Title: Things Can Only Get Better
Author: Lovesfox
E-mail: Lovesfox@rogers.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: Smut, OB (tight quarters), challenge, UST/MSR
Spoilers: None
Summary: Mulder and Scully and one hotel bed
Archive: If you'd like, let me know first please
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them, they don't belong
to me. Chris Carter and 1013 Productions
have that pleasure.
Author's Note: This is in response to Whispers of X
True Blue Challenge - June 2001
Thanks to: MAL, Mortis, and Nancy (SBR) for beta-reading
and encouragement.
Items required:
-One bed
-A stuffed animal
-A bottle of any drink (that won't open)
-A really odd tree
-Mulder quoting rules that shouldn't be broken
AND agreeing with them
-A broken air conditioner
-A door that just won't stay closed
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Things Can Only Get Better
by Lovesfox
Motel 6
Somewhere, Georgia
Rapidly fanning herself with a section of newspaper, Agent
Dana Scully peered through the passenger window of the
rental car, desperately hoping to see her partner walking
out the motel office door. To no avail. She squinted her
eyes, focusing on the door, and due to the warped condition
of the glass, could barely make out his lean figure,
standing by the counter.
She couldn't understand what was taking Mulder so long to
get them two rooms for the night. The 'Vacancy' light was
on, albeit glowing weakly, so what gave? He had been in
there for ten minutes, and she was not only exhausted and
travel-sore, but getting warmer and warmer. Upon parking
the car near the Motel Office, Mulder had turned the engine
off, not wanting it to overheat, and automatically removed
the keys from the ignition and pocketed them as he had
exited. Which was why she was fanning herself with the
newspaper. Though at least there was some residual cool
air in the car, seeing as they'd had the air conditioning
running at full blast for quite a while.
All of a sudden it looked like he was waving his arms,
gesticulating wildly, perhaps yelling.
What the hell was wrong?
Grumbling angrily to herself, she yanked on the door
handle and pushed it open, feeling a nearly overwhelming
roll of heat wash over her body as she stepped out of the
car. Almost immediately her clothes were stuck to her
body, and sweat began to bead on her brow. It was like
being in a sauna. And it was nearly nine o'clock at night.
How did the people in this state stand this relentless
heat?
With a muttered curse, Scully slammed the door shut and
walked the several feet to the Motel office door, feeling
as if she were walking through thick molasses. Pulling on
the door's handle with an angry jerk, she entered into
blessed coolness and barely managed to contain her heartfelt
sigh.
She quickly ran one hand over her hair, while discreetly
peeling her damp silk blouse away from her stomach with the
other, and approached the desk, extremely weary from just
that short walk from car to office. She was also a little
stunned by the abrupt temperature change of searing heat
to freezing cold.
Mulder and the man behind the counter, a pot-bellied older
man in a grimy white tee shirt and equally grimy baseball
hat, both turned to look at the sound of the tiny bell
ringing over the door at her entrance. Mulder grimaced at
her, clearly frustrated, and then quickly resumed the
stare-down and shouting match she had obviously interrupted.
Scully moved to stand next to Mulder, and was just about
to rest one elbow on the counter, when she took in its
extremely dirty condition. With a moue of distaste, she
changed her mind and straightened wearily. Turning her
body slightly, her eyes automatically began taking in her
surroundings. She even tuned out the two arguing men, too
tired to care. The anger that had brought her out of the
car and inside had evaporated.
The office was square-shaped, cut in half by the counter
that ran full-width through the room, and the floor was
carpeted in a dingy brown shag reminiscent of the 1970's.
The walls were dark wood paneled, gaping in places, and
graced with crookedly hung framed velvet portraits, also
relics of another decade. There were two naugahyde chairs,
in a horrid faded orange to the left of the door, with a
battered end table between them. On it sat the saddest,
oddest-looking plant Scully had ever seen. Taking a second
look, she realized it was not a plant after all, but a
Bonsai Tree. It was really and truly pitiful, and she
wanted to put it out of its misery.
A particularly loud exchange between Mulder and whom she
assumed was the Manager, had her turning back to look at
them.
"Fine! We'll take it!" Mulder gritted out then, his face
glowering.
It? She blinked slowly, mind working with equal
sluggishness. Did he say 'it'? What did he mean 'it'?
Scully leaned closer and put a hand on Mulder's forearm,
feeling the tightness of his muscles from his anger.
"Mulder? What's the problem?"
Still speaking through gritted teeth, he replied, "There's
only one room left." He flicked a glance at her. "And
they don't have any cots or roll-away beds, either."
