2AN: Here we are. I warned you that the rating was likely to change.
I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!
111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111
Mulder slept better than he could remember sleeping in a long time. Some of it was the relief of knowing that everything with Samantha—though still not solved, really—was no worse than it had been before. She was missing, but he felt renewed hope that she would be found. The greatest part of the relief, though, was knowing that Scully was fine. Forever burned into his mind, probably, was the image of that bounty hunter with a gun to Scully's temple, but it had ended in their favor. Not only was Scully fine, but she'd spent the night sleeping next to Mulder—some of it, she'd even spent wrapped in his arms. Mulder always slept better when she was beside him.
As he swam slowly upward out of the heavy cover of sleep and came closer to consciousness, Mulder began to take in the sensations around him—the comfort of the bed, the sweet surrounding scent of Scully…and something else entirely.
He opened his eyes to see her, the corners of her mouth crooked as she smiled at him, her eyes full of a particular kind of mischief, as she ran her tongue teasingly over and around his tip. Mulder felt a ripple of pleasure run through him as she took him into her mouth, no longer teasing.
For a moment, Mulder swam in the wave of warm and perfect pleasure that crashed over him. He found himself grabbing for the sheets—looking for something to hold onto like he might fall right off the face of the Earth. When his brain had a small break in the pleasure, it offered him another thought—a different one entirely. It offered him past memories of times when Scully had done this without quite as much finesse as she now possessed.
Mulder laughed to himself at the thoughts that rushed into his mind before pleasure could push them back out again.
"If you're going to laugh at me while I do this, I might just stop," Scully said, doing just what she'd threatened to do, at least temporarily. She looked annoyed, but the extra dark rush of pink to her cheeks told Mulder that she was embarrassed.
"I was just—thinking about the very first time you tried this," Mulder said.
"I apologized," Scully said.
"You did," Mulder ceded. "And there was no permanent harm done. I was just thinking that your technique has improved immensely, Scully."
"Then lie back. Relax, Mulder. Focus on enjoying it."
Scully returned to her work, but Mulder couldn't help but find that he was still distracted. One of the problems was that—no matter how damn wonderful it felt to know that Dana Scully was willing to pleasure him in such a way, he'd almost rather just watch her than focus on what his body was feeling.
"Are we on a schedule, Scully?" Mulder asked when Scully sighed and sped up, clearly trying to move him from one point to another in record time. "Because, I never rush you, but I have to admit that I'm feeling a little rushed."
Scully stopped again. She stroked him lazily with her hand and he closed his eyes for a split second to the new sensation and the continued slow wave of pleasure that was flowing over him and puddling around him.
"I'm sorry. But…considering I feel like I might be sick—yeah," Scully said. Her expression and the way she swallowed made it immediately clear that she was fighting something back, even if that something was only a desire or a sensation.
Mulder laughed to himself.
"I have to give you credit, Scully. Hands down, that's the sexiest thing a woman has ever told me while she was giving me a blow job."
Scully made a face as she swallowed, again, in rapid succession. She blew out her breath and sat up a little.
"Does it make it sexier if—if I say it's your baby that's doing this to me?"
Mulder smiled to himself.
"It makes it infinitely sexier," Mulder offered.
Scully opened her mouth like she might say something in response, but barely more than a sound escaped—a sound without any meaning at all, before she broke off.
"Scully, if you need permission," Mulder offered, seeing her blanch. She was sweating a little, and he was almost certain that it wasn't from exertion, "then I'm giving it to you. If you need to go—just go."
For a moment, Scully focused on a spot on the wall over Mulder's shoulder. She was very clearly doing her best to control things with her breathing, given the way she inhaled and exhaled with purpose, and Mulder didn't say or do anything to break her concentration.
"It's OK," she said after a moment. "I'm fine."
"You can go, if you need to," Mulder said softly.
Scully closed her eyes and shook her head.
"It doesn't matter if I go or I stay," she said. "Dinner was gone about two hours ago when—the alien woke up. Now there's nothing. I just—gag. The sensation is there, but…"
"There's nothing in your stomach," Mulder supplied. Scully shook her head. Then, she got a slightly horrified look on her face as her cheeks ran bright red again. They must have burned hot because she raised her hands and touched them.
"Oh—Mulder, I'm sorry," she said. She almost looked like she would cry. In fact, with each passing millisecond, she looked closer and closer to tears. Mulder practically lurched forward and sat up to pull her to him. She didn't fight him. She came and let him hold her against him. "I meant for this to be sexy, and romantic, and…"
Mulder laughed to himself. He shushed her, rubbing his hands over her, as he held her close to him. She was wearing a nightgown—a soft cotton nightgown. Mulder closed his eyes, nuzzling against her. She smelled wonderful. She smelled like Scully. Like home. And God, she felt good in his arms. His arms never felt as good as they did when they were wrapped around her.
He pushed her away enough to use his thumbs to wipe both her cheeks at the same time.
"You're beautiful," he offered. Her frown deepened and a few more clear drops ran from her eyes. He wiped those away with his thumbs and laughed to himself. He couldn't help but smile at her. "You are—you don't have to cry about it, Scully."
"This was supposed to be sexy," Scully said.
"With someone as sexy as you, everything's sexy," Mulder offered.
"It was supposed to be romantic, Mulder."
"For a man, there's nothing more romantic in the world, Scully, than the woman you love having your baby," Mulder said.
"I told you I was feeling sick, and I nearly got sick."
"All part of the process," Mulder said. "Like you said, it's my baby that's doing it to you. And I'm sorry that you don't feel well, Scully. I am—but I'm still going to think you're incredible for just…having my baby."
"I wanted to—take care of you," Scully said, clearly starting to calm. Mulder could feel her relaxing where her body made contact with his.
