Title: Heartland I: Delta
Author: Eiluned
For disclaimers, see part one.

His voice rings through the relative silence of the cemetery. His voice is raw and harsh, domineering. Without really thinking, my fingers part the buttons and the jacket slips from my shoulders to pool on the bench behind me. Mulder growls with satisfaction as he takes in my thin, white camisole. It’s so humid here that the fabric must be nearly transparent. I can feel my hard nipples straining against the feathery fabric, but I don’t dare look down. Mulder’s gaze has captured me.

He seems to approve of my new look. His eyes rake over me in a mimic of what his hands want to do. He licks his lips slowly, languorously, and I know I’m about ten seconds from losing it. He spans the distance between us with one step, dropping to his knees in front of me. To anyone watching, he would appear to be subservient. But I know better. Watching his eyes shift to a darker shade of hazel, his pupils dilating, the set of his brow, I know exactly who is in charge here. And I certainly don’t mind being relieved of my responsibilities.

His hands come to rest on my knees, his thumbs tracing invisible circles on the insides. "Do you know what I’m going to do to you?" he rumbles, slowly sliding his hands up my thighs.

I shudder when his fingers venture under the hem of my skirt. "What?" I whisper in a voice that is barely there.

He stops suddenly when he reaches the tops of my stockings and gives me an approving smile. "Do you know how much this turns me on?" he asks, pushing my skirt up to my hips.

"What are you going to do, Mulder?" I ask him, trying to sound as strong as possible.

He purses his lips at me thoughtfully, and I am struck with a sudden urge to bite them. That’s always been involved in my fantasies. Nipping at Mulder’s lower lip, especially while his lower body is doing delightful things to mine.

"What should I do with you?" his voice isn’t playful at all, "There are so many things that I’d like to do to you. But I don’t know if you’d let me."

Suddenly, I can see through his mask. The everyday Mulder is in there and he wants my permission. I don’t want to see the everyday Mulder right now. I want the dominant Mulder to come back.

I lay my hand on his shoulder. "I trust you," is all I say, and the dominant Mulder makes a swift return.

His eyes are suddenly fierce and feral. "How about I just show you what I want to do to you," he growls, sliding his hands around to cup my hips.

His fingers slip under the elastic of my panties and I disjointedly thank... someone for wearing the sexiest pair of underwear I own. If he likes these, he ought to like the bra even more.

I lift my hips and he pulls my panties down and off, admiring the little piece of red and black silk before stuffing it in the pocket of his trousers. "Wouldn’t want you to lose those," he says, pulling me forward until my ass is on the edge of the bench.

His hands spread my thighs wide, and then move around to grasp my hips. He doesn’t waste any time on preliminaries. I feel his hot breath a millisecond before his tongue delves inside me. I gasp sharply, one hand coming up to clutch at his hair. He makes a hungry noise in his throat and slides the flat of his tongue all the way up my sex, pressing over my clit at the very top.

I’ve never really enjoyed oral sex that much, but now I’m convinced that it was just the wrong men doing it to me. Mulder should be given a fucking medal of honor for outstanding cunnilingus performed on his partner.

Mulder gives me a few more long licks, then sharpens his tongue and flickers it over my clit, flicking it up and down. He pushes a long finger into me and I clench around him. I can feel him smile against my sex, and then he slides two more fingers in, his tongue never stopping.

Oh, God, I can’t breathe. I have never felt such exquisite pleasure. The only coherent thought floating through my mind right now is "why the hell didn’t I let Mulder do this before?" But all thought flees when a blinding orgasm hits me. My legs are shaking hard and my back is arching off of the bench and Mulder keeps going, prolonging each wave as it crashes over me.

"Oh, oh, god, Mulder... no more... I can’t take anymore..." I gasp.

He obediently stops, soothing me with light kisses on my thighs. I blink a few times, trying to clear the haze in my vision. Mulder stands, shedding his jacket and dropping it on the ground. His tie flutters to join the jacket and a few buttons come loose on his shirt. I pull together enough to sit up partway and look at him. What I see nearly makes me faint.

