Rogue moved quietly, her bare feet padding silently on the wooden floor. It was early in the evening-after dinner, when most of the inhabitants of the mansion had retired to their private rooms. She enjoyed this time of the day. Aside from muted sounds coming from various rooms, the mansion was quiet, and more importantly, the halls were deserted.

She had gained control over her powers a month ago, but the students of Xaxier’s had yet to get  used to the fact that they didn’t need to fear her anymore. Out of shear habit, they continued back away when she stepped toward them, and flinched at her sudden gestures. Rogue knew she shouldn’t mind her peers. After all, they would eventually stop.

And it wasn’t as if everyone had had trouble adjusting to her new control. Jubilee had no qualms whatsoever; upon hearing the news she had tackled Rogue in a back-breaking hug that knocked both of them to the floor. Rogue had delighted in such affection, having been starved for it for so long. Giggling, they had pulled themselves up off the floor to find Logan standing in the doorway, eyebrow characteristically raised. She stepped forward, half hoping that now, after years  of friendship, fleeting glances, and growing flirtations and innuendos, she would finally be able to touch the man who had come to mean so much to her. As she told him the good news, Logan’s face was impossible to read. Rogue remembered how she had thought she had seen a spark of happiness, but it had quickly been covered up by a mask of stone. Looking as if he was desperately trying to hold something in, Logan had walked forward to meet her where she stood. Ignoring the other girl in the room, he had stared intensely at Rogue. He began to tentatively bring his hand upwards, towards the pale, smooth skin of her cheek. Unable to resist, she had leaned into it, savoring their first unadulterated contact. She allowed him to stroke her face, his thumb moving over her cheek bone. Beginning to drown, her eyes had fluttered shut as he gently brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and she sighed audibly as his fingers trailed down from behind her ear to under her chin.

And in that instant, his touch was gone. Rogue’s eyes had flown open at the sudden lack of contact between them. She remembered Logan looking awfully conflicted and, it seemed to her, a little guilty. She opened her mouth to speak to him, but he stopped her.

“I, uh, I was just coming in here to let you know that I’m, uh,” he was stuttering. Rogue could hardly believe what she was hearing. Logan had always been so comfortable around her and yet he suddenly seemed so nervous. “I’m gonna be going to Canada for a little, I think,” he finished.

“Canada?” she asked, surprised. He still made the occasional trip to visit his old stomping grounds, but this was the first she’d heard of this particular voyage. He usually took her out to dinner or planned something special for the two of them the night before he left.

“Uh, yeah. Last minute. I’ll see ya when I get home, Marie.” With that he had stomped out of the room.

A month had passed since that afternoon. And all the while Rogue had wondered where Logan was and why he had left so suddenly. She had thought that after all this time, he would have been one to relish her new-found control.

Rogue now stopped in at the end of the hallway; she had reached her destination: his room. She knew she was always welcome to go in, even when he wasn’t around. For the past few weeks she had been taking refuge in Logan’s room during the evenings. Sometimes she would read, but occasionally she would just sit and think about Logan: where he might be; what he might be doing; and what chances were that he was thinking about her.

She entered the room and closed the door behind her before walking over to sit down in his favorite chair. It was made of wood and leather, and despite its slightly utilitarian appearance, it was very comfy. Rogue snuggled down, pausing to sniff at the leather of the seat. He had been gone a month, and it still smelled vaguely of cigars and that indefinable scent that was Logan.

Rogue sighed and opened her book to recommence reading her latest assignment for her college correspondence class: Hamlet.

She soon found herself quietly reading out loud-she found it kept her from reading too fast and missing anything.

“Act three, scene two,” she murmured and began reading the set up for the famous play-within-a-play.

“Hamlet: Lady, shall I lie in your lap?

Ophelia: No, my lord.

Hamlet: I mean, my head upon your lap?

Ophelia: Ay, my lord.

Hamlet: Do you think I meant country matters?”  Rogue paused, her brow furrowed, and reread the last few lines.

“Country matters… oh, my,” she giggled. It was exactly the kind of thing Logan would say to her, had they been born a few hundred years ago. She read on.

“Ophelia: I think nothing, my lord.

Hamlet: That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.

Ophelia: What is, my lord?

Hamlet: Nothing.” Rogue sighed again and put down her book. This was sounding just too familiar. When she had been younger, Logan had easily played the “Papa Bear” role. He was overprotective, but she knew it was because he cared deeply for her, and the two of them had formed a affectionate bond. But as the years had passed, she began to notice their relationship changing. When she was 17, he would chastise her for wearing skirts he thought were too short. She would argue that she was wearing leggings or tights, and therefore was not a threat to anyone, but he would only growl and tell her that wasn’t the point. But a few years later, she had come to see him wearing a skirt that was just as short, and instead of chastising her, he had given her a long look, and then growled low, rumbling that her legs were “toooo long,” before looking away and clearing his throat.

