Prompt: can you write a fic of mulder and scully somehow ending up watching something from mulder's "collection" together? (pre-relationship)
When Mulder thought of serial killers utilizing works of art in their murders, he thought of cases inspired by Milton's Paradise Lost. Men who used their misguided identification with the poem's devil to justify their crimes. Innocent people suffering from the violence wrought by a red right hand.
A serial killer taking quotes from Pussy Shredder 7: Avenge of the Cock was not something he'd ever heard of.
Much to his relief, he wasn't the one to make the connection. That embarrassing honor befell one of the lab geeks who would never live it down, but much to his chagrin, he did happen to own a copy. Skinner was the one who ordered them to watch it. They knew it was to familiarize themselves with the killer's state of mind, why he was leaving vulgar quotes from a bad porno on the walls in his victims' blood, but Skinner was so clearly embarrassed, he didn't even get that far in the order. He only managed to bark, "Watch it before flying out tomorrow."
"Is that particular film a part of your collection, Mulder?" Scully had teased as they walked back to their office. Upon silence, sighing, "Oh my god."
"It was a Christmas gift, blame Frohike," he replied, defending himself.
She'd wanted to watch it in the office as she mused it was "probably inappropriate if they had to write that they watched it together at a different location" in the case report, but he insisted it would be much worse if it appeared to people like Spooky Mulder was being a pervert and forcing Agent Scully to watch porn while at work.
"What if someone hears and thinks it's us?" he'd asked.
Her face turned red and he watched the creamy expanse of her throat as she swallowed and her gaze flitted to the floor. "You're right. Fine. I'll be at your place around seven and we can watch it, so I'm filled-informed about his M.O," she replied professionally, albeit stammering to reveal her own Freudian slip.
"Can you pick up some popcorn on your way?" he joked.
"Very funny. How long is it?" she asked. "The tape."
She was more flustered than he was used to, and he decided this may be a lot more fun than he anticipated.
"Thirty minutes probably, maybe forty. I dunno, I've never actually seen the end," he teased. His joke landed and she exaggeratedly rolled her eyes, turning to her work and he found himself asking, "Have you ever watched porn, Scully?"
She looked up, surprised at how direct he was being. "I've seen clips." Then, as if offended, softly added: "I'm not a prude, Mulder."
"Did you seek them out?" he asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"I don't see why that matters," she replied. He put his hands up in surrender.
"Well, we're in for a treat tonight," he chuckled. "I'm going to go home and eat dinner before I dig around for the tape."
"I'll do the same," she stated, standing up and slipping her purse strap over her shoulder. "Don't forget to rewind it," she teased over her shoulder.
After he'd found the tape and the minutes until her arrival started to dwindle, the reality of the situation started to really dawn on him. He was about to watch a porno flick with Scully. His prim, professional partner, Scully.
They'd seen their fair share of indecency over the last few years, couples in motel rooms fucking so loud they'd both heard it, suspects confessing lewd and lascivious acts, but this was content made for the intended purpose of arousing its audience. From what he recalled, he didn't really like this one. He couldn't remember what it was exactly, but he was pretty sure the man was off-putting and the woman was faking it. The fact it wasn't one of his go-to's helped him, but it certainly didn't help that a little off-hand comment Scully made last year had haunted him ever since it left her mouth.
"Maybe if it rains sleeping bags you'll get lucky."
He couldn't even count how many times he'd touched himself to the fantasy of Scully's naked body squirming against his in a small, compact little sleeping bag. Now he was going to have to sit here next to the woman of his dreams while watching what he wanted to do with her enacted on screen.
Just as he contemplated whether or not jacking off before this would be in his best interest, the sound of three sharp knocks drew him out of his reverie and he walked over to let Scully in. She looked relatively the same since he saw her at the office, but she'd taken off her blazer so she was just wearing a light blue, short-sleeved v-neck that was tucked into a pair of her work slacks. "Hi," she greeted, walking into his apartment under the arm he was propping the door open with.
"Hey," he greeted, closing the door behind them. "Ready to pervert your mind?"
"I think we need to just get something out of the way first," she sighed, setting her bag down on his coffee table.
Mulder was quiet, wondering what she was thinking, and off of his silence, she explained, "I just think we both need to be on the same page that the film likely will have a physiological response on our bodies and I think we should agree not to make fun of the other for their body reacting to stimuli meant to be arousing."
