Rambling Diatribe

So, when she got home she made a direct beeline to her bathroom, bath salts and water running, candles lit, quiet jazz on the radio, and it was only as she was half stripped that she checked the temperature of the water: found it icy.

Her blouse and slacks dragged back on, taps turned off, she made her harried way down to the superintendent’s apartment, angrily banged on his door. Problem with the gas line; the furnace was out, whole building had no heating or hot water – he’d tried calling on her when it went out Tuesday, but nobody had been home. A begrudging nod, a suggestion that she could stay at a friend’s.

A growl as she slammed the door to her apartment shut, stormed back through to the bathroom and pulled the plug. She filled the kettle before remembering the stove wasn’t going to work. Wine, then, would have to do. A bottle of red and a glass. There was still jazz filtering through the air, and she bypassed the living room in preference for her bedroom, not bothering with turning the lights on and placing the bottle and glass on the table with slightly more force than necessary.

Her clothes were shucked off, chucked to the corner of the room with little care. Without even needing to look, her hand delved into the drawer of her side table, her fingers wrapping around smooth silicone.

With a sigh of relief she pulled her vibrator out, pressing the button to activate the blissful hum of-

Nothing.

‘Fuck,’ she growled, returning to her drawer to dig around for new batteries. Empty. A frustrated groan and she was up, storming through her apartment to her desk, riffling through the drawers and coming up blank, moving to her kitchen and rummaging until she cried eureka with the discovery of the last in a pack of Energizers.

The pain as she stubbed her toe on her run into her bedroom caused an angry scream, but she was tempered by the hope of the quick change over and she pressed the button again. And again, nothing. A growl and she unscrewed the cap again, flipped the battery the other way up. Nothing.

‘Fuck!’

She dragged on her robe, trudged back to the kitchen. She set herself up at the table with her wine and her father’s old tool box she kept under the sink, carefully prying the motor from its silicone housing; started by testing each of the connections. What was the use of a degree in physics if she couldn’t fix her vibrator when she really needed it?

It looked like a faulty wire, one that could be fixed with some delicate soldering. A ten minute job, tops. And then there was a rap at the door and her hand slipped, and all hope of delicate work was gone. With a fortifying slug of wine to bolster her reserve and her robe pulled tighter, she went to the door and yanked it open, wasn’t even given a chance to sigh exasperatedly and ask what he was doing there before Mulder started a tirade of insistences of the impossible, barging past her and into the light-filled kitchen.

She slumped back into her chair, rubbed her forehead wearily as he paced, his excitement building exponentially. Well, that was until he actually looked at her, at the tools she had spread out on the table and her broken vibrator, ‘am I interrupting something?’

She sighed, ‘when aren’t you, Mulder? No. No, doesn’t look like you’re interrupting anything tonight.’

He looked away, scratched the back of his neck, ‘I’ll go.’

‘No. No, sorry, look, what were you talking about?’

‘The possibility of-’ he cut himself off, pointing down at her vibrator, ‘is there any hope of fixing it?’

‘No, not anymore.’

‘Overuse, or-?’ it was out before he could stop it, his eyes locking with hers and widening the minute he said it.

‘Mulder!’ she scolded, cheeks colouring for the first time that evening, finally letting her frustrations ebb into embarrassment.

‘Sorry,’ he swallowed thickly, looked away, ‘I’ll, uh, I’ll just leave you to it.’

She stood, avoided eye contact and nodded, walked him to the door and held it open for him. He was one step out of the apartment when her hand darted out, wrapped around his forearm with a quiet, ‘Mulder, wait-’

‘Scully?’

‘I...’ there was a quiver in her voice, a hesitation, ‘stay.’

He frowned, brow furrowed, a quieter ‘Scully?’ whispering past his lips.

She bit her lip, fiddled with the tie of her robe, ‘stay. I’ve got wine, and I could do with the company.’

‘Not had enough of my company over the last week?’

She didn’t have an answer, just shrugged and shook her head, taking his hand into her own and leading him back into her living room. With him perched on the sofa, a little uncomfortably by the hunched shoulders and shifty eyes, she disappeared into the kitchen to retrieve her wine and an extra glass, the bottle cradled precariously in the crook of her arm. She poured, handing him his glass and nodding when he tapped it to hers with a clonk, raising it slightly before taking a sip and giving a nod and a grimace.

