There Are Limits

Logan walked up the stairs slowly. This session in the Danger Room had been the most challenging yet. He had to hand it to Scooter—the guy had definitely got a lock on the best way to sublimate his latent hostility. He didn’t have to fight Logan himself—he could just program machinery to do it for him.

Not that there was much hostility these days. Amusement, more like. Word had gotten around as to exactly when he and Marie had started spending so much time together, and under what circumstances, and the only reason Frenchy was still walking comfortably was because Logan didn’t really suspect him of being the one who’d talked.

Kitty and Jubilee were roommates, best friends, and neither of them could keep their mouths shut to save their lives. If he heard one more badly-muffled giggle as he walked out of a room—

It was sort of amusing, in all fairness. He’d been determined to do this right, and ‘right’ to him meant giving Marie all the time she needed to get comfortable with her control before, well…

There were euphemisms he just wasn’t willing to use, even mentally. She’d gotten better with the control every day, and every night she spent curled up next to him, safely wrapped up in his sheets, it got harder and harder not to rip them off and show her a few new games to play. So there had been some long nights for him, lately. And long days, with her spending every possible moment testing her limits. And his.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to, he knew that. And it wasn’t like she hadn’t been incredibly inventive and enthusiastic with everything they had done, but…

He paused in front of the door, and grinned to himself. Marie was back early from wherever she’d slipped off to earlier with a naughty smile and a long kiss—she could manage kissing now just fine, and a lot more besides—so he opened the door. And froze.

Marie was standing by the bed. And he didn’t need enhanced senses to know that everything she was wearing came straight out of Jubilee’s closet.

She wore black boots with a higher heel than he’d ever seen on her. Black stockings, and the boots were high enough that the only reason he could see the stockings was that the scrap of leather that passed for a skirt was ungodly short. A black bustier that lifted and presented her breasts to his gaze like two succulent peaches. And black leather gloves, up to her elbows.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, it occurred to him that it was sort of insane to be jealous of inanimate objects.

Her hair was up in a twist, just the two platinum streaks loose around her face. And her mouth was curved in a wicked smile.

“C’mon in, sugar. Shut the door.”

Right. Inside. Door, shut. Good. He could still follow directions, even if his brain didn’t appear to be working any more. She came over to him—that was good, too—and took his gym bag off his shoulder, setting it down on the floor. The she put her hands flat against his chest and looked up at him through her eyelashes.

“We gotta talk, Logan.”

Talk. No, talking was bad. He reached for her, but she grabbed his hands away from her waist and held onto them.

“See, I appreciate all this sweet-n-gentle stuff you’ve been doing, and I like it, I really do. But I know Wolverine is still in there somewhere, and I like him too. And I figured he was probably getting a little bored.” She slid one hand lower, down to his waist. “So I thought, it’s been a while, and I can wait till he finally busts loose, or…” She slid her fingers under his sweatshirt, against the taut muscles of his stomach, and he took a shaky breath. “We could try some shock therapy.” Her fingers dug in a little. “Thought it might be faster.” Then she popped the top button of his jeans.

Shock. Yeah. Also good.

“What do you think?” Her fingers played with the waistband of his jeans. “Good plan?”

If there was a plan, he’d missed the meeting. “Tell me what you want,” he demanded.

“Take off the shirt, sugar. I wanna see some skin.”

Logan reached up and dragged the sweatshirt off over his head in one motion. Marie laughed softly and ran her leather-covered fingers up his chest. His body twitched and he closed his eyes, fighting for control. Christ, she knew what she was doing now. She’d certainly had enough practice.

Then she leaned in and her tongue darted out over one nipple, no longer hesitant and exploring but with definite intent. He made a strangled sound and clenched his fists. He felt her sigh, and her breath over that sensitized nub sent chills down his spine.

“Not yet, huh?” She gave him a gentle push back and he bumped into something behind him—the chair by the desk. He held onto it as she continued exploring his torso with her hands and tongue.

“Mmm. You taste so good, baby.” She bit his shoulder, not too hard, but hard enough to sting. “I could just eat you up with a spoon.” Her tongue teased his neck and he shuddered. “You enjoying this as much as I am?”

He nodded, surprised he still had that much muscular control. He felt her breath tickling his ear.

“I can do this,” she whispered. “You know I can.” Then she reached down and undid the second button of his fly. Her fingers raked through the hair that grew thicker there and he actually whimpered.

She could do whatever she wanted, as far as he was concerned. It was what he might do that was worrying him. Not that abstract thought was high on his agenda at the moment.

“These have just got to go.” God, he hoped she was talking about his jeans, but instead she raised her hand to her mouth and tugged at the fingers of one glove with her teeth, loosening it enough for her to pull it off and toss it onto the desk behind them. She peeled off the second glove, watching him all the time from under those long lashes.

