The clearing itself was well lit and encircled by torches blazing against the
night sky. Within the circle of flame was a long stone table upon a slab of
granite that was almost a shade darker and high back chairs jutted up from the
slab—one on either end. And there he was... sitting at the far end.
He was a dark figure. His legs were crossed, and the hands that rested in his
lap contained a leather bound volume. The dark mane of sable hair hung down
slightly, almost obscuring the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.
I was silent and still, hiding in the darkness. But as if he were startled by
some noise, his head suddenly cocked to the side facing me. "Come on out, Alex.
I assure you, we are alone." He closed the book, marking his place with a red
silk ribbon, and placed it on the table before him. He rose to his feet and
extracted himself from behind the table, giving me a much better view of my
former partner.
Pausing before revealing myself, I took the opportunity to conduct a more
detailed inventory of the picture he presented.
His black suit, a heavy linen weave by the look of it, draped perfectly from his
body and flowed fluidly with each movement. The jacket, well tailored,
accentuated his squared shoulders and well defined back; the pants hung down
from narrow, but strong, hips. His black silk dress shirt had the top two
buttons undone, revealing the sharp contrast of his golden skin beneath it. The
wire rimmed glasses remained on his face, which carried an air of solemnity. In
his ear—a barely perceptible glint from a thin gold hoop that rested
against the backdrop of his thick dark hair.
I stepped from the shadows and faced him directly with my weapon drawn. "Put the
gun away, Alex." He slithered a few steps toward me and stopped. "As you can
see, I am unarmed." Carefully, he raised each pant leg in turn, and then opened
his jacket wide and turned from side to side. "Nothing up my sleeves either," he
said, shaking each one.
The subtle smile that crossed his lips sent shivers down my spine. I couldn't
put my finger on it, but he was different somehow. I'm not talking about the
clothes or the silver tipped boots or the earring or even the smell of Eternity
that was carried by the gentle breeze. HE was different. The danger that rolled
off him radiated in waves. He was assured in his posture, almost cocky. And the
look in his eyes, hiding behind those glasses, was raw hunger.
"You always have something up your sleeve, Mulder," I said with more confidence
than I was feeling, and less intimidation than I had hoped. This was not a Fox
Mulder I knew how to deal with—yet.
He's here—I can feel him. But, being as predictable as he is, he's
surveying the surrounding area for evidence of a trap. I decide to give him a
few minutes to ease his mind of any physical threat There is no trap here
tonight that will cage your body, Alex. Only your mind.
He's watching me now. I rise to my feet and step away from the table out in the
open. " Come on out, Alex." I can feel his eyes travelling over my body—how
delicious. It's time for the game to begin.
I demonstrate my lack of weapons to him, and I can see the confusion stretch
across his face. Oh, Alex. You of all people should know that people aren't
always what they pretend to be.
"What do you want from me, Mulder? Why all the theatrics?" Trepidation, fear,
and curiosity all dance in turn across his eyes. He_is_beatuiful. From the top
of his crown of sleek, dark hair—to the tips of his black, scuffed survival
boots—he is perfect. The ultimate challenge.
There was a time when processing him would have been easy—the eager young
agent with the barely concealed hero-worship. It would have taken very little
effort to get him into my bed. But there was no appeal for me. I already
possessed his mind, anything else would have been—well, anticlimactic. This
is a different Alex Krycek.
Gone were the bad suits and rigidly gelled hair. In their place was left
something far more interesting. This Alex was battle weary. The lines of tension
that creased his chiseled features had become a permanent fixture.
"I want nothing from you. We're here tonight to talk about what I can give you."
The grip he had on his gun stiffened. I knew if we were going to make any
headway tonight, he was going to have to lose the hardware. "Please, Alex. You
know I am unarmed. If you'd like to frisk me you may. Tonight, we're here to
talk. Put the gun down." I motioned for him to place it on the table. And to my
pleasant surprise, he did.
"Good."
"You still haven't answered me. What am I doing here?" he asked.
"Actually, that is not a question I can answer for you. My message simply gave
you the location and asked you to meet me here. I suppose the real question is
why did you come?" There, that should set him off balance a little.
His eyes searched my face furiously, looking for any hint of my true intentions,
trying to grab hold of something—anything—familiar. "I guess I came to
see what you wanted. It isn't very often you send me a polite note and then
greet me without trying to beat my head in."