'Good stuff.'

'You hate it,' she gave, trying to hide the smile that threatened to break out across her face.

'I don't hate it. I'm just not really a wine guy.'

'You grew up on the Vineyard - how can you not be a wine guy?'

He shrugged, 'it doesn't actually have vineyards. Well, it has one now, but it's not historically had vineyards. Besides, Mom preferred gin and dad liked scotch. Wine wasn't the priority of the drinks cabinet.'

'Is that why you don't really drink now?'

He snorted, 'what, 'cause ma and pa were alcoholics?'

'I didn't-'

'I just never found a taste for it,' he shrugged, waving her off with a smile. 'Besides, when you spend your first legal drinking years in England, there's not much America can do for you after that.'

'We have parties here, too, you know.'

'Oh, I'm aware. But the English drink like that when they're not partying. We had one professor who'd hold his seminars in the pub. Eleven in the morning and we'd all be sat around with pints writing notes on behavioural psychology. I don't think I ever saw him in a classroom.'

She hummed and they lapsed into silence, staring at anything but one another. She drained her glass and placed it on the coffee table, shifting to study his profile. 'Why'd you come here, Mulder?'

He gave a shrug, placing his half-full glass next to hers. 'I wanted to talk to you about-'

'You could have just called,' she cut him off with a shake of her head. 'You do this, you drive across town just because you wanted to talk, at what anybody else in the universe would consider to be an insanely anti-social time to knock on somebody's door, and then what you want to talk about is completely inconsequential to anything, and could have at least waited 'til morning.'

He cleared his throat, swallowed thickly, and gave a tight nod, 'I should go.'

'Wait,' her hand landed on his upper thigh before she'd even decided to let it do that, and she carefully licked her lips, 'I just want to know why, Mulder.'

'Does there have to be a reason?'

'I think so, yes.' He remained silent, staring at her hand on his thigh, and she rubbed her thumb slowly up and down in what she hoped was a comforting gesture, 'do you know why I always end up letting you in when you knock at this time of night?'

'Because you know otherwise I'll just use my key?'

'Well, there is that. But it's mostly because I like seeing you. I'm glad to see you. I want to see you. Even when I don't, I actually do.'

He hesitated a glance up, met her smile with his own, 'I don't know that I know what you're saying, Scully.'

'You need me to spell it out?'

'I think that might be best, just so there are no misunderstandings.'

She nodded, considering him for a long moment, 'I think,' she cleared her throat and resisted reaching for the bottle of wine, took a breath and started again, 'I find you attractive. And you are, maybe, my only friend. You are, in fact, one of the only people in my life I enjoy being around these days. And, in about thirty seconds, I'm going to kiss you. Unless you stop me, of course.'

A shy grin bloomed across his face as she leaned towards him, daring him to look away with a coy spark in her eye.

'Ten seconds to say no, Mulder,' she breathed, her palm finding his cheek, catching on his stubble as her thumb rubbed under his cheekbone.

The tart taste of red wine lingered on his lips, with the distant memory of salty sunflower seeds, as she ghosted her open mouth across his, darting her tongue out in a flick, encouraging him to open up, before capturing that enticing lower lip between her teeth. He allowed her to take the lead, not exactly passively, but letting her take exactly what she wanted. When she shifted to her knees on the sofa beside him, his hands found her hips, thumbs pressing into the dips of her thighs through her robe, and she moaned sinfully into his mouth.

A gasp was drawn from him when she pulled away from his mouth, working biting, sucking kisses along his jaw bone and down his neck as he tilted his head back. When she slung her leg over his, sliding into his lap with a happy little moan, his fingers dug harder into her ass and he recaptured her lips, grinning into the kiss. When her hips started grinding down on him, her hands reaching for the tie of her robe, he pulled back with a 'wait, wait, Scully, just-' his thumb tracing her swollen lips as his forehead dropped to hers, 'need to know, are you drunk?'

'Nowhere near,' she murmured, rolling her hips and leaning forward again, only to have him pull back. She tried to mask the hurt when he held her at distance, tried to bite back bitter tears that were threatening to spring forward as a heavy weight settled in her chest. He studied her face, his eyes running across her features, analysing her, and as her cheeks warmed under his scrutinising gaze, she tried to pull her face from his grasp, but he held firm.

