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They left the jailhouse in silence, Scully just a step behind Mulder as they made their way to his car. She hadn’t looked him in the eye since Padgett’s parting words to them. Agent Scully is already in love. To say that she was mortified by his brazen assertion was an understatement. She took it stoically, trying not to reveal just how embarrassed the perception made her feel. And Mulder had said nothing. No witty retorts, no teasing remarks to try to goad her into a denial. Not one word. Not even to say if he believed him or not.
Padgett still needed to be processed for release, giving them what would be enough time to get back to Mulder’s apartment and set up the surveillance equipment in the trunk of the car. Mulder unlocked the passenger door for Scully and wasted no time getting into the driver’s side. They may have a head start on Padgett, but it was still a twenty minute drive from the precinct and it wouldn’t be an easy task of getting the cameras in place.
“What do you think is going to happen?” Scully asked, buckling her seatbelt. She wanted her focus to be back on the case, not on personal issues. “If he has an accomplice, you think the man’s just going to show up out of the blue? You said yourself that Padgett didn’t have any incoming or outgoing calls, so where’s the communication? Carrier pigeons? Smoke signals?”
Mulder rubbed the steering wheel with both hands and clenched his jaw. The tension was obvious. He was annoyed. They were both annoyed. With the case, with Padgett, with themselves, and with each other.
“All right, Scully” he said. “Let’s assume you’re right and Padgett willfully imagines what he writes into reality. You read what he wrote. Should I handcuff you to a table until we wrap things up?”
“What do you mean?”
“It would certainly be in bad taste to sleep with a suspect.”
She felt her body flush with heat, both from anger and embarrassment. His tone was mocking. She didn’t seriously think for one second that he thought she would sleep with Padgett, and he didn’t, but he wanted to use it against her to prove her wrong. She licked her top lip and contemplated her retaliation.
“Wanting to do something and following through on it are two different things,” she said. She wasn’t talking about herself doing the wanting, she was talking about Padgett’s infatuation for her, but let him stew on that one for awhile. And he did, sulking in his seat and pulling on his lip.
“Well, what’s stopping you?” he finally asked. “Or do you only do one night stands when you have a craving for Philly cheese steaks?”
“Fuck you, Mulder,” she hissed. Never had the urge to slap him been so overwhelming for her. She clenched her fists in her lap and gritted her teeth. They came to a stop at a red light and Mulder banged his fist on the steering wheel.
“It’s not worth it,” he said. “He’s not worth it.”
They both retreated to their respective corners to lick their wounds. Mulder fidgeted in his seat and Scully worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The air felt stale and heated. He flipped the air conditioner on and she shivered. She thought back on the things Padgett had written about her and her cheeks darkened again. Mulder was right, if he were to assume Padgett wrote the truth, and she all but told him he had when she said he confronted her with her life story, then why wouldn’t he leap to such a conclusion?
“Mulder,” she said, trying to quell their anger by offering up some reassurances. “Not everything he wrote in that book was true. I didn’t sleep with him, and I don’t intend to sleep with him, not now and not ever.”
“I know that,” he said, quietly. “I meant that he’s not worth coming between us. I don’t care how much he wants you, he can’t have you.”
“Jesus, Mulder” she exploded. “I am not your property! My schedule is mine to make, not yours. I am free to speak to who I want, I am free to see who I want, and if it so happens that I want to have coffee with a man who isn’t you, you do not have the right to bust down the door to stop me!”
Mulder pulled the car off to the side of the road in front of a Starbucks and jerked the parking brake into place. He turned to Scully and grabbed her shoulder with one had, but she jerked herself out of his grasp.
“First of all,” he spat, voice raised in aggravation, maintaining his grip on her arm. “I wasn’t speaking out of some sense of ownership of you. You’re a god damn federal fucking agent who can take care of herself, I know that. I know that. You just said it yourself, you don’t want or intend to sleep with the man, so he can try all he wants, it’s not going to happen because you won’t allow it to happen. If you thought I was worried about it, I’m not.”
Scully opened her mouth and Mulder cut her off.