"This brings me back to my original statement. I want to give you something." I
move toward him slowly, not wanting to scare him, but he moved instinctively
away, backing up toward the other end of the table. "Please sit down and hear me
out. If my proposition doesn't appeal to you, you can walk away from
here—no harm, no foul. If what I have to say interests you...well, we'll
take this one step at a time. Agreed?" I could see the confusion in his face
turn to suspicion, but no matter, that's a wall I can break down, too.
He nodded cautiously, and he took his seat. "Your darkest fantasy, Alex, tell me
about it." All right, Mulder, go straight for the jugular, why don't you!
"What?! What the f..." I raised my hand forcefully to stop him in mid-sentence.
"On second thought, let me tell you. You are always so in control of yourself,
of your situations. You dominate everyone and everything around you whether it's
by manipulation or sheer force. I'm sure there are times you wish you could just
escape." My voice had turned silken of its own volition. "Let someone else take
control. Let someone else hold the reigns. I want to give you that."
"You're sick, Mulder. You're delusional." His voice was strong, but he didn't
get up—he didn't leave. "What could possibly make you think that I would
ever trust you to control me?!" he added with just a hint of uncertainty.
AHH...I have you now my pretty.
"Because you trust me, Alex. With all the opportunities I've had to kill you, I
haven't. Because when I've given you my word, I've never double-crossed you. And
because you want to." He was silent, which means he's thinking. Good, Alex,
good. Let those little gears go to work.
I continued, "It's true, Alex. You want to trust me. You want to put your life
in my hands, and know that it's safe. But you want more than that. You want me."
Okay, you've gone this far. Let's see if he can handle the next step.
"After your little lecture in my apartment some time ago, I started thinking
about all the things you've done. You've done a lot of bad things, Alex. And
though, now, I realize you've done them for the right reasons, the price for
your crimes must still be paid. The God of the Bible required a sacrifice in
order for the sins of the people to be forgiven. So do I. No, not a blood
sacrifice; something far more valuable. I want your soul, Alex. I want that self
-control you cling to so fiercely placed in the palm of my hand; I want you to
give yourself to me freely—completely. Mind. Body. Spirit."
Alex bowed his head.
He finally realized I'm fighting his fight. I couldn't believe that I had
just heard the words from Mulder's mouth that my heart had been screaming for so
long. How long I had wanted to tell him, make him understand that I was on his
side.
Someone had to be on the inside. Someone had to be down in the trenches with the
rats. It couldn't be him—I wouldn't let it. He deserved to walk in the
light. He was noble and good and all the things I had always hoped I would be
and never was. But one day I realized, I didn't have to be. I could help
him—keep him from the dirty work that had to be done. In order for him to
win his battle, he had to remain innocent. I could give him that. I could take
the sins that could have been his onto myself. I could give up my soul to spare
his. And that is precisely what I have done.
I don't apologize for the choices I've made. If I had to, I would do it all
again—as long as he was protected for the darkness, nothing else matters.
My only regret...the darkness made me his enemy. In saving him—I lost him.
He was the only one who ever inspired anything inside me, and now I was a wretch
in his sight. I long for his forgiveness. He is the only one who can offer me
redemption, and bring me back into the light. Only through him can my sins be
forgiven. And if he were to know that, he would control me indeed. Something was
very wrong here.
And here he was...offering me atonement. I search his eyes looking for some
trace of guile, but there isn't any. I see the mischief and the power, but no
malice. It can't be this easy.
"And you're the one that gets to extract payment?" I ask, trying to find a
loophole in his offer. "Why should you have the privilege of punishing me? There
are many others out there who..." he cuts me off again with a simple raise of
his hand.
"Because, I'm the only one who can," he says quietly. "And you know it."
I always wondered when you'd turn on the profiler inside, Mulder, and finally
know me. I've always known he could get inside my head if he chose; I guess
I finally gave him a good enough reason. What the matter, Mulder? One little
kiss knock you off of you sanctimonious perch?
The look on his face, the rigid stance of his body, the air surrounding him all
speak of some indefinable driving force that brought us both to this place and
time. He's right of course; he is the only one who can.
He steps forward and stands directly if front of me. Reaching into his inside
breast pocket, he draws out a crisp, pristine white card and places it down on
the table. "Think about it, Alex. Think hard. This is a one-time
offer—refuse and it will never be made again. But if you decide that this
is in fact what you want, meet me at this address tomorrow—9pm." He slides
the card toward me and taps it lightly with his forefinger before turning away.
