm lying in bed, unable to sleep, and staring at the body next to me. The weather is hot and humid, and at some point during the night the sheet has been thrown off, and is now in a sweaty, twisted mess at the foot of the bed. But I don't care, because it means I can please my insomnia and feast on the sight of her naked form.
She's lying on her stomach, her head turned to face my way. Her hair is stuck up in all different directions, but it's shiny and smooth and I love it. When we're lying on the couch after a hard day at work, she likes me to stroke it gently. She says it comforts her. But when we're making love, she likes me to tug at the wisps on the back of her neck. She says it arouses her.
She looks so peaceful as she sleeps, and I wonder what she's dreaming about. If her eyes were open, I may be able to know. Sometimes, her eyes are so expressive I know exactly what she's thinking and feeling and needing. But other times her eyes are so closed off and distant I can almost see the walls she puts up around herself. Once I questioned her about it, and she told me that I'm the only one in the whole world who can bring her barriers crashing down.
My own eyes travel down her body to her back. She is slightly flushed by the heat, and I reach out to trail my fingers lightly along her shoulder blade. Her skin is so unbelievably soft and warm, and scented like my lavender soap she loves so much, but underneath I can see the strong muscles that ripple with every movement. She is so feminine, with full breasts and a nicely rounded ass, but if you look closely you can see the strength lying dormant, waiting for the chance to burst out and crush the perp that is her focus at that time.
It's the same with her arms, that same strength concealed by her supple, olive skin. When she holds me, they rest on me so lightly even though they feel like they can protect me from the whole world. When she's inside me, I can see the tendons and muscles flexing with the exertion as her arm thrusts, but when I'm inside her, her grasp is so weak she can't do anything but give into the pleasure.
I pick up her hand that rests near my hip and stroke my thumb over the calluses on the palm. Her hands amaze me too; when she's working her movements are so sure and steady, she can empty a whole clip without a tremble, but when she caresses me her hands shake so badly I have to tell her to stop, and I kiss each fingertip until her clumsiness disappears.
Still holding her hand, I let my gaze wander down her back to her legs. I love the way they tangle with mine in the middle of the night, and I can feel the smooth skin of her calves gliding past mine. I love the way they get coated in sweat when she goes for her morning run, and how her damp skin sticks to me when she comes to wake me up. I love the way I can make them turn to jelly and her knees give way when she sees me getting undressed. And I love the way they clamp round my hips tightly and refuse to give way until she is totally spent.
I am brought out of my reverie by her muttering incoherently in her sleep. Her voice has so many different tones, I couldn't possibly list them all. Soft and gentle as she soothes distraught victims, hard and unforgiving as she arrests suspects. It can be interlaced with laughter as she jokes around with the lads, and full of arousal as she huskily mumbles what she'd like to do to me in my ear when we're in the squad room. When she's testifying it never wavers, but it hitches every time she whispers 'I love you' as her body collapses onto mine. And when she growls 'fuck me' oh God, I could just die.
Like I said, she is a contradiction. One night she'll be in O'Malley's with the rest of the squad, drinking beer and shouting curses at the baseball players on the wide screen, and the next she'll be at a fine restaurant with me, savouring red wine and flirting with me in a low whisper. One moment she'll be consoling victims and their families, promising them justice and calming them with that expression that makes me fall in love with her even more, and the next she'll be running down the street after a rapist, giving them a look that puts fear into their hearts and arouses me so much I have to order her into my office and
Okay, now I'm thinking about things I really need her awake for. There's an intense throbbing between my legs that only she'll be able to satisfy, and I reach out to wake her. But my hand hovers over her shoulder, as I remember we both have to be in court tomorrow, and it would be helpful if at least one of us was alert from a full nights sleep. I struggle to cross-examine her at the best of times without getting distracted by how goddamn sexy she looks in her trouser suit, her brown eyes focused solely on me as she answers my questions from the very place that is central in many of my sexual fantasies.
It's only when my thumb brushes my clit and I jump that I realise my hand is firmly nestled between my legs. Guiltily I pull it away, glancing at my companion to check I hadn't woken her. She must have turned onto her back whilst I was daydreaming, and I gulp audibly at the sight of her naked torso. The heat has covered her in thin layer of sweat, and it is glistening in the light from my balcony. Without thinking about it, I sit up and lean over to lick up the droplets that have pooled between her breasts, relishing the taste of the salt mixed in with the taste that is uniquely hers.