She held his eyes, seeing the emotions flickering through
them. "Oh," she said quietly. They had been driving for
almost two hours, and this was the first motel they had seen
in that time. Both of them were tired and irritable, and
she knew they could not spend another minute in the car.
But one room, and obviously only one bed? Not exactly
Bureau policy, that was for sure. Weakly she said, "Well,
we'll work something out, I guess."
Mulder only nodded, and they commenced the checking in
process. He dug his wallet out of his pocket, and then
fished his Bureau credit card out, dropping it on the
counter, ignoring the Manager's out-stretched hand reaching
for it. "We need a receipt," he said flatly.
***
Room #11
Ten Minutes Later
Scully stood in the threshold of the motel room, staring in
dismay. Behind her and outside, she could hear the sounds
of Mulder opening and closing the trunk as he retrieved
their luggage. She entered reluctantly and stepped to the
side, to move out of his way. The office should have been
a pre-warning to what she might see, but she'd still had
hopes.
They were completely dashed.
The room was decorated much as the office had been. Brown
shag carpet, dingy beige walls, thankfully picture-free,
with matching heavy corduroy brown curtains covering the
small window to the right of the door. In front of said
window was a small faux-wood laminated table with two
naugahyde chairs. The only other furniture was a low,
six-drawer dresser upon which a small TV sat, visibly bolted
to the wall, and the bed.
The double bed.
She swallowed heavily, shutting her eyes tightly. A
moment later, she reopened them, and frantically searched
the room again. But it was futile; there was still no couch,
nor a chair bigger than the two by the table.
She and Mulder would have to share the bed.
The double bed.
She couldn't get those words out of her head. Double bed.
In the office, after Mulder had told her there was only one
room and no extra beds, she had automatically assumed
there would be a queen-sized bed. She had assumed wrong.
Thunk. Thunk.
The sounds startled her out of her stupor, and she looked
back to see that Mulder had dropped both their overnight
bags on the floor just inside the door. His tie was pulled
away from his collar, the top button undone, and sweat
matted his brow. "Nice digs," he said, sarcasm barely in
check. Swiping one hand over his forehead, he added,
"Jesus, it's hotter in here than outside. Didn't you turn
the air conditioning on, Scully?"
In her shock and dismay over the room and its only bed,
she had forgotten. "Oh, sorry," she answered, and moved
over to the window. Grasping the edges of the curtains in
both hands, she tugged them open to reveal an ancient,
battered unit, barely supported in the frame. She flicked
the switch to 'High', and waited for the familiar, noisy
hum to start.
Nothing happened.
Biting her lip, Scully reached out and turned it off,
waiting for a few seconds. She then turned it to 'Low',
wondering if the high setting had been too much for it.
Still nothing.
"I don't believe..." she started to say.
"It doesn't work?" Mulder said, standing directly behind
her, his chest brushing her back, causing heat of another
kind to wash through her body. "Son of a bitch!" he
cursed, and spun away. "This just keeps getting better
and better!" he snarled.
Scully turned around to see him rip his suit jacket off
and throw it down on the bed. His tie was next, yanked
down to loosen the knot further and then off his neck. He
threw it towards the bed, but being lighter than the jacket,
the silk article merely fluttered to the floor. He swore
again, his hands going up to his neck again, and then his
hands fell away and went to his hips. He turned slowly in
a circle, apparently just now noticing the bed, and took in
the rest of the small room. "This is going to be
interesting," he mumbled, after sighing harshly.
"It'll be fine," Scully stated. Her voice was calm, her
insides were not. Interesting, indeed. Pushing the thought
of the two of them in the small bed together out of her head,
she moved over to retrieve her overnight bag from the floor.
"I'm going to take a shower," she told him, and after
placing the bag on one side of the bed, shrugged out of her
suit jacket, laying it carefully on the bed.
She then unzipped the overnighter to remove her toiletries
case. Her hands brushed her pajamas - her long sleeved,
men's-style two-piece pajamas - and she groaned to herself.
There was no way she could wear those tonight, she'd die
of heat stroke. After putting the toiletries case on the
mattress beside the overnight bag, she dug around and pulled
out a tee shirt and running shorts, glad she had stuffed
them in there early yesterday morning when she packed her
bag. They were going to have to do duty as pajamas this
time.
Flicking a glance at Mulder, who was now fiddling with the
air conditioner, she grabbed a clean pair of cotton panties
and took everything into the bathroom.
She tried not to look too closely at the condition of the
sink, toilet and shower, and gingerly placed her bundle on
top of the small sink counter. The room was a slight bit
cooler than the other room, which was a relief, because she
needed to shut the bathroom door. Not that she thought
Mulder would enter, but because it was a quirk of hers.
