“Let’s take this slow,” he’d whispered into the shell of her ear, the warmth of his breath eliciting a shudder across her whole body. Goosebumps adorned every inch of her skin, and he took his time feeling them all as if reading a message coded in the braille of her flesh.
A smile spread on his face as he felt what was communicated beneath his fingertips. I want you.
Everything they did was slow, a metronome set the pace for a dance that was they never anticipated would happen.
Slow was years of partnership before saying the words I love you. For years merely experiencing them through a touch or a gaze and hoping the other person would ever know how much they meant.
Slow was the seven years she had to live through before she knew that the actual feeling of his lips against hers was better than anything she could have ever imagined. That her dreams couldn’t accurately depict the scrapes of his facial hair rubbing against the skin around her mouth, the shuddered breaths he released out of his nose as he’d rather suffocate than break the kiss, the echo his moan would make in her mouth as she tried to swallow him whole.
Anticipation was the silent killer of man, and she’d be damned if she died waiting for him to touch her when they fought monsters on a weekly basis.
It takes a space shuttle one hundred and fifty seconds to leave earth’s atmosphere, and Mulder had spent the same amount of time still planted on her skin of her inner thigh, gently bumping against her pubic mound while kissing her sweetly.
“I’m ready,” she whispered against his mouth.
He took himself in his hand and guided himself to her entrance, asking permission he’d already had for longer than she could even remember.
Fast was how she fell for him. A rainy night in the graveyard cementing her love and, little did she know, her life. Every moment and every second since just rapidly adding to the affection that just continued to grow at an unimaginable rate.
Fast was the racing of her heart whenever he touched her like this, when ever he looked at her. Her pulse so high it was a constant strum she was sure he could see in her neck. The way her knees shook and her palms sweat at the simple utterance of her name in that sensual baritone.
He eased into her inch by inch, eyes scanning her face to make sure she was comfortable. When he was fully in her, they took a moment to breath as time stood still.
Mulder and Scully. Scully and Mulder.
The only two variables that would never change.
He started a slow pumping in and out of her, restraint evident in the furrow of his brow. She wrapped her legs around his waist and encouraged him with a single word.
They didn’t need to go slow anymore.
And they never did.