Title: Revelations about Wanting - Part 1/3 Rating: NC-17 Keywords: Sc/K, M/S ust, handcuffs, Bubble Baths and MuldersTie (All used in ways your mother would not approve of) Feedback: Will be adored and answered _____________ Dana Scully's Apartment - 10:30 pm Another late night. I manage not to stumble as I enter my apartment. After a ten-hour day of autopsies, followed by a thrilling three-hour wait for an informant who never showed up, I consider this a minor victory. I didn't want to mention it to Mulder, but the scratches I'd received during our last case (Mulder's "demon cats from hell" crusade) are starting to hurt again. Time to open a bottle of wine take a couple aspirin and celebrate being home mostly in one piece. Demon cats or not, one of those stupid felines almost caught an artery. The apartment seems so lonely when I'm not here. Feels lonely when I'm here, too, sometimes... Why? The thought comes unbidden. Why is there no one here to know or care if I get home on time. Surely there are any number of non-tattooed/non-obsessed/non-criminal men out there! Why haven't I let myself meet any of them? The obvious reason is, of course, Mulder. He'd go insane if I started seeing someone socially. Oh, he might try and cover it with "I think this is good for you." Or "As long as you're happy"... All those nice pretty lies. But inside he would be terribly hurt and doubt my loyalty to him. Or think the guy was a plant sent by "them" to tear us apart. I don't think Mulder would give me much credit for being able to attract a man on my own. If Scully gets a date there must be a conspiracy at work... I'll bet within a week he'd have the gunmen bugging his apartment and tapping his phones, just waiting for the chance prove that my new boyfriend is part of C.B.G.'s plan. Suppose we ever got in to a lovers' quarrel or he cheated on me? It would be public knowledge! No, I wouldn't want to put any man whom I liked enough to date through that. Stripping , I curse softly as the material of my blouse comes away dotted with blood where my cat-scratches have re-opened. I fill the tub with steaming water and add enough fragrant oil to fill it with bubbles, humming with anticipation I run my hand across the water's surface. However, the dissatisfaction that has been plaguing me all day will not be denied. The troubling thoughts on relationships continue to haunt me as I search for a robe and turn on the CD player. Perhaps if I were not to "date", just "go elsewhere" for gratification occasionally... No! That sounds unhealthy, cheap, and unfair to everyone involved. Celibacy is preferable to that. My aching body seems to disagree, so I sooth it by sinking into the foamy, scented water. Running a washcloth along my skin I tend to the few deep red marks across my ribs. The cloth circles lower down my stomach as I let my mind and body wander down a more sensual path. I let the soft material slide down farther, the pattern of the strokes changing from cleansing to relaxing, and just a little arousing, as I allow my mind to wander... Perhaps having a short affair, something between dating and a one-night stand. With someone not looking for more than a passionate fling. Perhaps that would be--no, that's not my style either; the fiasco in Philadelphia taught me as much. I sigh and chide myself for forgetting to open the wine. That's right, Dana - you have to be a perfectionist in all things, including your own hedonism. Just as I turn to get up, a shadow falls over the doorway. I sink back under the bubbles with a muttered curse. If that's Mulder, he's a dead man. "Good evening, Agent Scully..." Oh, no. This is bad. "Sorry to interrupt - did you forget something?" The smile in his voice is evident as he casually leans against the bathroom door. "I don't usually bathe with my gun, Krycek." "You'd think by now there would be a couple of them in this room, given past experiences. But that wasn't what I was referring to..." He pulls a glass of wine from behind his back. "Your usual, Madame?" The snobbish waiter accent is followed with a slight mocking bow. "How long have you been spying on me?" "The surveillance cameras have been in place for years," he says as though discussing golf scores, completely nonchalant. "I occasionally see the highlights." I shake my head. "No thanks." No telling what he's done to it. I'm scared but trying to keep from feeling too helpless - which is quite a trick when you're naked in a bubble bath and being held at gunpoint. "What's this all about? I'm sure you came here for a reason other than being my personal butler." "I don't know... The job looks pretty tempting from this angle." His leering voice softens. "You're right. There is another purpose behind this, but please--drink." He takes a sip and swallows to demonstrate. "See? It's fine. No drugs." He sets it on the floor and slides it to me with his foot. 