Grasping the doorknob in one hand, she shut it firmly and
turned her back to get undressed.
A slight squeak had her turning around again, to see the
door open about an inch. "Mulder?" she asked, and stepped
over to peer out the crack. He was still over by the air
conditioner, his back to her. Shrugging, Scully pushed the
door shut, leaning her palm on it for a moment to ensure
that it was indeed closed, before once more turning away to
begin removing her clothes.
Before her hands had even risen to undo the buttons of her
blouse, she heard the squeak again. Whirling around, she
saw that the door had opened that same inch. With an
irritated huff, she used both palms to almost slam it shut,
hearing the satisfying thud and the click as the latch found
the door jamb.
And watched as it popped open again, creaking to a one-
inch gap. "Figures," she muttered, and decided short of
propping it shut, she was just going to have to live with
it.
Scant minutes later she was stripped and under the luke-
warm, stingy spray of the shower. Normally the lack of hot
water would have had her cursing, but with the heat in the
room, it was actually a blessing. Still, she washed quickly,
knowing Mulder would probably want to take a shower as
well.
Her nighttime ablutions were performed by rote, and when
she exited the bathroom dressed in her makeshift pajamas,
it was to see Mulder just entering from outside. He was
dressed similarly to her, in a tee shirt and shorts, and
was carrying what looked like a bottled water. "Oh, hey,
Scully," he said. "I would have got you one, but this was
the very last of anything in the machine. You want to
split it?"
Scully shook her head, carrying her soiled clothing to 'her'
side of the bed, where her overnight bag still sat. The
toiletries bag had been left on the tiny shelf over the sink
in the bathroom, she'd need it in the morning anyway. "No,
I'm fine."
Just as she hefted the handles of her overnight bag, not
bothering to zip it closed, and lifted it off the bed, Mulder
swore rather loudly. Startled, she dropped the bag, and it
hit the edge of the mattress and fell over, spilling a good
portion of its contents onto the floor. "Mulder!" she
exclaimed, rounding the bed to go to him, concerned
something was wrong. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered lowly. "Sorry." He held his
bottle of water up briefly, revealing its dented condition.
"Can't get this damn bottle open." Scully watched the
muscles of his arm strain as he tried to open the screw top
lid again, ignoring another little flash of heat that went
through her at the sight.
"I guess whatever damaged the bottle, also screwed up the
top," he added tightly. That said, he gave up and plunked
the bottle down on the dresser's top with a little thud.
"Guess I'll take my shower now," he said next, and began to
dig through his overnight bag.
Scully moved back to her side and knelt down to scoop up
the spilled items from her bag, neatly refolding the items
of clothing and returning them to their proper location.
When she lifted her pajama bottoms off the floor, she saw
something she'd rather Mulder did not. Something that was
a little embarrassing for her to admit that she carried
around with her on their trips. She scooped it up in one
hand, hunching her shoulders to help hide it, while her
other hand smoothed over its soft surface.
A tattered, dog-eared stuffed animal - a once snow-white
bunny that Missy had given to her when they were young,
not long after her real pet bunny had died.
Mr. Snuffles.
Mulder walked past her into the bathroom then. Once he
had shut the door, she rose from the floor and tucked the
bunny rabbit back into her overnight bag, carefully placing
her newly folded pajamas on top of him. She held back a
giggle when the door squeaked open and Mulder grumbled,
slamming it shut, only to have it open once more. "It won't
stay shut, Mulder," she called out, and heard his grunt of
acknowledgement.
By the time he re-emerged from the bathroom, bringing
with him the faint scent of his soap and shampoo, she had
already crawled under the top sheet, having kicked aside
the ugly polyester bedspread. Even that sheet was too much
in the thick heat of the room, but she had felt uncomfortable
lying on the bed with no covers, as if she were awaiting her
lover. No matter how much the thought made her insides
dance and quiver.
It was dark in the room once he turned off the bathroom
light, for she had re-shut the heavy window curtains, and
Mulder stumbled once, bumping into the corner of the bed.
The mattress shifted as he patted his way along to his side,
and then she heard a rustling followed by the sound of
something hitting the ground as he muttered, "Too hot for
this." She was fairly certain he had removed his tee shirt,
and she was not sure what he was wearing on the bottom,
although her guess would be boxers or his running shorts.
A moment later the mattress dipped significantly when he lay
down.
When he did so, Scully's body immediately rolled towards
his due to the condition of the mattress, like she had been
sucked into a giant vortex. Her face bumped into his
shoulder, and because she had gasped with the suddenness
of her movement, her lips touched his skin. At the same
time her legs encountered his silk-covered hip and upper
thigh. And heat, unbelievable heat. "Oh! I'm sorry,
Mulder," she blurted out after a long, stunned moment, and
scrambled to roll away from him.