"You always take care of me," Mulder assured her. "You take better care of me than anyone ever has."
"I wanted to wake you up with a blow job," Scully said. "Isn't that what every man wants?"
Mulder laughed to himself.
"Hey—you did wake me up with a blow job," he offered. He smirked at her. She needed the comfort. She needed the teasing. Right now, she needed all of it, and Mulder wanted her to have everything she needed, because it was true—she took care of him. She always took care of him. Mulder had never loved like he loved Scully, and he'd never been loved in the way that she loved him. He would give her any and everything she could possibly ever need if it was in his power to give it. "That was a wonderful way to wake up, Scully. And there's nothing hotter than seeing your tongue running over me like that…" Mulder laughed to himself when his own words made him shiver. "See? Just remembering it got me hard again."
Scully glanced toward his dick, again. She smiled to herself. She curled her hand around it and stroked him, gently. Mulder groaned at her.
"I could try again," she offered.
Mulder reached and caught her wrist, stopping her from even trying to pleasure him that way. She looked at him, brow furrowed. That was all the question that he needed.
"If you're feeling up to it," he said, "I'd really rather fuck you, Scully. I haven't been inside you in a long time—what feels like forever. I'd like to be back there again."
The pink returned to her cheeks, this time in a different way, and Mulder felt the blood run to his dick, making it even more painfully hard than it had been before.
"You should be taking it easy, Mulder, really…" Scully said, her voice almost choked as she protested. It was clear that she didn't want to say it. Her need to take care of him—to protect him—forced her into it.
Mulder smiled at her.
"If you're feeling up to it," Mulder said, "maybe you could help me out? I could take it easy?"
Scully licked her lips, clearly understanding what he wanted.
"I think I could do that," she offered.
"If it's too much movement," Mulder said, not finishing.
"I've got your permission," Scully said with a smile. She leaned and kissed him. She meant the kiss, and Mulder meant his return of it. "I've always got your permission to do what I need to do."
"Always," Mulder confirmed. "What's best for you—and best for the alien? That's always going to be what's best for me, too, Scully."
Scully kissed him again and, as she kissed him, Mulder slipped his hand down between her legs. She was wearing a nightgown, but she'd taken off her panties. She'd anticipated that the blow job might very well go somewhere else entirely. She was already wet, but when Mulder stroked her with his fingers, she flooded a little more. He continued his stroking, his fingers finding her sensitive nub and working it like he knew she liked—just as hard and fast as she usually requested. For just a moment, she struggled with her desire. First, she latched onto him, tightening her thighs until he couldn't continue his movement. Realizing that, by trying to satisfy her hunger, she'd cut off her supply, she spread her legs again and ground into his hand, riding his fingers.
The other hand held the back of her head, pulling her toward him to keep her from breaking the kisses for more than air.
"Fuck, Scully…" He muttered in between kisses.
"That's what I want you to do," Scully teased, practically panting out the words.
Mulder wasn't actually sure if he pulled his hand back or she pulled free of him. A moment later, she was hovering over him. She lined them up and slid herself down onto him, seating herself entirely and straddling him. Her eyes closed and her face assumed the expression that fell somewhere between pain and pleasure. She needed a second to adjust, and Mulder allowed her that as he rested his hands on her hips.
"Take your gown off," he said.
"What?"
"Your breasts. I want to see them," Mulder said, as Scully rocked her hips, beginning the grinding that was her search for release. Mulder's breath caught in his throat over the rush of pleasure. Without stopping the grinding, Scully rid herself of the gown. Mulder reached his hand up, rubbing it over her breast. His fingers toyed with her perfect nipple—already erect.
She groaned at him and put her hands on his chest, seeking the support that she needed to lift herself so that she could repeatedly slide herself up and down his length.
Mulder lost all track of time as Scully rode him, sometimes looking at him, sometimes with her eyes closed, and sometimes with her head thrown back in pleasure. When he was near his end, he returned to rubbing her, helping her find what she needed, and he was rewarded when her muscles locked down tightly enough around him, pulsing, that he thought his brain might actually explode if the woman atop him wouldn't tell him that such a thing was medically impossible.
Despite her demands that he relax and let her do all the work, Mulder had been unable to stop himself, at the end, from driving his hips up into her as she let him work out what he needed to find his own release, and to milk every last bit of pleasure out of their physical connection, as he could.
Then, sweaty from their exertions, Scully collapsed on Mulder, sucking in breath and getting control of her senses, once more, before she rolled next to him and practically fitted herself perfectly in the crook of his arm.
"I love you," Mulder said, his own breath ragged.
"I love you," Scully echoed. "We love you." She sat up and smiled at him. She kissed the corner of his mouth before he could respond. "I do—and the alien does."
Mulder smiled to himself. He pulled her closer and she came willingly, this time kissing him on the lips and letting him choose when to release her.
"You take good care of me," he assured her.
"You take care of me, too," she echoed. "Us."
"You still feel sick?" Mulder asked.
"Very much so," Scully said. "There's very little that I would like more than to be sick right now, but I didn't want to ruin the mood."
Mulder laughed to himself at the absolute calmness with which she delivered the message, and Scully laughed to herself in response.
"Want to go to the bathroom?" Mulder asked.
"No," Scully said. "I want to—lie right here and take advantage of the oxytocin."
Mulder hummed at her. He snuggled her against him, and she rested next to him. She sighed, settling in.
"If it makes you feel better," Mulder offered, "we can work you up another batch of it in about—twenty minutes."
"Ever the caretaker," Scully teased, patting his chest. He caught her hand and brought it up to kiss her delicate fingers.
"Only the best for you, Scully."
111111111111111111111111111111111111111
AN: I hope you enjoyed. I'll probably be continuing this "series" with another little story, if anyone's interested.
Please let me know what you think!