'Sure,' I think crossly, 'but now it's got murderer germs.' I silence my inner skeptic. This is getting just strange enough to be interesting. I take the glass and let the liquid slide down my throat as a show of cooperation, making sure not to displace any strategically located bubbles in the process. "Okay, Krycek, but I'd like to get out the tub first. This situation feels a little less than professional." "Too bad for Skinner. Bet he'd give his right arm to staff a meeting with you like this." I shoot him a patented Mulder Death Glare. "... Here." He throws me a towel. "I'm sorry for the embarrassment, but, as I said before, this is one of the few situations where you're usually unarmed." He turns just slightly enough to give a feeling privacy while still keeping his gun trained on me. I dry off as quickly as possible and wrap the thin silk robe around my body. I regret not bringing in the thicker terrycloth one now; the silk feels wonderful, but the light blue material is not leaving much to the imagination against my damp skin. He gestures toward the living room with his gun and I follow. I notice he has already unplugged all of my phones. I assume my guns have been confiscated as well. I clean them all once a month so he would know exactly where to look. Damn. We sit at the kitchen table and I take another sip from my glass. Trying to find a way to ease my fear and stay in control of the situation, I decide to take the direct approach. "Who are you working for now, Krycek? What did we get to close to?" I swear to god, if it's those stupid, demon cats... He shrugs. "Doesn't matter who I'm working for right now. This is not about any x-file. I'm just here to talk to you. No conspiracies, I promise." Confusion and disbelief war for dominance. "Krycek, why on earth do you think we should have a simple normal, rational conversation?" "Why not? Do you want something more?" He waggles his eyebrows, and I wonder for a moment if he's stoned. "We are not just any two people... Logically one of us should be dead by the end of this "friendly chat." "Since I'm the one with the gun, you'd better hope that's not true." "Why are you here?" "I mean you no harm, Scully." "You can't expect me to take that seriously, coming from you." "Why not? If I wanted you dead, you would be already. I swear I'm not here on business." "I feel like a broken record, Krycek. Why are you here and what do you want?" "I want you." My jaw goes slack from shock. Fortunately, he is too busy pacing to notice. "But that's not important right now. The question is what do you want? You saved my life once and I'd like to repay you." "Are you insane? How? What could you possibly give me?" "That, Scully, is going to be the subject of our simple, normal, rational conversation." End part 1 Revelations about Wanting - Part 2 "That, Scully, is going to be the subject of our simple, normal, rational conversation." She is being difficult, I expected that. However, what I did not expect was to be so fucking distracted by her. She's wearing this blue silk thing that looks like it's thin enough to tear by just touching it. I swear I can see the outline of her nipples, and it's taking everything I've got not to stare at her chest like some fresh-faced high school kid. Fuck Alex, focus, regain control of the situation. "You're dying." Her eyes widen in fear and I realize she's thinking of the cancer. Shit! I wanted her off balance, not scared to death. "Not physically - That's not what meant. I can see you fading. Mulder's blind to it, but I'm not. I want to do something for you if I can. So that's my question. What do you want?" Her laughter surprises me. "You think I'm in a bad mood, so you assigned yourself to be my personal fairy godfather? Grant Scully a wish? Get real, Krycek. You say you owe me? Fine, make good on that debt and leave!" "You don't know what I could offer you." The humor in her voice dies. "That's right, and I don't want to know, either. The last time I was offered everything I wanted, I ended up on a road trip with C.G.B. Spender and nothing to show for it!" Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten her last little jaunt with the old man. Lucky bastard. She gets up and gestures to the door. "Thank you so much for the simple, normal, rational conversation, Krycek. There's the door. I'm making my wish right now, and I don't think you need three guesses to figure out how to grant it." Okay, I tried being nice--an honest offer of whatever I could do for her. Damned skeptic. You try to do a good deed and this how your enemies react. This is going to require a more assertive approach. I've tried the carrot; let's see how the stick works. I attack: circling her waist with my good arm I push her up none too gently into the nearest wall she struggles for a moment, then stills -- I know she hasn't given up - she's waiting for me to make a mistake - to loosen my hold on her. Not