Immediately, Mulder felt chagrined at the fact Scully not only anticipated his libido would flare up, but felt the need to address it. "That's nice of you to spare my feelings," he chuckled.
"I'm a flesh and blood woman, Mulder. I can react too," she replied, a hint of defensiveness in her tone.
Like he needed to be reminded.
"And if you do, I promise not to acknowledge it," he conceded, trying to begin practicing that right now so he didn't have to think about her admitting she might be getting aroused on his couch sitting less than a foot away from him.
"Good," she replied with a nod of her head.
He moved to push the tape in and when he turned around, he saw she'd settled on the couch and had put on her glasses, crossing her legs at the knee with a yellow legal pad resting on her thigh.
He guffawed and she looked at him quizzically while he sat next to her. "What?"
"You're taking notes?" he balked.
"Need I remind you why we're here?" she replied.
"Sorry, I'm just excited to see the end result," he replied as the trademark, cheesy jazz music started playing over his speakers while he sat next to her.
They both sat there in silence as the black title cards flashed on the screen, showing some of the quotable moments from the film as a preview.
"The only thing harder to pull out was Excalibur."
"This bitch is about to get stabbed in the back more than Caesar."
"Better around a rim than Lebron."
Scully scoffed and murmured, "Those are the worst lines I've ever heard."
"I don't know, I think the Excalibur one was kinda funny," he joked, laughing when she rolled her eyes at him.
The film wasn't all that different from any other porno. It started with a male 'construction worker' coming into a woman's home to do some home improvements. The woman is a bit flirty, reveals that the husband won't be home for a while, and then the construction worker sweeps her up in his arms and splays her out on the kitchen counter.
Mulder and Scully sat on opposite ends of the couch in respective silence, the sounds of heavy breathing and fabric rustling against fabric filling the empty space of his apartment. He looked out of the corner of his eye and saw Scully staring at the screen with a neutral, impassive expression. It remained that way for a few minutes as the couple on-screen just kept dry humping each other, intermittently interrupted by the man asking if she liked "being a naughty slut." When the man brought the woman to her knees and she started giving him a blow job.
"Lookie here, a hoe getting plowed."
Scully finally moved, crossing one leg over the other so she could get leverage to write on her legal pad.
"What'd you write down?" he asked.
"Disrespect," she replied, the audible emphasis of the ball scratching against the paper as she underlined it adding to her conviction.
"Which part?" he replied.
"I don't know of a person in the world who likes to have their head brutally shoved down like that during fellatio. It's already such an intimate act, and to be all but suffocated like that makes it so impersonal."
He glanced at the screen and saw she was right, as soon as the woman took him in deep enough, the man would keep his hand firmly pressed against the back of her head until her eyes watered and the sounds of gagging could be heard.
Mulder cringed and looked back to Scully who was jotting down a few other notes. "That's a good point, it does show a lack of regard for the other person," he agreed with a nod.
"Have you observed anything noteworthy?" she asked, turning to him.
"Um," he stammered, accidentally having been paying too much attention to being in the same room as her while this was playing rather than the tape itself. "The actor said some of the lines that appeared at the crime scene, same with the beginning."
"The plow one?"
"Yeah, and it might be worth noting that this particular storyline focuses on a man intruding in another man's space," he remarked, pleased to have come up with something on the spot. "I don't mean to make the woman sound like a possession, but his," Mulder emphasized, pointing at the man on the screen, "-uh, phrases make this seem like a conquest."
"Like his pleasure comes from having sex with another man's wife rather than the act itself," she prompted, scribbling down.
"Maybe so, and that's why he's being so callous towards her," he replied, taking note of Scully's exhalation of agreement.
"The construction worker role could be a component too. Maybe the killer works a trade job that gives him this kind of access. Perhaps he was hired by a white-collar worker who made him feel inferior. By fixing the home and violating the wife, maybe it's his way of getting the upper hand," she mused, scribbling on the notepad.
"Damn, Scully. I'm going to have to learn how to do an autopsy if we're going to switch roles like that," he praised. She never ceased to impress him.
She said nothing, but she smirked in response. Their attention turned to the screen to see the blowjob had turned into the woman being thrown back on the counter as the man started fucking her madly. The first few thrusts were met with resistance, so he pulled out and spat on the woman's crotch, coating his dick in the saliva before plunging into her again.