Mulder is staring at me with this dark, unbelievably ravenous look. His eyes have darkened so much that I can’t see any hint of color. And, oh god... His hands drop to his belt and loosen the strap of leather. Almost methodically, his fingers open the hidden clasp and slide the zipper down, leaving the dark grey trousers hanging on his hips. He’s wearing those wonderful grey boxer briefs, the ones that I now know to be a little too small to hold in what is hands-down the biggest erection I’ve ever seen. Oh fuck, I think my mouth is watering. I feel like Pavlov’s dog.

I drag my eyes back up to his and he meets my gaze fiercely. "I want you to do something for me, Scully."

The sound of my name makes me shudder. "Anything," I reply, my words sounding to my own ears like begging.

Mulder hooks his thumbs in the waistband of his shorts, pulling them out and down, freeing his cock. I feel quite lightheaded. You know, that funny feeling you get when you’re short on oxygen? Like you’re just seeing what is going on around you, but it’s not really happening.

"I want you to taste me, Scully," he says, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders.

I move forward eagerly, flicking my tongue out to graze the tip of his cock. He jerks and I take that as encouragement, licking my lips and taking the head into my mouth.

Oh, he tastes good. Salty and heady, like heat and flesh, Mulderflesh. I take him in deeper with every stroke, swirling my tongue around the head, pressing into the little indention on the underside.

He moans harshly, his hips giving a little involuntary thrust. I suck hard, slowly dragging my lips up his cock to the ridge, running my tongue over the hot flesh. He gasps, his grip tightening on my shoulders, and a new flavor is introduced into my mouth. He pushes me away quickly, taking a second to recover. I roll the taste around on my tongue and decide immediately that I like it. He tastes oddly sweet, a delicious contrast to the bitter saltiness that makes up the undertones.

"That was too good," Mulder breathes heavily, running a hand through his hair, "Crawl up on the bench, Scully."

I move without thinking, turning sideways. "Get on your hands and knees," he orders, his fingers parting the remaining buttons on his shirt.

My hands start to shake and my mouth suddenly goes bone dry. Oh, my God. I cannot believe this is happening. The sheer insanity of this situation hits me. I’m about to get fucked (and if the look on Mulder’s face is any indicator, I’m about to get fucked hard) in the middle of a cemetery. The scarier thing is that this is turning me on past the point of common sense. Oh, a cemetery, yeah, sure, serial killer, oh, right. I’m going to get fucked.

I turn obediently, dropping my shoes onto the ground, pointing my toes until the tops of my feet are pressed flat on the warm stone. I stretch my arms out, bracing my weight on them, and bow my back, thrusting my ass up into the air. Mulder must like the view, from the groan he gives.

Glancing over my shoulder, I watch him move to his knees on the bench behind me. He grasps my hips, pulling me back until I can feel the heat of his body on my bare flesh. His fingers trail over my skin, drawing invisible patterns. "Oh, Mulder... please..." I moan.

"Please what?" he replies, no playfulness in his tone.

"Please..."

"Please what? You have to answer me, Scully. Let me know what you want. Then maybe I’ll give it to you."

A high-pitched noise leaves my throat, a plea. "Mulder, I want you...mmm, please. I want your cock, Mulder, fuck me, please...please, please, please," I chant, trying to thrust my hips back at him.

His grip on me tightens, his fingers digging into my flesh to the point of pain. Then his right hand leaves me, and I feel his fingers slipping over my drenched sex, sliding in and out. His touch leaves me completely and I drop my head to my chest, tears of frustration welling up in my eyes. Then he shocks me completely.

His left hand darts up to tangle in my hair, yanking my head back with just enough force. At the same time, he guides his cock to my entrance, thrusting hard, pushing himself all the way inside me with no warning.

I cry out, my voice echoing through the empty, dark cemetery. A low, guttural groan answers me. Mulder’s grip on my hair loosens, his hand moving down to grip my shoulder. "Oh, God, Scully..." he moans.

He pulls back until just the head of him remains inside, the ridge tugging at my opening. I squeeze my muscles tight around him, inching my way back, taking more of him in. He seems to like this immensely. He drops forward, planting his hands on either side of me, letting me have a little more of him. I squeeze again, working him rhythmically inside of me. His right hand slides under me, jerking my skirt up around my waist. His fingers proceed to dip into the wetness he’s created and play with my swollen clit, flicking the bud of nerves back and forth.

