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Title: Souls Embracing (1/1)
Author: Chey Burgess
E-mail: jrmyb@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Category: SR
Spoilers: None Keywords: MSR
Summary: Early morning, rain on the roof, warm partner - who wouldn't take
advantage? Mulder POV.

Author's Notes:  Ok, so it's smut...but it's loving smut :o)A big hug and
kiss to Lena at the BRC who held my hand while I jumped.

Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, etc. etc.

At 1.05am I am lying on Scully's couch, channel surfing with the mute on.
Sleep is evading me, which is nothing new, except I can't think of any
reason
for it tonight.  Life is probably as good as it's ever going to get.
Scully's alive, I'm alive, we're together and no one's trying to kill us -
that we know of.  I consider that a pretty damn good day.

Julie Andrew's is singing about kittens and raindrops.  Well, I can't
actually hear the words, but I know that's what they are because I've sat
through this movie twice.  Once to impress some girl in college, and then
again about a year ago with Scully, just because it was nice to be near
her.
My heart smiles at the thought that I don't need an excuse anymore.

I press the remote.  Foreign news.  Looks like Russian if the reporter's
name
in the bottom left corner is anything to go by.  Krycek appears in my head
and I mentally slap myself before any coherent thoughts about him take
hold.
Flick.  Hockey.   Not really my game, but I leave it in anticipation of a
little gratuitous violence.  Hey, it can be entertaining when I'm not on
the
receiving end.  I imagine Scully's reaction to that thought - the
expression
that says, "Mulder, you're not serious."

As if my thoughts beckoned her, she appears in the doorway, scowling
sleepily
as she rubs one eye with the back of her hand.  In pale pink boxers and a
matching top, with copper hair hanging in her eyes, she looks about ten
years
old.  I feel a tug in my groin.  Hmm,  I'll analyse *that* embarrassing
association later.

"Hey,"  I greet her softly.  She doesn't answer.

This just-woken-up-Scully is one I find particularly endearing.  I know
from
experience that her mind is completely with it the second she awakes,
alertness is drummed into both of us by our work.  In the absence of a
threat, however, Scully's emotional and motor skills take a while to catch
up
with her cognitive ability.

Through squinted eyes, she stumbles her way toward me and collapses
clumsily
onto the couch beside me.  I watch in amusement as she grumpily pushes my
bent knee down flat and climbs on top of me, straddling me with bent legs,
and flops her upper body against mine.

I allow myself an indulgent smile at her child-like invasion of my space.
This Scully did not exist for me a few months ago, except for an unguarded
moment now and then when the pressures of our world managed to briefly
penetrate her protective walls.  Nothing like she allows me to see now.
Nothing like this totally unguarded innocence.

I wait while she settles herself, a knee on either side of my hips, arms
hugged into my sides, chest against my stomach, cheek against my chest.  My

little Scully barnacle.

The first time she positioned herself on me like this, I jokingly asked if
that's what she was trying to be.  She had hesitated for  a long moment and
I
thought she wasn't going to bother with a  reply.  Then, without looking at

me, she had quietly said,  "I can hear your heart...and I feel safe."

My throat still constricts when I think about it.  If I didn't know Scully,
I
might have been deceived by the simplicity of her statement, might have
though it just a sweet compliment.  But the reality of  Scully admitting
that
she sometimes feels the need to be protected, despite all the fierce
denials
in the past, floored me.  Mind you, she doesn't show that vulnerability
often, usually only in this semi-conscious state after waking.

I look down at her face pressed against my chest.  Her eyes stare at the
television but I know they aren't really seeing the flickering images.  She

is a blink away from sleep.

I raise my leg again, shifting to make myself comfortable now that she  has

settled.  Her weight is slight and mostly distributed on her legs anyway.

Her face is vacant, expressionless and I  wonder how long she can keep her
eyes open.  I know she has come to find me because, on some barely
conscious
level, she's worried that I'm not sleeping.  I decide to hurry things along
-
she should sleep, even if I can't.

I tug gently at the bottom of her pajama top, sliding the silk up to expose

the skin of her back.  Using the tips only, I trail my fingers lightly up
the
length of her spine.  The effect is instantaneous.  She draws a deep breath

and releases it as a sigh.  Her eyelids close and all her muscles go
completely slack.