damn likely. For one thing I'm having entirely too much fun feeling her pressed up against me. Ducking my head and inhaling the sent of her hair I whisper harshly, "What if I give you something even if you don't want it?" Her breath catches in fear -- and perhaps something else? - I smile at having broken through her calm exterior. Score one for the visitors. "Don't be stupid, Scully. I'm talking about *him*: Mulder. Is he what you want?" The fear in her eyes is overpowered by anger. "You bastard. What makes you think I need your help for that?" This stops me for a moment. "I didn't think you'd let yourself have him." Her laughter is short but this time it has an edge of genuine amusement to it. Good, I think. She is beginning to realize that I'm not going to hurt her, that she can talk to me and I just might understand. I'm one of the few people who might ever be able to when it comes to their relationship. I decide to risk letting her go, She's got to see I'm genuinely here as a friend. Too bad though -- having her up against the wall was much more fun... I allow myself a moment of indulgence and brush my thumb across her lips before releasing her. We have a tentative understanding now. She retrieves a second wine glass as she returns to the table, pouring me a glass of the Merlot. This is definitely a good sign. She's more aware now, both of my physical presence and of her own power over me. "You are almost right," she says, taking a sip from her own glass. The wine seems to help loosen her tongue. "I wouldn't let myself have him for a long time. I thought his brilliance and devotion to the x-files was serving some higher cause, something larger than our feelings for each other: his quest, his search, his sister, the prize of truth that might one day set us free..." She sighs and in that breath I hear the disappointment of a lost dream. "And now?" I ask. "He's found the truth about his sister...to a degree which seems to satisfy him anyway. I still don't understand it, but it's enough for him. He's free. I'm not -- all my searching has only lead to more questions -- Yet he never even mentions the MUFON groups or trying to search out the secrets behind Emily's existence. I'm left to deal with MY personal causes alone. His quest seems less noble now--masturbatory, almost. He seems happy chasing after every monster in the known universe. It's gone from saving the world to wannabe ghost-busting." I hear the tremor in her voice when she mentions Emily. I wish I had two good arms to put around her right now, not that she'd accept it. A hug from Alex Krycek? What's the correct punch line? Instead I settle for putting my hand over hers, trying to keep her talking. "He never appreciated your stake in this before. Why would he start now?" I know Mulder once accused her of "making it personal"--the stupid bastard. "He no longer has to worry about Samantha, and you are under his thumb to work with, worship, and admire from near-yet-afar whenever he wants." "I hate to think you spend a lot of time analyzing my personal life." "I'm watching all the time, Scully. I can't help but notice." "I don't want to be his deity." It almost sounds like she's pouting. She's cute when she's sullen. I smile and hope she doesn't notice. "You can't help it. You're entirely too perfect in his eyes...the occasional snake tattoo aside." An eyebrow arches in surprise. "You know about that?" There's a hint of a flush now, too. "Wanna know a secret?" "You're the master of them." "That was the first time Mulder was ever mad enough at you to fuck you." Some of the wine she was swallowing seems to have gone down wrong. She chokes. "It's true," I continue, "I was watching him that night. He gets off all the time to dozens of redhead video vixens. Yet he never yelled your name till the night he found out about your indiscretion in Philadelphia." Her eyes are now as large as saucers. "He stormed around his apartment carrying the envelope with your police report pictures, muttering and cursing about how stupid, dangerous and insane your actions with Tattoo boy were. All the while he's got this ridiculously huge hard-on. Finally he gave in to what he wanted. Dumping the photos on the table he sorted through them looking for the ones of your tattoo. When he found them he started to rub the image of the snake on your back while unbuttoning his pants. It's amazing how much detail the camera picked up -- you could see him panting with rage and desire. And the look on his face was priceless -- It was obvious how horrified he was at his actions, proof of his baser feelings for his fallen-angel partner." "Shut up Krycek! I don't want to hear this." Her face is flushed from embarrassment...and perhaps arousal? She rises and backs away, needing the physical space to regain control. I move closer as she retreats. "Yes, you do. Would a copy of the tape be a sufficient gift to settle