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Shear Bliss

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One hundred and twenty-six days on the road and his hair is beginning to give away the miles they’ve traveled. Scraggly and long, the curling wisps tickled the back of his neck until he could no longer stand the annoyance. He told her as they pulled into the motel parking lot that the business-in-the-front-party-in-the-back look had worn out its welcome, which is how he now finds himself sitting in a rickety wooden chair in the middle of a dingy motel room. Towels are laid out around the chair to catch the clippings as they fall from his bare shoulders. Scully quietly works through the chestnut curls at the back of his neck and he can feel the cottony sleeve of her robe brush his shoulder as she trims his hair. The local news channel on low and the gentle snip of Scully’s scissors are the only sounds in the room. The feeling of her fingernails scraping across his scalp has his brain rushing on an eighty-eight mile per hour Delorean trip back to the rainy April night when they finally became one committed unit. They had spent the several months prior to that evening worshipping each other’s offering of bodies, but that night Dana Scully offered Mulder her soul. It’s his favorite memory.

He had left her to sleep on his couch. After cleaning up their mugs he went to the bathroom to begin his evening routine. When he exited the bathroom she was standing in his doorway motioning for him to come to her. Standing silent in front of him, she removed her jacket, then calmly walked past him and gently placed it at the foot of his bed. He followed her and reached for the hem of her green sweater, but she swatted his hand away. He looked at her in confusion. She smiled and lifted the sweater over her head, folded it neatly, and placed it on the floor next to his bed. She then lowered the zipper on the side of her skirt and placed the garment with her sweater. After rolling her nylons down her legs he tried again to help her remove the last of her clothing and again she slapped his hands away and stripped down until completely nude. She then took him by the hand, climbed into his bed and he spent the evening in awe of her as she used her body to explain to him that he was her only path. He remembers making his way down her body, using his lips and tongue to blaze his trail. He remembers the feeling of holy awe when his bullet scar touched hers as he leaned across her torso to taste the crook of her arm. This was different from their love making of the previous few months. This was sacred. This was communion.

His reminiscing mind slams back to the present as he feels her lean close and blow cool air across the back of his neck. He knows she’s exhausted and doesn’t want to push his luck, but his desire and his cock are craving attention, the worn out denim of his jeans uncomfortably tight. She comes around to his front, bending slightly to put herself at his eye level. She runs her fingers through his hair, holding the ends out to judge their evenness in length. Blue crashes into hazel and he knows she is stuck, unable to look away. He realizes as he stares that he is breathing her expelled air and the tension snaps.

A hand takes her hip; the other clutches the back of her neck and he pulls her to his lap, a smothered gasp and the slight thud of scissors and comb hitting carpet adding to the hushed noise of the weather report. Mulder’s fevered hands traverse her breasts and down to the sash to make quick work of her robe, leaving pale pink panties the only article of clothing on her body. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband as he crushes his lips to hers. He sucks her lower lip between his and after a second of worrying the tissue with his teeth he bites down, taking advantage of her gasp to slide his tongue into her mouth. Their tongues dance and his thumbs continue to flirt with the waistband of her panties. He would rip them right off her hips, but that would mean unlocking their lips and unwrapping his tongue from around hers.

She winds her arms around his neck and he can feel her rock-hard nipples press into the muscles of his chest. His hands make their way to the small of her back and with gentle pressure he guides her hips against his erection. He can feel her heat through his jeans and he has to get closer to that flame. Shoving his hands into the back of her underwear, he grasps the globes of her ass and stands. She wraps her strong, muscular legs around him and the abrupt jolt of pleasure he feels from the entire weight of her slamming onto the bulge in his jeans pulls his mouth from hers in a feral growl. He is paralyzed with passion. He can’t seem to make a move to the bed, instead stupidly standing there with the glow of the television reflecting off the skin of his back, Scully trying desperately to bounce in his arms. His paralysis is miraculously cured when she takes his left earlobe in between her teeth and bites.

Making his way to the queen-sized bed he tosses her; pale, firm breasts bounce as she makes rough contact with the mattress. She props herself up on her elbows as she gapes at him. For a moment, he simply stares at her staring at him. He can’t tell if the shock on her face is a good thing or not, but she reassures him in the form of a naughty little smile and shucks her panties from her hips.