To many people, this would be a kind of torture akin to being tickled with
a
feather.  For Scully it is instant bliss.  Apparently, Mrs Scully used this

method to soothe her children to sleep and the effect has lasted.  There
isn't a place on Scully's body where it will make her squirm.  And don't
think I haven't searched.  Still, it is a useful trick; to know how to turn

an irritable, restless Scully into a calm, almost comatose one, in a matter

of seconds.

She is asleep.  I continue my ministrations anyway, enjoying the feel of
her
softness under my fingertips.  I turn my head and look at the tv, watching
but not really seeing.  I listen to her soft, steady breath and feel the
gently rise and fall of her chest.  Soothing her has had a soporific effect

on me also.  My eyelids droop and I sleep.


******************

I wake to the sound of heavy rain.  It must be early morning because I can
make out all the furniture but nothing has color or detail.  I am on my
side
with Scully snuggled up to my chest, our legs entwined.  Nice. Cozy.

Possibly I could lie here forever, listening to the soothing pounding of
water on the roof, drifting back and forth between sleep and consciousness.

That might be possible...if it weren't for Scully's warm breath which just
happens to be blowing against my left nipple.

This time I choose not to ignore the feelings stirring deep in my belly.  I

want to touch her, and I can, so I do.  Sliding my hand under her boxers, I

run my fingers lightly over the skin where her thigh meets her ass.   She
sighs, still not really awake.

"Scu-lleee,"  I cajole softly.

A small groan of protest at being pulled from a place of presumably
peaceful
dreams rumbles in her throat.

I go for the kill early on, taking her earlobe between my teeth and tugging

gently before sucking firmly for a few seconds.  Knowledge of your lover's
most sensitive places is a definite must.

"Wanna play?"  I whisper in her ear.

One eye opens slowly and fixes me with the 'I know exactly what you're up
to'
look, albeit softened slightly by sleep.  I give her my most innocent 'who,

me?' expression in return.

One azure eye, made gray by the dim light, rolls in mock exasperation.

She knows I use her erogenous zones to my advantage, but she allows it
because it's mutually beneficial.

However, sleep still seems like a more inviting prospect and, although
she's
letting my off lightly for waking her, she's not exactly thrilled either.

"Raining, Mulder.  Early.  Sleep."  she grumbles into my chest, eye
closing.

"But I'm not tired."   I am ignored.

I smooth the palm of my hand in slow circles over the one butt cheek I can
reach.

No reaction.  I take this as a good sign.  Scully often needs 'warm-up
time'
and spends most of it in her head.   She is a prime example of someone
whose
brain is their most important sex organ.

My hand encounters the crease of her ass and follows it down, then back up,

the material of her boxers slippery against my fingers.

Was that a twitch?

Ever the answer seeker, I do it again, this time pressing a little harder
through  the fabric.

Yep, definitely a muscle clench there, albeit so slight I would've missed
it
were I not anticipating it.  This is good.  I file this new spot away for
future use under 'Things That Please Scully Sexually'.  I repeat the motion

once more, this time continuing down between her thighs and upwards.  It's
not an easy maneuver but the reward is worth it.

She's wet - she's very wet.  My semi-hard on  becomes steel in about a
microsecond.  I update that earlier file to 'Things That Make Scully Horny
as
Hell' as I slide my middle finger forward even further, lining the moist
slit
with slippery silk, pressing lightly against her clitoris.

A soft gasp, a moan I can barely hear and I'm gone.  Thoughts of a slow,
teasing seduction are replaced with a burning need to feel her without the
barrier of silk between us.

Grabbing her behind the knee, I hitch her leg up over my hip, providing
more
room between her spread thighs for the hand I snake between our bodies and
down the front of her shorts.  For the first time she joins in.  Her tongue

flicks against the nipple that started this whole thing.  She sucks on it
as
I thrust a finger inside her and I am left gasping.
 She makes a noise of frustration and presses her pelvis into me.  "More,"
she is saying silently, "Not enough."

I know what she wants but I ask her anyway.  "What Scully?  What do you
want?"

"You!" she breathes out, her little hand sliding between my boxers and my
ass, trying to pull them down.  She succeeds at the back and is working on
the front when I slide a second and third finger inside her, pushing deep
like I know she wants my cock to.

