It was heavy in the air - sex. Thick, raw and moist. The smell was so overpowering that it stank. Reeked. Looking at the sticky floor, Logan growled.

He rarely came to this joint, but the need for relief from the pain of lost self, or to find at least some kind of comfort, was so great that he felt compelled to come here. Looking around the whorehouse Logan wasn't sure what he wanted. Then he saw her.

Sitting in the corner, swathed in leather and silk, looking fuck-all too innocent for this place, was a girl. She looked like she belonged in a world of frills and safety, pretty dresses and good places. A place where a girl didn't even know the word 'whore.' Normally he wanted quick and dirty. But tonight his taste suddenly went to pure and possibly wicked. Approaching the madam he pointed to the brown and silver haired beauty.

"Her."

"You sure? She's a mutant - can't touch her skin, it's deadly, but she's a virgin. And she costs extra."

"Whatever."

A quick nod, and a gesture from the madam to the girl, and she got up. The movement was hesitant; unsure. Grabbing one leather clad hand in his, he led her up to one of the rooms reserved for this kind of thing.

Logan pushed her towards the bed and she stumbled a little. Sitting down she looked down at the floor; waiting. Stripping off his shirts, tossing them on the nearby chair, Logan looked her over. Already he could feel his cock lengthening and hardening. She looked so ripe for the picking. Bending down he tugged off his shit-kickers. The sudden sound of his zipper being undone was thunderously loud in the confined room. Her head jerked up, impossibly large brown eyes widened to greater proportions.

The bright blush that suffused the girls cheeks when she saw his soaring erection, made him want to simultaneously fuck her until she couldn't walk, and hold her, cherish her forever. The darker side of him though wanted to defile her. The side that was hurting and wanted to lash out. It would be so easy; she was such a tiny thing. He promised himself he wouldn't go too far though. Not too far. Just enough. Enough to break himself. Enough to punish her for being so good, and enough to punish himself for not ever being enough.

The sound broke him of his reverie. "What?" he snapped.

"You'll need gloves." A little louder this time.

Raising his eyebrow, he pinned her with a stare, willing her to look at him when she talked. When she didn't meet his gaze, didn't raise her eyes to look at him he grunted out, "Fair 'nough."

The girl moved around, reaching into a drawer for a pair of black leather gloves. Holding them out to him, she waited.

"Bring 'em to me girl."

Rising slowly, eyes firmly locked on the floor, she approached him. "Look at me." Her face rose just enough so her eyes could dart up to glance at his face, then back down to the floor. "Look at me, girl." This time her head rose more, much more, almost defiantly. Locking her eyes onto his he felt as though all the wind had been knocked out of his body.

The eyes he'd thought frightened were blazing. Scalding hot, and instead of the mellow chocolate he'd first assumed they were, were actually a boiling blistering coffee.

Ripping the gloves from her hand, he shoved his hands into them. Hands now encased in leather, he grabbed her by the back of her neck. Dominance flared up, he -would- punish her for looking so glorious and unafraid. He was one to be feared. To be hated. And he'd show her that.

Pushing her down to her knees, he reached into his back pocket - his pants open at the front, jutting penis almost in the girl's face. Tearing the foil open, he sheathed himself. Taking a deep breath, he wanted to smell her fear, so that he could hurt, so that he could make his dark heart bleed. Maybe to make himself able to withstand - eventually - the pain of his existence, or just to lash out at himself to possibly atone for the things he was going to do to her.

What he smelled was something he was unprepared for. Just a clean good scent. Tinged with nervousness, but no fear. Spiked with anger, but not hate. Hate had a smell and he was used to it. He breathed it in every time he took air into his lungs. He could always catch that when he caught his own smell in the air. She wasn't afraid. And that made him scared. It meant he wouldn't stop until she was. Until he could make himself hurt because he was hurting her.

Forcefully he yanked the long waves of her hair, pulling her to his hard length, other hand on her jaw, but before he could force her mouth open she did so willingly. Thrusting himself between the plump lips, he met with the resistance of her gag reflex. But she didn't jerk back; it was like she had nerves of steel.