"Does that actually feel good?"
Initially he thought she meant having sex, but thinking better, he asked for clarification. "Does what feel good?"
She motioned towards the screen that was showing the man in the film taking the base of his cock in his hand and slapping the length against the woman's labia lips repeatedly. "Hitting your um, penis like that. Slapping it around when it's erect, doesn't it hurt?" she asked. "Or is it just a dominance thing? Less about how it feels and more about how it looks?"
"Does it hurt for the woman?" If she was going to ask him an intimate question, he wanted to see if she'd return the favor.
"Well, no, but outward stimulation like that is good for the clit," she replied and he wondered if she realized she'd said clit instead of clitoris, breaking her streak of being clinical. "It would have a similar effect to a pubic bone pressing against it during penetration, but penises don't usually um, flail like that."
"I can't speak for all men, but I guess-" he paused, realizing his answer was going to deviate from generalizations about the human body to his own thoughts. "I always thought it felt nice for the recipient. Yeah, it's visually appealing, but I think it's just done to ramp things up for the main event, anticipation as an act of foreplay."
She made a little hum of acknowledgment in response, nodding as she took in the information. There was a pause of silence before he decided to test the limits. "Does it?"
"Does it what?"
"Feel good?"
She licked her lips like she did when she was in deep contemplation, and he was about to say she didn't have to answer when she shrugged. "Depends. If they're actually hitting my clit like how you mentioned, it can be very stimulating, but when they're just tapping at my labia it feels perfunctory. I think it's a dominance thing where they want to hear me ask for it because I can't take it anymore when in actuality most times I end up asking because I'm just getting annoyed."
Mulder let out a low breath and hoped she didn't hear it. His body reacted viscerally to hearing her talk so candidly about her own. Usually, he delegated thoughts of Scully's sexuality to the 'do not open' file folder in his schema for this very reason: it overwhelmed him. Thoughts of her having or wanting to have sex, knowing she had preferences and fantasies, imagining her getting aroused, it all drove him wild.
He imagined Scully splayed open, spreading her legs in eager anticipation of him as he rubbed himself against her wet folds until she breathily begged, "Please, Mulder."
"I could see how that is definitely catering to the male ego a bit," he replied, his throat a little tighter than he wished it was.
Out of his periphery, he saw her jot that down, presumably getting an idea of the killer's mental state.
He watched the screen, trying to find anything to say, and he was impressed at how just the mere idea of Scully's sexuality turned him on far more that watching fully naked people have sex. The man on screen grabbed the woman's legs and pushed on them until her thighs were parallel to her obliques.
"You should take note that maybe he's fascinated by women with the ability to contort their bodies," Scully made a dismissive sound that caused him to turn and look at her. "What?"
"She's not a contortionist, that's not difficult to do," she replied back.
Mulder looked back at the screen at the woman whose thighs were currently folding into herself like a collapsible chair. "Can you do it?" he asked, surprising himself.
Wordlessly, she uncrossed her legs and hitched one up so it was like the woman on the tape. She moved her arm around so that her elbow was pressed into the bottom of her thigh as her hand wrapped around the area of her calf below her kneecap, and he thought for a moment she just might even hook her calf around her head to rest on the back of her neck. "I think you could do it if you tried," she shrugged, letting her leg fall back down so she could resume her initial position.
Mulder felt his cock twitch at the sight, imagining what it would be like if she did it with both legs. Naked. How his cock embedded inside of her would be gripped by her inner muscles as she contorted herself around him. She turned to look at him over the rim of her glasses and he realized he'd been just staring dumbly at her.
"I think I'd break my hip," he chuckled, crossing his legs in an attempt to hide his burgeoning erection. They'd agreed that they wouldn't make fun of one another if either got aroused, but he wasn't sure how that would change when it was obvious she was what turned him on.
The sharp sound of a slap caused them both to look back at the screen where they saw the man had slapped the woman's breast, the mound shaking in the wake of his impact as she moaned. "Now, does that feel good?" he asked incredulously, pointing at the screen. "Clearly I think it's meant as disrespect here, but do women like that?"
"It would feel a lot different for her than it would for me," she replied without explaining.
"What do you mean?" The woman on screen, if he had to guess, was maybe a cup size or two larger than Scully, but she wasn't Dolly Parton by any means.