He didn’t know the name of this game, but he didn’t much care, either.

She put her newly-bared hands on his face and pulled his head down to hers for a long, hard kiss. Then she worked her way down his jaw, down his neck, using her lips and tongue and teeth, whipping his nerves into wild attention. Her mouth fastened over the spot where the muscles of his neck slid into his shoulder and he thought he might explode from the intensity of the sensation.

Her hand slid down and released the third button, and now her nails scraped over the base of his shaft, which was straining for release. She giggled a little when his head dropped back.

“Oh, you’re tough.” He had no idea what she was talking about, but now she was teasing him with her fingertips and he couldn’t give much thought to it. She shifted her weight suddenly, raised her leg and brought it around him. He felt her body pressed against him and realized she had set her foot on the chair behind him.

“You like my boots, sugar?” She was deliberately emphasizing her Southern drawl.

“Yeah.” Somehow he managed a single word without his voice cracking. Fuck-me boots, definitely good.

“I like ‘em too. But you know the one problem with them?” Her breath tickled his ear. “Know what that is?” He shook his head. “Can’t kneel down in ‘em.”

Oh, holy fuckin’ shit. The next thing he heard was the scrape of the zipper running down her leg—a long, long zipper—and she kicked away the boot and stepped down. Then she bent over, extending the remaining boot, and slid that zipper down as well. The tiny leather skirt rode up and revealed that the stockings she wore were held up with garters. Also that she wasn’t wearing underwear. His hands tightened on the back of the chair.

“Careful there.” Her hands were back on his body now—that was good—and her hot mouth was against his neck again. “Don’t want to break the furniture.” Her hand moved down to release another button and this time he moved his hips forward, against her hand, demanding further release. She pressed her palm down over him and he groaned with the pressure.

“You’re bein’ so good,” she purred, and now her lips began to trail down his chest. “I’m gonna take such good care of you.” She pressed her lips to his belly, and he felt her hand move to his fly again. She timed it perfectly. One more button, and his straining cock burst free, only to be captured in the wet warmth of her mouth. She dropped to her knees before him, taking more of him into her mouth, her hands pushing his jeans down his thighs.

She was a fast learner. Her touch, wanton and demanding, was also filled with a tenderness he’d never associated with this act, before her. He closed his eyes and gave himself over to the sensation of her tongue working against his shaft, teasing and insistent. One small hand was splayed against his stomach; the other, tangled in the denim of his jeans, freed itself and moved up to close over him.

She knew what touch could do to him now, and there was no hesitation whatever. His breath hissed out as her tongue swirled around him, eliciting the reaction she wanted. He was on the edge again, she had him on the edge and she knew it, and she eased her touch, keeping him there, stretching out the exquisite agony.

He had to touch her. He detached one hand from his lifeline, the chair, and brought it around, burying his fingers in her hair. She moaned at his touch, and the vibration of her voice sent him over, wildly out of control. And she took him even deeper, her hand tightening around his scrotum, sucking in every inch of him. Not until his frantic thrusts stilled and his shaking hand fell away from her head did she slowly let him slide through her lips. He felt her swallow, felt her tongue dart out as he slipped free, running over the head of his cock, tasting every last drop of his essence.

She stood up, her hands warm against his hips and sides before she let go to turn the chair around behind him. Another gentle push and he was seated, his head still spinning. Then she was on his lap, straddling his body, and he realized she’d taken off that excuse for a skirt. She wore only the bustier and her garters and stockings and he could feel her warmth and wetness against his momentarily sated shaft.

Fuck control. He caught her in his arms, pulling her closer, pressing his face into the soft valley between her breasts, and she held his head against her, moaning with pleasure. He opened his mouth, nipping at the soft flesh, and she threw her head back, pressing herself into his suddenly rejuvenated erection.

“I love a man with a healing factor,” she said, and he growled, gripping the back of the tight black bustier. It had become the enemy, keeping his hands from her body, and she squirmed against him. “Laces…”

“What?”

“Cut the laces. But watch the cloth, okay? I gotta give it back to Jubes.”

“Fuck it. I’ll buy her a new one.” But he sliced the laces with one half-extended claw; safer that way, and besides, if he shredded it, she couldn’t wear it again. The bustier came loose and he stripped it off her, immediately clutching at her released breasts. He felt her rise up, reaching down to take his hardened shaft in her hand, rubbing it against her. “Jesus—Marie—“

“I want you,” she whispered huskily. “All of you.”