'I don't want a drunken fuck on your couch, Scully.' She cleared her throat, nodded, went to slide off him, and his hands tightened on her. 'Where d'you think you're going?'

'You said-'

'I know. And you're not drunk. I just want you to know that that's not what I want.'

Maybe she was drunk, because he wasn't making sense. She puffed out a breath, blowing her hair from her face, tried to focus on anything but the feel of him solid and warm between her thighs.

'I don't want our first time to be on the couch.'

Oh. Oh.

A smile bloomed across her face, bright and open, as she brushed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nuzzled her nose into his cheek, dragged her lips to his ear, 'take me to bed, Mulder.' She kissed him, softer this time, gentler, a promise of more to come. There was little grace when she stood, her foot getting tangled in her robe, knocking the coffee table and setting the glasses there awobbling. She bit her lip, cheeks flushed with warmth and nerves, and he stood to tower over her, an affectionate smile as he tilted her chin up with his fingers. His thumb rubbed across her lower lip, pressed against it until her mouth parted and she touched the tip of her tongue to it, locking her eyes with his as she drew his digit into her mouth and sucked.

There would be no going back from this, if only because she now knew just how easy it was to make Fox Mulder whimper.

There was no shyness, no anxiety lingering in the pit of her stomach, as she took his hand and led him through to her bedroom. No shame as she sat him on her bed and stood before him, peeling off her robe and revealing the whole of herself to him.

His breath caught, a shuddering gasp as he took her in. 'No underwear, Scully?'

'Well, you did rather interrupt me in the middle of something,' a quick quirk of her lips to reassure him she wasn't that mad, and then she was settling herself on his lap, knees besides his hips and dainty fingers tilting his chin up to meet her in a deep, searching kiss. She whined when she lowered her weight and her core met with the coarse, stiff peak of his erection through his jeans, the denim far too rough to grind against with any satisfaction, and with only a small amount of regret she pulled away from him, tugged up his t-shirt like he was a gift to unwrap. He had a beautiful torso - she'd always thought so - something one might find sculpted out of marble in a museum. He wasn't bulky, or overly chiselled, but the wiry muscles that bound his body flowed and rippled under his skin, fascia twisting in such an enticing way. Strong and athletic, a swimmers body, toned for aerodynamics.

She trailed sweet, exploratory kisses down his torso, her tongue flashing out to run across a collar bone, the nip of her teeth just beside a nipple. When she couldn't reach any further with her mouth, she slipped from his lap to the floor, changing her focus from his chest to the fly of his jeans. Nimble fingers, surgeon's fingers, unbuttoned him and she dragged his zipper down slowly, a wicked smile playing at the corners of her lips as he leaned himself back on his hands, never taking his eyes from her. His breathing had picked up, shaky as he strained to keep his hips from flexing.

With a coy smile she peeled his jeans off of him, revealing his boxer-clad erection to the room with a satisfied hum. When they got tangled around his feet he toed his shoes off, helped her shake his pants from his legs, whimpered when she pushed his legs apart and knelt herself between them. Light from the bathroom filtered through, warm and dim as it reflected in his blown-out eyes, a shudder rattling him as she blew a cool stream of air on his inner thigh. Her knuckles, when they brushed his cock through the soft cotton of his boxers, were feather-light, and he twitched and gasped and whimpered. He'd soaked a coin of precome through the heather-grey material, and with an impish glint in her eye she ducked to cover the head of him through the fabric, laying the wet heat of her tongue over him as she got her first taste. A groan emitted from one of them, and she wasn't quite sure who, as she rid him of his boxers, the sight of him proud and solid heating her belly with desire.

She wanted to devour him, consume him whole, lap him up and swallow him down and leave no crumbs. Manicured fingers wrapped around him, touching for the first time his silky-soft velvet heat, marvelling at the weight and girth of him in her hand. The muscles in his thighs were taut with the effort of restraining the rhythmic flexing his hips had taken up, just the subtlest of pulses, and she placed her free hand at the top of his thigh, pressing gentle circles into his flesh and hushing him when he started to gasp her name.

The first touch of her lips to his bare cock was gentle, just the most delicate brush of a kiss to the underneath of his shaft. She mouthed her way up him, tracing his prominent vein with the point of her tongue, lathing kisses to the sides of him, flicking little licks at his frenulum, his weaping slit. Through it all he was gasping and panting, putty in her hands as she worked him over.