He walks back to the other end of the table and picks up his book, leaving my
gun in place. Without looking back at me, he walks away.
Once again I can feel him approach. I can feel it as surely as I know he thinks
he's going to survive this night in tact and unscathed. Every since the moment I
choose to live inside the mind of Alex Krycek, I can sense him, smell him on the
wind, sometimes I can even reach out and touch his skin before he evaporates
into the clouds of my dreams. He's become a part of me.
This is the part of what I do that I dread the most. Knowing him, thinking him
every waking minute, taking him into myself—it's hard to distinguish what
parts of my mind are still mine and what has become him. I never wanted to
profile him because I knew that it would become impossible separate myself
afterwards.
It was a harsh realization for me. Like a man who has been blindfolded being
thrust out into the glare of the noonday sun without his protective shield, I
had hidden my eyes from ever seeing past the betrayal. But there were things
beyond that betrayal that could bring him back to me. All we needed was the
strength to come out the other end alive.
"I'm glad to see you've accepted my offer," I said as he approached me.
"You know I can never resist a challenge," he replied. But I could see his
apprehension in every sinewy inch of muscle. He was ready to spring at the
slightest provocation.
"Let's dispense with the bravado, Alex. We both know why you're really here. But
I will give you one last chance to back out. Stay if you choose, but know it
will be on my terms and at your own peril." I was running a risk here. This
moment would set our lives on an irrevocable course.
I came. What other choice could I have made? He stood before me and held out my
Grail and expected me not to grasp at it; but here I was. And I was ready for
whatever he could dish out. Nothing he could do to me would torture me more than
I tortured myself everyday.
The arrogance in his voice was laughable, but for some reason it enraged me.
"I'm here. I made my choice. I just hope you know what you're dealing with," I
spat back at him. This is what I want! Why am I still pushing him?!
When he had given me the card, I recognized the printed address
immediately—the summerhouse on the Vineyard. I had found him in the garden
overlooking the bay below.
"Why here, Mulder?" I asked. "I figured you would avoid any of your own demons
if you were going to try and tame mine."
"I just thought it a poetic justice," his voice as cool as the trade winds
coming off the water. "You never know, we may have the same demons." He walked
toward me, closing the distance between us. "First things first, Alex...your
weapons..." he said as he extended his hand palm up. When I flinched away, his
eyes raked over me, cutting me to the core. He saw my fear; he saw my anger.
Just then, his face changed. It was softer than it had been and the concern I
saw there was real. "I just want us both to survive this," he said in something
softer than a whisper.
"Be careful, Mulder. I don't want to see this game of yours backfire on you," I
said. Even I was surprised at the ice dripping from my words. But I was even
more surprised when I saw myself giving him my gun.
He clasped his hand around the weapon, and smiled. "Let's go for a walk."
Turning, he headed for the gazebo at the edge of the property overlooking the
water. Just to the right of it was a small campfire already blazing. The view
was breathtaking. As we approached the small structure, I suddenly felt a
pressure at my elbow as he spun me toward him. He caught me off balance, and
before I could step back, I felt the heat of his mouth pressed against mine. It
was intoxicating. I allowed him to walk me backwards until I could feel the wood
under my feet.
He ran his hands across my cheeks and down my neck..across my shoulders and
down my arms. I had wanted this for so long, how could I pull away from his
taste? His touch? His lips still crushed against mine, I barely noticed when he
gently took hold of my wrists and raised them above my head. He slid his
fingertips up and down from wrists to waist tracing every ripple of muscle and
every rib; his mouth never straying from mine. With each pass of his fingers
dancing over my sides, he sent me drifting farther and farther until the almost
inaudible click of the manacles brought me back to Earth.
I pulled away from him and looked up to see a white leather chain hanging from a
thick support beam that stretched across the top of the gazebo. At the end of
the chain two velvet lined wrist cuffs with my wrists in them. How could I be
so stupid! One kiss...that's all it took to put me off guard... one fucking
kiss! Touché.
My rage consumed me and I lunged at him. "Shh, shhh, my pet," he said stroking
me. But the more he touched me the more I fought to get free and thrash him for
doing this to me. "Please, my pretty one, don't force me to bind your feet as
well. I would so much rather you had a degree of mobility."
Again he pressed his lips to mine, holding me by the hair on the back of my
head. Waiting for me to calm, he spoke into my mouth, "Just let me lead you.