“And before you try to argue with me that it’s not any of my business who you fuck and who you don’t, let’s just be realistic for a moment and say that it very much is my business, and you know that.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond to that one before he continued. “Furthermore,” he said. “Since when am I overstepping my bounds to request your presence on an autopsy on our case?”
“A call would have been nice,” she said, weakly.
“And lastly,” he ignored her, “I wasn’t looking for you when I kicked that door down, I was looking for evidence, which I found, I might add. And, you’re welcome, by the way. I probably kept you out of another incinerator in the process of my unintentional cockblocking.”
She shook her head, appalled and angry. “There was nothing unintentional about that. You’ve had it out for Padgett ever since you found out he gave me that charm.”
“Yes, as a suspect.”
“No, as a threat to your territory.”
“Why would I think that?”
“I told you before, Mulder, sharing a bed on occasion doesn’t give you any rights or privileges.”
“Yes, you made that abundantly clear. Friends with benefits, nothing more than that.”
“And you agreed to it.”
“I agreed to put our partnership first,” Mulder said, turning away and forcibly putting the car back into gear. He jerked the car out of the impromptu parking spot, foot heavy on the pedal. “Padgett was an idiot to think you can be fucked into unlocking your heart. Fort Knox is easier to penetrate.”
Scully was stunned into silence, her chin trembling with emotion, but she didn’t cry. Mulder went quiet as well. They were more than half way to his apartment and she spent the rest of the drive with her head turned towards the window. When he stopped the car, neither made a move to get out. Finally, Mulder heaved a sigh and turned towards her. She felt his eyes on her, but she didn’t give him the satisfaction of facing him.
They lingered in the silence a few minutes more and then he was out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He pulled the briefcase of surveillance equipment out of the trunk and stalked across the patch of grass at the front of his building to get to the door and she was still in the car. So what. She had a key. She could let herself in when she was ready.
He knew she would show up. Scully was nothing if not professional, and they were on the clock. He put the briefcase on the table and went in his room to change his clothes. He felt sweaty and constricted in his suit and exchanged the business attire for jeans and a sweater. He had just pushed a chair over to the wall to hook up the camera when Scully came through the door. He glanced at her as he thumped on the wall to find a hollow spot to drill.
Without a word, Scully approached the toolkit lying open on the floor and grabbed the drill. She passed it up to Mulder and then set about piecing the parts of the camera together so it would be ready to go when he was finished. As was typical of their partnership, she anticipated what he needed before he asked and he trusted her to know. The camera was hooked up in no time and Padgett still hadn’t come home.
She opened the briefcase to finish setting up the monitor and audio feed while he cleaned up the mess from putting holes in the wall. When he finished, he stood in the middle of the room, looking at her. She lowered the headphones from her ears and let them rest around her neck as she caught his eye and held his gaze.
“Do you want something to drink?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she answered.
He turned to go to the kitchen for a glass of water, but the sound of the door swinging shut next door made him pause. He looked at Scully and she pulled the headphones back up to her ears. He moved around to the far side of the coffee table and she scooted over to make room for him on the couch so he could see the monitor.
They watched Padgett sit down at his table and light up a cigarette. He stared at the typewriter in front of him, silently smoking. Mulder leaned over to adjust one of the settings to take out a bit of the static on the feed and his knee bumped into Scully’s. She shifted her leg away from his and he mumbled an apology as he continued to play with the knobs on the monitor. She shifted her leg again and nudged his knee with hers, very softly but deliberately. He turned his head towards her and she lowered the headphones.
For a long while, they stared at each other, their eyes searching each other’s faces for clues as to what the other was thinking. Both looked wounded and both looked regretful. Scully looked away first, dropping her chin and staring down at her thighs.
“I’m sorry,” Mulder said, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean to…”
“I know,” she said, lifting her head and putting the headphones back on. Briefly, she touched Mulder’s knee and then turned back to the monitor. “Later. When this is over.”
He sat back and they watched Padgett do absolutely nothing for nearly an hour. Scully took her boots off to get more comfortable and Mulder paced for lack of anything better to do. He went to the kitchen several times for water and used the restroom once, his impatience growing with every passing minute. He played with the camera, hopeful that there was something in the room he wasn’t seeing.
