TITLE: Alpha And Omega AUTHOR: Linda Phillips E-MAIL: rn500@ozline.net RATING: NC-17 CLASSIFICATION: V / R KEYWORDS: MSR SUMMARY: Not summarized at author's request DISCLAIMER: The X-Files and it's characters belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Television. But, hey, I can dream. *************** Comments to Linda at rn500@ozline.net *************** I felt him watching me even before I opened my eyes. I always can. But I'm never quite sure of what I'll see. Sometimes his eyes are soft and reverent and so full of love that my heart feels as if it will burst just looking at him. Sometimes there is fear - childlike, unprotected, he searches me for reassurance, and I do all that I can to make him believe that I will never leave him. Other times I see raw hunger. He will reach for me, and my body responds without hesitation, even before my sleepy mind can follow. Then there are the moments when he is a flux of emotions, with so many needs to fill. Like tonight. I am facing away as I awaken. I start to turn to him, but he stops me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. I wait, anticipation growing in my belly, gooseflesh spreading on my skin. I soon feel a finger softly tracing the small hills of my spine, from the base of my neck slowly downward. As his hand meets my tail bone it spreads open wide and slides to the right, smoothing over the roundness of my hip. He moves closer to me, and I feel his warmth against my back, almost, but not quite touching my skin. He reaches down along my thigh as far as his long arm can extend, then back again. I sigh. I love it when he touches me this way, as if I am new to him, as if he has never before explored every inch of me. He makes me feel young and beautiful and so sexy. Mulder and I have been physically intimate for several months now. I still remember those last few weeks before our first time. Tension building, both of us knowing what was going to happen soon, what was inevitable. I think we had known for some time. So intimate in every other way, it was a natural progression to complete the circle of our relationship. Yet, I balked. I was afraid. His passion frightened me. I imagined being swallowed up by his neediness. It was too much, I thought. I will suffocate. Little did I know all that I would acquire by surrendering. Empty places within me, places I wasn't even conscious of, were filled with him. Yes, he needs me. I have found unexpected joy in that. But he also gives so much. I feel a kiss on my neck, right where the curve is that becomes my shoulder. I shiver unexpectedly, and his arm goes across my chest and holds me to him, to warm me. But I'm not cold. My body is heating up by the minute. The hand in front of me begins to explore. He is so gentle now. He can be rough, when his need for me is too great. He can probe and clutch at me, his lips taking mine in turbulent kisses, and he will enter me deep and thrusting. At those times it is passion, but also pain, that I see in his eyes. He needs me the most then, and somehow I understand that he would crawl inside of me at that moment, if there was a way. He will tell me that I am everything to him, his voice nearly breaking, and I know that it's true. It's the very thing that I was so fearful of in the beginning. But instead of feeling apprehension, I am in awe of his trust in me, the security he feels in my arms. It is sacred to me, and I guard it like a treasure. His fingers fall on my lips, and follow a trail over my chin and into the hollow of my throat. He is nestled behind me so that I feel his breath on my neck, and I hear it become just slightly more rapid as his fingertips continue downward. I bring my hand behind me to rest against his hip and pull him into me. His erection presses between the cheeks of my ass, and a moan escapes me as I feel it throb there. But he will not be hurried tonight, I can tell. He gently rubs his palm over one nipple, teasing, until it is hard and my breasts feel swollen with the want of him. He moves to the other, already erect and firm, and pinches it gently between his fingers. I moan again. I can't help it. The sound seems to further arouse him, and he takes the mound of my breast in his hand and kneads it softly, then the other, as his tongue moves across my shoulder. He has told me before that he loves my breasts. I've always felt a little self conscious of the fact that they aren't larger, even as my intellectual mind recoiled from such a ridiculous standard. But I must admit that I melt inside when he tells me that they are perfect, round and firm like a young girl's. I am Lolita, a first kiss, a newly explored sensuality, a fantasy realized. His left arm slides under me, and the hand reaches for the one I have tucked under my pillow. He enfolds my hand in his and our fingers interlace. His right hand continues to move down, over my taut abdomen, around my navel, in maddeningly slow circles. My breathing is coming harder now, matching his. His teeth come down gently on my earlobe, nibbling, and then his whispered words crash through the silence. "You'll