TITLE: Heartland II: Deserts Dry (1 of 2)
AUTHOR: Eiluned
E-MAIL ADDRESS: volcanogirl42@hotmail.com
DISTRIBUTION: Gossamer, Xemplary, of course.
Archive anywhere else, just keep my name, addy and
header with it, and drop me a note to let me know where
it’s going. Please archive both parts together.
DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me.
I’m just using them for sex. :`
The lyrics belong to U2.
SPOILER WARNING: None
TIMELINE: Late season six. Let’s all pretend
Biogenesis never happened.
RATING: NC-17 for explicit language and graphic
sexual descriptions. If you’re under 17 or don’t care for
this sort of thing, turn back now.
CLASSIFICATION: SR
KEYWORDS: Mulder/Scully Romance
SUMMARY: A cool night in a desert motel. Sequel to
Delta.
AUTHOR’S NOTES: You don’t have to read Heartland I:
Delta to understand this, although it would probably give
you a good background. You can find it at
trax.to/BlueVelvet. This is dedicated to Arcadian42, the
frustrated smut writer. Here’s hoping you can finally
write some!
THANKS: To my beautiful betas, Dreamshaper,
Exley_61, Khyber & Romy. This would have sucked
without you... Oh, and Khyber? Thanks for the baseball
bat thing. :) And thanks to the reader who suggested
sex outside on the hood of the car. Instant inspiration!
XxX
“Mississippi and the cotton wool heat
Sixty-six the highway speaks
Of deserts dry, of cool green valleys
Gold and silver mines - shining cities...”
U2, “Heartland”
XxX
Rural Highway 117
Cibola County, New Mexico
July 23
11:17 p.m.
The moon rises in front of us, peeking over the horizon
like a shimmering ball of golden fire. For some reason,
the moon looks different in New Mexico. In D.C. it’s just
the moon, silver and faint in the sky. Here, it is fire, a
huge orb of flames that rises quickly. If I concentrate, I
can actually see its movement. The sky fades from
violet to black, stars winking in the cold desert air. The
headlights of our car cut into the darkness, illuminating
the highway and an occasional jackrabbit, standing on
hind legs. They always dart away from their moment in
the spotlight, hiding in the sheltering dusk.
I stretch my arms above my head, pushing idly at the
roof of the car, pressing against my seat until I feel the
crack of tension being released in my back. The radio is
playing quietly, so quietly that I can’t distinguish the
song from the rhythm of our tires on the blacktop. Every
once in a while, a note floats up to tickle my ears, the
twang of a guitar or the hum of a smooth voice. Mulder
must have dragged along his Chris Isaak tapes.
I turn my attention to my partner, who is staring out into
the encroaching night, his hands loose on the steering
wheel. Just the sight of him makes me shift in my seat.
His eyes are sleepy, the lids drooping low. Thick, dark
hair falls rebelliously out of place to sweep across his
forehead. Thank God he let it grow back. The short
thing was interesting, but I don’t think he realized what
his hair did to me. I would take every opportunity I
could get to touch it, run my fingers through it. And
thank God again that he kept his sideburns. Those drive
me absolutely crazy. The perfect length, just right for
me to slide my tongue over.
My lover. The words echo in my mind, bringing up
images that make me flush with heat. We’ve only spent
one night together. We’ve been denied the pleasure
ever since. Another case, another cross-country romp.
We were too exhausted every night to even think about
sex, much less do it. Well, I will admit that I did think
about it, lying alone in my motel bed, staring up at the
ceiling, my hands idly wandering.
I thought about the feel of his tongue gliding over my
sex, dipping into me. I tried to recapture the taste of
him in my mouth, relying on sensual recollections. And
the memory of him thrusting into me was enough to
bring me a lonely climax. I miss him, even though he’s
sitting right beside me.
I want to feel his hands on my body, holding me down,
taking control. I want him to make me come so hard
that I shatter into a million brilliant pieces that he can
sow into the indigo firmament, adding a million new
stars to light up the night. I want him.
“What are you thinking about?”
I start at the sound of his voice. My eyes lift to his,
watching his face as the glances between me and the
road. “Hmm?” he asks.
“Oh, nothing. Just about how glad I am that this case is
over,” I answer.
He nods his agreement. “Anything else?”
I tilt my head to the side, trying to gauge his mood.
