SCREAM III
by viXen <xfvixen@geocities.com>

* Archive: Yes to Gossamer; everyone else, please ask me first.
* Summary: Mulder expands on his game plan. Third story in the
'Scream' series.
* Keywords: Mulder/Scully romance
* Spoilers: Season Five spoilers, up to and including Redux II.
* Classification: VR
* Rating: NC-17 (for sexual situations)
* Disclaimer: I don't own Fox Mulder and Dana Scully. They belong
to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions and Fox Broadcasting.
* Author's Notes: Reading Scream I and II before this one is
advised, to avoid any confusion on the backstory. My sincere
thanks to Charli and Rhoni for their support and beta reading.
All feedback gratefully accepted at xfvixen@geocities.com.

*************************

SCREAM III by viXen


"So what's next on the game plan, Coach?" Scully asked with a
grin. She was still seated on Mulder's lap, her mind fuzzy from
release and her lips swollen from their slow, exploratory kisses.

"I can't tell you that," he whispered against her lips. "Can't
give away the secret plan."

"Why? Do you consider me an opponent?"

"No, I consider you a challenge." He brushed his mouth over hers
briefly. "Speaking of challenges... if you'll stand up, I'll put
Plan B into motion."

She arched an eyebrow, her curiosity heightened at the mention of
a Plan B. Steadying herself with a hand against his shoulder, she
stood and waited for him to do the same. A wicked grin formed on
her lips as she noticed him readjusting his dress slacks as he
stood, angling the material over a painfully obvious erection.

"What are you smiling at?" he asked as he pulled her into his
arms.

Her grin widened. "Nothing."

He chuckled against her skin as he placed a kiss on her forehead,
then pulled her closer. She could feel how much he wanted her,
the physical evidence pressing against her abdomen. She was
secretly glad to see him as affected by his seduction as she. A
thick mixture of excitement and fear combined with her arousal,
the fear stemming from her control slipping away like a twig
being helplessly carried down a raging river. The wall of
emotional detachment she prided herself in building with such
precision and strength was crumbling at her feet as if made of
sun-aged mud instead of reinforced steel.

All from his touch.

She looked at his hands, the main source of his touch, watching
them tug at her shirt. Without thinking, she raised her arms to
assist him in removing the silk garment. Once the shirt was gone,
she focused on his hands again. Long, elegant fingers, soft and
tapered. The hands of a musician, she decided, and her body was
his instrument. With the right stroke of his fingers, he could
create music within her. Depending on his technique, he could
make her body taut as a harp string, or resonate like a timpani
drum, or soar like the highest notes of a piccolo. And he could
make her sing an exquisite aria of melodic moans in a variety of
pitches and tambres.

With a smile, Scully realized she wanted to do the same to him.
She wanted to hear the music of his arousal rising and exploding
from him in a symphony of moans and gasps. On a whim, she swiped
her tongue at the dimple in his chin and enjoyed the catch of his
breath. She nipped at his chin and his reaction was a throaty
gasp. She thought about what he would sound like at the peak of
ecstasy. Would he moan her name? Would he scream? Her smile grew,
as did her need to hear him lose control. The sooner, the better.

"You know, you don't need to continue this," she said against his
throat, hoping she could move things along.

"Continue what?" he whispered.

"The seduction thing."

He pulled back, concern gently sloping his eyes and furrowing his
brow. "You don't like the seduction thing?"

Her face softened as she realized he had misunderstood her. Her
hand went to his face, her fingers smoothing reassurance into his
cheek. "I *love* the seduction thing. I can't remember the last
time anyone has done this, has *wanted* to do this for me. I love
the thought that you want to seduce me, but this is something we
both obviously want. You've already won me over, Mulder. You
don't need to keep this up."

He pulled her close and pressed his erection into her belly.
"Might not be very enjoyable if I don't keep *this* up."

"You know what I mean," she said, slapping his chest playfully.

"Yeah, I do," he replied with a sly smile. "And what you said
makes perfect, rational sense. We both want this and it would be
so easy for me to toss you on that bed and bury myself inside
you."

She shuddered at his words, so raw and honest. So arousing. She
pulled herself closer, her fingers combing through his hair and
her body pressing tightly against his. His words traveled through
her body, melting at her core. She wanted him to give in to the
temptation, to join them, to make them become one, to come as
one. Now.