But now I've had one taste, I cannot resist the temptation, and I leave a wet trail over her chest, tracing the curves and flicking her chocolate nipples until I feel her tremble beneath my tongue.
"Alex ?" she half groans, sounding adorably confused and sleepy and mildly aroused all at once. I don't reply, but my tongue moves over her collar bone, up her long neck and along her jaw line, until I can wait no longer and I capture her mouth in a kiss that sends my stomach rocketing through the soles of my feet. She groans again, but this time she's fully awake and fully turned on. Any remnants of restraint I had left vanish, and as I slip my tongue into her mouth I forget that we have to be in Judge Petrovsky's court in five hours.
Her palms are flat on my back as I move further on top of her, pushing our bodies even closer together so our nipples rub, making us both cry out into the kiss.
"Jesus," she hisses when she feels my wetness on her thigh, and I stifle a moan as I slide up and down to coat her skin with my heat. She looks at me curiously, but I press my hip bone into her own crotch, and she no longer cares for questions. Instead she grabs my hips and gently begins to move them in small circles as her lips reach blindly for mine.
The pressure of her thigh on my clit is just right, and I know my hip is hitting the right spot because her breath is hitching in her throat, and soon each circle is accompanied by a short, strangled cry.
If I could, I would stay in this moment forever; my lovers' hands on my hips as her body writhes underneath me, eyes locked and lips mere millimetres away. But, unfortunately, I'm about ready to burst, and the tingling in my stomach is threatening to bubble over. I slow my movements on her thigh, eliciting a whimper from her, but I quickly replace my hip bone with my hand, entering her with two fingers. I stay still for a moment as her back arches off the bed, letting her get used to the penetration, then I begin to slowly thrust, bringing up my thumb to rub against her engorged clit.
I watch her intently through dilated pupils, until I feel her walls begin to contract around me, then I know she's in the same place as me. I resume my movements on her thigh, and it isn't long before I crash over the edge, Olivia seconds behind me. I collapse onto her, burying her face in her neck as we both try to calm our racing hearts.
It's a good few minutes before I can summon the presence of mind to roll off her. We lay there, side by side, staring at the ceiling with unfocused eyes before she breaks the silence.
"Wow," she croaks, shaking her head in disbelief. "That was unexpected."
"I'm sorry," I whisper, but I'm not really. She knows I have next to no control when I'm near her, just as I know she has next to none when she's with me.
"Don't apologise," she says softly, turning onto her side to face me. "I could do with surprises like that every night." She reaches out to lightly run her fingertips up and down my stomach.
"Good," I reply with a smile, lifting my head to place a chaste kiss on her lips, then letting it flop back onto the pillow.
I can feel her stare, and I know she is studying my face, memorising my features like she does after every time we make love. I asked her why she did it, once, but she just got tears in her eyes and pulled me in for a bone-crushing hug. She didn't let me go for an hour.
Once again, her voice interrupts my thoughts. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but what brought that on?" she asks, her amusement shining through her lazy drawl.
I grin, and my eyes slide shut as I remember what I'd been thinking about. "I was remembering last week, when we were walking down the street and you spotted Carlson in front of us. God, you looked so sexy when you caught him up and grabbed him, all I could think of was pushing you into that alley behind you and taking you right there, hard and fast." I open my eyes and look at my lover, glad to see she is enjoying this as much as me. "I thought I was about to come in my pants when you leaned into him real close as you slid the handcuffs on, and snarled whatever it was in his ear."
She doesn't move for a very long time, and I know that she is imagining my alley scene in her own head. I put my finger under her chin and gently push her mouth closed, sealing it with a kiss.
"Oh my," she murmurs, her mind still in a dark alley in West Manhattan. "Oh. My."
I giggle, and she comes back to this room. Before I have time to realise what's happening, she's upon me, devouring my mouth with a familiar ferocity. Not prepared for the sudden move I have to pull my head back for air, and she starts to kiss my neck, biting and suckling on the spots she knows are particularly sensitive.
"We have to get up in two hours," I gasp, my voice leaping as she presses her teeth to my racing pulse.
"I don't care," she tells me, and as her mouth moves further south I find neither do I.
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