Heartland II: Deserts Dry by Eiluned redheadrippercat@yahoo.com ARCHIVE: Ask before linking or archiving. DISCLAIMER: Mulder and Scully do not belong to me. I'm just using them for sex. :` The lyrics belong to U2. 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. 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 here. 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! 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" 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 pi=F1on 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 peek 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. --------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- 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. 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, waves of heat and light rushing over me, blinding me with their intensity. 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. End