He stood in the doorway, dazed. He had strolled to Danger Room, out of curiosity, after hearing sounds of scuffle from inside. He had been expecting to see Scott, testing out some new gory scenario. Man had been dabbling in the control room last few days non-stop. It wasn’t even near what he had been expecting. And now he couldn’t move. He couldn’t even breathe. He could only stare, strange numbing tingling spreading slowly all over his skin, making him shiver.

Scenery was almost serene. Beach at night. Soft breeze from the ocean. Full moon looming low in the sky. Her moves were flawless and gracious. Every twist, dash and turn in synch with her opponent. Moonlight pure glowing liquid on her naked body. Soft hiss of sand under her feet. Her breathing hitching up a notch, short moment of hesitation when she seemed to falter. Bright splash of crimson when she cut her opponent’s throat with a small knife she was wielding. Primal scream of victory escaping from her throat.

Low growl alerted her about his presence. She turned slowly and met his hooded gaze. Threw away the knife and wiped blood from her hands to her stomach. Again he growled. His eyes seemed to shine their own inner light. From his posture, and slight bulge in front of his tight jeans she could tell he had been watching for a while. He had clearly enjoyed every second of it.

It was probably the most erotic sight he had ever witnessed. She was so calm and collected, efficient. His eyes, guts and crotch were hurting from the power of his feelings. Rest of him was frozen solid, all strength drained away. She walked to him and caressed his face with her bloodied hand, marking him, and he couldn’t stop it. He snarled. This time it wasn’t a sign of appreciation. It was a challenge. Animal in him, howling to protest the way seemingly weaker creature had taken control and possession over him. She just tilted her head and bared her teeth, purring her response. He lunged at her before either of them realized what was happening.

They were rolling on the soft sand, grasping and grappling, biting and scratching. Night was still around them. He could hear her heart pounding. Her blood sung to him, pulsing just under the surface of her skin. Stench of artificial blood wasn’t enough to mask the scent of her. Faint scent of arousal, vanilla and peppermint. He managed to pin her under him, hands secured above her head with his own hand, his other keeping her in place from her waist. She was furious, skin gleaming from sweat, trashing and roaring, trying to kick him. She kneed him straight to the crotch, and his grip from her hands loosened enough for her to slip free. Something sharp skimmed his side, leaving a blazing hot trail behind. She sprung to her feet and retreated few steps, eyes gleaming and licking her lips. She had found the knife she had been using earlier.

He stood up slowly. Red patch on the side of his white T-shirt. He tore the shirt away, flexing his back and neck until he heard a satisfactory crunch. Her eyes narrowed from the sight of him. Flawless skin rippling over well defined muscles. Dark, coarse hair covering his chest, traveling over his stomach and disappearing under the waistband of his jeans. Hint of blood on his skin from where she had cut him, superficial wound already healed over. He was holding back, and she knew it. She was going to make him loose it.

It was like some weird, twisted version of a dance. They were spiraling, skirting past each other, hands clasping momentarily before dealing hurt mingled with pleasure. They were both out of breath already. Soft rosy hue covered her whole body. He combed small strands of hair from his forehead back with his fingers. She wanted to tangle those strands around her fingers, but it wasn’t the time for that. Not yet.

They were both covered with sweat, and his blood. Small grains of sand clung on their skin. Moonlight reflected from those grains. White sand under their feet had crimson speckles on it. He felt little woozy from the blood loss, and shook his head to clear away the haze from his field of vision. She stood in front of him, in a loose and relaxed position, hand wielding the knife close to her own side like he had taught her. Ready to turn to any needed position, weapon poised to strike, yet covered so it wasn’t easy to unarm her. Animal in him was getting more frustrated and restless with every passing minute, screaming for release, but it wasn’t the time for that. Not yet.

His eyes had been hooded, almost soft. Now his gaze hardened. Muscles on his forearms shifted slightly. Hot metal tore its way out through his knuckles. He grimaced and shivered, lifting his right hand to his face, and licked slowly away small droplet of blood that had escaped to the dull edge of his claw. She screamed and charged at him, lifting the knife, readying to stab him. He caught her careless swing with his claws and small knife shattered to pieces, leaving her defenseless.

He lay on top of her, his body hard and demanding.
“I’m going to fuck you now. Any objections?” He asked, eyes glazing over. She tangled her hands to his mane of unruly hair and pulled him closer, licking his lips, tasting the salt from blood and sweat.
“No objections whatsoever,” she whispered and bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. He growled to her mouth and took her lips to a bruising kiss. Her hands trailed lower on his body, fumbling with his belt buckle, opening it. Cold claw traced the features of her face lightly. She stopped moving, and concentrated to the feeling it evoked in her. Slow, steady burn spread through her whole body, making her gasp and buck her hips against his. He hissed and threw his head back, jeans absolutely too snug. He lifted his hips and she popped open the buttons, pushing unyielding fabric over his buttocks and freeing his erection.

Her long legs wrapped around his waist. He could smell her arousal. His cock nudged against her slick folds and she closed her eyes. He growled softly.
“Open your eyes.” It wasn’t a plea, but it wasn’t a command either. When she opened her eyes he bared his throat. Felt her blunt teeth locking around it when he sunk deep in her hot core. Muscles in his arms relaxed, and claws slid back in with a silent hiss. She slipped them over with practiced ease, straddling him and squeezing his throbbing length with her inner muscles, moaning when it made him buck and sink even deeper. She rolled her hips, sliding him in and out with rapidly increasing pace, until they were both skating on the edge, sobbing and gasping for all too thin air.

“One day you’ll be the death of me, Marie… But before that I’m going to enjoy every moment,” Logan choked, hands locked to a vice-like grip over her hips. She leaned over him and planted a soft kiss to his lips, taking his hands and bringing them to her breasts. He pinched her nipples once. Hard. It was enough to bring her over. Her sharp cry and new kind of tightening pushed him over, and he came, eyes screwed tightly shut, whole body shuddering.

“Honey?” Logan huffed. They lay on a cold, concrete floor. Scenario had ended.
“Yeah?”
“Next time you want to, just ask. I can’t take that kind of beating every time you get horny,” Logan’s voice was weak, and his hand trembled a bit when he clasped it over hers. She smirked.
“Oh, but you loved it…”
“Guilty as charged.”