Title: La Vie de Sang
Author: Elizabeth L. Iacono
Rating: R
Category: Vignette, Romance
Keywords: MSR
Spoilers: None
Summary: "But instinct, like the instinct
that guided their frantic movements,
took over, and the choice to resist was lost."
Archive: I'll send to Gossamer, Spookys,
Ephemeral, anyone else please ask first.
Feedback: Is always adored, even if I'm slow
to responding to it. ;-) RhiaRamsay@aol.com
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I wish they were.
La Vie de Sang
Elizabeth L. Iacono
The white enamel of his teeth glided along the
damp skin of her neck, pushing the fine gold
chain that dangled there out of the way. He
could feel the blood rushing through the veins
beneath, speeding through her body with the
intensity of their actions. Bodies moved in
an immortal dance, shifting and sliding amongst
the bed sheets.
He buried his nose in her neck as her fingernails
scored the muscles in his back, and he moaned low
in his throat. The moan vibrated through her
skin, and the pressure of her nails increased,
an unending circle.
Hardened flesh merged with skin like wet silk,
and gasps arose from the two entwined figures.
Buried deep inside her, he could practically feel
the flames lapping at his back. If he concentrated,
he could see the little wisps of steam rising off
of their skins.
Movements hastened, driving towards the inevitable
peak, and he felt the urge come over him again.
As hard as he tried to stave it off every time they
engaged in this dance, it had an undeniable pull
over his soul, just like she did. He tried to push
the urge back, hoping that this one time, just this
once during their lovemaking, he could stop himself.
But instinct, like the instinct that guided their
frantic movements, took over, and the choice to
resist was lost to him. His body began to shake
and shudder, as he buried his head in her neck once
more. The tip of his tongue flicked out against the
steaming skin, testing the waters, tasting the salt
and the undercurrents of blood and passion.
He rubbed his bared teeth carefully against the
pulsing vein there, using moves designed to arouse,
and to distract. Without warning his teeth sharply
sunk into her skin, and the blood gushed out and
around his mouth. Through half closed eyes he
could see the crimson streams painting her skin
in delicate ribbons.
The blood coursed through his system, mingling
with his own. Viscous liquid flowed over his
tongue almost as fast as he could gulp it down.
Somewhere, in a distant part of his brain not
clouded by the bloodrush, he registered a stinging
pain on the side of his own neck. Sympathy pains,
he supposed, as he gave himself over to ecstasy.
* * *
The first rays of morning light found him, and
Mulder peeled back his eyelids, which retreated
hastily to a squint at the sudden onslaught of
sunlight. With a resigned sigh, he licked away
the last traces of blood on his teeth, and his
gaze wandered over to Scully's bare back, heaving
up and down with the movements of deep slumber.
His eyes lingered on her exposed neck, where there
was no trace of what had happened the night before.
His hand moved to rub his own smooth, unbroken neck.
Of course, he felt bad about what he was doing to
her, but he knew that it was uncontrollable.
Mulder knew for a fact that 'it' had never happened
with anyone else he had been with, just Scully.
Maybe it was a testament to the power of his love
for her.
If so, it was a pretty fucked up testament.
Maybe someday I'll tell her, Mulder thought
as he drifted back to sleep.
From her own side of the bed, still deeply
enshrouded in sleep, Scully's hand stole upwards
to wipe one last offending streak of blood from
her lip. The words 'Maybe someday I'll tell him',
wandered through her mind as she kept on dreaming.