"But not yet," he continued, his hands cupping her face when he
saw the slight downturn of her lips. "This is for *us*, Scully.
No one else enters into the picture, no one else can control the
situation. It's about damn time we did something for ourselves,
something good, something positive." He placed a tender kiss on
her lips. "It's just you and me, kid. And I refuse to rush it,
especially tonight."

In the back of her mind, Scully knew he would be this open and
passionate. She saw his passion on a daily basis in their work,
and knew it must cross over into his private life as well. But
seeing him in the role of the romantic lead for the first time
was still a shock to her system.

Without thinking, she blurted, "So when did you become such a
romantic?"

"When I found out you would let me touch you like this." His hand
moved to her breast and brushed across her covered nipple.
Through the thin satin of her bra, she could feel the light
pressure of his fingers as if they were on her naked skin. She
leaned into his touch and let her head fall back with a heavy
sigh.

She was on sensory overload again. How he managed to put her
there so quickly she didn't know, and decided it was better to
leave it a mystery. While his hands loosened the button on her
slacks, she maneuvered the buttons on his shirt. He dropped his
arms to his sides and she slid the shirt off his body, letting
her hands linger on his arms, feeling the mixture of soft skin,
silky hairs and hard muscle. Once his shirt hit the carpet, she
pulled at his T-shirt but his hands stilled hers.

"Uh, uh. The dress shirt is all you get."

"Why?" she asked with a small pout.

"Because one of us has to remain clothed or this will be all over
too soon. Please, let me do this for you."

She looked up at him, meeting his intense gaze. With just one
look, she thanked him for his unselfish gesture and gave him full
consent to take his seduction in whatever direction he wanted. He
smiled with understanding, then added an intoxicating kiss to let
her know her message was read loud and clear.

"So let me get this straight," Scully said after breaking the
kiss. "You get to undress me but I can't undress you."

"That's right."

Her eyebrow arched. "Doesn't seem fair."

"Sorry, Scully. That's the way it has to be. It's all part of
the..."

"...game plan," she said with him. He laughed and she shook her
head. "What is it about men and their sports analogies?"

"Hey, sports and sex are two of my favorite pastimes, and two I
rarely have the pleasure of participating in." His hands pushed
her slacks down her legs, then he hooked his thumbs in her
pantyhose and pushed them down in one swift motion. "Let me have
my fun and I guarantee you you'll have yours."

Scully swallowed her response as Mulder knelt in front of her. He
lifted one of her legs to remove her slacks and nylons, then
started to lift the other. He chuckled lightly and she opened her
eyes to see him holding the shredded leg of her pantyhose.

"You owe me a new pair, Mulder."

"I'll get you two so I can have one to shred later," he replied
in his butter-pecan voice before placing an open-mouthed kiss on
her thigh. Her moan traveled through the room, carrying with it
her arousal. He kissed her thigh again once, twice, then moved
out toward her hip and kissed his way back up her body, taking
his time to not only touch but look at every inch of exposed
flesh. He stopped near her covered breast and teased her with the
moist heat of his breath, never letting his lips touch her. Her
nipple hardened and jutted out to reach him, straining against
the satin. A low groan escaped her lips before she could stop it.

Scully grabbed his head and forced his mouth to hers, roughly
plunging her tongue between his lips. She swallowed his moan as
she traced the roof of his mouth, the insides of his cheeks and
the slippery surface of his tongue. Her lips spoke wordless pleas
against his:

Seduce me.

Take me.

Love me.

He wouldn't allow her to undress or touch him, but she would find
a way to let him know that could change whenever he wanted. She
was ready, more than ready, to accept him into her body. She knew
he was ready as well, but he had other ideas.

Abruptly he broke the kiss, his breathing shallow. "You," he
grunted. "Bed."

Scully bit back a cave-man comment when she saw his eyes. A flash
of lightning had punctuated his last word. Thin strips of light
seeping in through the slats on the blinds streaked his face and
she could see his pupils had dilated, leaving only thin rims of
light brown showing around circles of black. He was beyond
aroused, and judging from the grimace on his face, he was having
trouble controlling his arousal.

"Mulder," she whispered against his lips, "you don't have to..."