And it wasn’t just his commentary on her clothes. Whereas before he would try to watch his language around her, he now apparently felt comfortable enough to cut loose. At first Rogue had just chalked it up to his accepting that she was no longer a child, but when his remarks turned more flirtatious, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else afoot.

She thought back a month to the night before he had left for Canada, the night before she had completely nailed her “off-switch.” They had been hanging out in the kitchen, enjoying some late night beers, when a younger student, a girl about 12, had stumbled in complaining of a nightmare. Rogue had comforted her and sent her to bed with some milk.

She then turned to Logan. “Remember,” she said smiling, “When I would come to you with my nightmares, and you would hold me until I fell asleep?” It had been a few years since such things had happened.

Logan pulled on his beer. “Yeah, I remember.”

“It was nice, you know, sleeping next to you. A real comfort,” she laughed and continued, “Maybe we’ll have to start that up again.”

Logan grinned rakishly. “Well, darlin’, you’re welcome anytime you like, but I gotta warn you: you come to my bed in the middle of the night now, and you won’t be getting much sleep.”

“Logan!” she had giggled and swatted at him playfully. He responded by simply shrugging his shoulders and taking another swig.

That night was par for the course with the two of them. Who could blame me for thinking that something could actually happen between us now that I can touch, she now thought ruefully.

Her thoughts turned to a month-old memory of the two of them out for a run. Logan had pushed her-he always did-but perhaps a bit too hard this time. On the lawn of the mansion, upon their return, she had found herself at the mercy of some wracking calve cramps.  He had had her lie down and had proceeded to massage her legs up through her ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. Rogue's heart began to pump a little harder at the mere memory of his strong hands kneading and massaging her upper legs through her leggings, so close to  where she desperately wanted him to touch.

She had ached for him to touch her in that most sensitive region that afternoon, and this evening the ache had returned. She could barely help herself. Putting her book down, she allowed her own hands to trail up her thighs, which no longer needed any leggings. Her hands slipped under her nightdress and into her underwear where they began to rub and play with herself.

She imagined what it would be like to feel Logan’s hands on her instead of her own. She wondered how he would touch her; would he be gentle? Or would he take her like he took everything else: with the rough, demanding force that had earned him his reputation. She had only seen him act in the latter through his memories. She knew that he went down on women. She wondered if she would ever look down and see him nestled between her legs, licking and sucking her, bringing her closer and closer to the edge…

Rogue could feel herself growing wetter at the idea and continued, letting her imagination run: thoughts of Logan and her together, twisted up in sweat soaked bed sheets, writhing and moaning and thrusting and so many touches-touches she had been waiting years for…

She moaned softly as she felt herself getting closer to release. Her mind flickered from one sensation, one stimulation to another. His hands on her breasts; feeling his body glide on top of hers; seeing his face for the first time when pleasure over took him; his lips on hers; his hips on hers;  the frantic, deep thrusting; his hard cock; his tongue; her nipples; touches; his abs; sweat; sighs; moans; touches; kisses; bites; pumping; cries; so many touches…

Sensation over took her and as she came she held her hand in place, panting. When her head cleared, she opened her eyes and sighed, looking down at herself. Feeling slightly ashamed of what she had just done-masturbating in Logan’s favorite chair? Really.-she collected herself and her book and slipped out the door, just as quietly as she had come.

Later that night…

Logan began to slow as he drove through the school gates. What am I doing back here? he thought. A month had passed since he had high-tailed it out of Westchester, away from those X geeks, away from those bratty kids, but most importantly, away from her.

He steered his bike into the garage and came to a stop in front of the work bench. He kicked down the kickstand with more force than was necessary and dismounted, slinging his worn duffel bag over his shoulder. Reluctant to go inside, he leaned against his beloved motorcycle and thought about the three little words that had brought him here. “I can touch.”

She had been so joyful that day, when he had caught her and her friend in the middle of a bear hug on the floor. At first he had brushed it off as silly girl stuff, getting ready to mock the two of them for being so childish. But then she had told him the one thing that he had been praying for and dreading all at the same time. It was obvious why he had longed to touch her smooth, milky skin. He had watched Rogue grow from a skinny teenager in a snow bank to a beautiful young woman. A young woman capable of evoking desires, wants, and-stranger still-emotions within him. Of course he wanted to take her and caress every inch of her. Explore her body with his fingers and lips and perhaps more.