You'll be fine if you just trust me." I could taste his breath, feel his heat
pressed against me—his scent inundating me.
He deepened the kiss, probing my mouth with the delicate touch of a craftsman.
And when I felt myself weakening, allowing him possession, I tore myself away
with a cry. "It won't be that easy, Mulder."
He wants this, but he's going to fight me every step of the way. That's okay.
We'll see this through together.
He is beautiful when he's caged. He's glaring at me through those venomous
eyes—the ones that can stir arousal in the most ardent puritan. I have to
bring him back; he has to be mine.
"I want to remove your shirt, Alex. May I?" I ask in the most off handed tone
that I can manage.
"No! What do you think you're doing?!" He's afraid You should be. Don't
worry, I am, too. The sound of the back of my hand against his cheek rings
in my ears like thunder. I can see the redness forming; I can even feel the
sting. "Do not raise your voice again. Now may I remove your shirt?"
He shakes his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Why?" is all he can manage to
say without betraying himself.
I reached out my hand to stroke the silken strands of hair that have fallen in
front of his eyes "Because, it must be. Now I will ask you once again. May I
remove your shirt?"
"Yes," he sighs as he bows his head. Step by step, pet.
I reach into my pocket and take out a silver switchblade that glistens in the
moonlight. There has been fear in his eyes since we started down this road, but
what I see now is terror. He holds his breath as he feels the cool blade touch
the heated skin on his forearm. He gasps when he hears the tearing of the cloth
of his shirt as the blade travels up toward his shoulder. He jerks away when he
knows the same blade is approaching his throat. No, pretty, that won't pay
the price. I walk to the other side of him and give his other sleeve the
same treatment.
Sweat has broken out all over him, and when I cut the center of his shirt
directly down the path of his sternum, I can see the shimmering droplets
journeying down his body. Reaching out with one finger, I catch one drop and
bring it to my lips. My god, you taste sweet. More!
"There...was that so terrible?" When I see him trembling, my heart quakes.
"Relax, Alex. I'm here with you. I won't leave you," I whisper gently in his
ear, stroking his cheek with the pad of my thumb. A fleeting kiss planted on his
cheek as I pull away.
How many times has he hit me, yet not one of those blows—though the bruises
may have been bigger—inflicted the kind of pain I feel right now. Stop
it! You've been beaten before; this is no different. For I know he will take
his pleasure—his revenge—and leave me for the soulless monster he
believes me to be.
If only I could believe his words..."I won't leave you." Yes, you will,
Mulder. In the cold grey morning, you will return to the light of your world,
and send me back to the darkness from which I came. But, I can't believe
him.
I turn my face from him, and fix my stare directly into the light of the fire.
It's time; I don't want it to be, but justice must be served. He and I will
never be on an equal plane until that blind guardian has been given her due.
When she has been satisfied then he can be MINE.
I reach down and retrieve the leather strap from beside the fire and begin
heating it in the blaze.
I can hear the panic rising in his breathing. "Mulder, what are you doing?"
nothing but terror in that sweet voice. Better not to look at him now. Never
be able to do it if I look. "MULDER...what are you doing?!" the panic rising
even more.
When I can smell the leather burning, I remove it from the flame and take my
position behind him. He tries to turn—to follow my movements—but he is
bound and one firm hand on his hip keeps him in place. "It'll be over soon. I
won't leave you," I whisper in his ear. He can hear the pain in my voice, but he
can't see the tear running down my cheek.
"Please..." he pleads before the first lash stripes his perfect skin.
Anguish...he is suffering, and I am helpless. I watch his body convulse and
stiffen as the welt begins to rise where the flesh has been seared.
Suddenly there is a change. He locks his body down, and I can actually see his
defenses come up to shield him from the torture. He's made of stone now, but
even stone crumbles eventually.
Standing firm once more, he casts an icy look over his shoulder. "You won't
win!" he shouts at me.
I move the hand that had been placed on his hip and slide it around so that my
arm encircles his waist—drawing him close to me. "Let it go, Alex. Let me
save you." Pulling away become more than a physical act; I won't leave
him—I can't leave me—but he must do this one thing alone. I can't take
what he won't give. One more stripe appears across his shoulders with the rise
and fall of my hand. He stumbles forward and moans at the pain, but he will not
cry out.
"It starts with you, Alex. You know what you need to do." My forgiveness means
nothing unless he forgives himself. Please, Alex. Please don't make me do
this. One more stripe.