Pulling his hips back, he thrust forward again - this time making her choke a little.

Words tore themselves from his throat - he didn't like talking during sex, but he was helpless against the tide dragging him out to sea, he couldn't stop the words from coming forth.

"God baby - uh. Yeah. You know how to suck it." Each word was punctuated by another thrust, and when he felt her hands creeping up to his hips he thought she was going to try and make him stop. She didn't though. Maybe it was just to keep her balance as he fucked her mouth. He couldn't place his finger on -why- she was accepting the desecration he was so willing to give. She didn't seem the type to go for punishment.

His eyes locked on her mouth, engulfing him each time, and he could feel her throat starting to relax, so that with each new lunge he sank alittle deeper into her.

"Holy chriiist. Suck me. C'mon bitch. Do it. Go on girl - take me deep. Fuck yeah. Uhhn."

Logan was going to cum, and he wished he could do it in her mouth - make her swallow - but the heat was radiating up his spine, and as he came he had himself so deep down her throat that her nose was buried in his dark wiry hair.

He untangled one of his hands from her hair, so he could hold the condom in place as he pulled out of her mouth. Tossing the used rubber on the floor - he didn't care, the cleaning crew would get it later - he looked down at her. On her knees, head bowed, and shuddering, her scent still didn't register fear. Not even disgust.

Pulling her chin up so he could look at her face, again he was met with those burning eyes. Lips so swollen from his invasion, it gave the illusion of arousal. Pushing her so that she sprawled backwards, catching herself only at the last minute on her hands, he stalked - albeit a little awkwardly with his pants starting to slip down his narrow hips since they were open - over to the chair by the bed.

He watched her collect herself, adjust those beautiful painted on leather clad legs into an indian style position. The stirrings of his ever-unflagging arousal came to the fore as he again was pinned by her eyes.

"Watch me and crawl to me."

Reaching for his now back to full mast erection in his gloved hand, he started to pump his hand up and down his shaft. To his surprise - this girl was so full of them, he didn't know why he was still shocked - she did as he said and started to crawl towards him. Stalking him like a cat. Eyes still locked on his; she stopped when she reached his feet.

"Touch me."

Small, gloved fingers wrapped uncertainly around his base, then slid up. Gently. Very gently.

"Harder."

Logan commanded, and she complied, all the while her eyes blazing. Everything he told her to do, she did. Finally he told her to rub the head of his cock, and to squeeze hard, then he grabbed her hand, jerking their hands up and down rapidly. His free hand pulled her closer so he could ejaculate on her in thick creamy strands. His cum now splattered on her silk and leather bodice, smeared on her face and it was too much. Taking her by her shoulders, bringing her up to stand he let his hands roam her body freely. Smoothing her hair out of her face with a hand, moving to cup her face he breathed her in, smelling himself on her.

"Push my pants down."

The oft times too tight denim pooled at his feet. Stepping free of them he picked her up, carrying her like a groom did his bride, like a father carrying his child, to the bed. The tenderness he let himself exhibit made her scent fill with surprise. Well at least he'd been able to make that far too innocent perfume, shift.

Now he intended to make it change even more. He'd make her want it - want him. Then… he'd make her hurt. Some, he reminded himself, not too much. Some. The word chanted across his psyche for a few moments as he ran his hands over her body. Tracing the swell of a breast. The soft place of her stomach, he rubbed there gently. Down her legs, all the while feeling strong muscle under the softness of her body, beneath the buttersoft leather.

Her eyes were wide with surprise as he touched her so gently. Slowly he unlaced the leather and silk corset she wore, and when she didn't try to warn him about her skin again, he continued. Breasts freed from the tight confine of the bodice; he saw how lusciously full they really were as they strained against the silk shirt she wore. Cupping an orb in his hand, pinching the nipple, causing her to moan for the first time under his ministrations. Holding back a smirk, he placed openmouthed kisses in a path to her waistband. Gradually her scent thickened with desire as he pressed his mouth against her leather-covered mound and his fingers worked at opening her pants.

