A/N: Kind of a two-word one-shot. I got the words "Woods" and "Birthday" and both requested STRONG M ratings. So...here it is. It's not what I normally write.

DISCLAIMER: Dick Wolf owns SVU and characters. TStabler© owns this story.

Gun raised, walking as softly as she could, Olivia Benson had never been more afraid in her life. She heard the snap of the twig beneath her foot as she stepped and she cringed, freezing. She continued her quest when no footsteps, or other noises, were heard.

She had followed directions. She had come alone, not telling anyone where she was going. This hump had pissed her off, leaving her rude notes and harassing text messages. She was willing to do whatever it took to get him, even if that meant walking through the woods of the only forest left in the city. In the middle of the night. Without backup. No one ever said she was smart.

She listened to the crickets chirping around her, she swatted, with her free hand, at the bugs and gnats whizzing by her face. She was thankful for the bright moon, but desperately wished she had a flashlight. She felt things cracking and squishing beneath her feet as she moved, and she really wanted to know if she was killing mice or stepping in mud. On second thought, no she didn't.

She saw a clearing up ahead and wondered if that was where the psycho had taken Elliot, so she moved slowly, stealthily, toward it. The hand that closed around her mouth and arm that looped around her waist came out of nowhere. The gun fell from her hands as she tried to wrestle the large body off of her, but it was hopeless.

She blinked and felt herself get thrown into the trunk of the nearest tree. She tried to calm down, remembering what she had always told the victims she worked with. She looked into the eyes of the man pressing his body into hers, his hand still wrapped so tightly around her mouth she couldn't even move her lips to scream, she was even more surprised.

He gave her a warning glare and a smirk, moving the hand pressing into her stomach down to her waist, to her jeans. The button popped, the zipped was pushed down, and still his hand clamped over her mouth. Throaty moans of protest escaped, caught in the calloused flesh of his palm, and he chuckled, his eyes narrowing, making her heart pound even faster.

She wiggled her hips, and pushed her back into the tree, making the job of getting her pants down easier. What was wrong with her?

He smirked with more evil behind it as the denim slid off of her waist, dropping to the leaves and grass below. His hand moved to her panties, and when his knuckles brushed against her covered mound, he chuckled. "You want this," he whispered.

She squeezed her eyes shut, still paralyzed by the fear of what was happening and the fear of the fact that he was right. She let another moan go as he brushed his fingers over her again.

"You're fucking soaking wet," he said, a hidden, proud laugh in his voice. "You can't tell me you don't want this."

She shook her head and bucked her hips.

"Poor girl," he said. "You have no idea what you're in for," he hissed. He gripped her panties and tugged hard, ripping them off of her.

She rolled her eyes back, unsure of if that hurt or felt incredible. She let her eyes land on his again and saw the fire in them. The burning passion and slight fear that danced in his eyes, as dark as the midnight sky above her. She mumbled something into his hand, muffled and choked sounding.

"What was that?" he teased. "I couldn't hear you. You have to speak up."

She rolled her eyes again, this time out of frustration. She let her eyes focus on his other hand, and she would have smirked if she could move her lips. He was free from the constraints of his own pants, stroking himself as he looked at her, watching her reaction.

He used his elbows to shove his pants down the rest of the way, figuring if her bare ass was out and about in the dark woods, his should be, too, and he stroked himself harder, knowing she was watching. He leaned close to her and said, "Do not scream. If I take my hand away, you make no noise until I tell you to, got it?"

She nodded as she peered into his eyes. His hand lifted away from her mouth and he backed off of her slightly, giving her room to move. Her hands slid up his body to his shirt and she ripped it off, sending his buttons scattering among the twigs and leaves and rocks. She raked her nails over his chest, and she moaned when his pecs twitched under her touch.

The hand not stroking his rigid length moved to her shirt, and in a change from the vicious man he was before, he flicked each button open, one by one, sliding the shirt away from her body slowly. He wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged, forcing her back to arch and her chest to rise. He pulled one silk-covered nipple into his mouth and bit through the material, rolling it between his teeth.

"Oh, God," she moaned, her head falling back.

"You say nothing," he reminded her, "Until I tell you to."

She pressed her lips together and moved her hands to his throbbing manhood. She moved his own hand away and took him into hers, stroking slowly, hard.

He took the opportunity to move both hands to her bra, unclasping it and pulling it off of her. "Don't fucking stop," he commanded, pressing her back into the tree behind her.

She seethed as the rough bark hit her bare back, and she briefly wondered what people would think of her if they knew. If they knew she let him do this, and was enjoying it, and didn't want him to stop.

He bent his head and bit her neck, sucking on the red circle after, making her moan and pull on him harder. "Faster," he spat, running his hands down her body. His right hand stopped at her left breast, pulling her nipple hard, rolling and squeezing it. His left continued it's journey, slipping between her legs. Two fingers slid up her slick folds and he said, "Stop."

Her hands stopped moving, and she inhaled sharply as his fingers moved back down her dripping opening. She had to bite her lip to keep from cursing, and he knew it.

"Spread 'em," he barked.

She opened her legs a little wider and she gasped when his middle finger slipped inside of her. Her hands shot to his shoulders and squeezed as his finger twisted her, almost literally, into knots. "Hmmm," she grumbled through clamped together lips.

