Secret Bird
by Politic X

Part 9
See part 0 for header information.


My hand's on her neck, in her hair.  I want her
desperately.  "Say it again."

"Dana," she whispers.

My hand's beneath her blouse, on her breast.  I
need her desperately.  "Say it again."

"Dana," she moans.  Her long legs are lifting,
bending.

My hand's inside her panties, inside her.  I love
her desperately.  "Say it again."

"Dana."

And this is when I realize that some women are so
powerful they can bring you to orgasm merely by
saying your name.

----------------------

I've never held a live wire before, but I imagine
the feeling is similar.  Dana's so intense that
heat radiates from her body.  She's tiny, but she's
a force.  She's got me trapped in the club chair.
I sat down to rest my feet, and Dana just walked
boldly up to me, leaned down and began fucking my
mouth.  She still is; her tongue could be down my
throat if I wasn't twisting and turning beneath
her.  Everywhere she touches makes me quiver.

She must think love is war, and that she has to
conquer me, because that's how she's kissing me.
What she doesn't understand is that she's already
won the battle, and her victory wasn't marked by my
orgasm, but hers.  I wasn't even touching her when
she came, just saying her name and hanging on while
her hands roamed all over my body.  I wonder if she
climaxed so easily because she's in love with me or
because her emotions are so intense that she's
always on the verge of erupting.  Whatever the
reason, I know I've never felt as powerful or as
grateful as then, when her body tensed, her eyes
squeezed shut, and her hand stilled.

I touch her face, her hair.  She's beautiful.

"I think we should take this to your bedroom."  She
kisses me.  "Don't you?"

Yes.  No.  The thought terrifies me - I want her,
but it's too much right now.  I'm anxious enough
the first time with somebody, and for the past
fifteen years, those somebodies have been men.  I
shouldn't be so nervous, and maybe if we just sat
here a while longer, I wouldn't be.

I don't know how to please her in bed, but this
isn't really what concerns me.  Her intensity is
what's so disconcerting.  She's going to burn me.
I just want to kiss her for the rest of the night.
I pull her down on top of me in the chair and run
my hands up her back.  The kiss I give her is
steady and slow.  I want this to last forever.  She
might be disappointed if it goes any further.  I
know I will.  Sex is never as good as cuddling.

"Monica."  Her lips move on my mouth and then she
pulls away to kiss my cheek.  "God, you've got the
sweetest kisses."  She takes my hand.  "Come on."

I press my lips together and look away.  I'm 34
years old and I've had sex plenty of times.
There's no need for me to be afraid, especially of
her.  But I'm terrified, especially of her.

She pulls away.  "Or I can leave."

Whatever dark emotion's on her face makes me feel
worse.  I shake my head.  "I'm just nervous."

"Why?"

"It's been a long time," my voice dips so low that
it cracks.  I clear my throat.  "Since I've been
with a woman."

She turns my chin.  "Monica."  Her voice is a soft
reprieve.

"I'm afraid."  I'm afraid of falling in love with
her.  I'm afraid I already have.

"We don't have to do this."  Her face is gentle.

I kiss her my gratitude.  My hands are in her hair,
my mouth opening beneath her.  Her kisses are
giving me everything I want.  We don't need to take
it any further.

Dana's tenderness is momentary.  Her tongue's deep
inside my mouth, her fingernails scrape across my
neck.  "But I need to leave if we're not going to,
okay?  I need to leave now."

I kiss her again, slowly.  Why can't we kiss all
night?

Both of her hands are in my blouse.  "God," she
murmurs.  "Monica-"

My lips kiss her talking mouth, but she pulls away.
Her hands are still on my breasts, fingers circling
the nipples.  "If I'm not staying here tonight, we
have to stop this now."  Her voice is ragged.
"While I can.  Do you understand?"

While she can.  The thought of her forcing herself
on me sends shivers down my spine.  I nod,
wordless.  I don't want her to leave, but I don't
know if she should stay.  My feelings overwhelm me.

"What's it going to be?"  Her fingers pinch me
inside my blouse.  I look down at them and shiver.
Dana Scully's hands are on my breasts.  "Monica?"
Her voice is a warning.  I look at her, but away
quickly, because her face is raw lust.  "Am I
making the decision?"  She pulls her hands out of
my shirt, caresses the deep V line of my blouse.
"Look at me."  It's a command, and I force myself
to meet her eyes.  She's questioning me, but I
can't answer.  I'm so afraid of this.  "You want me
to make the choice?"  Her voice is soft, but it
still sounds like a threat.  Her eyes dip down to
her hands and then back to my eyes.  She yanks the
shirt open, tearing it savagely.  And she looks
victorious at my shock.

Her mouth is on one of my breasts, sucking and
nipping, and then it's on the other.  I'm trying to
hold still, but I can't.  I stifle a scream when
she bites my nipple.  She pulls away, leering at
me.  I don't know what I've gotten myself into.
I'm terrified and so, so wet.  "I can fuck you
right here," she says.  "But I'd rather fuck you in
there."