never know how much I love you..." He's right. I probably never will. He experiences emotions so deeply, he's so much more open to the extremes of human passion than I can ever allow myself to be. I am envious at times. When I open myself as fully as I can to him, I feel naked, exposed. It has taken me a long time to let him see inside of me, and there is still so much I keep locked away. But he does not push. He can feel when I need to relax my guard. Holding up the walls I have built sometimes makes me so very weary. He will hold me tenderly as I unfold, and I let him soothe me and whisper to me that I am safe no matter what. I am child, demanding, troubled, making him prove his love for me. He does so willingly. I gasp as his fingers brush the soft curls that mark the perimeter of my sex. I wait for him to reach further and dip into the wet center of me. But he doesn't. Not yet. He follows a path of his own choosing, slowly. My heart pounds, and I grip his ass tighter, my fingers digging into tender flesh. Finally, I can stand it no longer, and I turn to my back and look up at him. I frame his beautiful face in my hands, and use my eyes to show him how very much I love him. I think it's the only thing he truly trusts, for he's heard so many false words, so many lies. He lowers his face to mine and brushes his lips against my own again and again, until I finally capture them and drink him in. He moans into my mouth, and falls against me so that we are skin to skin along my entire length. His mouth moves over my cheek, my eyes, down to my throat, where he kisses my throbbing pulse. His tongue traces along the dip between my breasts and leisurely encircles first one nipple, then the other. I arch my back to urge him on, and at last he ends one torture and begins another as he takes the firm pink bud in his mouth. He suckles gently yet urgently, and settles in against me. I wrap my arms around him and hold him close, sweetly aroused. I am madonna, nurturer, life giver. His erection pulses against my leg, wet and hot. Soon I am dripping with my own intensity, and there is fire between my legs that is precious torment. I open my thighs and guide his hand there. He softly strokes my clit, eliciting a groan from deep within me. He leaves my breast and moves up to watch my face as I enjoy his magic touch. I close my eyes and concentrate on what he's doing to me. I picture his fingers moving, stroking, wet and slippery. Every nerve in my body is humming. He brings me to the brink, then stops. It almost brings tears to my eyes. "Not yet," he whispers, and kisses my whimpering mouth. I open my eyes as he lies back on the bed. The look on his face tells me what he wants. I rise to my knees and swing my leg over, straddling him. His eyes never leave mine now. I rest my swollen vulva against him, letting just the tip of him enter me. He closes his eyes just for a moment, fighting his own urge to thrust up against me. Slowly, I lower myself onto him. He holds my gaze, his breath coming in ragged gasps. My mouth opens, and I lick my dry lips in anticipation. There is just enough light coming in from the street lamps outside. I can see his face, the outline of his lean upper body. He catches my hands in his and holds them up, keeping me erect over him. As I move down the final inch, our bodies meet, and he releases a sigh from his very soul. "Scully... oh, God..." I move rhythmically on him, and he meets me again and again. We move together, and he releases my hands to caress me everywhere. I feel fierce, I want him so much now. I move faster, harder, leaning down over him to kiss him, crude and rough. My tongue thrusts into his mouth and he responds in kind. I pull it in, sucking, biting, feral sounds escaping from somewhere deep inside of me. I am lover, seductress, an earthly goddess. In this moment, with this man, I am alpha and omega, his beginning and his end. It carries me to heights unknown before. I bless it and I curse it and I never want it to end. I am at the precipice, and I fervently push myself over the edge, calling his name as I fall. A litany, over and over, a prayer to the living. I feel him explode before I reach the ground. He holds me to him tightly, his mouth again on mine, his seed spilling into me, he is at once vulnerable and Herculean. I lay against him, spent, as he catches his breath. We stay like this a long time. I don't want to give up the connection we have at this moment, so complete of body and spirit. But at last I pull away, and he settles me into the crook of his arm, where we drift into that contented place between sleep and awake. Before I am carried away into a dream, I reach up and caress his cheek. He holds my palm to his face for a moment, and I know that he feels all the love that I have. I cannot sleep until I have made that bond with him. For this night, our world is here, in this bed. Soon the dawn will come and life will intrude once again. But as sure as the sun will rise, it will also set, and we will meet in our safe world once again. **************** End Comments to Linda at rn500@ozline.net