Their love-making these past four months they’ve been on the run has been slow, sweet, beautiful and passionately intimate joinings of body and soul as they reconnected after being apart for so long. But this is different. This is frenzy. Rough. Exciting. God, it feels good just to fuck her.

She is a decadent banquet laid out before him and he is a starving man ready to feast. He sees his arousal reflected in her eyes and he catches her glancing down to observe the erection pushing at the denim of his jeans. Her eyes lift and keeping them locked on his she slowly spreads her legs as far as she can. He growls and dives in. He makes no pretense as he shoves his tongue into her as far as he can, his nose pressing to her clit. He nearly comes undone when he hears her scream out God’s name and a deep groan escapes his throat when her nails scrape his scalp to clutch him to her core, her juices flowing as he laps at her folds. One hand holds on to the clenched cheek of her ass while the other makes its way between her legs. He lifts his face and sucks her clit as he moves two fingers inside her. He roughly shoves his fingers into her and slowly withdraws.

Repeating this over and over and over again, he never changes his pace. The rise and fall of her hips act as a barometer for him to gauge the pressure building inside of her. He can feel every one of her muscles tensing, from her toes on up as she builds closer and closer to her peak. Before she can topple however, he releases her. He looks up at her and smiles. Her eyes are shut tight and she has a death grip on his hair as he slips his fingers from her and gently blows a stream of cold air over her, periodically flicking the tip of his tongue over the swollen nub while he gently brings her down. Finally, he feels
her muscles relax. This is his cue. He roughly shoves the flat of his tongue against her swollen clit, using the intense and sudden pressure to bring her off. She breaks apart with his face between her
thighs.

She is still contracting and quaking when he opens his fly and works his shaft into her. He can’t even bother with removing his jeans, although he knows the denim must be scraping her sensitive inner thighs. He slowly withdraws and enters again, deeper now, repeating the process until he is fully inside
her. He needs a moment, but there is no possible way he can make her keep her hips still. Despite her clear desperation, he has a brief thought that perhaps he has been too rough with her and he tries to slow down and ease up, but when he changes his pace, Scully reaches up and places two hands on each pectoral and shoves him.

He rears back onto his heels, his glistening cock bobbing against his stomach. She flips over, getting up on hands and knees and grabs the worn, chipped, wooden headboard. He comes up on his knees behind her, takes himself in hand...and hesitates. She slides her eyes his direction over her shoulder and lifts one corner of her lips and he can’t help but smirk back in return, excitement pulsing through his veins. He places the head of his cock against her, grabs her waist with both hands, and snaps his hips into hers as hard as he can. Mulder sets a quick, staccato pace and Scully as usual matches it perfectly, her hips slamming back to meet his. He can always count on her matching him stride for stride, thrust for thrust.

Lifting a hand off her body, he tangles his fingers through her recently dyed blond tresses. He gives a quick tug and a breathy yelp escapes her lips. From this angle above her, he can see the red roots beginning to appear, and he wishes she could allow her natural color to show, that they weren’t running for their lives, that they could go back to that brief happiness they shared a year ago. He remembers her brassy locks pressed softly against his son’s downy head and he thrusts roughly into her, desperate to shake the memory out of his skull.

He feels himself climbing towards the inevitable but he’s determined to set her off again before he gives in to his own little death. Adjusting his aim until he feels the length of his cock slide against the rough, spongy spot inside her, he unleashes furious speed; leaning back, he holds onto her hips as he flies in and out of her. A scream of affirmation echoes off the yellowed walls as she explodes, quaking and contracting around the hardness of him. His guttural shout joins hers and he pours himself into her. A brief moment of secretly wishing they weren’t out of miracles crosses over his synapses and neurons, but he lets it go, knowing this isn’t a good time for any such miracle even if lightning were to strike twice.

They collapse. She helps him peel the jeans from his body and curls into his arms. She rests her cheek against his chest, kissing his nipple as he buries his nose in her hair, inhaling deeply. They stay like that as their breathing slows. Scully reaches over to the nightstand and grabs the remote, plunging the room into silence. She smiles down at Mulder, gently kisses his lips and puts her head back on his chest. They are beginning to drift off when Mulder breaks the silence.

“You know, I think your hair might be getting a bit long, Scully…”