She pulls me up.  This is just like being with a
man; it's pure sex.  She walks me to my bedroom.
But sex has never felt like this.  My shirt is torn
open and it's barely hanging together.  I'm
extremely aware of the chill of the air on my
breasts where her saliva is beginning to dry.

I stop inside my room, and she closes the door
behind us.  I just stand here, uncertain, feeling
nervous.  I've never been so turned on in my life,
but I'm paralyzed.  My heart's about to jump out of
my chest; my knees are almost knocking.

She's behind me, removing my blouse.  It's ruined,
and the sight of it as she drops it to the floor
makes my legs weak.  This is what she's capable of,
such violent lust.  Her hands are on the zipper of
my skirt.  She'll have me undressed in a moment.
No.  I grab her wrists to stop her, but release
them and turn around to face her.

"Don't make me stop," she whispers, and puts her
hands on my waist and begins kissing my breasts so
sweetly that I can almost forget how she tore my
blouse to get to them.  She kisses my breasts and
my neck, and I'm bending toward her.  She's kissing
my lips, opening her mouth beneath me, letting my
tongue slip inside.  Her hands are on my zipper.
I'm shaking.  I feel like a virgin.

I can't.  I can't let her undress me like this.
It's too fast.  I push her arms, slide my hands
down to her hands and hold them.  She leans against
my chest, breathing heavy.  "Okay."  But her voice
isn't resigned, it's agitated.  She kisses my chest
between my breasts very softly.  She kisses my
collarbone the same way.  She kisses my throat.
These kisses are so chaste and sweet that I don't
realize she's pushing me back toward my bed until
my calves hit it.

She looks up at me, smiling.  But her eyes flash
with that frightening passion, and her hands break
out of my grip, and she's easing me down onto the
bed.  I think I'm having a heart attack.  I don't
want it to be this way, but I do.  My legs are
already opening for her.  She's between them,
pushing my knees.  I'm still wearing my boots, and
I dig them into the duvet, scooting away from her,
but giving her better access.  Dana stares at me
and reaches beneath my skirt with both hands and
very slowly pulls my panties down.  I raise
slightly, and helping her in this tiny way causes
her to pause for a moment, her mouth dropping open.
Then she has them down my thighs, over my boots.
She stands and pulls them off me completely and
drops them on the floor.  Her hesitation is brief.
She must be contemplating whether or not to finish
undressing me, because her eyes roam down to my
lower body and back up.  The sight of her makes me
weak; I want her to make up her mind and do
something already.

She kneels between my legs, kisses me on my chest,
my breasts, the same slow, sweet kisses that she
seduced me with before.  I touch her head, tease my
hand through her hair, and she seems to adore this.
She runs her tongue along my neck.  "Monica," she
says softly, and moves her lips to my face.  She
kisses it everywhere before settling on my mouth.
Our kiss is unhurried.  I have both of my hands in
her hair now, then on her back.  She's so gentle
and this is so good that I'm beginning to relax.

If it would stay like this, I'd be fine, but her
tenderness is barely concealing something rawer.
She's moving away from my mouth and now comes the
moment I'm frightened of.  This moment, when she
touches her hands to my thighs and spreads them,
when her face dips down and she darts her tongue
out to taste me.  I practically vault off the bed
at the sensation.  She moans and buries her face
between my legs, and she stays there, her hands
holding my skirt at my waist, holding my thighs
open, until she's made me come in her mouth.

Dana must realize that she's won the battle, and
that I'm hers, because she finally sits up.  Her
mouth is wet.  She looks at me silently then unzips
my boots and pulls them off.  She's completely
serious and deliberate, placing the boots beside
the bed and then standing to look down at me.  She
pulls her blouse over her head, like it's time for
her to get to work.  I guess her shirt was
hindering her.

"Oh, God."  I actually say this aloud.  She must
shop at Victoria's Secret.  I never would have
pegged her as the type.  And I never would have
thought that I'd be the type to ogle.  Her face
flashes a self-conscious look, and then she tosses
the blouse on the floor.  I want to touch her.  She
looks vulnerable for the first time tonight.  Even
when I hurt her earlier and she was trying to
escape, she'd had her guard up.

I wiggle away from her and sit up.  I want to hold
her so badly that nothing else will do.  I reach
over and touch her shoulders and pull her to me,
awkward and clumsy, until I have her in my arms,
and she's leaning against me and she's between my
legs, and I'm sitting with her cradled in my arms.
I hold her and brush her hair back and kiss her
slick mouth, and taste myself there.  I hold her
head in the crook of my arm and kiss her over and
over.  I kiss her until my fear is gone; I kiss her
until she's the one that grows frightened.  She
doesn't want to be exposed and vulnerable.  I try
to kiss away her fear.  I kiss her until she's
pliable in my hands, her eyes closed, her lips
trembling.