"S'okay, Scully," was his huskily murmured reply. He
chuckled next when her efforts proved fruitless; rolling
right back into him as soon as she had shifted away.
He was like a furnace. A large, firmly-muscled *male*
furnace. How in the hell was she going to sleep like this?
When Mulder snickered again, she worried that she had said
that out loud, and her eyes scrunched shut in dismay.
"Relax, Scully," he said then. "I don't bite...unless you
ask me to." He started guffawing, the whole bed shaking
with his exertions, and only laughed harder when she elbowed
him in the side. Which only frustrated her more, making her
growl. "Okay, okay," he got out, chuckles petering to a
stop, though she could feel him shaking with repressed
laughter. "Geez, Scully, find a sense of humor, wouldja?"
Obviously his mood had improved significantly while he had
been in the shower. With a sniff of pique, Scully rolled
onto her side, drawing her knees up slightly, presenting him
with her back. Which was pressed along his arm, her bottom
touching his hip, all due to the mattress. "Good night,
Mulder!" she said tersely, and resolutely shut her eyes.
She would ignore him, and think pleasant thoughts until she
fell asleep.
And those would not include the temptation of his long, lean,
hard, hot, nearly nude body either. Or of turning over and
pressing herself against him in an entirely different way.
Yeah, right.
She groaned inwardly, and pushed away the image that had
immediately sprung to mind - that of Mulder, dressed only in
the pair of black silk boxers that often played a significant
role in her fantasies, silk like the ones she was sure he was
wearing now, and lying amongst the tangled sheets of her bed.
Her bed? Oh, God.
"Night, Scully," came Mulder's husky reply a moment later.
His voice still contained a hint of laughter, and was like
honey pouring over gravel. It made her insides melt. She
sensed a long, torturous night ahead of her, and had a
feeling she'd be rising with the dawn.
Somehow though, despite her traitorous mind and body, she
fell asleep.
The first time she woke up, and she had no idea how much time
had passed, Mulder was spooned around her. His chest was
pressed along her back and his arm was draped over her waist.
He was breathing slow and deep, the exhalations blowing softly
in her hair. Too drowsy and comfortable to care, despite the
heat generating from his body, Scully drifted off again.
And woke up some time later to find herself sprawled across
Mulder in a very unpartnerly-like fashion. They had at some
point shifted around - he lay on his back, and she lay on
her side facing him. Her cheek was on his chest, the top of
her head snug under his chin, her arm slung over his belly.
His arm was around her shoulders, his fingers just brushing
her cotton-covered right breast.
At that knowledge, her nipple hardened to a near-painful nub
beneath her tee shirt, the friction of the material on the
very sensitive flesh causing her to suck in her next breath.
Mulder's fingers twitched then, his arm tightening, and his
hand flexing to briefly cup her breast more fully, and he made
a little humming sound that reverberated throughout her body.
His legs also moved, shifting restlessly beneath the top sheet
that came only to mid-waist on him.
It was then that she realized that her thigh was draped across
his groin, that at some point when she had rolled over to face
him she had also bent her leg at the knee and raised it to lay
across his body. That her *bare* thigh was separated from
Mulder's...Mulder's...*package* only by the thin silk of his
boxers.
And that he seemed to be well-blessed in the package department.
Her lower body was pressed quite firmly into his muscled upper
thigh. Latent arousal zinged to full life. Her blood felt
thick and heavy, moving through her veins like syrup, desire
pooling low in her belly, and her nostrils flared, inhaling
Mulder's scent. His ripe, rich scent - male muskiness barely
masked by his clean, fresh soap.
Some wicked, wicked part of her, long-denied and buried deep
within her, had her moving - arching like a cat into his body,
her leg rubbing over the silk-clad flesh and feeling it harden.
His chest swelled under her cheek as he breathed in heavily,
and then his voice rasped, "Scully."
The sound sent shivers down her spine and had her back arching
again. The arm around her shoulders tightened almost convulsively,
and his hand touched her breast more fully. He moved his other
arm, bringing it up to rest along her leg, his large hand cupping
the underside of one cheek, where thigh became buttock. His
fingers were perilously close to the arousal-dampened cleft
between her legs, hidden beneath the cotton of her shorts and her
panties. He thrust his hips upwards, his hard cock like a
firebrand against her inner thigh, and he groaned, low and deep.
The motion of his hips shifted her leg, bringing his fingers even
closer to where she now so desperately wanted them, and Scully
answered his groan with a breathy, "Mulder." She thrust her own
hips a couple of times, almost grinding herself against his thigh,
and he moved his hand lower, his fingertips sliding under her
shorts and just grazing the edge of her panties. "God, Mulder."