Somehow—he wasn’t sure how, with his jeans still halfway down his legs—he stood up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he got her the six feet across the room to the bed. He dropped her on her back, kicked off the jeans and his sneakers, and knelt over her. She moved seductively and lifted one long leg, still encased in its sheer black stocking, and wrapped it around his hip. “Now, Logan.”

He wanted to take more time, but at that demand he parted her legs and drove into her. She gasped as he entered her, but if it hurt her she covered it too quickly for him to tell. Her head fell back as his full length slid into her and jesus, she was so hot and slick—

He caught her wrists in his hands and pinned them down at her shoulders, running his tongue up her neck as he did so. “This what you want, little girl?”

“Oh yeah.” She tried to free one hand, but he held on, staring down at her for a long moment. Then he shifted his weight and stroked in and out of her, slowly. Her mouth opened on a silent cry.

“How’s the control?” Her eyes were heavy-lidded as he moved within her. “Baby—“

“I’m fine. Don’t stop.” Her answer came on two shaky exhalations; then she twisted her arms under his hands and raised her hips against his. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he said, and she nodded. He shifted so that he held both her hands in one of his, over her head, and put the other hand on her face, running a finger over her lips. She opened her mouth and he slid one finger inside; her tongue curled around his finger. “That’s one talented mouth,” he growled at her, and moved his finger away so he could lift her head by the back of her neck and kiss her. She squirmed under him, but he didn’t let her go, just continued his slow strokes as he plundered her mouth with his own. He let her head down slowly, without ending the kiss, and brought his free hand down to her breast. He felt her gasp into his mouth and he smiled.

Marie bucked against him again, urging him to go faster, and he moved his hand lower, between their bodies, reaching for her most sensitive spot. She bit his lower lip as he found her clit and his thumb began to move in slow circles over her, hard enough that he tasted blood for a second before the cut closed up.

“Careful, baby. Not nice to tease the Wolverine.”

“I ain’t…scared of you. And I’m not teasing,” she managed, and he was impressed; he hadn’t been half that coherent a few minutes ago.

“Yeah?” He dropped the act for just a second. “Good.” He leaned in to kiss her again, gentle this time, and saw her eyes change in response. “Love you,” he told her.

“Logan…” Her eyes glistened. “I love you so much.” He let her hands go and she reached up to stroke his face. “I just wanted you to know you don’t have to be so careful with me.”

“Point taken, darlin’.” He bent his head to her neck and nipped at her skin again; she laughed. “Now hold on, baby. I gotta finish what you started.” He thrust deeper as he finished the sentence and was rewarded with a long, drawn-out sigh of ecstasy. She clutched his shoulders as his hips and fingers moved more quickly, bringing her back to the brink. He felt her muscles clench around him and her nails scraped his shoulders as she came closer to her release.

He slowed the rhythm a little, taking a moment to take in the way she looked, head thrown back and eyes half-closed, wanting to remember every detail. She tightened her arms around his neck and he leaned in to run his tongue into her ear. “Tell me what you feel.”

“Just you. In me. Oh, god—“ He thrust deeper and she caught her breath.

“That’s good. That’s all I want you thinking about.” He claimed her mouth again, slid his hand away from her clit to bring her hips up against him even harder, and her leg tightened around his back. “You want more?” She just nodded. “You got it. I want to see you come for me.” But he slowed his strokes even more, making her thrust up against him to achieve the contact she wanted, and he bent his head to her breast and captured one dusky pink nipple in his mouth as she arched under him.

Marie’s expression was caught between pleasure and pain, and he could feel the muscles of her thighs tense as she tried to obey that command, but his hand on her hips controlled the force of her thrusts against him, and he wouldn’t let her, not quite yet. He felt her nails digging into him in frustration and her head twisted on the pillow. Then one hand came up to grip his hair, make him raise his head from her breast.

“Harder.” Her eyes were glittering at him. “Please.”

Yeah, that was what he’d wanted. He kept his eyes locked on hers and held her hips still as he pulled back, almost all the way out of her. Her grip on his hair increased.

“No,” she moaned. “”Please—“ And then he plunged into her, hard and fast, and let his hand slide back in between them, flicking over her sex, no longer teasing but demanding. Marie kept talking, in little moaning pants, but if she was saying anything intelligible he didn’t have the focus to make it out.

It didn’t matter. He could feel her tightening around him and that wet, slick heat was driving him wild. He pressed the heel of his hand down over her and thrust deeply one more time; the combination sent her over the edge. She screamed something that might have been his name as she came and he followed her two strokes later.

He barely kept himself from collapsing on top of her, catching his weight on his forearms. “Marie…” He pressed his lips against her forehead, her cheeks, tasting the light sheen of sweat that glistened there. “You all right?”