Her skin is soft under my fingers.  I touch her
neck, feel her pulse there, and kiss it tenderly.
I want to be gentle with her, gentler than anyone
has ever been.  I kiss her mouth again.  She's so
quiet and serious.  I touch her breast, first
through her satin bra, and then pulling the strap
down, kissing along her shoulder, I touch her
breast.  She jerks beneath me, but doesn't make a
sound. I want to take her in my mouth and make love
to her.  This is who Dana Scully is, this fragile
woman in my arms who tries to be tough all the
time, who's so accustomed to depending on no one
but herself that she's built up walls around her
heart.  And she's trusting me now by letting those
walls slowly collapse.

I lay her down, and her eyes become large and
questioning.  I cover her face, her neck, her chest
with kisses, and undo her bra, and my lips are all
over her breasts, and this will never be enough for
me.  I want to show her what love is and how warmth
can be more fulfilling than heat.  I want her to
see that she's right to trust me.

I trail kisses down her stomach and unzip her
pants.  And they're so tight I can't pull them
down.  This makes me laugh.  She stares at me,
indignant, and then she begins laughing, too.  "I
didn't think I'd get this far tonight.  I'd have
worn something looser."  Her hand is in my hair and
her eyes are shining with affection.

My heart skips a beat at this look.  She's softer
than I've ever seen her.  "You're saying you didn't
wear them for my benefit?"

"Oh, I wore them for your benefit.  Just thought it
would take a little more than tight pants to get
you into bed."  Her eyes wink.  "Did you wear that
blouse for me?"

I turn really red.

"Backless?"  Her hand's on my face, cupping it.
Her thumb moves to my lips.  "Monica?  You devil."

"I'm in love with you."  It pops out of my mouth,
and I didn't think it and I didn't plan it, it just
pops out.

Dana's lips form an 'o' but she makes no sound.
She pulls me down on top of her and kisses me so
hard and for so long that I forget for a moment
where we are.  I'm somewhere floating, my ears are
ringing and I'm falling and falling in love, over
and over.  I have to return this gift.  She has to
know how she makes me feel, and how I love her.  I
have to make her see how special she is.

I pull and push her pants down.  She helps me; she
squirms and wiggles them off, and she's nothing now
except dark green Victoria's Secret panties and
matching bra, unclasped.  My hands are touching
her, exploring her everywhere, and she's making
little noises, moans, whimpers.  My feelings are so
deep that my fingertips tremble on her skin, and I
want them to heal her.  That's what I focus on.

Her chest rises and falls in a more rapid pattern
now, and finally I have her naked and I kiss her
breasts, her stomach, her thighs.  Seeing her
vulnerable like this overwhelms me.  I want to make
up for every bad thing that's happened to her.
There are scars all over her body.  It breaks my
heart.

"Your skirt," she breathes.

I take it off and lie down over her, and this is
when I'm really aware of how small she is.  I'm
afraid I'll hurt her, so I carefully distribute my
weight to my elbows, my knees.  I'm positioned so
that our breasts touch, and it's unbelievable, this
softness, this emotion.  I try not to cry from the
sweetness of it.

This is the first time I make love to Dana Scully,
and I act like it's the last time.  I pour every
bit of love I have for her into kisses.  I kiss her
entire body little by little, and when I scoot down
the bed and have my head between her thighs, I'm
still taking my time.  She doesn't allow this,
though; it seems she thinks she's been still long
enough, and she grabs my hair and pulls my head up
roughly.  The look on her face makes me weak.  Then
she's pushing and twisting until I'm flat on my
back again and she's straddling me.  It seems to be
a position she's fond of; she looks triumphant.  I
just smile at her, though, because I know her
secret.  It's the same as mine.

"What?"  She pinches my nipple, then leans over to
take it between her lips.

I don't answer her, just run my hands through her
hair and down her back and across her hips.  I slip
my fingers between her legs at the same time her
fingers push inside me, painfully scraping.  My
fingernails aren't as long as hers, and they won't
hurt her, so I follow her lead and push myself
inside her forcefully.  She gasps and bucks, and
she's sweating and breathing hard and we're slow,
sweet burning suddenly exploding.  We're liquid
fire, and we melt and drip and die and moan and
come and come and come.

---------------------

"Edain."  I don't mean to say it.  Edain's an Irish
legend - the most beautiful woman in the world.

Dana's eyes are mere slits; the lashes flutter and
close.  "Hey," she breathes, smiling.

I stare down at her for a long moment.  I've never
been in bed with anyone like her.  She radiates
heat and she's constantly coiling and uncoiling,
pulsing in the night.  She's almost still now, her
breathing a steady vibration; she's fallen asleep
again.  I kiss her gently on the lips.

(Continued in part 10)