But the idea terrified him. He knew that he was way too old for her.  Jesus, you could be her father. Hell, her grandfather, for all you know, he thought to himself, shaking his head. She was sure to want to try out her new found control on boys her own age, or at the very least get some experience in before she settled down, and the thought of that was practically more than he could bare. He was damn sure he would have a hard time sharing his Marie. The Wolverine doesn’t like people touching his things, after all.

Oh, he had teased and flirted with her plenty. But he always felt assured that, no matter how far he took things, no matter how plainly he let her know he wanted her, he was always safe. Safe in the knowledge that the status quo would not change. He might not be able to fuck her…but neither would anyone else.

He smirked at the irony…he thought it was irony, he knew Marie would know…the irony of how now that she had control, everyone should feel safer around Rogue. And he felt completely the opposite.

And so, he had run. He had savored only a few seconds of contact. Relatively innocent contact, at that, and he had taken off. But not before he had seen the way she reacted.

Logan began to trudge into the mansion and make his way to his room. Marie’s face filled is mind. The way her eyes had slowly closed as he had swept his fingers over he cheek for the first time. He had touched her face a few times before, of course, but always in a state of panic, desperately trying to save her and therefore paying no attention whatsoever to what she felt like. And then he had heard her sigh. It was the type of sigh he had heard from plenty of girls before, and he knew what it meant. And what’s more, he knew what it meant coming from Marie: she was becoming aroused. He could even smell it on her. And it scared the hell out of him.

Now, as he neared his room, he wondered to himself, what did he really have to be afraid of? It was a good thing, wasn’t it? She had enjoyed his touch, so much so that a simple caress on the neck had apparently driven her hormones into DEFCON 1. And all for him. His only legitimate fear now was that she might have had that reaction to any guy who touched her. Or worse yet, she hadn’t, but since he had abandoned her, she had tried to find it in another man’s arms. Shit, I hope not, he thought as he opened to door to his bedroom.

He knew the instant he entered that someone had been there since his absence. With one sniff he knew exactly who. Logan could smell Marie everywhere, it was as if someone had bottled her up and sprayed her around his quarters. He glanced around. Here and there were little signs of her having spent time in his room: a plate with the crust of a pizza here, an empty Diet Dr. Pepper can there, one of his flannel shirts out on the bed-he knew she like to wear them when he was away, she said she liked how they smelled like him. He smiled and threw his bag on his bed. This had to be a good sign. She had a room of her own. Well, she shared it with that chatty-cathy friend of hers, but it was still her own space. So why the hell would she want to be in his room? Logan wasn’t a rocket a scientist, but he could figure this one out: she had missed him.

Smiling smugly, he walked over to his dresser and got out a cigar, then made his way over to his favorite chair to sit down and relax before hitting the hay. He made it within two feet of the chair before he smelled it.

Marie. And not just the general scent she always gave out. This was pure, unadulterated, aroused Marie. Musk o’ the Rogue. The strength of it was almost overwhelming and he puzzled how he could possibly have missed it.

Dropping the still unlit cigar, Logan got down on his haunches in front of the chair and sniffed harder. The scent that filled his nostrils was like a drug to him. He allowed himself to be filled with it. Drawing closer, he ran his hands up the arms of the chair and brought himself nearly face down on the seat. Here it was stronger still, and Logan gave a little groan at the overpowering sensation of it all. Marie had been sitting here, all right. But from what he could tell, she hadn’t just been sitting.

God, the scent of her was intoxicating to him. He could feel himself growing harder as he bathed in it, and he lowered a hand to unbutton his jeans and relieve the pressure building within.

He knew he must look ridiculous; a grown man bending over a leather chair, sweeping his hand across the seat and breathing it in, all the while starting to stroke his long, hard member. Ridiculous or sad, he couldn’t decide, but he didn’t care. An addict doesn’t care what he looks like, as long as he gets his fix. And for Logan, his drug was Marie. He thought only of her as he continued to pump his own hand over himself, imagining what she would feel like-warm, wet, and tight around him. He saw his Marie splayed naked on his bed inviting him. She beckoned to him and he would be damned if he wasn't going to accept her invitation.

He was pumping harder now, coming close. He tried to think of how she would feel as she writhed and undulated beneath him. How her inner walls would clamp down on his cock as he trust hard into her, taking her to the brink. And how wonderful, how amazing it would be to hear her utter "Logan" as she climaxed.

He sniffed harder and the unmistakable scent of Marie filled him once more and he came, shooting into his hand. He slumped against the chair, hardly believing what he had just done. He felt like ten kinds of pervert-jacking off to some girl's smell. He sighed and got up. He knew this would never satisfy him. He had to be with her. 