"On the bed. Now."

Scully's eyes widened. Was that a growl? Did he actually *growl*
at her to get on the bed?

She swallowed as she felt another wave of arousal surge through
her body. Her eyes wanted to close but she couldn't tear her gaze
from the aroused, growling Mulder standing before her. He eyed
her as if she were his prey, waiting for her to surrender to him,
allowing him to feed off her body. Finally her eyes cooperated
and slid shut, and her mind conjured up a scene where they were
in bed, with nothing between them but a bowl of ice cream. The
cold liquid was dripped on her body, then quickly lapped up. A
drip of liquid, then a swipe of his tongue. Over and over, until
every drop of ice cream and every inch of her body had been
tasted by him.

His hand on her cheek brought her out of her daydream. She smiled
at him -- a lazy, content smile with a touch of anticipation --
before lowering herself to the mattress. Her mind whirled through
the possibilities of what he had planned. She was still in her
bra and panties, but she didn't ask why and made no attempt to
remove them. What did he have in mind? She started to lay on her
back but he stopped her with a hand to her thigh.

"No. On your stomach."

That earned him a raised eyebrow and a tip of her head. He really
*did* have a Plan B. Just how many 'Plans' did he have? Her
curiosity was electrified, like the thunderstorm outside, and it
surged when she saw his expression change, the rigidity of his
jaw giving way to a soft smile.

"Trust me, Scully."

He said the magic words. Without further hesitation she turned
onto her stomach. She stretched out across the length of the bed,
putting her arms under the pillow beneath her head. The bed
dipped next to her and she waited, holding her breath without
realizing it. She let out a sigh when she felt his hand on the
small of her back, the familiar warmth more comforting to her
than a favorite sweater. She had never realized how large his
hands were until she felt his fingers spread on her back, his
hand almost covering the entire distance at her waist.

"So soft," he murmured as his hand started to move. He had the
touch of a shadow, the slightest hint of pressure on her skin as
his hand brushed up and down her back. His other hand rested on
her thigh, his fingers lightly kneading her skin. So close to her
heat, so close that every time his fingers moved, she prayed they
would move a few inches higher to plunge into the sea of desire
pooling, waiting for him to discover.

She sighed again, a rush of breath and excitement. His touch was
the same as before: gentle, comforting, sensual. But the feeling
was infinitely more erotic on her bare skin. His hand moved from
her thigh and later she felt something around her chest loosen.
He had unhooked her bra and pushed the strips of material aside.
His hands roamed over her entire back, his range now
unobstructed. His touch was so light, just the tips of his
fingers, and she had to concentrate on the contact to be sure it
was really there.

She felt the bed shift around her, then felt his hands move to
her upper back near her shoulder blades. He was straddling her,
none of his weight resting on her but she could feel the dips in
the mattress from his knees resting on either side of her legs.
His hands made slow descents, lingering at the dip of her lower
back, then moving back to her shoulders. He had increased the
pressure, and with it he increased her arousal.

With each pass of his hands, he massaged new life into her body.
She could feel the pleasurable tension building at a feverish
pace, all from his touch. Her entire body moved with each
dramatic sweep, pressing into the mattress then arching up like a
cat, never wanting to break the contact of his hands on her
burning skin.

She felt like she was on the ascent of a roller coaster, each
movement slowly bringing her closer to the top, closer to the
highest point. She tried to concentrate on the light tapping
sound of the rain against the window, the ragged sound of his
breathing, the soft whooshing sound his hands made against her
skin, but she couldn't concentrate. She couldn't think. All she
could do was feel.

"You like this, don't you?"

She managed a "mmm hmmm" as a response.

"Good, because I love touching you. With my hands, my mouth..."
His lips pressed against one of her shoulder blades and she
gasped. He pulled away and the moist remnants of his kiss left a
cool tingling on her skin.

"Mmmm, so good," he whispered before kissing his way down to her
waist. His lips caressed the small of her back, and his tongue
jetted out to lap at her spine. His hands pulled at the waistband
of her panties and she instinctually lifted her hips in
assistance. The panties were quickly whisked away and then his
hands were gone.

What was he doing? He wasn't touching her, wasn't kissing her.
She resisted the urge to look back at him, though the urge was
nearly unbearable. Why was he so quiet? Was he looking at her?
Trying to decide what to do next? What was he *doing*?