"Noooo," he cries out to me. "You don't know what you're asking! I can't..." his
words are cut off by my hand over his mouth, and I step in front of him. Lifting
his chin, I lean down and claim his mouth once more. His tongue pumps at me,
begging me to bring this to an end. But he is the only one that can stop this
now.
"You can and you will, my pet," I whisper against his lips. "There is no other
way. I don't want to hurt you, but I told you from the beginning there would be
no turning back." We're almost there, baby. Please don't quit now. "Now
do what needs doing and we can move on."
One more stripe, and he has lost all strength. Dangling from his bonds, he lifts
his face so I can see the tears streaming from his eyes. "I'm sorry," is all he
can say before his head slumps to his chest and he gives up his ghosts.
"Thank you, my pet," as the tears follow freely down my own cheeks. "Now it is
finished."
Sunlight falling on my face wakes me from the deepest sleep I've had in a
long time. It feels good to be so refreshed until I try to stretch the slumber
from my body, and I'm suddenly painfully reminded of what sent me so far into
oblivion. I try and sit up, but only make it half way before every muscle in my
body protests. God...I hurt all over. But at least now I can look around
and try to figure out where I am.
Big fluffy feather bed, thick down comforter on top...must be a corner room
because two of the four walls are comprised almost completely of windows that
come three quarters of the way down to the floor, making it feel like the whole
room is flooded in sunlight...safe here...warm I think to myself as I
snuggle my face back into the pillow. But I know this feeling won't last; it
never does.
Pushing myself to get up from the soft haven, I feel a tug on my back and
realize that my wounds have been bandaged and cared for. The cold hardwood floor
beneath my feet also leads me to the revelation that I'm wearing nothing—at
all. I must have passed out. He took care of me and put me to bed. He didn't
just leave me there. Suddenly the need to get as far away as I can
overwhelms me, and I make my way over to the chair in the corner where I see the
remains of my clothing. Grabbing my jeans, I shuck them on as quickly as I can
considering that muscles I didn't even know I had are screaming at me to get
back into bed. Before I even have a chance to pull up the zipper, he appears in
the doorway looking happier than I've ever seen him. For a moment I can feel joy
at the sight of him, but just as quickly, it's gone—replaced by what I can
only describe as rage. He must see it on my face—in my eyes—because
the smile leaves his lips and his body tenses the way !
it always does when he knows he's in trouble.
"Before you do something we'll both regret, I just want to tell you that you're
free to leave if you want." I've heard him use this voice before. Calm,
soothing, manipulative...it's the voice he uses to make the most outlandish idea
appear somehow plausible. He points to the dresser beside me. "There are some
t-shirts in the second from the top, help yourself." With that, I turn my
attention toward the drawer. "But before you go will you let me take another
look at your back; you could probably use some more ointment on the..."
"On the what, Mulder? On the lash marks you put there?!" The venom pouring out
of me unchecked fills the room with an almost tangible hatred. How could
you? "Thanks, but no thanks. If you try and touch me again, I_will_kill_you.
Nod your head if you understand."
"Who do you think your fooling? You must be trying to convince yourself, because
that bullshit doesn't work with me and you know it! You want to know why don't
you? You want to know how I could do to you what I did? Well, if you want the
answers then sit down and shut the fuck up." I feel myself giving in to him, my
traitorous body obeying his command as I sit in the chair. And I wait for his
pleasure yet again.
"Then why?" What else is there to ask?
"Because you needed it. Because there was never going to be a time where you
wouldn't think about all the things you've done without feeling the guilt, and
that guilt is what would have kept us apart. I love you, Alex. I want us to be
together and I'm willing to fight anyone who will keep us apart—even if
it's you."
He crosses the room and stands in front of me. He seems ten feet tall I want
you. but before I have the chance to be afraid, he reaches out his hand and
whispers his fingers across my jaw line. "I know you're confused...the truth of
the matter is that I am, too." He drops to his knees between mine, and keeping
his back straight, he locks me there with his eyes—and he holds me there. I
couldn't go now no matter how hard I tried. "I never wanted to hurt
you—please believe that."
"I...I..." words have failed me, but that doesn't really matter. I doubt any
exist that would be adequate at the moment. But even in this he saves me as he
presses his fingers to my lips to silence me.