"My chest is small," she admitted shyly, playing with the pen in her hands nervously. "Flat."
"I-I don't think that's true," he comforted, unsure if he should say it but deciding he'd rather risk getting slapped than let her ruminate in her self-consciousness. Part of him wondered if this was a long-standing insecurity, or a newer one. She'd lost quite a bit of weight during her bout with cancer, but she was recovering. She looked great, healthy. The idea she didn't like any aspect of her body hurt him as someone who spent so much time admiring it.
"I've been told…" she waved her hand and upon his look added, "during."
Knowing that someone was blessed with the opportunity to be intimate with Scully and had the audacity to make a comment about her body, one that clearly hurt her feelings in a vulnerable moment and stuck with her, made his blood boil.
"I never purposefully leer to be disrespectful, but I've spent enough time around you over the years to be acquainted with your, um… shape. You're far from flat-chested," he explained.
"Thank you, but you've only ever seen me in bras though, Mulder," she replied with a light chuckle. "They call it a Wonderbra for a reason. It works wonders."
"I don't think you're wearing a bra when you're in your pajamas or in hospital gowns," he countered.
He watched as she brought her lips into her mouth and he hoped it was a smile she was repressing and not irritation at him admitting to staring at her chest on more than one occasion. "I appreciate that, Mulder," she replied softly, playing with the cap of the pen in her hands.
He wasn't sure if she meant that she was convinced or if she was agreeing to end the conversation. "The guy who said that was probably just used to the word 'small' being used in reference to himself."
He earned a Scully-smile for that one. "Is that your professional opinion as a profiler?"
Nodding with exaggerated severity, he stated, "My opinion as a profiler, and as a man who's never felt the need to insult a woman mid-coitus."
She smiled, then turned back to the task at hand. "To answer your earlier question: no. I don't think that would feel good. My, um, smaller breasts are usually more sensitive. That would be overwhelming, and probably painful."
"That makes sense," he replied. Mulder turned to the television but let his eyes close for a second, trying desperately to file away the newfound information that Scully just admitted to him that her breasts are sensitive, but it was just staying at the forefront of his mind. All he could do was imagine rubbing the pads of his fingers over her nipples, watching her squirm and whimper from the sensation. He wondered if she could come from just the stimulation alone.
He opened his eyes just in time to see the man vigorously masturbating in the woman's face, her eyes uncomfortably darting to look at someone off-camera as she waited for the man to finish in her open mouth. The moment came and the man howled grotesquely as thick, white ropes of semen spurted across her face. Mulder cringed as he watched the woman's eyes squeeze shut as he missed, though he probably wasn't being courteous enough to avoid her eyes in the first place. The man patted the woman's head like a dog, rubbing his semen into her hair, before the tape cut out.
The VCR clunked as the sound of the automatic rewinder started whirring in the room, leaving Mulder and Scully sitting in front of a blue screen.
"So that's the type of stuff you like to watch?" she asked, breaking the silence.
He felt a wave of unease pass over him as he realized what Scully must be thinking of him if she thinks this is his brand of pornography, but he didn't know how she'd react if he just started listing off the types he liked. Not only did her perception of this as his porn of preference negatively reflect how he viewed women, but probably gave the impression he was a shitty lover. Despite his whirlwind of feelings, he settled with a simple answer. "Actually, I'm really not a fan of this one."
"Why not?"
"I wasn't kidding when I said Frohike got it for me from a bargain bin. Though I'm pretty sure if he'd watched it, he would have thrown it away. I must've thought the same after he gave it to me because I found it in a trash pile that I've been neglecting for months," he joked, before admitting, "But honestly, he didn't treat her very well and that's a turn-off for me."
"A man concerned about the woman's pleasure in porn? Well I'll be damned, they do exist," she teased.
He chuffed a laugh, but the fact she said it made him think about how her past lovers must have been with her and it made him uncomfortable to think of her being treated as merely subsidiary to her partner's pleasure. "Men who don't care about their partner should stick to the company of their own hand."
She laughed and the sound brought a smile to his face. "I wish some of my old boyfriends lived by that motto," she replied, yet again making light of her mistreatment.