“Well, I was thinking about how much I wanted to get
into bed,” I say, leaving the unspoken ‘with you’ hanging
in the air between us.
A faint smile plays on his lips, the same one that I saw
in New Orleans. What a tease. I let myself smile in the
shadows. At least I know he wants the same thing I do.
A faint glow appears on the horizon, focusing into a tall
neon sign. A bright blue Saguaro cactus sways jerkily,
overshadowing the words ‘Acoma Inn’. I find this slightly
humorous, considering that we haven’t seen a single
Saguaro since we’ve been here. Or maybe I’m just too
tired and horny to think straight.
“Want to stop for the night?” Mulder asks, slowing the
car.
I glance at the glowing LCD clock on the dashboard.
11:37. “Sure,” I reply.
He pulls the car into the gravel parking lot, rolling to a
stop in front of the office. “I’ll go get the rooms,” he tells
me. The look he gives me says we’ll only be using one.
I watch him amble up the plywood porch and duck inside
the brightly lit office. I pop open my door, stretching my
legs out into the cool air. I pull myself up and straighten
my skirt, breathing in the soft scent of piñon trees. The
desert night is chilly, a breeze sweeping down from the
not-so-distant mountains that flank Albuquerque. A bit
of dust is picked up in the wind, swirling in a tiny devil
and collapsing back onto the ground. I want to look at
the stars, but the garish neon sign obscures all but the
brightest. The faint crunch of gravel behind me is my
only warning of his approach.
“Waiting for me?”
His hot breath is right in my ear, followed by his tongue.
I groan and let him pull me backward against his body.
My hips brush against the erection straining in his
trousers, and he hums with pleasure. He nips my
earlobe a few more times then releases me, turning me
to face the car.
I raise an eyebrow at him, but my only answer is a quirk
of his lips. “I’m in charge now, Scully,” he says, sliding
his jacket down his shoulders and tossing into the open
car, “You do what I tell you.”
I shiver, and not necessarily from the bite of the wind. I
have no idea how he knew that I like it like this, to be
dominated completely. But I’m thanking my lucky stars,
every single one of them that shimmer down on us in
the black desert sky.
The neon sign suddenly winks out, leaving us in the
dark. I look up at the moon rising steadily behind
Mulder. It is impossibly huge and a violent shade of red,
casting its light over the waking plain. I can hear a
coyote yipping in the distance. A second later, another
answers, adding its lonely cry to the sonata of the
desert.
Mulder cocks his eyebrow a me. “Scully. Bend over the
car,” he orders, his voice all business.
I bite my bottom lip and obey, rising up on tiptoe and
draping myself over the trunk. The metal is cold against
me and my nipples tighten in anticipation of his touch.
I jump at the sudden feel of his face against my clothed
back and his fingertips on the backs of my knees . They
trace a ticklish path up my thighs, under my skirt,
stopping to rub around the tops of my stockings. “Mm,
I’m glad you wore these,” he rumbles, pressing himself
against my back, nipping at my neck.
A sudden flash of panic hits me. “Mulder, not here... the
motel manager...” I stammer.
“Shh,” he chides quickly, “They’re closed for the night.
She isn’t there. No one is here to see us,” his mouth
dips to bite at the tendon in my shoulder, “And I want
you.”
I shudder against him, pushing my hips back. Mulder
slides his hands under the hem of my skirt, slowly
dragging it up my thighs until the fabric is bunched
around my waist. His fingers hook under the elastic of
my panties, dropping them down around my ankles.
The air is cold against my bare skin, sending a wave of
shivers over me. I hear the rasp of his zipper and my
legs tense in anticipation. Nothing could ever replace
the feeling of Mulder’s cock inside of me. He’s
unbelievably big, so long and thick. He’s completely
spoiled me for any other man. Not that I would want any
other.
I tilt my head to glance him over my shoulder. He gives
me a wicked, predatory smile and pulls my ass toward
him. One hand leaves me and I feel his cock pressing
against me, hard and hot. He reaches up and pulls his
tie loose, starting on the buttons of his shirt. I thrust
back impatiently against him, desperate for more. He
gives me a stern look and I bite back a smile, settling
for the inch or two that is already inside of me.
At about the third button, he pushes all the way in. A
gasp hitches in my throat at the sudden sensation of
complete fullness. He stretches me to the limit. Well,
he never was one to adhere to limits. I’m still a little
sore from last week’s escapades. Well, to be honest,
this is the first day I’ve been able to walk without a limp.