Finally, Padgett began to type. He took them both off guard by suddenly leaving and Mulder ran off to follow him. He chased the writer down to the basement, catching him red handed trying to burn the evidence. He listened to the man give a pseudo confession, insisting he was directed to write the murders, not the other way around, and then he delivered the blow that Scully was the next victim. He was on the verge of arresting him when the first shot rang out. Oh God, he thought. Scully was right.
Scully cursed herself for having taken off her shoes. What a stupid thing to do. It didn’t matter where they were conducting surveillance, she should have never gotten that casual. She quickly zipped up her boots to follow Mulder, but was taken off guard by a man in a hooded sweatshirt in the doorway. He seized her by the neck, pushing her back into the apartment. Oh God, she thought. Mulder was right.
The pain didn’t initially register. She was too shocked. The man in the hooded sweatshirt knocked her down and took her breath away. She felt a searing pain in her gut, just below her solar plexus. It burned. She felt her flesh tear open as she fumbled for her gun. She emptied the chamber into the man’s chest, confused as to why the bullets went right through him. Was she dreaming? Was she dead? Then she felt an enormous pressure inside her chest, surrounding her heart. She felt fingers. Her heart was being squeezed. Pulled. Extinguished. With her last breath, before she gave in to the pain and let go, she hoped to God that Mulder knew how she felt.
No no no, Mulder thought, crouching down over Scully’s lifeless body. There was blood, so much blood, but her chest appeared to be in tact. He looked closer and let out a sigh of relief. Softly and steadily, her neck quivered with the beat of her pulse and he knew she was alive. He looked her over to assess how badly she was hurt, but she startled them both by suddenly opening her eyes and gasping. She grabbed on to him, fingers slipping over his back as she weakly tried to pull herself closer and closer. He held her as she sobbed into his neck, tried to soothe her tears by stroking her back. She wept until she was empty and then she went quiet, but still clutched fistfuls of Mulder’s shirt in an unrelenting grip.
“Are you hurt?” he asked when she stopped crying.
“No,” she answered. “I don’t think so. No.”
He laid her back down on the floor and hesitated over her. “I’m going to unbutton your shirt,” he said. She nodded at him and he separated the buttons until he could pull the bloody fabric aside. Her skin was painted with red smears and what looked like a handprint across her chest.
“What happened?” he asked. “Who did this?”
“Your psychic surgeon.”
“Naciamento was here?”
“He wanted my heart. He tried to…I felt his hand inside me, Mulder.”
“Inside you?
“In my chest. Ripping...ripping…” She sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide.
Mulder ignored the blood and placed his palm flat on Scully’s chest, splaying his fingers over the top of her left breast. She let out the breath she was holding and her heart thumped quickly against his hand. She covered his hand with hers, pressing down and holding him there for some time.
“I shot him,” she said, and her eyes drifted up to the bullets lodged high in wall. Mulder turned his head and tracked her gaze. It didn’t make sense, but her gun was on the floor next to her and there were holes in the wall so she definitely shot at something.
“Can you stand?” he asked, sliding a hand under her head, preparing to lift her off the ground.
“I’m okay.” She stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and then sat up on her own, looking around the room. “The door’s open.”
Mulder got up and hurried over to the front door to shut it. Scully got to her feet on her own and stood staring down at her ruined shirt, rubbing the tails between her thumb and index fingers.
“Come on,” he said, guiding her into the bathroom.
“Where’s Padgett?”
“Burning his manifesto in the basement. You were right, Scully. He was conjuring these murders with his typewriter.”
He started the shower and ran his hand under the spray until it felt warm enough to him. He turned towards Scully to find her staring at herself in the mirror, dragging her finger through the drying smear of blood above her left breast. Without asking, he took off her jacket and her shirt and then unhooked her bra. He dropped the bloody clothes in a heap on the floor and she looked down at them in wonderment.
“What will you do with them?” she asked.
“Burn them along side that asshole’s book,” he answered, bending to unzip her boots.