Every muscle in my body jerks, every nerve set on fire. I suck in a breath hard, my legs trembling against his. "Oh, yeah," I hear him growl in my ear, his breath hot, "Come for me again. Do it, Scully."

He flicks hard and another tiny orgasm skitters over me. He doesn’t let up at all, his fingers working me even more furiously. I’m wailing now, unable to cope with the sensory overload. I’ve never come like this before. It feels like a thousand orgasms following right after each other, sending tingling sparks through my body. I’m shaking so hard that I can’t support myself any longer. I fall forward, stretching my arms out straight in front of me, pushing back on him for leverage.

"Mul... Mulder," I moan, "Fuck me hard."

He exhales shakily, pushing himself back up to his knees, one hand moving to my hip, the other taking hold of my throat. "What Scully wants, Scully gets," he says darkly.

He pumps into me, his hips giving hard, fast thrusts. The cemetery seems to come alive with the sounds of us. I can hear his harsh breaths reverberating off of the cold tombs, punctuated with my own cries and moans. He’s so close, I can feel it in his hands, I can feel the tenseness shimmering through his body every time it makes contact with mine. "Oh, yeah," I breathe, "Come for me, Mulder. Give it to me."

He moans, his right arm locking around my chest, his weight pressing me down onto the bench with every thrust of his hips. "Uh... please, Mulder. Come for me. I want it, Mulder," I whisper around his pounding, my breath forced out of me, "Give it to me."

He stiffens suddenly, his hips giving a few erratic, uneven thrusts. Then his cries fill the deserted graveyard with life as he fills me with himself. It’s hot and wet and oh, so good. His arms give out and he collapses down onto me. His weight feels good, reassuring. Finally, his breathing slows and matches mine.

XxX

I wake up in a sea of sheets that smell of sex and Mulder and me. I roll over to see him watching me, his face creased with a tiny smile. "Good morning," he whispers.

"Mmm, ‘morning," I reply, "What are you doing?"

He leans over to kiss me softly. "I was watching the sun rise. It came in through the window and lit you up like fire," he says.

"I didn’t realize you were a poet."

He chuckles, more to himself than to me. His fingers play in the messy strands of my hair and he stares at me with such a tenderness that I didn’t know he was capable of. "Did you like it?" he asks quietly, "Last night?"

I push myself up on one arm, draping myself over him. It feels so good to press my naked body against his, and I feel the fires stoked last night sparking again. "Mulder, I don’t think you even have to ask," I whisper, sliding my tongue around the outside of his ear.

He groans and pulls me to him tightly, rolling us so he’s over me. He grinds his hips against me, pressing his cock into my thigh. "What do you say we pick up where we left off?" he says, and I am introduced to another facet of Mulder’s personality.

I wrap my legs around his hips and he slips two fingers, damp from my mouth, into me, spreading the growing wetness. I impatiently thrust up against him and he laughs silently. "My, my. Aren’t we anxious?" he teases.

"Fuck me, Mulder," I growl.

He shakes his head at me. "Can I make love to you instead?" he asks, running his lips over my collarbone, a move he now knows to drive me insane, "I’d much rather make love to you. Will you let me?"

"Let you?" I gasp.

He pushed himself up so he can look me in the eye. "Love you," he answers simply.

As much as I hate crying, I feel tears burning my eyes. "Only if I can love you back."

He smiles blissfully, dipping his head to kiss me deeply. Well, another one of my fantasies is coming true. I’m biting his bottom lip lightly, tugging the soft flesh between my teeth. He shifts his hips and sinks his cock down inside of me.

The heat is rising again. I don’t think it ever really left. New Orleans is waking with the dawn, and as I cry out in release, welcoming Mulder into my body, I feel the heat searing me as surely as his gaze.

XxX

End

XxX

Author’s Notes: Okay, I need to say first that some of this was inspired by reading Allison Kinney’s "Never" for about the fiftieth time. I really love that fic. I think I also paid an unconscious homage to Mustang Sally’s "By The Light of The Moon," although I never even thought of that fic while I was writing this one. I dunno, I guess it’s just embedded in my unconscious (thank you, Dr. Freud). I’d like to dedicate this fic to my significant other, who inspired part of this fic. Well, along with repeated doses of "Jake’s Story". Feedback will be lusted after at volcanogirl42@hotmail.com.