Sliding gloved hands underneath the waistband and bringing them down, down those legs, down and down. He wasn't surprised to see something sheer and black covering her skin - besides how else would she be expected to do her job, with skin like that? Now clad in that bodystocking, and her silk shirt, the smell of her assaulted his senses.

Stroking a leather clad digit into the convenient slit in the bodystocking; he met with light resistance as he pushed a finger inside of her. A gasp fell from her bowed lips, and she spread her legs farther as he watched her start to thrash and shake as he slowly built up speed. Adding a second finger, he dropped his mouth to just above where the sheath would still protect him from her skin. Sucking on the pearl at her apex, fingers pumping inside her, his free hand on her stomach, pushing down so he could hold her in place and in just a few moments she came. A short keen as her body locked in place, back arching, mound pressed tight to his mouth, and then she flopped back down, shaking.

Licking her essence from his lips, then his fingers, while the girl wasn't looking, he forced himself to calm down. She was making him want to do that to her again - to make her want him, always want him, but only with soft touches, gentle touches. Logan though knew he'd have to be a fool of titanic proportions though if he could even -think- about her actually wanting him. No, he could make her crave him for a night or two, but why try for that when she'd reject him once she realized that he'd never be enough? So he'd go ahead and take what he could from her. A little bit of lust, and punishment for her body to make his black heart feel something real and true, or at least the only things it -could- feel. Despair. Cruelty. Self-loathing. Those were the coin he used to purchase some kind of atonement for his failings.

And since physical flagellation never left scars on his body, he was left with scars on his heart. Those would never heal.

When he shook himself out of his reverie, the girl was watching him with something akin to curiosity instead of those blazing eyes. She was propped up on her elbows, head cocked to the side as though she were assessing him and his motives. Nodding to herself she sat up fully, and slid to the floor joining him on the hard wood slats. Removing her shirt she ripped it in half, and he couldn't figure out what she was doing, until she brought a piece of it up to his face, covering his mouth. Leaning up to him she kissed him almost chastely, so sweetly. It tore at his heart, the pain of her giving him something so simple as a kiss, like he was worth it, almost enough to break him.

An appreciative growl rumbled in his chest, the animal within him rising. The monster inside him, the Wolverine, could smell her innocence, and saw her kissing him like that, as submitting to him. That hidden part of Logan, the one that made him hate himself with a passion and unrivaled zeal, had most likely made him pick that girl for just this reason. Logan fought it for a moment, the combined lust of the Wolverine and his own made his mind foggy, and unclear.

When he pinned the girl with his eyes, he knew that she could see everything that was behind them, and her own widened in surprise. And the one thing that could drive what little restraint he had left far away, was fear; and her scent contained more than a tinge of it. A snarl tore itself from his throat as he grabbed her wrists, yanking her to him so hard that her head snapped back.

"You afraid of me girl?" he growled, voice low and unforgiving.

She blinked at him for a moment, and for some reason, though the fear didn't leave her scent, it didn't gain in proportions. Her eyes just stayed a mellow chocolate - something that was still a drastic change from the scalding heat she'd looked at him with before.

"Yes and no," she whispered, voice full of thick, sweet molasses.

"You should be. You will be."

Turning her around quickly, ass up in the air, his hand reached for the convenient box of condoms near the bed. Pushing her so that her upper body lay flat on the bed, he slid a leg between hers, spreading her farther. Thrusting four fingers into her cunt, hard, making her gasp in pain because she wasn't ready for that, wasn't even ready for three, he leaned over her so she could feel his rock hard penis rubbing against her buttocks.

Teeth sank into her shoulder, hard enough to draw blood and a pained moan from her. A part of him definitely liked the smell of her suffering and her blood. Another was sickened by it. But both sides wanted her to hurt, one because he wanted her to feel his pain, and one wanted to lash out.

Fucking her hard with his hand until she was loose enough to take his girth, then withdrawing his hand, licking them clean he growled in her ear. "You taste so fuckin' pure. I'm gonna change that real fuckin' quick."