He groaned again and then hoarsed out, "Scully, I want you." He
made a snorting sound, almost derisively, and said, "That's
obvious. But..." His voice trailed off and he sucked in a gulp
of air as if girding himself and continued, his tone hesitant
and possibly filled with his fear of rejection, "I don't just
mean I want sex. I mean I want *you*. If...if you don't feel
the same way, you need to stop now. I'll turn over and we'll
forget this ever happened." Despite those words, his hands had
not stilled - the index finger of the one on her breast was
stroking her tee shirt-covered nipple, and the fingers of his
other hand continued to trace the laced edge of her panties,
perhaps subconsciously.
Scully sucked in her own breath, both from his declaration and
the feelings he was invoking in her body. Decorum and propriety
were suddenly warring with her desire. She had wanted Mulder
for so very long, had suppressed her feelings and urges and needs
so many times, but the careful, practical, *professional* side of
Dana Scully wondered if it would be a mistake of epic proportions.
How would this effect their partnership, their work? Would
they be able to separate this part of their lives from the rest?
Her heart was still pounding, but no longer just from arousal.
She did not know what to say, had been struck silent.
But that continued silence apparently worried Mulder, for his
hands edged away from the danger zones. They moved to rest on
her rib cage and thigh, the tension in the digits strumming
against her skin. He spoke again, his voice still low and
hoarse, "Scully? Help me out here. Am I barking up the wrong
tree? Have I misread things?"
He was there, as close to her as was humanly possible, and he
wanted her, as much as she wanted him. *Her*, not just any
woman. How could she deny them both the pleasure she knew
without a doubt was there for them?
"No," she rasped out. She moved her arm, the one that had been
lying across his belly, and slid her hand caressingly along his
ribs to his chest, where she let her fingers toy with the flat,
hard nipple in a tuft of crinkly soft hair. He hissed, his
stomach twitching beneath her, but held himself very still.
"You're not misreading things, Mulder," she clarified further.
"I want you. I've wanted you for a very long time."
Mulder rolled them both suddenly, so that she lay flat on her
back with his body covering hers. Her legs automatically parted
so that he was cradled between them, his silk-covered erection
nudging at her entrance, and her hands landed on his hips.
His eyes met hers, intense and hot, and black with his desire.
He shifted so that his upper body was supported on his forearms,
and cupped the sides of her head with his palms, his fingers
tangling in her hair. Their faces were only inches apart.
"You have no idea how long I have wanted to hear those words
from your lips, Scully," he rasped. "How many times I dreamed
and fantasized about them." Then he slowly lowered his head.
He fantasized about her? Just as she did about him, so many,
many times?
She tried to keep her eyes open, but at the first brush of his
lips on hers, they fluttered closed. His name escaped her
mouth on a moaning sigh when instead of kissing her fully, he
proceeded to nibble at her bottom lip with his teeth.
He chuckled against and into her open mouth, the sound and the
sensation washing over her in delicious, shiver-inducing waves,
and then drew her lip in between his. Applying gentle suction
to the sensitive flesh, he then traced it with his tongue.
Scully moaned again. She wanted more, so much more. She wanted
to feel his lips hard and hungry on hers, to feel his tongue
sweeping over her gums and teeth, and mating with hers. Sliding
her hands along the waistband of his boxers to the dip of his
spine, she swept them up, palms flat, until she reached his upper
back. Once there she applied light pressure, in an attempt to
deepen the contact between their bodies, and their mouths.
Thankfully he acquiesced, engulfing her mouth in a near-bruising
kiss that melted her insides, and had her nails digging into his
skin. It was long and deep and hungry, and seemed to go on
forever.
Somehow her hands were in his hair, and his had found the hem of
her tee shirt. He began pushing it up, but ran into difficulty
because his chest was pressed tightly to hers. Breaking the kiss
he rose up on his elbows, panting. Her hands joined his, and
together they managed to pull the shirt up and over her head,
where it was then tossed aside.
Mulder immediately sank down again, searching for her mouth, and
they both hissed at the feel of bare flesh on bare flesh before
their lips connected. Her nipples were already tight little buds,
and the contact with his chest made them ache. She wiggled her
upper body both to tease herself, and in an effort to entice his
hands or mouth to her breasts.
As always, he read her intentions perfectly, his lips pulling
free of hers once more. They slid wetly down her neck, pausing
briefly to suck at her clavicle, before he reached one stiff
peak and drew it into his mouth. One of his hands settled onto
her hip, and the other trailed slowly along her ribs until it
cupped the neglected breast. Tongue and thumb worked in concert,
teasing both her nipples, while he began a circular, pressing
thrust of his midsection into her pelvis.