"Shhhhh—before you say anything, I need you answer one question. Do you
want me?" For an instant, my heart stops. I've never wanted anything this much
in my miserable life. But this can't be real...can it? The incredulous look on
my face amuses him, because he is smiling once again. Now I am truly lost.
"Yes." Simple, honest, and direct...no denying this anymore.
"Then show me." His voice is tender and warm; almost as warm as the soft lips
he's pressing to my forhead.
I can feel him trembling against my lips. "Don't be afraid—not of me. From
this point on, I will never touch you again in anger."
I want to wrap him up in my arms and calm his fears, but he needs time. He
reminds me of a stray cat I used to feed as a child. If you tried to pick him up
or moved on him in any way he would run. But sit down and let him crawl into
your lap when he was good and ready, and then he would allow you anything.
"What do you want from me?" he asks timidly, as if he's scared of the answer.
"Let me love you. Tell me I can hold you. Show me you don't fear my touch." And
as much as I want to lean in and claim his mouth, I stay fast and let him make
his choice. Watching his eyes, I know the precise moment when resolution takes
hold. When he looks up at me through those dark lashes, all I can do hope that
he will...
Well, I did not see that coming. His mouth on mine hard and fast gives me all
the answer I need. I lace my fingers together on the back of his neck and pull
him close—deepening the kiss with every stroke of my tongue against his.
When he finally breaks away, heaving air into his lungs, I can see the want and
the need playing for dominance. Fuck or be fucked...'tis the age-old
question. I rise to my feet and extend my hand to him, and when he takes it,
I know he's mine—finally mine. "Come on, let's get a little more
comfortable," I answer to the pleading in his eyes.
As he stands, he rubs his still bare torso along the length of my body just
like that cat when it wanted to be played with and I can feel the heat of
him through the thin layer of clothing separating my body from his. We are face
to face as I wrap one arm around his waist and snake the other up the plane of
his chest, savoring the feel of him under my finger tips. I pull him in tighter
and press my groin to his in slow, deliberate circles. "Tell me, Alex. Whatever
it is you want, you'll have. All you have to do is tell me." And then our lips
meet again, but this time it's lazy and soft and all the things it always should
have been between us. I can feel him pouring his heart into this kiss, giving it
me willingly. And when it's over, the three most beautiful words ever
uttered—"Make me yours."
My answer, "As you wish, my pet."
The bed is rumpled and inviting, and he allows me to lead him back to it by the
hand. Standing at the edge of heaven, I take both his hands in mine and plant
feather kisses on each finger and place them at the collar of my shirt. "Undress
me, Alex." And with a tentative touch, he begins to undo the buttons one by one.
The skin of his chest is revealed to me inch by inch, and when every button is
undone and his chest lay bear before me, I can't resist tasting his skin.
Leaning forward and kissing him just above the right nipple, there is barely
time for my tongue to slip out and swipe over it just once before he takes my
chin in his hands and lifts me away. "No...not yet. Undress me first." His voice
washes over me, and his control takes hold of me. I nod my acceptance and lift
my hands to his shoulders to brush the fabric off and down to the ground.
I trail my hands down the lines of his sides until they land on the waistband of
his jeans. Bringing my fingers around to the front, I begin to unclasp each
button just had to wear a button fly, didn't you, and already I can feel
the strain against the fabric. As I begin to push them down his hips, my body
follows my hands until I'm kneeling at his feet and helping each bare foot out
of the pool of cloth. Looking up at him now, I realize that this is where I've
always wanted to be. And the look of tenderness on his face is the most
astounding gift I have ever been given.
He sits down on the bed and leans back against the headboard. "Now you," he
commands softly, but for some reason I hesitate; I guess I thought he would
undress me himself. But he simply smiles and says, "I want to watch you."
I stand and run my thumbs around the inside of my own waistband. If it's a
show he wants, then it's a show he'll get. Long seconds go by as my fingers
find their way back to the front and open up my jeans. I must have forgotten
to put my boxers back on earlier—thankyouthankyou. Pushing my hands
inside the open fabric, one is threading its way through the rough curls while
the other gently strokes the already rigid shaft. He's smiling at me still, but
something in his eyes warns me of a change. The fox is hungry. The growl
coming from deep within him stuns me. "That is mine. DO NOT TOUCH." As quickly
as I can, I remove the jeans and stand there waiting, but not for long.
With an arm extended to me he asks me for my hand and pulls me so that my knees
are against the bed. Turning himself toward me, I feel his legs wrap around
mine, and his hands coming up behind me. His fingers are digging into my ass,
and I can feel his breath warm and wet on my cock, and the only coherent thought
I have left is one word—please.