Suddenly, she felt a pressure at the top of her thigh and she let
out a sigh. One finger, just one, made a circular pattern on her
skin just millimeters from where she wanted his touch the most.
He made a few lazy circles, then slid his finger away as quickly
as it had appeared. She whimpered. He had spread her moisture
around on her skin. And on his finger. She heard a sucking sound,
then a growl. He was tasting her. He was tasting her on his skin.

She matched his growl and raised him a moan.

The bed shifted again, his weight dipping just one side of the
mattress, telling her he was no longer straddling her but sitting
next to her. Then the mattress stilled. For what seemed an
eternity, the only movement on the bed was her chest heaving,
trying to fill her lungs with air. Agony set in as she waited for
his touch. A drug more addictive than alcohol or cocaine,
something that once she had experienced, she never wanted to give
up. Finally, she felt one hand settle at the small of her back.
It moved lower, sliding over the contour of one buttock, moving
down her thigh, then up again toward her back via the inside of
her thigh.

He was teasing her. He was teasing himself as well, if his
hissing releases of breath were any indication. He repeated the
motion twice then stopped, leaving his hand on her thigh. She
waited for his next move, her hands clenching and unclenching
under the pillow. The anticipation was a powerful aphrodisiac,
intensifying each move once it happened.

She gasped as she felt his tongue on her back, near the swell of
her hip. It took her a split-second to realize his tongue was
tracing the shape of her tattoo. A groan escaped her lips as the
image of his tongue dancing around the circle of the oroborous
flooded her brain.

"You didn't get this for *him*, did you, Scully?" His words
rumbled through her skin, the pain evident in his harsh tone.

Somehow she found her voice. "No, not for him. For me."

"Good."

He nipped at the tattoo and she groaned his name, her voice heavy
and thick with pleasure. Her moans eclipsed the distant thunder
outside. His lips traveled the length of her spine, nipping and
kissing at the skin on her back. One hand pushed her hair out of
the way and his teeth lightly bit at a tensed cord in her neck.
She could feel his entire body stretched out above her. Her hips
moved of their own volition, trying to make contact with any part
of his body. She made a few direct hits and his moans
reverberated against her skin.

His breath teased her ear. "Turn over."

"Yes." The need in her voice shocked her. She wanted him, her
arousal so powerful she was shaking from its force. She rolled
over and was immediately met with Mulder's lips upon hers. She
moaned into the kiss, grabbing his shirt and trying to pull him
down on top of her. He resisted, pulling away from her and
breaking the kiss. She opened her eyes to find him above her, on
all fours, his hands on either side of her head and his knees
straddling her hips. His erection made a comical display of his
slacks but she failed to find any laughter in her body. The only
thing there was need, an overwhelming, primal need. For him.

His hands yanked the loosened bra from her and flung it over his
shoulder. She could feel his gaze as it raked over her body, his
breath leaving in a 'whoosh' as his eyes found the damp curls at
her center. He met her gaze, piercing her soul with his desire-
darkened eyes.

"Can't wait," he whispered, his voice rough from denied pleasure.
"I can't wait to be inside you, to feel you around me."

"Then do it," she pleaded.

He shook his head. "Not yet." He dipped his head and his tongue
caressed the hollow of her throat.

"Mulder...please..."

"Please what?" His voice was like rich maple syrup covering her
skin.

"Touch me," she said, her voice barely audible.

"I thought that's what I've been doing."

She whimpered. Only Mulder could switch from seductive mode to
smart-ass mode so effortlessly. He could be the most infuriating
man, but his flaws barely registered in her head. She was beyond
even token anger. If he wanted her to beg, she would beg.
Anything, anything to get him to touch her *there*.

"Do you want me to touch you here?" he asked as his fingers
brushed over her nipple. He took the hardened pebble and rolled
it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes," she choked out in a gasp. Her back arched as he increased
the rolling pressure.

"How about here?" His hand moved from her breast to her stomach,
his finger dipping into her navel then circling its
circumference.

"Lower." She sounded miles away, a disembodied voice no longer a
part of her.

"Lower?" His fingers moved down to tangle in springy reddish-
brown curls. "Is here good?"