A litany of cliches echoed through her head as she finally took him fully into her mouth; good catholic girl, daddy issues, dirty little slut. With a final push she reached his base, nose nestled into the musk of his pubic scrub, and she felt herself properly relax for the first time in weeks as her mind cleared and the weight of him soothed her.

His eyes had fallen closed, head lolling back on his neck, and that would never do, so she pulled herself up and off of him with a lewd pop, her saliva stringing to his cock, snapping back against her chin in rivers of drool. 'Hey,' she husked, reaching for his hand with her own, tangling their fingers together, 'look at me.'

'I can't,' he gasped, shook his head blindly, 'I'm so close. Fuck." He huffed a chuckle when she tugged at his hand, pressed a kiss to his palm, and finally looked at her, choking on a gasp. She knew what he must see, pink blotches high on her cheeks and eyes dark and blown to match his own, her mouth a mess of day-old smudged lipstick, his precome and her saliva. She pressed tender lips to his crown, eyes not leaving his, bobbing her head down halfway, guiding the hand in her own to curl in her hair. 'Scully, Scul- Jesus, Scully, I'll come if you continue with that baby, you've gotta stop.'

She pulled off him once more, nuzzled her nose into the flesh of his inner thigh, allowing her tongue to taste each and every inch of him she could find, before she looked up and batted her eyelashes at him, all innocence, 'then come.'

He cried out, fisting her hair in his hand as she engulfed him in the wet heat of her mouth. The twinge of pain that came with him being wedged into her throat soon brought relief as his whole body jerked, the first scalding spurt of him making her gag, and soon she'd pulled up so only his tip was in her mouth as he emptied himself, her hand easing him through it. She licked him clean, wiping her nose and mouth on the back of her hand as she slumped down to her haunches and dropped her head to his knee with a hum, a soft smile lining her lips. Her face fell when his expression crumpled, his hands covering his face.

'Hey,' she rasped, clearing her throat of him as she scrambled up to perch next to him on the edge of her bed, 'Mulder?' All sorts of thoughts rushed through her as his shoulders trembled once, had she hurt him? had she mistaken his consent? did she take it too far? was this not what he'd wanted, after all?

'I didn't want to come.'

That…wasn't what she was expecting. 'You're gonna have to elaborate on that one, Mulder?'

'I didn't want to use you,' he snuffled, scrubbed his face with his hands, 'this was meant to be about you, and I got carried away, and-'

She snorted, 'you think you used me? Mulder, Mulder look at me,' he flashed his eyes up and she gave him a tender smile, 'do I look used? Do I look like I didn't enjoy what I just did? Because, I promise you, I did.'

He gave a half-hearted shrug, 'I wanted you to come first. I wanted- I wanted this to be about you.'

'Okay,' she gave a nod, considering him, 'well, do you want to know what I wanted?' he shrugged and sniffed again, his head dropped in shame. 'I wanted you, Mulder. I still do. In fact, if anything,' she pressed his shoulders back slightly to give herself room to shift into his lap, his softening cock between their bodies, 'if anything, I want you even more now. Do you know how much that turned me on, you coming in my mouth, down my throat?' his glance up at her was hesitant, and she took one of his hands in her own, guiding it down to her swollen cunt. She was soaked, slippery and dripping, when she dragged their joined fingers through herself, moaning when he took the initiative to swirl his fingers through her slip and brush them up to dance around her clit for the briefest of moments before dipping them back down again. 'That's all for you, Mulder.' She whimpered when he drew his fingers up between them, his eyes glittering as he marvelled at the silky texture of her arousal on his fingers, the traceries as he scissored them, the abundance that was running down them. 'And, the best part, Mulder, is that now you can spend all the time in the world focusing on me without being quite so distracted.'

He hummed, sucking his fingers into his mouth, eyes flashing open when Scully replaced them with her tongue, a deep, messy, sliding kiss that had her hips rolling as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 'Have I told you lately,' he gasped as she pulled away for breath, 'how much I love your cold, hard, rational logic?'