our debt, I wonder? Do you want to watch him take out his cock and stroke it over those pictures of you?" She shakes her head as if to deny the truth of the words. I press on relentlessly; I can see she's losing control, which is exactly what I want. "You can watch him if you want to, watch him pretend that he's fucking you, shouting your name along with a dozen profanities, each sounding like a profession of love..." "Fuck you!" "Is that what you want from me then?" She runs out of space, backing up, and hits the wall with a thump. I take her hand and bring it to my erection. Yeah, I got hard describing the scene, tormenting her with it. So sue me. It remains one of the most disturbingly erotic things I've ever seen: Mulder hating himself for thinking of Scully and hating Scully for lowering herself enough to be thought of "that way". The boy has serious issues. "Get away from me, you perverted bastard!" She yanks her hand away. It's a good thing too, because I was probably going to start rutting against her if she hadn't. The glare she hits me with is cold enough to freeze hell. "I don't need anything from him *or* you." "No, not you.... Put the "Ice Queen" facade up again, Scully. It doesn't fool me. I know you don't need anything from anyone! It's what you want that I'm talking about, the part you think can just be pushed aside and ignored." She refuses to meet my eyes. I take her chin and gently but firmly draw her face up to look at me. She's frightened by the uncharacteristic honesty she sees. "It can't, Scully. We're are meant to want things. This suppressed yearning for something else will eventually drive you away from Mulder, and he's too oblivious to see it. I can give you that `something else'." Here's where I lay it all on the line, unveil my master plan...such as it is. "I can be there for you Scully. I can help fulfill your secret selfish desires; the ones you think you shouldn't want. I can give you that, Scully." "I don't want it. Especially not from you." No Oscars for that one Scully. Behind those tough words I can see something fragile, half-fearful, wanting -- yet afraid to want, needing, yet afraid to need. "Think of it Scully, passion with no questions, no jealousy, no conflicts concerning Mulder." I brush a light kiss along her cheek, inhaling the sent of fear and arousal she exudes. She dips her head and I watches her shoulders shake, though whether it's from laughter or sobs I can't tell. "You know what will happen if he finds out?" "There are a thousand secrets I could be killed for..." I pause uncertainly. "Dana... this would be my most precious." I stroke her hair and my heart soars as she tilts her head to further the caress. She turns her face to my hand and kisses my wrist so lightly I think I must be imagining it. The caress is intimate yet innocent. She takes my finger between her lips first kissing it then biting lightly. I'm already panting. My eyes are straining to watch her lips do amazing things to my hand while being distracted her taut nipples beneath the thin silk. I'm almost trembling with the need to crush her, feel her under me. She pulls away slightly and looks up at me. I lean in for our first kiss... So, naturally, her hand coming squarely across my cheek comes as a surprise. "Go back to what ever hole you climbed out of, Krycek, and don't come back." I reel back from the shock of both the words and the blow. The open sensuality she showed moments before has vanished, safe behind the mask of the ice queen. She stalks back to the table and picks up a wineglass. "Your debt is repaid, over, fulfilled. Now get out." What the fuck? I barely duck in time to miss the glass aimed directly at my head. I know she wanted me a moment ago. It makes no sense until...until I see her eyes, bright with unshed tears, declaring every word a lie. She is trying to free me, the same way Mulder was freed. It is, in some weird, fucked-up way, the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me: trying to save me from having to fuck her out of a sense of obligation. I could try and convince Scully of her error through words... But to hell with that. Actions speak louder, and they're much more fun, too... Revelations about Wanting - Part 3/3 ___________________________ I could try and convince Scully of her error through words... But to hell with that. Actions speak louder, and they're much more fun, too... She has her head down now, her frame trembling from emotional and physical exhaustion. My jaw still aches from her blow. She is expecting me to leave now. A few harsh words and a wineglass to the head should be enough to make her feelings for me clear. I have every reason to believe that Dana Scully doesn't want me and never will - except one. Dana Scully is a terrible liar. I'm thanking whichever god looks out for lowlife assassins for that fact. I never thought we had one before, I think I was