“Yeah.” She looked a little dazed, and he held still for a second, watching her intently. Then she moved the leg that was still wrapped around his and pulled him even closer. “That all you got?”

“Christ…all right, you asked for it.” He slid out of her and she gave a whimper of disappointment, but he reached back and seized her ankle, bringing her leg around and over, flipping her onto her stomach. He ran his hands up her hips to her sides, massaging the deep muscles at the small of her back. Then he pulled back, a little roughly, bringing her up to her knees. “Hold still.”

Marie caught at a pillow and buried her face in it as he ran his fingers up the backs of her legs, over the stockings, then between them to push her legs further apart. He leaned forward to nip at the smooth curve of her ass, and then she gave a muffled shriek as his tongue slipped between her buttocks. Logan gave a gentle swat to one long flank.

“Quiet.” She hid her face in the pillow again as he ran his tongue up her spine until he reached her neck. Her hair had worked loose from the ponytail she’d had it drawn back in and he brushed it away, gathering the dampened strands in his hand. He teased the nape of her neck with his lips for a moment and felt her shiver.

She didn’t know what he was going to do. She couldn’t even see him, and it didn’t matter—it didn’t seem like she’d given a second thought to her control. “So you’re tired of me bein’ nice?” He tugged on her hair to make her raise her head. “You think you can handle it if I let loose?”

He saw her tongue dart out to run over her lips. “Try me.”

“Okay.” He let her hair slide through his fingers and nuzzled at her neck for a long moment, pressing his whole body against her, and she arched up against him like a little cat. “God, Marie—“ She was squirming against his erection, caught between her legs, and he didn’t need any further invitation.

Logan rose back to his knees and took his cock in one hand, stroking idly as he found the opening of her sex with the other. She shifted a little, spreading her knees wider for him, and she turned her head to look back over her shoulder at him, her eyes dark with desire and anticipation.

He loved that she didn’t look away as he played with her, that she seemed to be enjoying the carnal display he was presenting. He slid one finger into her and heard her hiss in a breath, but she still didn’t look away. Until he moved his hand away and entered her in one smooth thrust; then her head fell forward and she pressed back against him.

He didn’t waste time. He might have a healing factor, but she didn’t, and she was probably going to be sore as it was. Besides, he had no interest in drawing things out, not this time. He seized her hips, slamming her back against him as he thrust into her, and the reached forward to take her arms and jerk her body up and against his, bringing her down onto his erection and wrapping one arm around her waist to hold her there as his other hand went to her breasts. She lifted her arms and held onto his shoulders, gaining the leverage she needed to ride him even harder as he toyed with one tight peak.

She was so tight and hot, and he felt like she was sucking the life out of him in an entirely different way, one that had nothing to do with her mutation. He fastened his mouth over the back of her neck, and then she cried out as he bit down as he came, holding her hard around the waist as he drove into her as deeply as he could, wanting only to lose himself in her. His climax this time was overwhelming, abandoned; it was as though every nerve was focused directly into that connection between them.

When he could see again, her head had fallen back against his shoulder and she was kissing his neck and jaw; her hands had come up to run through his hair. Logan sank down to his knees, slipping out of her, and she turned around to bring her lips to his. He slid his hands up her back to her shoulders and supported her as he lay her back down; remaining upright was just out of the question. “That was fuckin’ incredible.”

“Mmm…” She purred out a response. “I love that I can do that to you. I want to feel you get crazy, lose control…” She stretched under him, languorous and sated, and wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I like the garters. They help.”

“You don’t need a costume to do that,” he said, and leaned in for another kiss. “Not that I’m complainin’.” He rolled to one side; it was tiring holding up his weight, and he couldn’t let himself down on her, not with a hundred pounds of metal in his skeleton. But he kept his arm around her waist, keeping her pulled up against him. She nestled her head against his shoulder.

“No, I mean with my control. I can feel them, and it’s something else to notice, while you’re…” She sighed and trailed her fingers over his chest.

Okay, if she could keep it under control through that…His hand wandered lower, over the garter belt she still wore and down and over the curve of her ass; his fingers toyed with the lacy garment. “Where the hell does that friend of yours shop?” he asked suddenly.

Marie laughed. “Online, I think. Why?”

“Just wondering.” He grinned wolfishly. “Since you like getting dressed up.”

“I like getting’ undressed better.” She rolled onto her stomach and he squeezed her bottom playfully. “So much for my good-girl reputation, huh?”

“I don’t know about that.” He ran one finger up the long ridge of her spine and she shivered. “There’s all kinds of ‘good’.”

She lifted her head and bared her teeth at him in an expression that was half-fierce, half-amused. “And you know what I hear?”

“What?”

“It gets better.”

Finis