Pulling back enough so that he could plunge his massive cock into her waiting wetness, an arm pinning her down hard, her head turned to the side and he could see her wincing from the invasion. When he tore through her virginity she screamed and he growled. Setting up a rhythm that continually forced him deeper into her, their movements counterpointed by the occasional snarl or pained moan.

Riding her hard, body bent over her back, hips slamming into hers, Logan lifted his head enough to put his lips near the small shell of her ear. "You scared yet?" he whispered in her ear, thrusting particularly viscously with each word.

When she shook her head, the animal in him roared. Grabbing her hips brutally, he shifted their position so she was on the floor, his gloved hand holding her face down into the bare boards. Pulling himself out of her, and angling his hips so that when he pushed forward it wasn't her pussy that he slipped into but that tiny and very delicate ring of muscles, he rammed himself home. This time with every one of his thrusts she screamed.

Despite the more than visible pain he was inflicting, her scent still only held a tinge of fear. But the smell of her blood, that which came naturally from the loss of her virginity and from the simple cruelty of his methods, made him dizzy. For a moment his thrusts slowed, and he slumped a little over her. And then he heard it.

"Please."

It was heartbroken and he didn't know what she was asking for. Maybe for him to stop, to finish, to - he didn't know. He just didn't know. Those thoughts fled though when his orgasm caught him unawares. Hunched over her body, he could feel the tremors shaking her small frame. In that moment he felt what he'd been looking for that night: pain.

When he withdrew from her, he could smell her tears. It was worse than anything else he'd ever felt. This was why he always picked the women who were hardened. The ones who were used up. Because as satisfying as it was for his need for someone else to fell his pain, to fuck them violently into oblivion, it was another thing entirely to steal innocence as cruelly as he just had.

And for one or two moments she had wanted him. Had kissed him gently. For that he repaid her by brutishly assaulting her. Looking at her bent form, his vision started to blur. Collapsing on his side, hand flung out on the dingy floor in her direction, he gave into tears of anguish and regret.

Minutes or hours later after he stopped he was on his back staring at the ceiling feeling every one of the scars on his heart. Logan could still smell the girl in the room, still just as far away from him as she had been earlier. He stayed like that for an eternity, waiting for her to get up and go. She didn't. And he didn't know why, and at this point he couldn't manage to think clearly enough as to what her reasons could be. His eyes closed and he knew no more for awhile, other than the continual replay of images from three years ago. Reminders that he'd never would be enough.

Waking up later he wondered why he was on a floor, underneath a blanket. Moving his head around to better assess the situation, he saw the girl sitting on the bed. Watching him.

The fact that she was sitting down, looking none the worse for wear, but for a few tears, confused him. By all rights after what he'd done to her she shouldn't be able to do that for some time, even with a doctor's aid. Forcing his vocal cords to work, he asked her "Are you alright?"

At her nod, he let his head sink back down to the unforgiving floor. When she knelt shakily next to him, brushing his hair out of his face, he flinched. He didn't deserve that from her. Not that soft sad look she was giving him. And definitely not the question that she asked him so tenderly.

"Are you OK too? You were out for a long time."

Turning his face away from her, and her questioning eyes, he grunted out an "M'OK."

When she laid her head on his chest, he was too shocked to move. "I won- I won't touch you with my skin again, I promise."

"What?"

"My skin. I touched you after…well after."

There was no need to ask her what 'after' meant. After he had defiled her, after he broke down in tears. But there was no doubt in his mind that he most certainly deserved whatever punishment she dealt him with her skin.

"I got your healing thing when I touched you," she sniffled.

He turned his head to look at her quickly. That explained why she looked like nothing had even happened to her.

"You smelled curious," her eyes darted away from him, then slid back to look at him. "I understand you know."

"Understand what?"

"Why."

"Why what?" sick suspicions started to bubble up, and he pushed them down quickly. Whatever he was thinking, couldn't be what was really going on.

"You're not what you think Logan," she murmured, petting his chest a few times.