wrong. I pounce her. Scully is completely unprepared to fend off 175 pounds of determined assassin. I wrestle her back up against the wall, pushing my tounge ruthlessly betweene her lips. Feeling her teeth on my tounge I worry for a moment that she's going to bite me, instead she thrusts her tounge to meet mine, the response is more than I'd hoped for. I plan on knowing her mouth better than her dentist before letting her go. She tastes like wine and spice and I can't get enough. "You are so wrong, Dana," I gasp between kisses. "This is for me... for us..." Tearing my self away from her mouth, I sink to my knees till her breasts are level with my nose. The firm flesh fits perfectly in my hands and I squeeze them mercilessly. I lick the nipple through the silk and she gasps. I want to know how her skin tastes, I want her out of this damn robe NOW. "How could you ever think I don't want this?" I push the offending material off her sholder exposing her breast to my none-to-tender mercies. I take the exposed little pebble of flesh and I bite lightly. Her gasp becomes a low moan. She begins to struggle as I move to the other breast. She's trying to convince me - and herself I suspect - that she doesn't want this. She still does not believe. "No, Krycek don't-- (gasp). I'm fine... Please (a little whimper of pleasure)... Please, just go-- " Anger makes my vision blur for a moment, yet with the anger comes clarity. Without moving my lips from her breast I quietly take out my old FBI-issue handcuffs. Her eyes are closed so she doesn't realize what's happening until she hears the sound of the cuffs closing. She instincitivly tries to separate her hands. Too late, however, they're bound securely in front of her. Her eyes widen in shock and panic, but I pay no heed. My conscience works on a sliding scale: when you kill strangers on a regular basis, handcuffing your would-be-lover to help her get over a serious case of self-denial doesn't seem too terrible. She needs proof, right? Well, I'm going to enjoy making her believe. "Sorry, Dana. You're being far too much trouble." I see her testing the cuffs to see if her hand is small enough to squeeze through. "Stop that, Dana," I chide, then let my voice soften. "If you ask nicely, next time I'll use silk instead." She shivers involuntarily at the image while I grin in delight. It's time to move this party to a more suitable location. She puts up a struggle as I toss her over my shoulder and carry her into the bedroom. She is so tiny it's hardly any effort at all. This also brings her ass right next to my face. I can't help the overwhelming urge to give her posterior a light swat as she wriggles to escape. I can feel my inner caveman responding. Woman, small, MINE! It takes a conscious effort not to grunt in satisfaction as I toss her on the bed. My glance strays to the dresser and I see a tie so hideous that it's got to be Mulder's. "Stay right there." I sure hope that sounded threatening. I'm feeling so pleased right now that I want to laugh in triumph . I walk over to the dresser and dangle the tie between my fingers, wrinkling my nose in distaste. "Sure hope you stole this from him with the intention of burning it." She merely sniffs in scorn and looks away. I sit down behind her on the bed and trace the slope of her neck with the multicolored monstrosity, letting it trail down her shoulder and arm until it reaches her hands. "Let's put it to use." I slide the material through the chain between her wrists and quickly pull it up through the headboard. She realizes what is happening, but not in time to put up an effective struggle. When she's bound securely I stand up to admire my handiwork. I knew my Eagle Scout knowledge would come in handy one day. I make a mental note to send the Boy Scouts a huge wad of cash specifically to fund more knot-tying classes. I pick up one of the loose ends and wave it tauntingly in front of her. "I think Mulder would approve of his tie seeing this type of action. Don't you think?" She curses with amazing skill. The combination of being a doctor, Navy brat, and furious woman make for one of the longest descriptive sentences I've ever heard. I whistle in appreciation. She finally pauses to catch her breath and glares at me. Seeing her like that, flustered and spitting mad, bound to her bed in clad only in blue silk, makes my already aching cock throb painfully. I remove my clothes as quickly as possible. This is all about making her wild with lust, being ready and able to do anything to her and for her at any time. As I free my cock from the confining denim, I hear the little gasp she tries to hide. Oh, yes: Dana Scully appreciates what she sees, even if she doesn't want to. She is attempting to feign indifference as I approach the bed. But, I catch her looking up at my cock through her hair, which she thinks keeps her eyes hidden. I brush the red strands out of her