She threw her head back with a bark of laughter, cut off by a gasp when his fingers went back to stroking over her pussy, tracing around her labia, through her slit, each pass getting closer and closer to her clit but never quite touching it. Her lips found his again, sloppily chasing after him, trying to grind down on his hand whilst he refused to give her exactly what she wanted. His hand disappeared and she whined, pulling back and pouting, eliciting a chuffed laugh, before she felt his arms wrap around her back, securing her in his lap more firmly as his fingers went back to playing with her from beneath, still nowhere near enough. Her head dropped back on a groan when he dipped a finger in to the knuckle, and he used that opportunity to take a mouthful of breast, scraping his teeth across her nipple and then suckling at it to soothe the bite of pain. The mewl she released was interrupted by her yelp as he stood, lifting her up by the bottoms of her thighs, his mouth never leaving her tit.

Her legs wrapped around him, taking him with her when he lowered her with all the delicacy he could muster to the mattress, and she giggled lightly when they bounced slightly. God, she hadn't heard herself giggle like that in years. What this man did to her, this man who had left her tits in search of the oasis between her thighs. The first lash of his tongue had her arching into him, gripping his short hair in both fists like she'd die if he moved away.

He built her up slowly, testing and exploring and figuring out exactly what made her tick, exactly what made her hips roll and her breath catch and her teeth clench into a stifled cry. She ground herself against his chin when he first pressed his tongue as far as it could reach into her heat, whimpered when he sucked her labia into his mouth, whined as he moaned into her, the wet sounds of her arousal sloppy and vulgar in the quiet of her room. When her legs constricted around his head, he went in for the kill, slipping two fingers into her with no warning, crooking them at just the right angle to press against her spongy front wall, sucking hard on her clit and setting her rippling about him with an agonised cry of his name. He worked her down gently as she convulsed, her whole body vibrating under his touch, a slow, steady, pulsing pressure from his fingers as his long tongue lapped at the slick petals of her vulva.

She came back to herself with the slide of his fingers from her heat, dropped her head back on a satiated sigh and expected him to join her at the head of the bed. The cool stream of air he blew against her inflamed centre, soothed quickly by the tender brush of his knuckles, had her hips jolting off the bed, a gasp caught in her throat as she lolled her head to the side to gaze in shock at him. He was propped on an elbow, arm wrapped around her thigh and resting against it, as he marvelled at her opening, the way it fluttered still on the occasional aftershock, clenching emptily when he pressed his thumb to the underside of her clit as it peeked out from it's hood.

'What are you thinking about?' she whispered, taking in his dazed gaze, the soft smile on his wet cheeks. His hair was rumpled and tufty from where she'd been gripping it, and she combed her fingers through it, scritching occasionally at his scalp.

'Just that I never really understood why people painted vulvas until now.'

She scoffed, tugged on his ear, 'so glad I could reveal to you the mysteries of art, Mulder. Why don't you come up here and I can teach you about poetry next.'

He'd been running his fingers up and down her folds, dipping inside every so often and drawing out more of the sweet nectar that she could feel coating her thighs and pooling under her ass. 'Not done down here yet,' he dove into her without warning, covering as much of her mons as his mouth could and sucking, hard. Her hips canted and she keened a cry, already so sensitive. 'I want to see you come, this time, Scully. I want you looking at me like I looked at you.'

Despite the way she shook her head, despite the whimper she gave as he slurped at her, she pressed herself up on a shaky hand, the one that wasn't clenched in his hair, stared down at his mirthful eyes. He knew exactly what she liked this time, gave her hard and fast licks and sucks, grinned into her when he pressed three fingers inside and she exploded on his tongue, shorted but more powerfully than before as she contracted over him, held his face to her cunt and shook with the force of the orgasm.

She flopped backwards, breathless, her head hitting the pillow with a satisfied moan, and she was relieved when he crawled up to lay beside her. She rolled her head and caught him in a kiss before he could wipe her slick off his lower face, tasting herself on him, having little energy to deepen the kiss and allowing it to stay tender and soft. His fingers had slipped out of her, but they hadn't stopped their gentle ministrations, running them lightly up and down her slit. 'What are you trying to prove, Mulder?' she asked, a dopey smile on her face as she gazed at him.

'That you don't need to mourn the loss of your little friend.'

'Hm, I think you proved that the first time I came.'

'Aren't you always telling me scientific proof needs a larger sample size?'

She gave him a hum of acknowledgement, a gentle sigh as she settled deeper into his side, 'just give me a minute, let me catch my breath.'