At that he jerked away from her, scrabbling back like she was some kind of freak. And then he knew. Not just his healing factor, not just his senses…. She got something else from him. It was something that frightened him more than he ever thought he could be. She would know his weaknesses, his failings, and all about that dark side to him, that monster that he was underneath a thin veneer of a man.

She sat there calmly, eyes watching his every movement as he continued backing away from her, until he was wedged into a corner, where his legs failed him.

Reaching her hand out to him, she slowly moved towards him, in as non-threatening a manner as possible and her eyes starting to sparkle with fresh tears. When she was a few feet from him she kneeled, a tiny hand still held out to him. "Logan. What happened wasn't your fault. The government did that. The government first stole your life, and then stole your mind. The government took away your only friends. It wasn't you're -fault- Logan. It wasn't your fault you couldn't save Raven."

Logan shook as her last words reached his ears. Turning the thought over in his mind he knew, logically, that she was right. But he was scared. Because if he could take the blame, then it meant he would've had the power to change if. "If I was eno-"

"No. No one single man, could be enough against … what was it Logan? 10, 20 tanks? 200 seasoned soldiers?" her breath hitched as she said that, and he had never known the numbers, and how she knew them he didn't want to think about. "No. No one would be enough against that." The truth of it rankled. And it was something he'd known for the last three years - he just hadn't wanted to face it.

"You can prevent it from happening again though," she whispered, sypathetic eyes looking deep into him.

Logan's head snapped up, eyes wild. "Wha'd'ya mean?"

"I'm here for a reason." A sigh, and a gloved hand ran through her long hair while the other rubbed at her eyes. "This wasn't my first mission. We figured I was maybe something you'd be drawn to. And also… if worse came to worst…. I could take you out. Professor Xavier sent me. Wait!"

At the words 'mission', 'professor' and 'Xavier,' Logan had been ready to toss her aside, because it reeked of a few other words 'set' and 'up.' It all made senese now. Why she was here, looking fuck all too good, how she knew the figures, and what happened to him, and overall why she hadn't really been afraid most of the time. But her diminutive hand, the one to so gently stroke his hair from his face, to smooth over his chest, it held him in place more surely than any set of chains.

"This reeks of a set up, girl. Make it quick." The words were quiet, and unmistakably came forth not of his free will.

"Logan - the deal the Professor wants to make. It's not a bad one. We could use your help on the team." She was openly pleading with him now. "You could make a difference," her hands were held up in supplication.

"What? You want -me- to join that little mutie Justice Squad? * snort * I'm better off as I am. I ain't into all that do-gooder shit. And if you got me in yer head little girl - you should know that."

"I -do- know. But … I guess you could think of it like -"

"Like what?" turning around to face her, and sink down to her level, he pinned her with a stink eye that made grown men piss themselves in fear. She didn't even bat an eyelash. What made him think she would after her virtually fearless displays earlier - well those could be put down to her having been briefed about him.

"I would say like 'vengeance' but I don 't think the Professor would like me to put it that way." She looked at him, still with soulful eyes. Still soft. Maybe a little warmth in there for him, too. But he was sure he was fooling himself. The only person to ever look at him with warmth was Raven. "Purpose," she whispered, and that one word was what almost sold him. Almost.

"You almost had me there, girl. But no cigar. You got guts. Don't think it'll ever get ya anywhere but the grave, girl. And you don't wanna go there."

"We all die, even you. Well if the idea of revenge, or purpose won't make you consider the offer, what would?"

"Nuthin' I should be askin' for."

Her head cocked to the side, and a strand of her platinum hair fell over an eye. He couldn't help but reach for it, tucking it behind her ear. "Forgiveness?"

When he couldn't help flinching back at that word, he knew that she had hit the jackpot. And she pressed her advantage mercilessly.

"You want me to forgive you for what happened?"

He only grunted.

Her sudden sweet smile filled his world, but it made him angry. But for the sight of a smile like that, he was almost willing in that moment to take the bitter pill of her mockery. Getting up, starting to make his way again for his clothes - now neatly folded, the girl must've done it - her hand locked on his forearm with a strength he didn't think she could possess.