Scully had brought her hands back to his hair, and had been
running her fingers through the silky strands. But when she
felt his hard cock sliding over the juncture of her thighs as he
shifted to put his mouth at her breast, she stroked one of them
down his back to rest on his silk-covered ass. She squeezed one
cheek while gently grinding herself against his body.
Mulder released her nipple with an audible 'pop' and then licked
and kissed his way to the breast he had been teasing with his
fingers, sucking that nipple into his mouth. After a long,
pleasurable moment, he mumbled around a mouthful of breast, "I
want to taste all of you."
Moisture flooded her core, and she bucked beneath him, groaning
his name. An image filled her head, of Mulder's dark head between
her legs, her hands fisted in his hair, holding him to her as his
tongue danced over her swollen flesh. "Oh, God, Mulder, yes," she
sighed, both hands again in his hair, pushing his head downwards.
He obliged and nibbled his way down her belly, using tongue and
teeth on her skin. He paused to swirl his tongue around her
belly button before jabbing it into the little indentation, making
her shift restlessly in reaction.
Coming up to lean on one elbow, he ran the index finger of his
other hand along the waistband of her shorts, murmuring, "We don't
need these anymore." Rising suddenly to his knees between her now
wide-spread legs, he looped two fingers of each hand under the
thick cotton band, and tugged downwards. Bending her knees, she
planted her feet flat on the mattress and lifted her behind, so
that he could pull the shorts off, which he did, throwing them
over his shoulder. They landed with a soft plop somewhere beyond
the bed as she lowered herself back onto the bed, legs trembling
slightly.
She lay there in anticipation, expecting Mulder to remove her
panties next, but he did not move. Shifting her gaze to his face,
visible even in the dark of the night, and saw that he was staring
down at her body. Suddenly wishing she had slipped on some scrap
of lace or silk, instead of sensible, practical cotton, she
shifted restlessly, and said his name softly. "Mulder?"
"You are so beautiful," he said then, and his voice was filled
with awe and lust and arousal.
The words stunned her, and she was both embarrassed and proud of
his regard. She also moved, almost unconsciously preening,
arching her back and thrusting her chest forward.
His teeth flashed at her in a grin as he moved at last, bringing
his hands to the waistband of her plain panties. He peeled them
down so slowly, his thumbs dragging along her flesh, that she
squirmed and almost moved to shove them down and off more quickly
herself.
Mulder chuckled in that devastatingly sexy way of his, and
continued with his leisurely pace, drawing them down along her
legs with a teasing see-saw motion. At last though, the panties
were gone, thrown away to join her other discarded items of
clothing, and he was shifting on the bed to lie between her legs.
He renewed his attentions where he had left off, darting his
tongue into her belly button again.
Then he did the unexpected once more. Instead of following the
slight curve of her belly to her mound, he switched direction
suddenly, veering to the left to scrape his teeth over her hip
bone.
Scully jolted beneath him, gasping in shuddering shock. God,
that one touch had sent unbelievable darts of pleasure throughout
her system, and he hadn't even reached the waiting triangle
between her legs.
His tongue lathed the spot before he nibbled down the outside of
her thigh, still not following any predictable path. He lingered
there, in the crease where thigh became groin, drawing a section
of her skin into his mouth and sucking strongly, in a way
guaranteed to leave a mark.
God, she hadn't had a hickey in years. And never one in such
an unusual and...oh, God, the man's tongue and mouth were
incredible...such a sensitive and erotic place.
He ran his tongue down the length of her thigh, and then one of
his hands was cupping her calf, lifting her leg so that he could
nibble at the underside of her knee. A sucking kiss on her
patella and then his tongue was trailing along her shinbone as
his hand slid along her calf to cup her heel. His tongue darted
out again, circling her ankle bone, and making her foot jump in
his hand, and then he sprinkled tiny kisses along the arch of her
foot until he had sucked her big toe into his mouth, drawing on
it as he had her nipples.
Both of her nipples throbbed, as did her vagina, deep inside,
while his mouth sucked on her toe. She imagined that he was
sucking on her clit instead.
Thankfully he did not find it necessary to suck each of her toes,
or to sample her other foot, and his return journey up her
opposite leg was brief, peppered with tiny kisses along the way.
And finally he reached the apex of her thighs, settling his body
between her legs with newfound familiarity. He nuzzled his nose
into her curls, inhaling deeply, and she sighed his name.
At last he was where she had ached for him to be. Except he
once again held still, his mouth millimeters away from her wet
core.