Scully held on to the sink as she stepped out of her boots and Mulder removed her socks. The mirror was beginning to fog over with steam and she wiped her hand across it to get another look at her bloody chest as she passively continued to let him undress her. The mirror was just beginning to fog over again as she caught the reflection of Mulder pulling his sweater off behind her. She dropped her head and stared at the red fingerprints she’d left on the lip of the sink.
He kicked his pants to the side and pulled off his socks. Sliding his boxers down, he watched Scully lean against the sink with a bowed head. He set his hands on the inward curve of her waist, letting them slide down and rest on the soft flare of her hips. She was non-reactive, and if it weren’t for the tremble in her arms from gripping the sink so tightly, she would be still as a statue.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, easing her hands off the sink.
She let him guide her into the shower and sighed as the warm water drenched her sticky chest and ran pink as it swirled down the drain.
“Turn around,” he said. “Put your head back and close your eyes.”
Scully did as Mulder asked, tipping her head up so that the spray hit her face at just the right angle. He ran a soapy washcloth over her, starting with her shoulders and moving down slowly. She pursed her lips and pushed a sluice of water away from her mouth as she straightened. Wiping her hands across her face, she straightened out of the spray to open her eyes and look at him.
“Can you explain any of this?” she asked.
“Padgett…he told me that you had to die. That was his ending.” Mulder paused and took a moment to run a bar of soap across the washcloth in his hand and then flicked his eyes up to meet hers. “Life imitating art?”
“Then why am I standing here?”
“He burned his book. Perhaps by destroying his words, he put a stop to what was in motion.”
“Naciamento had his hands around my throat, Mulder. I felt my chest crack. The blood…this wasn’t a figment of his imagination. Or mine.”
“No, it was a manifestation.”
Scully sighed and closed her eyes again. Mulder continued to run the washcloth over her body. The blood was gone, but that wasn’t really the point. He washed her arms and her belly and her hips and then stepped closer to her so he could reach her back, though he could have had her just turn around. She bent her neck and rested her forehead on his chest as he stroked her from shoulder to hip.
“We’ve never showered together before,” she said, looking down at their wet feet pointed towards each other. His stance was wider, his feet on the outside of hers, his big toes nearly touching her pinkie toes.
“Sure we have,” he replied.
“Decontamination showers don’t count.”
“This isn’t all that different. Under normal circumstances, I’d…” He paused for a moment and then slowly ran the cloth across her back again, but didn’t finish his thought.
Scully swallowed. The sound of the water echoing off the tiles reminded her of a rainstorm. She closed her eyes and remembered laughing in the rain with Mulder in a cemetery only a day after they met. It felt so long ago. It felt like yesterday.
Mulder pulled the rough washcloth down Scully’s spine from her neck to her tailbone, following with soft fingers. She swayed on her feet and arched forward. Her belly brushed against his and she put her hands on his sides to hold on, to steady herself. He dropped the washcloth and crossed his wrists over the small of her back. The washcloth blocked the drain and water began to slowly rise around their feet.
“Mulder,” she whispered. “The things Padgett wrote...”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Some of it might be true.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
She lifted her face up to his and he automatically cupped her cheeks, pushing her wet hair back and away from her eyes. She had to get something off her chest and she didn’t want him to interrupt. She gave him a penetrating stare, trying as much as possible to hold him captive with her eyes so that he would just listen.
“There’s something I want you to know,” she said.
“I do know, Scully. I didn’t need Padgett to tell me any-“
“Shhh…”
She put her fingers lightly against Mulder’s lips and continued to stare at him until she felt like he understood. Slowly, she lowered her hand back to his waist.
“I thought I was going to die on your floor,” she said.
Mulder opened his mouth on a breath, but then clamped his jaw shut and pursed his lips.
“There are things I withhold from you because I am afraid of what you’ll think of me,” she said. “And I don’t need you to say that whatever it is, you won’t think less of me, because it’s not that.”
“Try me,” he said.
“I’ve worked really hard in my life to be seen as capable and independent and to be taken seriously, not just as an agent, but as a female.”