He chuckled as he pushed another finger into her, watching her eyes widen, then roll back into her skull. She was being stretched, but she needed to be. He was not a small man, and though this was about dominance and submissiveness, it was not about pain. He did not want to hurt her. He pressed his naked body into hers, his erection hitting her thigh, as he thrust his fingers. "You wanna cum?" he asked.

She nodded, bucking into his hand.

He added yet another finger, loving the way she was obeying him by keeping her mouth shut, watching only her eyes reveal her feelings. "Not yet," he said, shaking his head. "You cum when I tell you to," he ordered.

She nodded and dug her nails into his shoulder. She made incredible, muffled noises as her head dropped against his shoulder, and she began to shake.

"You aren't allowed to cum yet," he said, pulling her head up by her hair. He pulled his fingers out of her, and brought them to his lips. He licked one clean, moaning. "You taste so fucking good," he told her. Then he slammed his lips into hers, prying her mouth open roughly, letting her juices blend with the flavor of their kiss. "See?" he asked when he pulled away.

She nodded, licking her lips.

He smirked and sucked his other two fingers clean, then he leaned in to kiss her again. "Hey," he whispered.

She looked into his eyes and asked a silent question.

"Scream," he demanded. Without warning, without tenderness, he impaled her, filling her up, burying himself to the hilt in one thrust.

"Holy fuck!" she yelled, her body racked with intense pleasure. "God, Elliot!" she cried as he started thrusting.

He moaned and chuckled, hearing his name being yelled like that did something crazy to his ego. Being inside of her felt amazing, and knowing that, for tonight, there were no rules, made him work harder to please them both. He felt her clenching already and he shook his head. "Oh, no ya don't," he warned. "Don't you dare," he hissed.

"God," she moaned, holding onto him. Her back was rubbing up against the bark with every thrust, and the pain only added to the pleasure she was feeling. "El," she whispered, her head falling forward.

He lifted her knees, driving harder into her, and wrapped her legs around him. "Hold on," he commanded, hitting into her. He placed one hand on the tree for support and moved the other to her nipple, twisting, squeezing, pulling, flicking, and he bent his head to suck on it, trailing his fingers toward the place their bodies were joined.

She vibrated when his thumb brushed over her clit and when his fingers started rubbing her, around his thrusting piston, she really let it out. A loud cry of his name flew out of her mouth into the air.

He sucked harder on her nipple she said a muffled, "You're not allowed to fucking cum yet." He rubbed faster, thrust harder, flicked over her clit more vigorously. "Fight it," he said, letting her nipple go. He looked up into her eyes.

She looked back at him, her eyes watering, her body no longer working but letting itself be taken over by him. "Fuck," she whispered. "Baby," she moaned softly, "Oh, God, baby."

He couldn't hold back either, and he moved faster, harder, and he wiggled his thumb over her bundle of nerves rapidly. "You wanna cum now, baby?" he asked.

She nodded quickly. "You," she groaned. Not a question. A statement. She was waiting for him.

"Fuck," he hissed, feeling his body burn and tingle as the contractions rose through his system. "Shit, baby," he cried. "Cum!" he grunted.

She clamped down on his shaft as soon as the word left his mouth and her whole body went rigid as she curled herself around him. "Oh, my God, Elliot!" she cried, moaning and whining as she started to shake.

He couldn't stop thrusting. He was shooting into her, still moving, still wanting more, not ready to let this night go. "Oh, God," he moaned, holding onto her body, still being wracked by its own long, intense orgasm. "So fucking..." his last word was swallowed by a grunt, as he slowed down then stopped, still holding her tightly.

She was still shivering against him, and she just realized, as her vision came back, that she was biting him. He was bleeding. She lifted her head and let it fall against the tree. She licked her teeth, and her lips, and she felt a drop of his blood trickle out of the corner of her mouth.

"You look so fucking sexy right now," he told her, dropping his head to kiss her. He made the kiss slow, sweet, romantic, as he held her in his arms. "Are you okay?" he whispered to her.

"Fuck," she chuckled. "What the hell do you think?" she asked, looking at him. "I'm amazing," she said, her eyes closing and her head dropping forward.

He chuckled. "You are," he said, kissing her shoulder. He looked down and gasped. "Baby," he seethed, "Your back! Why didn't you say something?"

"Didn't hurt," she shrugged.

He let her down gently and they both moaned as their bodies pulled apart.

She smirked at him, feeling the same thing, and she leaned to him, kissing him.

His hand reached between her legs and gently stroked her, just once. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked against his lips.

"We both wanted this," she whispered to him. "It was incredible, El, yes. I'm fine." She bent down to pick up her pants, sliding her legs into them. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. "I just never wanna go too far, ya know? You need to give up control once in a while," he said, "And I need to really assert my authority. Once a year, we sneak away and we do it. For each other, with each other. I don't want to..."

"Hey," she said, cupping his face. "I trust you to know when enough is enough. Eight years, you haven't hurt me once." She smiled as she saw the relief in his eyes and said, "Happy Birthday, baby."

He smiled and kissed her deeply. "Thank you," he said, holding her. "You ready to go home?" he asked.

She nodded bending down for the rest of her clothes. "Did you have to pick the fucking woods?" she asked, slapping at a mosquito.

He laughed. "I love you," he said.

She straightened up and said, "I love you, too, El." She smirked and asked, "What are you getting me for my birthday?"

A/N: A birthday in the woods. There you have it.