Her hands, which had been laying at her sides, returned to his
hair, to clutch his head to her. She restlessly moved her lower
body in a silent plea for him to end the torment, to stop his
teasing. Which he did, by first lathing her folds with his
tongue, and then flicking it over her hard little clit. He
repeated the same pattern a couple times, and her restless
movements became more like thrusts, pushing herself into his
face.
Scully had to suck in her next breath when she felt the scorching
heat of his tongue delving inside her. He thrust in and out with
it, simulating the motions that hopefully would be demonstrated
by his cock very soon, before suddenly enveloping her clit in
his mouth, tugging gently with his lips. This action earned him
a choked off scream, "MUL-der!" followed by the near-frantic
bucking of her hips. He sucked harder, and the pleasure continued
to build, wave after wave, her entire body tightening, all her
feelings centered in that one little spot.
He brought his teeth into play then, scraping them over the hyper-
sensitive bundle of nerves, and this action pushed her over the
edge. She came with another scream, back arching, eyes scrunched
shut as starbursts of color flickered on the backs of her eyelids,
and her arms flung out, hands fisted around the bedding.
Her fall back onto the mattress was graceless and boneless, but
she did not care, mind and body still swirling with the intensity
of her orgasm.
Mulder followed her down, his head resting on her pelvis, one
hand stroking her thigh soothingly. "Mmmmm, Scully," he murmured.
"I love how you taste, and I love how you come."
At his words, another flicker of arousal chased through her still
pulsing center, and her lower body twitched. "God, Mulder...
that was...that was..." Where was her brain? She couldn't think
of the right words to describe what he had done for her. "Oh hell,
that was wonderful," she finished at last, with a gusty sigh.
"Yes, it was," he said, and after pressing a kiss just to the side
of her neatly trimmed triangle of curls, he started to crawl up her
body. "And this will be too."
*This* was his cock, pressing now into her thigh, hard and hot.
Scully instinctively shifted, her motion nudging his erection into
the vee of her legs. They both hissed, and then Mulder's mouth
descended onto hers, tongue pushing in to sweep the insides, just
as the head of his cock slipped between her folds.
She tasted herself on his lips and tongue, heavy and musky, and
heady, and her hands swept up and down his back, her legs wrapping
around his waist. One of his hands was at her left hip, the other
lying palm down on the mattress by her right side, supporting his
weight. Scully could feel his muscles trembling with the effort of
holding himself still, so she whispered, "Inside me, please,
Mulder," and pushed on his back to bring him tightly against her.
He groaned, "Scuhleee," and slid the hand on her hip underneath to
palm her lower back, tilting her pelvis up. At the same time, he
thrust strongly with his hips, burying himself to the hilt inside
her.
Even though she was wet from her orgasm, and highly aroused, she
could not help tensing. It had been some time, longer than she
wanted to admit, since she had had a man inside her body, not to
mention the fact that Mulder was very well endowed. She felt very,
very full - he stretched her completely - and there had been a
brief flash of pain when he had thrust the whole length of his
cock into her.
"Scully?" Mulder whispered into the flesh of her neck, his voice
tight. "Are you...is this okay?"
She half-laughed, half-moaned. "It's just...been a while, that's
all."
"Tell me about it," he said wryly. His breath was hot beneath
her hear as he exhaled heavily. "I'm afraid if either one of us
moves, it will be over before it starts."
Such honesty overwhelmed her, and she spontaneously clenched her
inner muscles around his cock, and a flood of moisture lubricated
their sexes.
"Scuhleee," Mulder groaned, and it sounded like her name had been
gritted through his teeth. He thrust strongly in reaction, the
head of his cock bumping her cervix.
"Oooohhh, Mulder," she sighed, and wiggled her hips in an invitation
for him to move.
Which he graciously excepted, beginning to rock gently within her,
sending little darts of pleasure throughout her core. She could
feel her inner walls fluttering and throbbing around his cock, and
she rocked in unison with him.
Soon though, they both felt the need to move faster, and harder,
and his plunges became more wild, less controlled, as did her
answering thrusts. Her heels dug into the dip of his spine, just
above the swell of his beautiful ass, trying to push him even
deeper, and her fingernails raked up and down his sweat-slicked
back. She was chanting too, a litany of words and sounds.
"GodMulderdon'tstopohthatfeelssogoodMulderohGod."
He was responding in kind, with a song of his own. "Scullyohbaby,
sogoodsogoodScuhleee..." His face was no longer buried in her
neck, but just above hers, his warm breath washing over her.