His tongue comes back out from behind those ridiculously full lips, and I watch
as it laps away the pearly white drop at the tip of my hardness, just before he
engulfs the head into his mouth. More...I want more, but he is working at
his own pace. He sucks down, moving his tongue around the ridge, teasing the
slit, and driving me blissfully insane. When he withdraws, the feeling of loss
is too much. My spine arches back of its own accord, and I cry out. But all he
gives me is one small kiss in the center of my his penis, and then leans
back and away. "Definitely mine," he says with unmistakable triumph.
My head is reeling. I wanted this; I gave him this power. And nothing on this
Earth is going to make me take it back. He wants me. And I am his.
He's shifting beneath me. I feel his legs come up a little higher; I didn't
expect to feel his heels pushing my knees out from under me, his firm hold
swinging my body to land flat on my back on the bed. oh, boy. You're not the
only one with a few surprises, Alex.
Naked beneath me, wanting me, needing my touch...I just don't know where to
begin. I feel like a child at a desert buffet—so many choices. Time to
dig in.
Taking his right hand in mine, I begin sampling his flavor at his fingertips and
move upward toward the inside of his palm. As my tongue traces his love line, my
lover bucks up against me harshly. "Stay still, Alex, or I will stop." And he
stills instantly, though I can feel the tremors of control wracking his body.
I proceed further to his wrist, and stop just long enough to nibble at his pulse
point. As I follow the lines of his veins with soft kisses, I feel his pulse
racing. "Breath slowly...enjoy this," I whisper against his skin. He nods in
response. And I have to give him credit, he really is trying.
Tongue, teeth, lips—each taking their turn along the curve of muscle on
the inside of his arm and up around his shoulder until I reach that incredible
rope of muscle along the side of his neck. His taste changes here. It turns
salty, spicy—pure Alex—and I can't get enough. Licking and biting
furiously, I can't help it when my hips begin to grind against him. And when he
sighs my name, I know I need to have this man right now.
Lifting myself, I give him a gentle nudge, directing him toward the center of
the bed. As he moves, I reach over to the night table and get the lube. The
things I'm going to do to you...
When he's settled, I go back to kissing, licking, biting him all over with
absolutely no rhyme or reason, just allowing my mouth to roam where it will, and
settle myself between his wide spread legs. And he is writhing, arching up into
my touch. "Mulder...please...I want..."
"What you want isn't important right now. Lay back and enjoy the ride, Alex.
You're mine now." And that's when my mouth descends on his rock hard cock.
Opening my throat, I take all of him in and suck down hard. The scream he lets
out vibrates down my spine and straight to the dick I know will be inside him
soon, but I must wait. He must say the words.
As I pull my mouth away, I feel his hands on my shoulders and hear his voice
begging me not to stop. "Lay still now, Alex, or we will stop until you can
control yourself again. It's your choice." Yeah, some choice. Whimpering
and moaning the whole time, somehow, he manages to calm himself to my
satisfaction. But he does jump when the cold gel touches his engorged flesh.
His head shoots up from the cradle of pillows and his eyes are wide with
confusion as I stroke him softly, smearing him in preparation. Beautiful.
And with a smile, I lean to kiss him tenderly. Not breaking the bond our mouths
have formed, my body moves to straddle his hips and position him at my entrance.
In one solid motion, I am impaled on him and he is screaming into the kiss that
has become a desperate effort. So good! God it hurts so sweet.
I can't move, for if I do this will be over sooner than I can allow. "Don't
come. Don't_you_dare_come." I can see that he is gratified to hear my breath is
as ragged as his own. It isn't till we have both regain some degree of control
that I begin to rock in only the faintest trace movement.
The need to slide myself up and down on top of him is almost unbearable, but
instead, I start to contract and relax the muscles surrounding him—teasing
him to levels of torment he probably didn't even know he was capable of
withstanding. And when he thinks he can take no more, I reach back and begin
stroking open his puckered hole. "Who do you belong to?" I ask in the steadiest
voice I can manage. He thrashes his head "no" in answer.
Picking up the pace, my hips begin a full grinding roll while my fingers delve
deep inside him, stretching him, but ever wary of that special spot not
yet. "Who do you belong to?" I ask again through clenched teeth. His eyes
are squeezed shut, his head still thrashing from side to side, but this time I
hear the "no" hiss from his body.