Logan looked at the clock- 4:30 am. He couldn't wake her. Resigned to sleep, he shoved his bag off his bed and lied down on top of the covers. Eventually sleep overtook him.  

Rogue awoke the next morning to heavy pounding on her door. She glanced sleepily at her alarm clock. 10 am? On a Saturday? Who could possibly need her or Jubilee this early on the weekend?

She heard her roommate stir and mumble something about Benicio Del Toro and fencing before rolling over and clearly continuing her beauty sleep. Rogue rolled her eyes and walked to the door.

She opened it to find Logan in mid-knock. A jolt shot through her-he was back! When she found herself again, she launched at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and reaching up to give him a quick kiss on his stubbly cheek. She was not going to let him get away so easily this time.

Logan had almost stumbled backwards when she threw herself at him. Once he had recovered, he was able to enjoy the feeling of holding her small, soft form in his arms. His hands stroked the back of her head, soothing out her sleep-tousled hair. His eyes closed briefly when she pecked him on the cheek; he wanted more. As she drew back from her brief kiss, her face remained close to him.

"I missed you," she whispered.

"I know darlin', I know," he mumbled back. "Just know I never stopped thinking of you."

She smiled. Unable to hold back any longer, Logan slowly lowered his lips onto hers.

Rogue's eyes flew open in surprise but she quickly closed them, allowing herself to be lost in the sensation of Logan kissing her, something she had dreamed of for the longest time. Their mouths moved and slipped against each other, eventually parting and allowing both parties access. Their tongues parleyed and Rogue let out a little moan.

"...Benicio?"

The sound of Jubilee's voice brought Rogue back into focus. She yanked herself away from Logan, who grunted in annoyance. She turned around to check on her roommate who thankfully seemed have remained asleep.

"Logan," Rogue sighed, looking up him.

"Maybe we just go somewhere else," he suggested.

"Good idea."

Taking advantage of his arms still being wrapped around her, he ran his hands further down her sides, enjoying the curve of her hips along the way, and cupping his hands under her backside, he pulled her up and into his arms.

Rogue's breath hitched as she suddenly left the floor. She instinctively wrapped her legs around Logan's waist, though she felt shy about being so intimately close to him. She nevertheless hung on as he walked them swiftly down the hallway to his own room, saying nothing until they were safely inside with the door locked behind them. Immediately after he had ascertained their privacy, he spun them around to hold Rogue up against his bedroom wall.

He began to kiss her once more, hungrily this time, his mouth straying occasionally from her mouth to sweep down her neck and across her collarbone. Rogue was fast losing herself to the feeling of being touched. It practically had her on overload. She gasped as she felt him grind his hips up into her, letting her feel how hard he was. She wriggled down, rubbing her body against his. The shock of the sensation of being nearly joined in such intimate areas made her head swim. She let out a moan, which was quickly stifled by Logan's mouth.  

He pulled back and whispered, almost growling as he continued to grind against her, "Baby, you don't know how long I've wanted to do this with you."

"I think I have some idea," Rogue whispered back. "But Logan, Logan!" She gave his hair a sharp little tug, forcing his head back from where he had begun to lathe at her breasts through her tank top. He growled.

"Logan," she breathed, "I think we both know where this is going, but I don't want my first time to be up against a wall." She looked at him imploringly.

Of course, you dolt, he thought to himself. Take it easy for Christ's sake. There will be plenty of time later to fuck her six ways to Sunday (there had better be, the Wolverine snarled). Make this time count. He slowly nodded and backed off, putting her down.

Sighing, Rogue took his hand and began walking towards his bed, pulled him along with her. He allowed himself to be led. She stopped as the back of her legs touched the linen sheets. She looked up at him, silently beseeching him to carry on. He drew closer and ran his hands down from her shoulders, stopping to cup her breasts. Traveling further down, he found the hem of her tank top and lifted it over her head. He smiled in satisfaction when he saw that she wore no bra. Her breasts, firm and creamy, were given his full attention, and he went to his knees to bring himself to their level. He caressed and sucked, rubbing her nipples until they stood hard against the rest of her softness. He could hear her heavy breathing from above, and could feel her hands as they ran through his unkempt hair. Wanting to hear more than just breathing, he kept his mouth at her chest while he started to sweep his hands further down her stomach. He reached her pajama shorts, and yanked them down, leaving her in only her underwear.