'Take all the time you need, I'm happy here,' his fingers were still touching, exploring, playing, nothing that was going to get her overly worked up, just enough to let her know he was still there, wasn't going anywhere. It was possessive, almost - he'd had her now, and he wasn't going to be letting her go. She felt herself clench at the thought, knew he felt it too, and smiled when he didn't push her any further.

As she mellowed in his arms, her hand started it's own journey down to his member, finding him hard and ready for her whenever she could summon the energy. Her fingers on his shaft echoed his on her cunt, maintaining the same gentle pressure, the same lazy pace. It was comforting in the dim quiet of her bedroom, to be so engulfed in him, so connected to him in ways she'd only dreamed of. She brushed her lips against his torso, nuzzled a nipple, scraped her teeth across a pec. He'd wiped his chin on his shoulder, dried most of her moisture off of himself, before leaning down to capture her in a sweet, gentle kiss, open mouthed and humid.

Before she knew it, she was deepening the kiss, delving her tongue into his mouth like he had all the answers to the universe in there, rolling into him, onto him, over him. Her hair curtained their faces, creating a closed-off world of their own as they each pulled and sucked on one another's lips. His fingers left trailing wetness as the dragged up her thighs, settled on her hips as they started rolling and rocking, dropping her weight onto him. The moan that filled her mouth when she slid herself up and down his shaft where is was pressed against his stomach reverberated through her and she whined, reaching down to spread her folds with her fingers. His cock's ridge caught on her swollen clit on each pass and she pushed herself up with her hands on her chest to get more leverage.

She was exhausted, her body drained from the past week, and from the two orgasms Mulder had already given her, but her hips were grinding down on instinct, working her higher.

'I need to be in you, Scully,' his hands were gripping at her everywhere, fingers pressing into her thighs, her waist, her tits. 'Do you have a-' he gasped on a particularly hard thrust of hers, 'condom? you got a condom?'

She grunted, lifted off him - just barely, just enough to reach over to her bedside draw, the one that was still open from when she'd been rummaging around for her vibrator. His hand replaced his cock almost immediately, cupping her and rubbing her and keeping her warm whilst she was away from him, and she dropped her forehead to her forearm for a moment, grinding into his ministrations, before she went back to her search.

A triumphant cry, and she was back in his lap, his fingers relocating to her clit as she squinted at the use-by date. Her good mood faltered and she tossed the wrapped condom to the floor, pouting at him. 'Out of date.'

'Damn,' he sighed, pressing himself upright and pausing her hips with a firm hand.

She slumped into him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering, 'I need you so bad, Mulder. So bad. It hurts how much I need you.'

'I know, Baby. I feel it too.'

Her legs were twined around his waist and her hips had taken up their rolling again, as if they could slip him in without either of them noticing. She whined, clung to him, nails biting into his skin as each of them gasped, a flush of arousal seeping from her, coating his shaft, and his hips gave a jolting jerk. 'I'm clean.'

'Okay,' he nodded, cleared his throat, 'me too. Had a full screening last year.'

She pulled back to look at him, nuzzled his nose with her own when he grinned. It took a moment to readjust herself, to kneel over him, his fingers never straying from her opening as she did so. Taking his cock in hand, she rubbed his head through her folds and coated him in her slip, gasping when his hand joined hers and they worked together to notch his fat tip into her cunt. She was so swollen, so worked up, and despite just how wet she was, it was a tight fit, his girth and her over-worked pussy making their joining a slow progress.

When she was barely halfway down on him she cried out, easing herself off of him and starting her slow descent again, easing onto him just a little easier this time. Whilst her hands gripped his shoulders for leverage, his stayed on her hips, letting her set her own pace as he murmured soft words of encouragement, telling her how well she was taking him, how good she felt, how perfect and tight and hot and wet she was. Their foreheads were pressed together, breaths mingling through open mouthed gasps, when she finally, finally, settled in his lap with him firmly rooted inside of her. He felt so big, like he was reaching all the way up inside of her, pressing on her heart and tearing her open from the inside out, and she relished in the feeling, the painful stretch just the right side of pleasurable.