Mulder nodded. He wanted to say she was the most capable, the best agent in the FBI, male or female, but he had a feeling that would make things worse right now and he kept his mouth shut. Her head dropped and he immediately touched two fingers to the underside of her chin and lifted her gaze back to his.
“Sometimes I wish you’d forget all of that,” she said. “The appeal of…the appeal of a stranger, is that they don’t have to know any of that. To a stranger, I’m just a woman. Nothing more than that. And I don’t have to be anything more than that to be appealing for them in return.”
She paused and swallowed as though her voice had stopped working.
“Admitting that is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done,” she whispered. “Not to you, but to myself.”
Of all the things Mulder thought she might say, that wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t quite comprehend why this was such a burden for her, but the fact that it was an enormous revelation for her, and that she chose to share it with him made his chest swell from the honor of it. She might like the idea of a stranger, but it was him that she trusted enough to show him all sides of herself. He didn’t think it was possible to love her any more, but he did.
“We need to get out of the shower,” he said.
“Why?”
“So I can try my damndest to make you feel like the woman you are.”
Scully looked up at him with a hint of trepidation in her eyes. He wasn’t going to let her hide from this. This was an opportunity. He was tired of pretending that the thing between them didn’t mean anything. He was tired of going to bed with her and waking up alone. He could be just as enticing as a stranger.
“We need to get out of the shower,” he said again, leaning into her as he reached down to turn off the water.
He brought her out of the shower and got her a towel, leaving her to dry herself while he went to find her something to wear. He came back with a t-shirt and a pair of running shorts with a drawstring. She looked confused as he handed them to her. He was already dressed in a pair of jeans, chest still wet.
“Just trust me,” he said. “Meet me in the living room.”
She towel dried her hair and sifted through the pile of ruined clothes on the floor to find her underwear. By the time she joined Mulder in the living room, the surveillance equipment was out of the way, her gun was no longer in sight and he was standing in the fading light by the window and the dim glow of his fish tank. She stopped near the coffee table and he turned around.
“You know, I don’t usually do this,” he said approaching her slowly and then sliding his hands over her hips.
“Do what?” she asked.
“Take strange women home with me. But, I saw you across the room and I was drawn to you.”
“Mulder.” She sighed and tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip and stepped closer into her space. Her arms dangled loosely at her sides and she turned her face to the side and leaned away from him.
“I thought to myself, she’s the most beautiful fucking creature I’ve ever seen. I had to get closer to find out if you were real.” He lowered his head a little and bent his knees until his nose brushed her hair and his lips tickled her ear. “Sure enough, you were real.”
Mulder raised one hand to her hair, running his fingers over it so lightly that it tickled her scalp and caused her to shiver. Her arousal was instantaneous and it flooded her panties with heat and moisture. He traced a path from her hairline to her jaw and down her neck to her shoulder.
“Porcelain skin,” he said. “Titan hair. Crystal blue eyes. Cherry red mouth with an irresistible, very kissable curve of the upper lip.”
Very faintly, Mulder rubbed his lower lip across her mouth. The slight hint of his tongue touched the inside edge at the tip of her cupids bow. She opened her mouth for him, but he was already moving on.
“Elegant, Grecian nose,” he continued, moving his head so that his nose came across her cheek and along the side of hers. Her eyes fluttered shut and she felt his breath move over her browline to her temple. The backs of his fingers came down her left arm to the inside of her palm. Her hand twitched and she tried to clasp his fingers, but he deflected.
“Delicate wrists,” he said, briefly cuffing her with his thumb and middle finger before sliding his hand up the inside of her arm and into the sleeve of her t-shirt.
Her knees began to shake with desire. Every inch of her skin felt electrified and his touch sent little jolts of anticipation between her legs. He had his face in her neck now, nuzzling and kissing her collar.
“I knew you would smell good,” he said, breathing her in. “With skin so clean and soft, I imagined you indulging in long, hot baths filled with oils. Lotions and creams every day. You probably take your time. Luxuriating.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, in spite of herself.
“The black dress you were wearing was form fitted,” he said, moving on and letting his hands roam over her back and down, down to the swell of her backside. “Perfect, tight, round little ass. I wondered how it would fit in my hands.”