He was used to seeing her deal with shitty men at work and in the field. Men who belittled her, tried to make her feel small. As far as he was concerned, her pantsuits were stronger than armor, and her wit was sharper than a sword. Usually, the men who condescended to her in public did it to make themselves feel better about their own insecurities, but he'd find out after the fact that those same men would corner her and try to flirt. Scully took no shit and she'd put them in their place with ease.
It made him sick to imagine she might lay with someone she trusted to be a good man, only to have the mask fall off while she was naked and vulnerable. Giving an intimate piece of herself to someone who only gave her misogyny in return.
"You deserve better," he stated firmly.
Her smile faded slightly and she started playing with the edges of the yellow paper, picking at the tacky binding keeping it together. "So, um. What do you think would have made it better in the tape?"
"Well, first off, he should have gone down on her," he answered immediately.
Mulder watched as she wrote 'disregard to the pleasure of others indicative of disregard for life?' Despite their clearly loaded conversation, she was still making sure to stay even slightly on task.
"If he made her come once that way, she would have been wetter and more prepared for penetration. You could see it on the tape, him spitting on her like that is still loaded with disrespect, but he needed the saliva because he wasn't preparing her well enough," he remarked.
He watched her jot down some more notes with a nod. "How would you have changed it?" he asked, turning the question back to her. "To make it better?"
"I think you're right," she replied. "I think when partners are willing to do that it helps, and I imagine having an orgasm before penetration would make it easier too."
"Willing?" he repeated with distaste. "That makes it sound like a chore."
Scully regarded him oddly as if she was expecting him to laugh or say he was kidding. Her confusion caused her words to really sink in for him. "You imagine?"
"I-I just-" she stammered, trying to find her words.
"Have your partners never made you come that way?" he asked, his knee nudging hers and causing her to intake a sharp breath.
She shrugged and he already knew her answer. "No, but they tried. I think I just knew they didn't want to do it in the first place, so it made me feel guilty. I felt like I needed to just make it quick which took me out of it, and then I couldn't…"
The sound of a sheet tearing gently filled the apartment as she picked nervously at the pad and ripped the corner of the page. Scully wasn't looking at him anymore and it made him sad to think she was the one embarrassed when her partners had failed her. "Scully," he prompted, waiting until she looked at him to continue. "I hate your exes."
A laugh escaped her lips and he was glad he got her to smile again. "I'm envious of yours, I suppose," she replied before the implication hit her ears, causing her whole face to flush. "I mean-"
"I know what you mean," he replied with a smile.
They were quiet for a minute before she blurted, "He didn't kiss her either."
"And he was rough with her," he added.
She cocked her head slightly to the side immediately and pulled her bottom lip in her mouth like she was contemplating something. "I don't think rough sex is inherently bad," she mused, her words pitching up at the end like the inflection of a question.
To him, it sounded like she was defending something she was into, but the rational part of him didn't want to jump to any lust-inspired conclusions. To try to coax her to say more so he could better understand where she was coming from, he prompted, "How do you mean?"
"A lot of women can find it appealing with the right partner," she replied. "Not in the way we just watched, when there's an underlying worry that it might go too far, but I think there's an appeal in being able to trust someone with your body in such a vulnerable way, a mix of pain that compliments the pleasure."
"Hmm," he hummed and nodded in response. Mulder knew he should say something, but hell, he was a warm-blooded man and the woman of his dreams just confessed something overtly sexual about herself to him and he was having a hard time getting his mind past that.
"But you don't feel the same?" she prompted.
"Are you asking for the male perspective of giving or receiving the rough sex?" he asked.
"Can't it be mutual?"
Touché, Scully. "I think you're right, I think it's pleasurable unless the trust isn't fully formed and one partner is subconsciously worried about their safety. From my perspective, I've always been the physically larger one, and I've been so anxious at the prospect of ever making the person I'm with feel like I was being too rough or fearing my excitement could be translated as being too forceful that I've never tried."
She chuffed at that and he felt his brow furrow slightly. "What?"
She turned to him with an incredulous look on her face and mused, "You're so overly conscientious when I can't think of a man less likely to hurt someone. Especially in such an intimate way."
He considered her perception of him to be more accurate and truthful than what he saw reflected in the mirror. Mulder trusted her judgment implicitly. Even if he didn't feel like a good man, if she said he was then it had to be true. What she thought of him was what mattered most.
"Thank you," he replied, sincerely touched by her admission.