eyes as I sit next to her, placing a light kiss on the exposed flesh between her breasts. I play with the sash of her flimsy robe, and her breath catches as I pull it loose. "I want to be the only one who knows you like this," I whisper as the material parts to reveal her breasts. "Not as a special agent, or a doctor, or partner." I lick an exposed taut nipple, and the light pink color deepens as I lavish it with attention. "I want the lover, the wanton." A little whimper escapes her lips, drawing my attention to them. I begin the kiss gently but it deepens as she responds, her tongue darting out to meet mine. I've never tasted anything so sweet as those lips, and when I feel her moan into my mouth, I'm lost. How the hell can she capture me with just a kiss? I'm supposed to be the tormenter here, right? I need to feel more of her, feel that all of that forbidden flesh against mine. My hand goes to the back of her neck, taking what I've wanted for so long with bruising force. I'm a little afraid of hurting her as I pin her to the bed with my weight, grinding my erection against her silk covered sex, but the sound she makes is not of protest. On the contrary, she lets out a pleased gasp and bucks her hips against mine in response. This damn robe is in my way again. The silk tears as I pull it roughly away from her body. I kiss and bite the flesh of her breasts and neck as I rip the remaining fabric from her prone form. For the first time, I get a verbal response. "Ohmygod!" Yes! This supports a long-held suspicion I've had: Dana Scully likes to be dominated during sex. She has a history of taking older lovers, strong-willed men who tend to be in positions of power over her. I'm certain this is a factor in why she hasn't jumped Mulder: she wants him to make the first move, to ravish her and take control. That would never happen because he'd only allow himself to worship her body, never ravish it. I suspect the handcuffs are making this better for her as well as easier for me. She's pulling at the bonds and arching against the sheets. "Tell me - What do you want?" Come on, baby... ask me for it. "No! I... I can't..." This gives me the perfect excuse to pull away before I lose all control. I want this to last and if she keeps writhing under me it's not going to. She makes a delightful mewing sound of disappointment as I lift myself up above her. "Tell me what you want." I trail kisses along her stomach as she shakes her head. I play with the dark auburn curls as I continue taunting her. "I want to spend all night mapping your body, finding what makes you gasp." I tug the curls lightly and she bites down on her lower lip to keep silent. "...Or moan." My finger slides down between those pretty lips easily finding her slick swollen clit, I watch her arch with pleasure as I circle it with lightly. "...Or come." Now I dip my head to her sex. Keeping her hips still with one hand, I stare at the glistening lips. I'm trying not to pant like one of Pavlov's dogs at the sight. I force myself to only lick once - a light caress of my tongue over her swollen clit. I don't want her to come. Not yet. The sound she makes is a half wimper half growl. "But I won't do it. Not unless you ask me first." She curses with less skill this time. Arousal is making her gasp out the words. "Fuck you (hitched breath), you rat (gasp)... fuck (gasp) - son of a... (a high moan as I nibble on the inside of her thigh) BITCH!" I chuckle and suck gently at her clit till it is completely exposed. She is mewing as I blow lightly on the overheated flesh. "Speak to me, baby." "Oh god! Krycek... I... I hate you!" I smile evilly. "That's all right. You still want me" I wet my thumb with her arousal circling her clit slowly. I quicken the movements until she's on the edge of orgasm, then stop just before she comes, repeating the process until she's incoherent with desire. She is the epitome of every depraved male-chauvinist fantasy - this beautiful woman, bound and begging for release as her perfect body writhes in exquisite agony. I should feel like a pig. I feel like a god. "God, Krycek... Please... I need to... " "You have to earn it. I won't give it to you unless you ask." I raise myself up till the head of my cock is resting against her entrance, but I refuse to give in to what we both want so badly. I need this victory. I need it to know she's mine. "Tell me you want this. Beg me, Dana!" I use my harshest, most desperate tone. It works; something in her breaks, and she's mine. "Please, Krycek! Please... I want you... I want you to..." "What do want me to do?" I press just the head of my cock inside her - fuck, she's tight - then fight every instinct to keep going and pull out again. "Is that what you want?" "Yes! That's what I want... Please. Fuck me." That's what I was waiting to hear. "Good girl." Her eyes widen with indignation at my words, then close tight as I enter her. I