He squeezed her once and it lifted her onto her toes in surprise. She bumped into his chest and grabbed onto his shoulders as she stumbled. He was warm and solid against her, all muscle and strength. Slowly, he eased his hips away from her, but not until she’d felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing against her within the confines of his jeans.
“I wondered more about your breasts,” he said, releasing her and sliding his hands up and around her waist until the span of his thumb and index finger curved along the underside of both breasts. “I bet they’re more perfect of a fit. In my hands and in my mouth.”
He lowered his head towards her chest and she bit back a moan. She arched towards him and he opened his mouth over her left breast. He flattened his tongue against her nipple, but the t-shirt didn’t allow for contact and she shuffled her feet in frustration. His teeth closed lightly onto the hardened peak and she whimpered. He moved away all too quickly and she felt like climbing out of her own skin. Actually, she felt like climbing up his body and forcibly impaling herself on him, but she also wanted to climb out of her own skin to end this exquisite torture.
He took hold of her hips once again and pushed her slightly away. He knelt down in front of her, one knee at a time, and then jerked her forward. The roughness of the gesture made her already swift heartbeat pick up even more and sent another hot flood of need between her thighs. She didn’t know how there wasn’t a puddle of her desire on the floor by now.
“I can smell you,” he said, looking up at her before pressing his face against her belly. He breathed so deeply that she could feel it. Her hands fell to his shoulders and she sagged forward.
“Please.”
Mulder sat back on his heels, holding her hips away from him at arms length as she bent over him, panting. He tipped his head and stretched his neck to catch her mouth in a soft kiss. When he pulled away, she followed, in need of more.
“I don’t know anything about you,” he said. “Except for what I just told you. And I want you to come home with me.”
“I want you to take me home with you,” she answered.
He got to his feet and caught her off guard by sweeping her up into his arms. He moved quickly into the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. It was dark. They could both barely see but for the strip of light across the bed from a street lamp outside. She came up on her elbows to look at him as he hovered over her and they stared at one another until she lied back in surrender.
Slowly, he brought the shorts down her legs and threw them back into the dark recesses of the room. After a few moments of contemplation, he peeled her soaked panties away from her and tossed those aside as well.
Scully trembled with anticipation and Mulder put both hands on her quaking thighs. He pushed her legs apart and held her there, just looking at her until she grew hot all over and began to squirm. She was perfectly centered in the strip of light and she knew he had a clear view of her open body.
“Don’t move,” he commanded. “Let me look at you.”
She squirmed a little more and he placed his hands on either side of her head, coming down towards her. She put her hands on his chest, rubbing his pectorals and straining her head to kiss him. He pulled his head up, thwarting her attempts.
“Everything about you is beautiful,” he said. “I’m going to look at you and I’m going to tell you what I see.”
“Mulder, I…I…” She stuttered, overwhelmed by the thought.
He ignored her protests and moved back down her body, crawling low over her so his chest brushed against her until he was back on his knees between her legs. He traced circles with his thumbs on the inside of her thighs.
“There’s a flower called the butterfly pea,” Mulder said. “In Latin, aptly named clitoria javitensis. A pale, peach-colored flower, the winged petals are fused together to form a curled ovoid. The stamen is enclosed in an interior petal at the top of the flower, hidden, but straining to break through. All it takes is a little bit of pressure against the petals and it’ll unfold. That’s what you are. A beautiful, peachy, butterfly pea after a rainstorm.”
“God,” Scully whispered. The image of blossoming flowers was suddenly the most erotic thing she’d ever thought about.
“I need to know what you taste like,” he said, sliding down so that he was stretched out on his stomach, feet dangling off the end of the bed. He hooked his arms under and around her thighs and lowered his head to kiss her hip. She shook beneath him, her hands flying down to grip his hair.
He grabbed her arms and pinned her wrists to the bed next to her hips, raising his head for a moment, telling her with his eyes that he was in control of this, not her. Her bent knees pressed into his shoulders in impatience and he lowered his head again, this time hitting the mark and she gave a hoarse cry.