Take a woman of my petite proportions who also hasn’t
had sex in a good six years. Take a man who unveils a
baseball bat. I concede, I fully expected to hobble for a
week or so. Not that I’m complaining or anything.
I catch a glimpse of his face back over my shoulder.
His eyes are glassed over, but he is still completely in
control, of himself and me. He starts thrusting into me
before he’s even undressed. Every muscle in my body
clenches and I gasp, my eyes snapping shut. Oh, yes.
This is what I have been waiting for since New Orleans.
I need to be filled by him, all the time. Forget the FBI,
forget everything else, I just need Mulder inside me.
“Look at me.”
I force my eyes open and throw a look back at him. His
shirt is undone, hanging loose from his shoulders. His
flat stomach and defined chest, peeks out at me,
beckoning me to run my tongue over the hard muscles.
His eyes are open, but hazy with pleasure. I can hear
him sucking air in through pursed lips.
Mulder’s hands slide around my bare hips, lifting my ass
up to meet his strokes. He tilts my pelvis, changing the
angle of his thrusts. A shot of pleasure courses through
me, and I bite my lip hard. His cock rubs against my
g-spot, sending shuddering waves over me.
He’s starting to breath as fast as me, the noise harsh
against the quiet. With every pump of his hips, I’m
coming closer and closer to climaxing. I clench him
inside of me, trying desperately to drag him over the
edge with me.
His fingers tighten on my hips and his strokes become
shorter, more clipped. “Oh, yeah,” he moans, tipping
forward to rest against my back, “God, Scully... you feel
so good.”
I am too far gone to answer him. The best I can
manage is a low pitched moan. He speeds his thrusts,
pounding into me, slamming me into the side of the car.
The pleasure is so keen that I fear going insane if it
doesn’t crest soon. He seems to sense this and reaches
around me to press firmly on my clit.
The cry that I let out echoes through the empty desert
night. “Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, ohyeahohyeah...” he
chants, riding my orgasm out, giving a final thrust that
seems to pierce straight through me. His body tenses
against me, his teeth sinking into my neck, and he lets
out a guttural groan.
I collapse onto the car and concentrate on feeling him.
His cock throbs inside of me, sending tingles down to
my toes and back. He pushes himself into me
unevenly, his body no longer under his control. After a
moment, he founders, letting his weight rest on me. The
hot remnants of our fucking slides down the inside of my
thighs. Normally, I would rush to clean up, but I want to
feel marked by him. Proclaim to the world that I belong
to Mulder. I am his, and this proves it.
He slowly pulls out of me, drawing my skirt back down to
its intended length and zipping his trousers gingerly. He
turns my limp body over and presses his lips to mine in
a surprisingly chaste kiss, just barely brushing. “Ready
to go inside?” he asks, his voice still shaking.
I muster all of my remaining energy and nod. He
unlocks the trunk, pulls out our suitcases, and leads me
to our rooms. Well, to one of them.
End Part One
TITLE: Heartland II: Deserts Dry (2 of 2)
AUTHOR: Eiluned
E-MAIL: volcanogirl42@hotmail.com
RATING: NC-17
For disclaimer, etc., see part one.
XxX
Mulder drops the keys while trying to unlock the motel
room door. He gives me a quick grin before retrieving
the cactus key ring and wrestling the door open.
The room is surprisingly clean, for a place that bears an
eerie resemblance to the Bates Motel. Mulder drops our
suitcases on the dresser and I lock the deadbolt.
There is a muffled sproing behind me, and I turn to see
Mulder still bouncing from his fall onto the bed. His feet
stick off of the end of the mattress and he stares at the
ceiling. “Tired?” I ask.
He shoots me a lascivious grin. “Not that tired.”
I toe my shoes off and stretch my feet out. Whoever
invented pumps should be horse-whipped. If I were any
taller, I’d live in little, flat ballerina slippers. My jacket
lands on one of the chairs, my blouse on the other. My
skirt stays where it lands. Standing in my bra and
stockings, I plant my hands on my hips and look down at
Mulder. His eyes slipped closed before my impromptu
striptease, and I can’t wait to see his face when he
opens his eyes. In the meantime, I watch him doze. His
lips fall open and I know that he is just about to really
crash. I quietly lean over him...