I slide myself up, leaving nothing but the head of his cock inside me, and slam
back down on him—over and over again. All the while my fingers stretching
him. And when the heel of my hand feels the tightening in his balls, I lift
myself from him and tighten a firm grip around the base of his cock. "NOOOOOO!"
But as he cries out, I reposition myself, lift his hips and ram myself into him,
hitting that wonderful secret place with unfailing accuracy. "God...YES...FUCK
ME, DAMN YOU...HARDER..."
OH GOD!
"WHO DO YOU BELONG TO?" I ask one last time punctuating each word with a thrust
of my hips and a stroke against his prostate and he has gone completely wild.
Bucking down, fucking himself on my dick as hard as he possibly can, but I won't
let go of the vice grip I have on the base of his until he answers me. You
wanna come, baby, then give me what I need. One more hard thrust...then
another...and another, and with this I begin stroking him in time with the
motion of our bodies. "Say it! Say it, Alex!"
"YOURS! Fuck...I'm yours!" he yells, and I hear his words in the very center of
my being as that sweet creamy fluid shoots out all over my hand and his chest.
His body convulses around me, milking me, drawing me over the edge with him in a
blinding flash of light, and I come deep inside him, wailing his name aloud. But
at this moment all I can think is No, love. I am yours.
His cheek resting against my chest, I can feel his breath coming out in gasping
breaths. Eventually, we both recover the ability for thought and motion, but he
is the first to stir. He rises from the bed and I watch dumbfounded as, without
a word, he leaves the room.
YOU BASTARD! I knew you'd do this! I cover my eyes with the heels of my
hands to try and stop the tears I know are eminent. I will not let you do
this to me! It was just another fuck. Just another dick in my ass—what's
the difference. I marvel to myself at the level of stupidity required to
allow myself to be...
The feel of a warm, wet cloth on my sensitized skin causes me to jump away from
the hand stroking my belly and chest. "Relax, babe. I just wanted to clean us up
a bit." He sees the fear on my face; I can tell when his expression changes that
once again he has seen inside my soul. Stop doing that! I can't look at
him; I can't bare that look of tenderness right now. "Where did you think I
went?" he asks in that feather-light voice you'd have to be made of stone to
resist.
I don't have the strength left to lie, and I don't think it would make a
difference anyway. I'm just tired of hiding. "I didn't think you'd be back."
He lies beside me and gathers me into the arms I could spend a lifetime in. "I
told you before I wouldn't leave you—I haven't changed my mind about that,"
he mutters against the nape of my neck, and suddenly my hair is standing on end.
"But we do have a few things to talk about."
This is it. This is where you get the brush off, buddy. You can't say you
didn't see this coming. "Like what? I ask trying to push the lump in my
throat back down to my stomach where it belongs.
"Like what you expect from this. What do you want from us, Alex?"
I can't be here. I can't have him touching me. RUN Pushing myself out of
the bed, I can't even look at him as I grab my jeans off the floor and start to
put them on. "I don't expect anything from you, " I answer, unable to hold back
the sobs in my voice. "You've gotten your retribution, you don't have to
pretend..." I can't complete my sentence because there are now lips pressed over
mine and a tongue coaxing its way inside me drawing out every last trace of
argument left in me. I have no choice but to give myself over to it and I hate
myself for it.
He's got me by the shoulders, and his grip is so tight that I'm sure it'll leave
bruises. When he pulls away, his eyes are blazing with a ferocity I've never
seen, not even when he held the strap in his hand. "No pretending anymore, do
you hear me?" he growls out through clenched teeth. "I am not going to play this
game anymore. I love you, Alex." I fight to get away from him, but he just holds
me tighter. "No...you're not going anywhere. I love you, and I know you love me,
and you're finally going to admit it to both of us." His mouth on mine again and
that hot little tongue forcing its way in, tempting its mate to come out and
play.
I begin to respond in kind, and he suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.
Hands at his sides, he bows his head, and even though he's not touching me, I
can feel him tremble. "Get up." What does he want from me?
"Alex, make me yours." Somehow, I get the feeling you already are, my pet.
TO BE CONTINUED...
Justice Served
by Niffusa
As I approached the clearing, my body enveloped in shadow, I began to circle the
perimeter. After a brief, but thorough, inspection of the area, I was satisfied
there were no booby taps. But something inside me—some internal
alarm—was ringing of danger.