“You taste like the ocean,” he murmured, exploring her inside and out with his tongue.
She pulled at his hands and arched her hips, writhing as though she was in agony, and she was. It felt so good she wanted nothing but more. It felt so good she wanted to escape from it. Her muscles pulled at him, wanting to swallow his tongue deeper inside, but it was impossible. It was agony.
He let go of her hands so he could touch her, turning her wrists down so that she clutched at the sheets in his absence. She was so wet he had no hesitation about curling two fingers inside her and probing for the pulpy, sensitive wall of flesh known as the g-spot.
“Ffffffffuck,” Scully breathed, her feet suddenly slipping for purchase by Mulder’s sides. She twisted her hips, but he draped one arm across her abdomen and kept her in place. With his thumb, he pressed against her and let the petals unfold and reveal the hidden pearl that was going to be her undoing. She nearly levitated off the bed as his mouth descended on her.
She began making small little panting whimpers at the back of her throat. As far as Mulder was concerned, it was a symphony. He could count on two hands the number of times they’d had sex, but she’d kept it mostly impersonal. Never had she allowed him to taste her and never had he heard the kind of cries coming from her mouth. It had always ended satisfactorily for both of them, but this was the first time he’d seen her so uninhibited. It made his already too tight jeans even more uncomfortable.
Lick, suck, probe. It was like a mantra in his head and her cries spurned him on. She strained up, grabbing on to his head and this time he let her. Her thighs pressed almost brutally against his ears, muting her whimpers, but he didn’t stop. She went rigid and he felt the wet heat of her pleasure slide down his fingers and down his hand as it dripped out of her. Her muscles loosened, she let go of him, and he gently slipped out of her before raising his head.
She had the back of one hand pressed to her mouth, teeth digging into the knuckle of her index finger. He slid his hand under the t-shirt that had ridden up her hips and caressed her belly until she shifted her eyes at looked at him. As she watched, he sucked his two glistening fingers into his mouth and licked them clean.
Jesus, Mulder, she thought.
He lowered himself again, rubbing his denim clad hips against the sensitive skin of her thighs as he made his way to her mouth, nudging her hand aside so he could kiss her. She tasted the subdued, salty flavor of herself in his hot, sticky mouth. He kissed her until neither of them could breathe and then rolled off of her and sat up, tugging at her hand until she got to her knees.
She raised her arms when it was obvious he was trying to pull her shirt off and it went the way of her shorts and panties. He anchored both hands to her backside and pulled her to straddle his lap. Standing on her knees, she was the perfect height for him to bend forward and devour one of her breasts, opening his mouth wide as though he could fit the whole thing in his mouth. She moaned and it caused another wave of desire to spill out of her.
He gave one breast the attention of his mouth, and the other the attention of his hand, rolling the stiff points of her nipples with his fingers and biting just hard enough with his teeth to cause a whimper. And then he switched sides.
“Mmm,” he murmured against her right breast, and his voice vibrated against her chest. “This one is my favorite.”
“Why?” she breathed.
“There’s a secret mole right here,” he said, swirling his tongue along the defining curve of the underside of her breast, high on the inside where the line of cleavage would start. “I like how it feels against my tongue.”
“Oh.”
Mulder lifted his head from her breast and grabbed her head, pulling her down into a searing kiss. With her palms flat on his chest, she played with the sparse hair under her fingers, smiling against him as he groaned and leaned towards her. She moved one hand down over the ridges of his abdomen, but he caught her wrist and put it back on his chest.
“Bad idea,” he murmured, nuzzling her throat. “Good idea, but bad idea.”
“I want you,” she admitted in a whisper.
He sucked in a breath and unbuttoned the fly of his jeans, carefully wiggling out of his jeans and boxers while she waited above him, licking her lips as she watched. He nearly came just from the sight of her tongue sweeping across her mouth. When he kicked his pants free of his legs, he turned towards his nightstand for the box of condoms that had replaced the expired set just a few months ago. She stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing him back, giving just a small shake of her head.
“I don’t want one,” she said.
“Are you sure about that?” he asked. “I’m just a guy you met tonight and will never see again. You don’t know me.”