"Uh...oh," is all she gets out, her mission forgotten as her eyes close and

her head tips back, exposing her throat.  I imagine taking that vulnerable
skin between my lips and nipping it, sucking it, marking her as mine.  My
hips thrust instinctively at the thought of figuratively branding Scully
with
'property of Fox Mulder'.  Just call me Neanderthal.  Unfortunately, I
can't
reach there in my present position anyhow, so I put that thought aside for
later.

A groan escapes my lips.  She has regained enough sense to remember her
task.
 Her warm hand is firmly milking my cock, pulling up and sliding down,
while
her thumb plays particular attention the sensitive spot on the underside.
Trust Dr. Scully to know about the frenulum and what it does to me when she

massages there.

She guides my hard cock to the gaping inner leg of her shorts, intent on
replacing my fingers.

"No!"  I pull my fingers from her and grasp her wrist.  As much as I want
to
rip off her clothes and pound her, I want to draw this out a little longer.

I rejected her too sharply.  She is motionless, her face bewildered.  I
bring
my hand to her cheek.  Her skin is hot and damp with perspiration.  Thin
tendrils of hair stick to her forehead and temples.  They make me smile.

"Not yet,"  I say softly, trying to get my breath back.  Sitting up, I
untangle myself from her and get off the couch.  She groans her disapproval

and I share her reluctance to part, but I'm after a more intimate kind of
contact.  "Sit up."

She does, pushing a damp lock of hair off her face and looking up at me
expectantly.  Our eyes lock as I nudge her knees apart with mine and settle

to the floor between her legs.  Her chest begins to rise and fall a little
quicker - she knows what's coming.

I run my hands up her calves to her knees and push them apart roughly.
She
draws a sharp breath.  I keep my eyes on hers as I lower my mouth to her
slowly.  She jerks as the tip of my tongue touches the material stretched
taut across her clit.  I flick my tongue lightly a couple of times and
listen
with pleasure as her breath stops, then starts again in short gasps.

Her hand flies to my head and her hips arch in an attempt at stronger
contact.  I pull back.

"Uh-uh."

"Mul-der,"  she pleads in a whisper.

"Undo your shirt, Scully."

"Mul-"

"Now, Scully."

She groans in frustration but complies, her hands working feverishly to get

the small buttons undone.  In the growing light, I watch as a strip of skin

appears down her middle.  My thumbs make small circles on her inner thighs
as
she slips the last button through its hole.

"Open it."  My breathing now matches hers as the power of watching Scully
respond to my demands goes straight to my cock.

She pulls the silk apart, revealing her firm, white breasts, pink nipples
already erect.  Oh man.  I want them.  I want to feel those rigid peaks
against my tongue.  I want to suck hard and make her whimper.
I stay put.

"Do it, Scully.  You know what I want."  My voice is thick.

Without any preliminaries, she takes her nipples between her thumbs and
forefingers and tugs firmly, stretching, rolling, pulling.   She sighs as
her
head falls back and her eyes close.

Fuck.  I am so turned on I feel like I could come just watching her.
Instead, I slip my hands under to grip her ass and pull it toward my
lowered
head, spreading her legs wide with my elbows.  I descend, open-mouthed,
onto
her crotch, adding my saliva to the already soaking silk.

I lave her from her opening to her clitoris - hard.

"Ohh."  Her hands speed up.  I repeat it. Again, and again.  Finally, I
latch
on and just suck.

And she is coming, her entire body tense, every muscle clenched tight.  One

hand leaves her breast to grab a fistful of my hair as she lets out a high
pitched, thin, keening noise.

"Muuuuldeeeeeer!"

Oh fuck.  I am so close.  Hearing my name like that nearly does me in, but
I
manage to hold back as her muscles begin to relax a little.  Mine, however,

are a different story.  I want her.  I want her bad.  I want to rip her
boxers off and hammer myself into her.  Luckily, we're on the same
wavelength.

"Oh, God, Mulder.  Fuck me.  I want you so far inside me-"

I don't hear the rest.  I'm on my knees pulling off her boxers.  It's
ironic
that the very act of Scully talking dirty to me for the first time is
rendering me totally unable to concentrate on a single word she says.