“Boo,” he says suddenly, reaching up to grab me and
wrestle me to the bed.
I can’t help the startled yelp at his attack. Okay, so he’s
good at playing possum. I’ll file that away for later use.
Meanwhile, he’s divested me of my bra and is busily
sucking at my nipples. I slide my hands into his hair,
tugging him up until I can ravage his mouth.
Mulder groans and tugs his unbuttoned shirt over his
head. I immediately storm the new expanse of bare
skin, biting at his nipples, sliding my tongue up from his
navel to the little dip under his throat. I could taste him
forever. His skin has this unique flavor that hovers
between spicy and tangy. Like Thai food, I think with a
laugh.
He flips me over and situates himself on top of me. I
make quick work of his trousers and boxer shorts,
sliding them down his legs with my feet. He rubs
himself up against me, hitting a particularly sensitive
spot that makes me jump and gasp. Oh, my. He’s
already hard again. Quite a feat for a man his age.
“Quick reload time,” I breathe, letting my hands get
reacquainted with his nether regions.
He grins smugly at me. “Oh, well. You know, being a
stud and all...”
I slap his ass and that shuts him up for the time being.
He leans down and plunders my mouth. I fight back,
thrusting my tongue up into his mouth, but it’s no use.
We both know who will win this battle.
So, I let him have his way, and he slides down my body,
nipping and kissing and licking every inch of skin. Just
before he settles his roving mouth between my thighs, I
sit up. He gives me a questioning look and I smile slyly
at him. “Lie on your back,” I order.
He cocks his eyebrow. “Oh, so you think you’re in
charge now?” he asks.
“No. I just want you to lie on your back.”
He shrugs his assent and makes a bouncing dive onto
his back. I don’t know how he can be so damned
energetic. His eyebrows lift again, curious about my
intentions. I crawl up the bed, smirking at him and
quickly spin so that my face is hovering over his cock.
He grabs my hips and pulls me over him, so that I’m
straddling his head, now having to stretch to reach his
cock. He hums his approval of my chosen position, and
then dives in.
I tense at the first touch of his tongue, nearly forgetting
what I am down here for. He dips inside of me, then
gives my sex a long, slow lick. I sigh shakily and skim
my tongue down the underside of his cock, wetting my
lips before letting him slide down into my throat.
His body goes rigid underneath me, a moan vibrating
from him into me. Backing off a bit, I catch the ridge
with my tongue, sucking lightly on just the head. He
grunts and goes back to his task with renewed fervor,
seeking out all of those little hot spots that he
discovered on our last go-round.
Mulder takes me so high, so quickly, that I lose control
of all motor functions except hip grinding. My head falls
to rest on his thigh. He groans and jerks his hips up,
reminding me of my duties, and I moan, not quite ready
to be distracted yet.
And then he stops. Mother fucking tease. “No more
until you learn not to be selfish,” he says in a sing-song
voice. Grudgingly, I regain control of my tongue and
make a quick swipe over his sac, ending with a little
twist on his perineum. He cries out and starts sucking
my clit hard. I mentally applaud myself. The judges
from Sweden and the Netherlands gave that move a
ten.
And suddenly, I’m coming. It hits me without warning,
like those tornadoes that aim for trailer parks. Weird
simile, I know, but it’s all I can come up with in my
present state of bucking on Mulder’s tongue.
Still twitching, I lick my lips and let Mulder’s cock slide
back into my mouth, getting down to business. His head
falls back onto the pillow and he lets out this wonderful
moan. I take that as encouragement and suck him in as
deeply as I can, sliding my tongue around his thick shaft
with every dip of my head.
He tenses up like a bowstring, ready to let fly at any
moment. I suck harder, flicking my tongue under the
ridge, and he suddenly comes.
His cries and moans sound like music to my ears. I
swallow everything, sucking him completely dry. I keep
my lips wrapped around his cock until he collapses into
a shuddering mass.
I lick his salty-sweet taste from my lips and settle down
into his arms. The world winks out before I can even
say good night.
XxX
End
XxX
Like this one? Let me know, please... I have
astonishingly low self esteem. :` Well, not really, but my
shrink says I need affirmation of my worth, whatever the
hell that means.
Feedback given tongue baths at:
volcanogirl42@hotmail.com
Visit the rest of my fic at Blue Velvet.
http://trax.to/BlueVelvet