“No, you’re not, and yes, I do. And we both know there’s no reason for…I don’t want one. I want…”
“What do you want?” he asked, rubbing the side of her thighs in encouragement. “What do you want, Scully?”
“I want to feel all of you.”
“Have you ever done that before?”
“No.” She blinked steadily at him. “Have you?”
“No.” He shook his head. His heart banged wildly against his chest. He was already so close to the point of oblivion, he didn’t know if he could handle the raw feel of her without any barriers at all.
“So…it’ll be a first for both of us,” she said.
“I don’t know how long I can last like that.”
“It’s okay. Just the feel of you is all I want.”
She was already poised over him, one move by either of them and he would easily be inside of her. He didn’t know if it would be too much too soon if she had the power position. He didn’t know if he would be able to give her what she needed to release her a second time if he laid her out on the bed and took control. He tipped his head back against the wall and swallowed.
“Mulder?”
“You have the reins, Scully. But, I’m warning you, if you go slow right now, it might kill me.”
“I’m going to have to touch you.”
“I’ll do it.” He wrapped a hand around himself as Scully lifted her hips slightly. He watched her face, unable to watch them come together or it would be all over. He moved his hand as soon as he felt her slide down on him and she stopped about half-way, adjusting her hips and then coming down fully.
They were face to face and he wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her steady. Slowly, she put her arms behind her and arched her back. She rocked her hips and he did the same. All in all, he felt like giving her control was the better choice. He was incapable of thrusting into her the way he wanted to, which helped a little, but at the same time, he could feel each ripple of the tiny inner muscles as they quivered eagerly. He wanted to think of anything but how tight and hot and wet she felt, but it was impossible not to. He already felt the building pressure rising and he willed it to stay away, just for a little longer.
“Tell me what it feels like for you,” he said.
She had her head back, eyes closed. Her mouth was slack and open. Her hair shook as she moved her head in a back and forth gesture.
“Tell me,” he said.
“Feels good,” she breathed.
“No, tell me what it feels like,” he said again, placing one hand teasingly low on her abdomen and sweeping his thumb down towards her center. He brushed her lightly with his thumb, withholding the pressure he knew she tipped her hips up for.
“Can’t tell you,” she panted.
“Yes, you can.” He gave that magic button a little press as an incentive.
“No, Mulder, I don’t have the words for it like you do. Please.”
“What words do you need?” he asked, giving her a reprieve and rubbing circles with his thumb, increasing the speed and pressure as he spoke. “Moist? Hard? Throbbing? Pulsating? Clench? Full? Silky? Penetrating? Ache?”
“Yes,” she said, her brow furrowed. Her hips fell and she twisted her shoulder, putting all her weight in the strength of one arm as she covered Mulder’s hand with her own to press him even harder.
He couldn’t hold out any longer.
“Mine?” he asked, voice harsh and husky. “Does it feel like you’re mine?”
“Yes,” she cried out. “Oh God, Mulder, yes.”
He tumbled into ecstasy with a burst of trembling. Heat spilled out of him and into her and she gasped, squeezing his hand with bone-crushing force. She nearly fell back, but he caught her, breathing roughly against her chest as she hugged his head to her breast.
They were both damp with sweat. Her hair had dried into natural waves and then curled erratically in the humidity of their love making. They rocked together in each others’ arms and then Mulder turned them to the side and laid her down. He brought his leg up over her hip, keeping her close and wrapped up in a full body embrace.
They were both quiet, the only sound was their mingling breath as they came down from the high and then even that tapered off and the room was still. Scully’s eyes were closed, affording Mulder the opportunity to study her face for a few moments. She looked peaceful and calm. He picked up her hand, playing with her fingers before lacing them with hers and bringing them up to rest against his chest.
“Scully?” he asked.
“Yeah?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking…” She sighed. “We’ll probably need another shower.”
Mulder smiled and she opened her eyes. She pulled her hand free of his and touched his mouth, tracing the line of his lower lip with her thumb. Her pursed his lips to touch it with a light kiss.
“Will you stay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll stay.”
The End