meant to make the first stroke slow and sweet; too bad my body isn't obeying anymore. My cock has had enough of the slow torment and now knows only that it is finally allowed access to the hot, sweet heaven of her body. The initial thrusts are quick and brutal; I'm glad she is so wet, because otherwise I'd be doing major damage right now. She feels so tiny and wondreful under me, I'm afraid of hurting her. I slow to let her adjust to the invasion, but she's less concerned than I am. "No, don't-- Please don't be gentle. I don't want that." "But I--" "Just fuck me. Make it rough." "Are you sure -?" She seems annoyed now "This is all I want - Just fuck me." Her words are more painful than the slap she delivered earlier. All hopes of having Dana Scully as my lover are crushed with those words. She will let me fuck her but nothing more. I can have her tonight, but that's all. Bitterness fills me. I didn't realize how much I'd wanted to make love to her, until she refused to let me be gentle with her. I force the disappointment not to show on my face. I slam my cock in to her hard with none of the finesse my earlier seduction showed, trying to punish her for not wanting me the way I wish she would. She revels in it. The pressure in my balls is growing as I let the punishing strokes continue. I'm holding her hips in place so tightly, I can see where the red marks from my fingers are going leave bruises in their wake tomorrow. Good - at least she'll have something to remember me by. "Yes! Yes, just like that! Fuck me, Alex, Please!" I grab the back of her head and force her to look at me. "No!" She looks confused. "Don't call me that." She looks surprised and hurt. "You called me Dana... I assumed--" "No! If this is just a quick fuck, then we don't use first names. Got it?" Realization dawns quickly; she shakes her head and smiles. "I want a rough fuck. But I want it from my lover." She pauses to let her words sink in "...Alex." I look down at her, stunned. "Perhaps next time we can take it slow," she adds "but right now, I have a different idea." There's going to be a next time? There's going to be a next time! "What do you have in mind, little girl?" I ask barely managing to contain my excitment. Instead of answering, she pulls herself away until we separate. I want to whimper with loss. She manages to turn over by twisting the tie until she's on her knees. "Please, like this..." This time I cannot hold back a wimper of pure need as I kneel behind her, licking all the way up her spine. She has a beautifully muscled back, tiny waist, and a museum-quality ass. She looks back at me and smiles lasciviously, the sort of smile that should be illegal. She sways her ass in the air taunting me. I'm going to fall in love with this bitch and there's nothing I can do to stop it. The first thrust is so good I almost lose it. I reach around and stroke her clit in counterpoint to the hard pounding of my cock. I'm not going to last much longer at this rate. "Oh, fuck. Alex, harder please... I'm so close... so close..." God, I feel like I'm halfway up her throat. She thrashes wildly, reminding me of a jungle cat in heat. My little tigress. We are definitely fucking like animals now. I'm marking what's mine in the most primal way, covering her completely with my body, my scent. kiss the back of her neck and growl possessively, "Mine." I grind her clit harder under my fingers. She gasps in response and I feel her tighten around me: she's coming and coming hard. I hear her unintelligible scream and it is my victory - Yes! I'm only a second behind her and as I feel the eruptions I bite her shoulder to keep from screaming as well. God, it's never been quite this good. Never. My cock feels like it's pumping out every drop of fluid in my body. When the last tremor passes, I collapse on top of her. All I can do is lie bonelessly on top of her till I catch my breath. She giggles beneath me. Dana Scully giggles? Who knew? "Alex, um... I can't breathe here." Oops. I manage to roll off of her and stagger over to find the handcuff keys. As I unlock the cuffs, I take each wrist and cover the marks with kisses, massaging lightly. She turns on her back and stares at me in wonder. "Who are you, Alex Krycek?" I smile and climb back into bed behind her, spooning and holding her tight. "I'm your lover, Dana Scully." She sighs contentedly and dozes off in my arms. Tonight is perfect. We'll deal with the rest as it comes. Finis. Authors Notes - This is my first attempt at fan fic so Please let me know if you what you likes vs hated or if I'm wasting my time and yours and this completely sucks... All feedback is treasured and answered. BTW-There might be one more piece to this little 'Wanting' trilogy... Also a million thanks to bardsmaid who's fantastic beta and wonderful writer - anything you like here I blame on her. Also thanks to Janet and Mrs. Stan Kelly - you guys rock!