He wanted to ask her if she'd had success with rough sex, but he didn't want to pry into something that had the potential to upset her, and him. But while this newfound knowledge about Scully was being processed in his mind, it passed by another piece of information that lived in a state of limbo since he couldn't figure it out, the two blending together to leave an uncomfortable pit in the bottom of his stomach. Was Jerse too rough with you, Scully? Did he make you feel vulnerable? Did it feel dangerous?
Was that what you wanted?
Mulder wasn't sure if he wanted the answer, and he knew he wasn't exactly in the place to judge. He was sure she'd have plenty to say if she knew his motivations behind his tryst with Kristen while she was abducted — how he'd managed to use an act of pleasure as a form of self-harm.
It amazed him how he and Scully really were just two sides of the same coin, different in appearance, but fundamentally the same. The yin to his yang.
"You mentioned he didn't kiss her," he stated, rerouting the conversation. "That would have made it better for her?"
"I mean," she stammered, shrugging slightly. "Yeah, of course."
"Even if he was a bad kisser?"
She smirked at that and he watched as she started tracing the pink, vertical line of the page with quick strokes. "Well, I don't know. If we're talking about how to make it better for her, presuming he cares, then yeah. I think kissing's always… appreciated."
Last time they were in a situation this tense, a bee joined the party.
He watched as she reached her hand up so that she was rubbing the back of her neck, as if to soothe the phantom sting. When Scully's gaze locked onto his, he watched her hand fall back into her lap and he wondered if something in his eyes reminded her of that night in the hallway. "Always appreciated?" he repeated in a gentle murmur.
"I think maybe this was a mistake," she whispered, her eyes falling to his lips before settling back into her lap.
Guilt swelled in his chest and threatened to suffocate him at the notion he'd made her uncomfortable and gone too far. That he'd danced on the line they'd drawn in the sand and now she felt exposed and unprotected. "I'm sorry."
"N-no, it's me," she replied, moving to grab her stuff.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his brow furrowing. She stood up, intending to leave, but he grabbed her wrist, keeping her there as he stood up next to her. "Scully, I don't want you leaving here upset. I'm sorry I was being inappropriate-"
"No, I was being inappropriate too. I'm sorry, I just-" she sighed.
"What?" he murmured.
"I'm having trouble agreeing to the terms I set," she admitted, her gaze flitting down his body once before turning away with her lip pressed in between her teeth.
"Oh," he replied lamely, his anxiety calming down when he realized she wasn't upset with him. She was just aroused by him. "Oh."
He was harder now than he'd been the entire time the tape was going. His cock felt heavy and warm as it strained against his slacks, the teeth of his zipper digging into him. Looking at her now, it was clear she was just as affected as he was. Scully's flush was high on her cheeks, melting down to paint the creamy skin of her neck, before pooling at the tops of her breasts. She was looking behind him with wide glassy eyes, and it pained him to think she was planning to run away again.
He couldn't lose her like this after he'd just gotten her back.
Mulder took his free hand and cupped her jaw, coaxing her to look at him. "It's okay," he murmured reassuringly.
"We shouldn't," she deflected, though not moving to pull away.
"Why not?"
Her mouth opened as if to say the thousands of reasons that were on her mind, only for her lips to purse together instead.
"I care about you and I think you care about me," he assured her softly.
"Of course I do," she murmured softly before sharply intaking a breath when his thumb stroked the skin of her cheek.
"The ball's in your court, Scully. I will follow whatever lead you set. If you want to leave and pretend this never happened, if you want to debrief about the video and I'll be the pillar of professionalism, or-" he trailed off.
Her eyes locked on his and she repeated in a whisper, "Or?"
"Maybe we could try again, sans bee."
She smiled almost imperceptibly, but her voice didn't hold a trace of humor, "That's a big decision to put on me."
"It's not all on you," he said softly. "I think you know my answer already."
"And you don't know mine?" she whispered in disbelief.
He did. She'd told him her answer a thousand times over. After seven years together, she was practically screaming in it in his ear. Every time she saved his ass or laughed at his bad jokes or heard his theories and still treated him with respect afterward. Scully loved him. It just felt too good to be true.
Scully had run straight towards some of the scariest situations imaginable during their partnership, all for him.
He needed to do the same for her.
Sliding his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, he pulled her forward until his lips were crashing onto hers.