"Logan - don't be thick. You're an intelligent man. What makes you think you even need ask?" her eyes were so full of something he couldn't define. And it all seemed too quick, too good, for any of it to be true.

Rounding on her he yanked her to her feet, shaking her. "Don't fuck with me girl. Don't you fuckin' do that to me! I don't deserve any, and you don't want to give it! So stop fuckin' with my head goddamnit!"

Again her hand wrapped around his arm, but this time much more forcefully. Then he found himself on his back, on top of the bed, her straddling his waist. Her hair hung down around his face in a veil and he could smell her, so clean, so good, still covered in his scent.

"I'm not trying to mess with you Logan. Don't you realize I'd already forgiven you the moment I touched you? The moment I knew everything that happened? The moment I -felt- everything? It was so different feeling it from you, first hand, than the mission briefing," her face was still moist from her earlier shed tears, and it made her face sparkle.

"You can't mean that."

"Smell me. Do I mean it or not? You have a better lie detector than any telepath - yours can't be blocked. So. Do I mean it?"

A deep inhalation, and he knew. She already forgave him; it was all over her scent. But it was also colored with something else. Something that he didn't think she could ever feel, even if she -did- forgive him. Licking his lips as he looked up into her face, he let his gut do the deciding as he always had. Or at least he tried to - but his gut wasn't cooperating, because the rest of his body was responding to her perfume. To the mounting desire in her, as her body became more aware of their positions, his hardening cock trapped underneath her bottom. A blush rose in her cheeks.

Suddenly his own mood shifted, and he slid a hand up her back, and into her hair, he fought back a smirk, "So… I'm not too sure if you actually forgive me - uh? By the way, what the hell -is- your name? I can't keep on calling you 'girl'.'"

Her eyes were wide, she clearly wasn't sure if he was touched in the head because of his quick change in attitude, but she answered him willingly, "Marie."

Humming to himself, he started to pull her head down so he could kiss her. "WAIT!"

"What?" alarmed by the sudden fear in Marie's scent he thought it gave lie to all that she'd said just moments ago.

"My skin. Please. No. I don't want that. OK?"

She leaned half over the bed, behind up in the air, and he was distracted by what she was saying because of the view. When she turned around with something in her hand, he was still distracted; he hadn't really let himself look at her body in just that sheer material. God was the most breathtaking woman he'd ever seen.

For a few more minutes he sat gazing at her until he realized her hand was waving in front of his eyes, and it must really look odd from the outside, but she made his chest tighten - among other things - at the sight of her, clad in nothing but thin black silk. Shaking himself out of his trance completely, he realized what she was holding in her other hand. It was half of her silk shit. A small smile touched his lips as he took the proffered fabric, and then showed her what a real kiss was, while she showered him with her forgiveness.

---

Wind blew in his face, and warm arms were wrapped around his torso, as they cruised up the driveway of the X-Mansion. Parking at the side entrance, and dismounting, Logan took a good look at his surroundings. It looked like something out of a brochure with all its gardens and majestic buildings.

"Looks like this place belongs on the Lives of the Rich and Farty."

"Logan!"

"What? It does. It's like the mutie petting zoo. Or maybe more like Geeks Paradise."

The sound of approaching feet pulled him out of the pleasant teasing, and the scent on the wind was male.

"Rogue! You're back. God - are you alright? How'd the mission go? Did you obtain the target?"

The young man with glasses ignored Logan completely, until he growled at him.

"Oh. You must be the Wolverine then I, assume. From the reports I thought you'd be taller."

What was this guy, the Master of the Obvious? Perhaps the King of Tact? Or maybe the Monarch or Geek? And he'd have to live in a house with this ass? Ye gods, Marie better be willing to make it up to him. Regularly. Maybe even hourly, he thought with a combination of irritation as the guy - Cyclops, what kind of name was that anyway? - and glee at being able to make Marie scream his name more often than she thought she'd be doing that, guided them up the steps and into a new life.

The End.