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Jealousy Suits Him Well

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She’ll admit Tad is an attractive man.

Tall, handsome, younger and interested. She can even admit that the attention he is giving her is flattering to her ego. And she will also admit that when he asks her to dinner on the steps of the house she shared with Mulder, for over 10 years, that it brings her immense pleasure to know that Mulder is listening in.

And that’s the sole reason she accepts. She has no interest in Tad after all, but she’s feeling petty after catching Sveta in their home and wants a reaction. Childish her brain murmurs... but she already knows that.

He’s seething as the tyres of Tads car crunch away. A hot oil of fury pumping through his veins as Sveta says goodnight and heads upstairs. An anger radiating off him in waves, palpable and stifling, as he distracts himself by shuffling papers on the coffee table.

Good.

She left almost 2 years ago. Bags thrown into her car one frosty winter morning after months of trying to pull him from the darkness.
Heart cracking in half as she drove away, his silhouette in her rear view mirror watching her go… Her whole world left behind.

They’ve been intimate during their separation, of course… since he’s gotten better.
A rough shift at the hospital has her sneaking in at 3am, nakedly slipping between the sheets seeking out his warmth. His lips whispering wirds of worship into her neck as he fucked her up against her car after meeting for dinner. Soft whimpers as she rode him into oblivion on his birthday this year...

Things are good between them…

But he hasn’t asked her to come home and she hasn’t offered. That unspoken communication he so proudly boasted about all those years ago, leaving them in limbo. It's times like this she wishes they made it to one of those team building seminars…

She follows him when he walks the short distance into the kitchen. Watches as he violently opens the refrigerator before slamming it shut, the contents inside rattling around from the force. Beer in hand he stares her down.

“Maybe you should keep it down, Mulder. Wouldn’t want to disrupt your guest”

He ignores her jab, his 6’ frame leans against the cool metal of the fridge as his fingers twist the cap off his beer. The restrained anger from moments dissipating into an eerie calmness as he tilts the bottle to his lips, letting the cool liquid run down his throat in one gulp, empty bottle tossed into the garbage.

“You’re not going” he commands.

Her brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”, she scoffs.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes as he watches her, like a predator hunting its prey. The Fox waiting for the perfect moment to take down its target... Her panties flood with arousal at the thought.

He moves slowly, pushing away from the fridge and coming to stand in front of her, backing her up until she hits the counter behind her. “I said that little date with your boyfriend Tad. Isn’t happening…” his voice low.

Her spine straightens, lips curling into a taunting smirk. “Since when did I need to run what I do in my personal time by you, Mulder?”

His muscular arms come up on either side of her, boxing her in. No chance of escape as he leans in, his warm breath against her ear. “Since you agreed to be my wife”

“Careful Mulder. Jealousy doesn’t suit you...”. It’s a lie. Jealousy suits him very well.

She’s always loved him like this, this caveman side of him so rarely seen. Jaw clenched and eyes dark and feral. Domineering. Possessive. Territorial. Exactly what she wanted.

His body presses her into the counter, his cock big and hard beneath his jeans as he rolls it teasingly into her abdomen. “What doesn’t suit me is my wife flirting with some asshole conspiracy theorist in our home”. His hand snakes up her back, tangles in her hair and gently tugs back, forcing her eyes to meet his. “...and then agreeing to go on a date with him right in front of me”

He smells like sweat and soap. It makes her mouth water.

“You’ve got a girl half your age stored away upstairs” sharp nails roam the expanse of his chest, brushing across his nipples and trailing down until she can palm his bulge. Big and throbbing. “So I can’t imagine that you’ve forgotten that we are seperated”

“Separated? Is that what you call it, Scully?” he groans.

“What else would I call it?” She replies. “I’m free to do whatever I want”

The subtext of whoever is in her words but they both know she’s bluffing. Both know she’s doing this because she’s annoyed and wants to punish him. Both know she could never find another man to love her the way he loves her. Fuck her the way he fucks her.

They own each other. Belong to one another. Heart, body and soul.

He smirks then, kisses the corner of her mouth. “Honey, if you’re that desperate for a fuck you could have just asked” he growls planting a firm kiss to her lips.

Her mouth instinctively opens, whimpers as their tongues find one another. His hands snake down to grip her hips, hoist her up onto the countertop and her legs wrap around him, pulling him impossibly closer.
Frenzied hands snaking under his shirt before pulling it up and off his body. The flat of her tongue lapping over his nipple before biting down on it earning a grunt from him.

He’s mouthing her cleavage when she first hears it. The creak of floorboards above them… fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fu—

A voice from the stairs. “Fox?”