I am dimly aware that the couch is not good enough.  I want her in a place
where there is absolutely no give to stop me from pounding her hard.  We've

made love, we've had wild, passionate sex, but we've never fucked before.
She wants to be fucked and I want to do it right.

I pull her onto my lap and swivel around holding her against me with one
hand, while I lower us both to the floor with the other.  There's a moment
of
frustration as I struggle to get my own shorts down.  As I push them to my
knees, I feel a small hand grasp my erection and tug gently.

No, no, no.  Not good.  Extra stimulation is the last thing I need.  I grab

her wrist and lunge forward on all fours above her, trapping both hands
against the floor beside her head.

Leaning forward, I take a slow moment moving my hip to ensure the tip of
my
cock is in the right position, then I drive into her - hard, fast, once,
twice.  The sharp intake of her breath at my forceful penetration excites
me
even more.  Letting go of her wrists, I hook my elbows behind her knees,
opening her as wide as her considerable flexibility allows.  I take a
second
to look at her face, flushed and damp.  Her eyes are closed and she has an
expression which almost indicates pain.  I know that's not the case, but I
want to see her eyes anyway.

"Scully, " I pant hoarsely.

Her eyes open and focus glassily on me.  Holy shit.  She's close to coming
-
again.

This is a surprise.  Scully has never been multi-orgasmic. When she asked
me
to fuck her, I knew it was for my benefit; she wanted to give me what I had

just given her.  A few seconds ago I had been more than ready to accept.
Now
I am determined to hold off.  I want to see Scully lose it again.

Capturing her wrists once again, I bring her arms down straight to her
sides
so she is now completely under my control.  I resume my thrusting,
penetrating deeply in this new position.  We groan in unison.  I am
incredibly turned on by the dominance I have over her...so is she, it
seems.

"Is this what you want, Scully?  Do you like it? Do you like being fucked
like this?" My tone demands answers.

"Uhh."  Her head rolls sideways.

"C'mon Scully.  Talk to me.  You like it don't you?  You like having my
cock
inside you."

She lets out a sob, coherent speech gone.

Wow.   I relent a little.

"You feel so good, Scully."  I am rewarded with another sob, this time
mixed
with my name.  Sweat runs in little trickles between her breasts as she
uses
her stomach muscles to try and meet my thrusts.  She has no hope, not in
the
position I've got her in.

"Open your eyes, Scully.  I want you to watch me fuck you."

Somehow she drags her eyelids open, looks down to where I am slamming into
her body, then gives up and closes her eyes with a groan.  I look down too
and watch as my thick shaft pistons in and out of her wet center.  The rush

of arousal that sight brings me catches me unaware and I almost explode
then
and there.  Gritting my teeth, I refuse to let that happen.  She is so
close,
so close.  I can't bring her here and not take her all the way.  How can I
deny her what she is struggling so hard to achieve?

I feel a sudden sweet pang of love as I watch her battle to reach that
final
peak.  I have no hands to help her...only my voice.

"I'm gonna come so hard in you Scully.  Do it with me,"  I urge, "Let's do
it
together right now."

Her muscles tighten and she tries to move her hand to grip me as her orgasm

begins, but I hold it down, refusing to give her control.  That does it for

her.  She succumbs with a strangled cry and two seconds later I am right
there with her and neither of us is breathing and nothing ever felt this
good
and *oh, God* it's not stopping...

The sound of heavy rain drumming on the roof gradually seeps into my mind
as
I realise I have been in the same position, not moving, for a few minutes
now.  I slowly lift my head to find Scully watching me, breathing slow,
deep
breaths.  I get a weary smile, which I return.

I realise she can't move and taking my weight off her wrists, I lean back,
withdrawing from her slowly.  She winces as she brings her legs together -
major muscle trauma there - hope we don't have to run for our lives any
time
soon.

The room remains dim, despite the arrival of morning, thanks to the rain.
Bed weather.  We make it to the bathroom with our last remaining energy
where
we stand in a motionless embrace under the hot water, letting it wash away
the evidence of our activities and soothe our aching muscles.

Five minutes later we are curled up under the covers facing each other as
we
drift off.  Legs just touching, hands clasped, souls embracing.

                       **********************
End

Feedback: All thoughts ecstatically received :o)

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