Her head shook from side to side on the pillow. "Lower."

"Still lower?" His hand left her, and her eyes snapped open.
Their eyes locked, held each other in an unbreakable gaze. "How
about here?"

She cried out as his forefinger dipped into her arousal, swirling
the moisture around her outer lips before plunging inside. Her
eyes slid shut and she arched off the bed, seeking more contact.

"Oh yeah," he exhaled. "Oh Scully...Jesus..."

As his name formed in her throat, his mouth slanted over hers and
captured her lips in a fierce kiss. His tongue stroked inside her
mouth as his finger stroked inside her body, the combination
devastatingly erotic. She was so close, too close to control the
waves rising in her body, too close to keep her hips from moving
in counter-rhythm with his finger.

He roughly broke the kiss, moving his head to her breast. He
teased the rosy peak, flicking his tongue back and forth. He took
the bud in his teeth, tugging lightly before surrounding it with
his mouth.

"Mulder...oh...please..."

Breath exploded from her lungs in short, sharp gasps as he thrust
a second finger inside her, his rhythm quick and insistent. He
added his thumb, massaging the hardened bud above her entrance,
and she was lost. His fingers coaxed her release like a pianist
coaxed music from the ivory keys, caressing, stroking until the
passion rose to a startling crescendo.

His name leapt from her mouth, enveloped in a long, high-pitched
gasp as her body spasmed, clenching his fingers in rhythmic
convulsions. Her back arched and her hips rose off the bed,
bucking against his hand until her legs gave out and she
collapsed to the mattress.

Petal-soft kisses caressed her face. She frowned as his fingers
slipped from her. He left his sentry above her, rolling on his
side and bringing her with him. She settled next to him, her head
nestled in the crook of his neck. Strong hands stroked her heated
skin as her breathing returned to normal.

"You OK?" he whispered against her hair.

She sighed her answer, reinforcing it with a lingering kiss to
his throat. She rolled onto her back and he repositioned himself
on his side, propped up on one elbow. He smoothed the sweat-
dampened hairs from her brow.

Her eyes fluttered open to see Mulder's face surrounded by light.
She blinked twice, then realized the light was coming from the
table by the bed.

"The electricity. When did it come back on?"

"A few minutes ago." His hand brushed against her cheek. "I would
have said something but...well, I was busy. So were you."

She laughed. "Yeah, I guess we were." She reached for his hand,
interlacing her fingers with his, then raised her gaze to his.

"That was intense," he said, wonder and desire in his eyes.

"You're telling me? I'm still quivering." She gave him a toothy,
heart-felt smile.

His finger started a journey from her neck down her chest,
lightly exploring her flushed skin. "That would have been worth
it even if you hadn't screamed."

"I didn't."

"Oh?" A lopsided grin tugged at one corner of his lips. "From my
vantage point, I'd say that was a definite scream."

"That wasn't a scream," she said firmly.

"Yes, it was."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes, it..."

"Mulder," she interrupted, exasperation clear in her tone, "that
was a gasp, not a scream."

His eyebrows shot up. "A gasp? Scully, I've heard you gasp before
and that was more than a gasp."

"OK, it was a loud gasp..."

"An *extremely* loud gasp," he interrupted in a low murmur.

"...but it was still... hey, it wasn't *that* loud."

A grin flirted with his lips and she mirrored him with her own
smile. He leaned down and kissed her lips lightly.

"Fine, Scully, if you say so. But don't think I'm giving up that
quickly. I still have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Her face lit up with the briefest of predatory smiles before she
attacked his T-shirt, pulling on it until it untucked itself from
his slacks. Once free, the shirt was yanked upward with a force
that not only sent the seams straining against the threads, but
started a small tear under one arm. Scully barely waited for
Mulder to raise his arms before pushing it over his head and
tossing it to the floor.

"But, Mulder," she said sweetly, "you can't have any tricks up
your sleeve. You're not wearing a shirt."

He covered his laugh with a growl, then attacked her neck with
his teeth, playfully biting the tender skin. His body pressed
hers down, pinning her to the mattress. She sighed as his bare
chest came in contact with hers. Finally, skin against skin.

"You ripped my shirt," he mumbled against her throat. "You'll pay
for that."

She smiled. "I'm counting on it, Coach."


THE END