Her whole body was alive with sensation, and she stayed still for as long as she could, just holding him there, licking and lapping at his tongue and his teeth, slippery and searching in their kiss, until it felt like she'd combust if she didn't move. The strain on her thighs was too much to do more than grind, the position they were in impractical for much more that a gentle rotation of her hips. He took a puckered nipple in his mouth, sucked hard and bit down, grinning with pride when she cried out and clenched tightly around him. At that she pushed his shoulders flat down to the bed, cursing as the change of angle forced him impossibly deeper, pressed him harder against her front wall. With the leverage she gained, she managed to snap her hips, grunting and tilting forwards when she managed to find an angle that rubbed the pearl of her clit so deliciously against his pubic hair.

Laying down gave Mulder the angle he needed to plant his feet and thrust up into her, and with each stroke she released a pant that grew in volume to sharp little gasps, until she shattered around him, his dick too thick for her to clench comfortably without pulling off of him completely. When she did, dropping onto his stomach with a gasp, he slipped two fingers into her to come around, the pair of them relishing in her violent spasms.

She was still quaking when he rolled them over, carefully pressed his thick cock into her, hushing her overstimulated whimpers and being careful not to touch her clit whilst she accepted him back into her tightness. He rocked gently as she gathered her breath and wits, picked up speed as her fingers curled protectively over her clit, shielding it from his thrusts and occasionally flicking at it when she needed stimulation.

'One more for me, Baby.'

'Can't,' she puffed out, starting to inch towards the wrong side of pain. Three times was more than enough for the night, a record, and though she loved his determination, she felt like her whole body was about to tear itself to shreds. Her dissuasion didn't seem to stop him though as he drew her into a kiss, trailed his lips down to suck gently at her breast.

His hand covered her own on her pussy, guided her fingers into a vee around their joining, and he nudged at her nose with his own, 'look at that, Scully. Look how beautiful we look together. How good you take me. You're so gorgeous, stretched so tight around me. I know it's a lot. I know, Baby, you're doing so good, and you're gonna come with me this time.'

It was impossible, she was sure, but she could feel her orgasm tingling throughout her body, lingering in her fingertips and at her peripheral vision. It washed over her like the gentle lap of a turning tide, warming her and embracing her and filling her fully with starlight as Mulder gave his last few stuttering thrusts, holding himself as still as possible whilst he filled her.

He gathered her to him and flopped down on his back, staying nestled in her whilst their breathings settled. She felt dazed and sated and so fucking full, all of the tension from the last week drained. A rumbling chuckle below her cheek brought her back to her senses, and she propped herself up, an eyebrow raised, 'something funny?'

'I'm not surprised your vibrator gave up - that was fucking hot.' His laughter made him twitch inside of her and they both grunted. She rose to her knees, grimmacing and whimpering when he slipped from her, both of them looking down and watching in semi-fascination as a trail of their combined come slipped from her pussy. 'Now that was fucking hot,' he murmured, pulling her down beside him, and she snorted tucking herself under his arm.

They lay like that under a heavy langour, entwined, as their sweat-slicked skin and the wet sheets beneath them cooled and stickied, until finally she shifted and groaned at the stickiness between her thighs, 'I need to wash.'

'Okay. I'll go warm the shower up,' he eased out of her arms, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and disappeared, leaving a dopey smile in his wake.

The room smelt of sex, of them, and if she had the energy, it would be so hot. But for now, she rested her eyes, pressed her nose into the pillow that smelt like him, and her, together.

‘Hey, Scully?’ he called through, poking his head around the door of the bathroom.

She propped herself up on an elbow and peered at him, ‘hmm?’

‘Your shower’s not heating up.’

‘Oh, yeah...’ she nodded, slumping back down, draping her forearm across her eyes. ‘Gas line problem. Super’s on it.’

‘Huh.’ He lounged against the door frame, hesitating as he stared at her lithe form sprawled across her bed, before his face cleared and his decision set, ‘stay at mine.’

‘Hm?’ she lolled her head to look over at him, a dopey smile crossing her face as she watched him shift nervously under her gaze.

‘It’s...it’s not the best place, but it’s got a bed, and you can have a shower. And...and I’m sure I can scrounge together pancakes in the morning.’ He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot.

‘Pancakes? Really?’

‘Yeah. I might need to rummage in your fridge for eggs and milk, but-’

‘Come here,’ she chuckled, and reached a hand out lazily to him, beckoning him over, ‘that sounds...really lovely.’

~~~