The waves were building again, getting stronger and stronger, the
pleasure swirling tighter and tighter, and Scully knew it wouldn't
be long. But she wanted him to fly with her, and tried to warn
him, though she knew he had to be feeling her orgasm gathering and
pulsing around his thrusting cock. "Mulder...I'm going to..." she
started to say, when the next wave threw her over the top. "Oh,
God, Mulder, I'm coming..." the sentence ended on a wail as her
back arched impossibly high and her insides spasmed. "Mulder, I
love you!" she cried then, and knew it for the truth, something
she had resisted admitting to herself.
She was unsure as to whether it was her orgasm, or the words she
had cried, but whatever it had been, it pushed Mulder over the
cliff. He began to buck wildly as he ejaculated in hot, streaming
spurts, groaning her name with his head thrown back. Then he
slumped down over her, his head once again buried in her neck.
His cock continued to twitch occasionally, as her own inner walls
still fluttered periodically, and his hips moved lazily.
Finally he moved, lifting his head, his hands coming up to frame
her face. Their noses almost touched and his eyes bored into hers.
"I love you too, Scully, more than I know how to say with mere
words." He leaned in closer, rubbing her nose with his. "This...
us, together, was incredible."
"Mm-hmmm," she murmured, hugging him tightly to her. She felt
so good, so alive, and not just from the fantastic sex and her
two orgasms. "It was. It will be."
***
Half an Hour Later
They were still snuggled together in post-coital bliss some time
later. She was lying along his side, her head on his chest and
his arm around her shoulders, in a similar position to the one
that had started everything not too long ago.
Mulder shifted slightly, and beneath her cheek, Scully felt and
heard the rumble as he made an odd noise - a curious sort of
humph. She waited, and a few seconds passed before he then said,
"You, of all people Scully, know I've never paid much attention
to rules, but I've got to admit, this room and this bed make a
damn good case for the one about fraternization between male and
female agents."
He sounded dead serious. Somber.
She hadn't been expecting that, lying naked and recently sated at
his side, and her heart started to thud for an entirely different
reason. For the first time in hours, she was no longer hot. In
fact, she was distinctly chilled. And speechless.
Mulder continued on, seemingly unaware of the woman who had gone
as still as a statue against him, frozen in place. "What I mean,
Scully, is that two agents of the opposite sex sharing this hotel
room was an invitation to trouble. And considering what just
happened between us, we proved that most definitively."
She lifted her head, coming up on her elbow, and gaped at him.
His face was as serious as his voice had been. The weight of his
arm around her shoulders suddenly felt too heavy to be borne. She
could barely breathe, could feel her body tightening, getting ready
to pull away from him.
But something in his eyes stopped her. There was a glimmer there,
a shine, a hint of humor that belied his words.
Scully's narrowed her eyes and frowned. The bas-. She bit back
the word she had started to call him in her head, for it wasn't a
nice one, and took a deep breath. "Mulder..." The very way she
said his name, it could have been that halted utterance.
His arm tightened around her and he smiled at her. "I had you
big time," he intoned teasingly, and brought his other hand up to
cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.
Inwardly she heaved out a huge sigh of relief, but kept her face
stern, almost expressionless. Payback time, buddy. He *had* gotten
her big time, but she wasn't letting him off the hook that easily
- she had been starting to believe that he was regretting what they
had done.
When she merely continued to stare at him, giving him her best blank
face, her enigmatic face, Mulder's smile slid away, and he laughed
nervously. "Scully?" he said, squeezing her shoulder and jiggling
her slightly. "Come on, that was a good one." She barely blinked.
"Scully?" he repeated, a bit plaintively. "Hey, come on, I was just
teasing you."
She waited for another half-minute, watching the frown gather on his
forehead and his lips tighten. Then she spoke.
"I'll show you teasing," she purred, and pounced. She dove her head
down to capture his mouth in a hard, hot kiss. At the same time, she
slid her hand down his chest and belly, using her nails to scratch
lightly at his skin, until she had her fingers wrapped firmly around
his cock.
His abdominal muscles had flexed and bunched, and his hips thrust
upwards, his cock already starting to harden. She broke the kiss,
lifting her head slightly, and nipped his bottom lip, none too gently.
Her thumb swept over the head of his cock, and his whole body bucked
beneath hers.
"Scuhleee," he groaned. His hands clamped onto her hips, and he
thrust against her again. He still tried to stay in control,
leering, "You can tease me anytime, baby."
"Oh, I will," she told him. "You can count on it." She shot him a
wicked grin and seductively crooned, "It's my turn to taste *you*."
With that, she started to shimmy down his body, dragging her lips and
tongue along his now quivering flesh.
His hissing moan was her reward.
As her lips closed over a taut nipple, she had enough focus left to
muse over something Mulder had said earlier, with a slight variation.
Things can only get better.
THE END
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