He ran two fingers over her panties down the strip where he knew she would feel it most. He was rewarded with a shuddering breath as she reacted to his touch. Unable to help himself, he let out his claws and tore her last remaining garment from her. Sheathing his natural weapons, his fingers traveled the same path once more, this time against her naked skin. He began to trace around the lips of her opening, teasing her, lightly brushing against her clit as if to hint at things to come. Her breathing was heavier still, and her grip on his hair was firmer. Enough was enough, he figured, and his fingers left their trail, plunging into her. Rogue cried out and yanked his hair simultaneously.

He had never been manhandled in such a way by a girl. He found himself very turned on by it.  

Grinning, he lowered himself further and nudged her legs further apart. The now familiar scent of her arousal was thick to him and he breathed it in as he had the previous night. She granted him access and he began to flick his tongue across her nub, all while his fingers continued to move in and out of her. He could feel her body start to sway as he found a rhythm and he put one arm up against her side, holding her in place. He continued to work for her, licking and sucking, until he could hear and feel her breathing become erratic and her body started to faintly convulse. He kept up his ministrations, and in a few moments, he felt her come. He held onto her until her body stopped shaking. Rising up, he kissed her once more, letting her taste herself on his lips.

She looked up at him through heavily lidded eyes. "Oh...wow," was all she could muster.

He smirked. "Ya all right darlin'?"

"Yeah, it's just I've never..."

"You've never come before?"

She sighed. "No, I have...but never like that."

Logan smiled proudly. "I aim to please," he informed her, before pushing her lightly back onto the bed. She moved herself back onto it and waited for him. Logan quickly disposed of his singlet and began to undo his pants and push them down. He glanced at her as he did, gauging her reaction.

He wasn’t disappointed. Rogue’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of a fully naked Wolverine. Her eyes raked over his taut, muscular body, drifting down over his cut stomach to the engorged organ that was now in plain sight.

Logan got onto the bed, coming to hover over her. Rogue parted her legs to permit him to rest between them. She gave a gasp as she felt his head, already dripping with need, brush against her entrance, causing her to buck her hips in response. Seeing how aroused she was getting, Logan rubbed his cock against her folds, savoring how wet she was. God, she is going to feel so good, he thought. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Marie, darlin’,” he called her back to attention.

“Mmmmh?” was all he got as she squirmed against him.

“Oh God…,” he groaned and tried to focus. “Listen, Marie, I gotta know before we go any further. Is this what you want?”

“Mmm, yessss.”

He could tell her thoughts were a little fuzzier than usual. He allowed himself a moment of pride before asking again. “Are you sure?”

She let out a frustrated sigh, “God dammit, Logan, yes!”

That was all the reassurance that he needed. He positioned himself at her entrance and slowly began to thrust into her. She moaned and wiggled beneath him. Soon he felt the barrier of her virginity. Holding his breath, he forced his way through it, burying himself as far has he could within her tightness. He could feel her body tense and he looked down to make sure she was okay.

Rogue had felt nervous as she first felt him entering her. To tell the truth, she was a little surprised she could take all of him in on her first time. But this strange new feeling of fullness was wonderful…until she felt a sharp pain. She had known that it would probably hurt her first time though, so she swallowed her pain and simply nodded at Logan when she saw him looking down at her, his face filled with concern.

“I’m fine, keep going,” she whispered.

He started to slowly thrust in and out of her, and before too long she was no longer aware of any pain. She only knew Logan: the feel of him all over her and within her, moving up and down her body as he plunged in and out of her, his thickness rubbing deliciously against her nub.

Logan was in heaven. She was so warm and felt so good. He was impressed at how quickly she had learned to match his pace, moving together with him as one as he pumped into her. Changing things up a little, he rotated his hips in a circular motion, grinding against her. He was rewarded with a long moan as he moved within her at a new angle.

“O God… Loooogaaan,” she breathed.

His name rolling off her red, swollen lips drove him wild. He grabbed her legs and swung them up and over his shoulders, forcing her bottom up off the bed at the perfect angle. He pistoned in and out of her, knowing that he was hitting just the right place.

Rogue was fighting with all her might not to moan too loud, and especially not to scream his name like she so desired; she new the mansion’s walls weren’t particularly thick. The feeling of his hard, sweating body hitting against her own was amazing. As he slammed over and over again into her g-spot, she basked in the knowledge that he was working, doing this for her. She clutched at the sheets and rolled her head against her pillow, mussing up her hair.

The sight of Marie below him, clearly losing control nearly put Logan over the edge. Not wanting to go alone, he reached down and began thumbing her clit as he stroked into her. The combination of the two was enough to bring her to the point of ecstasy and she began to shake. He felt her muscles begin to convulse and thrust into her once more, to the hilt. As her inner walls tightened around him, he came along with her, moaning her name as he did.

They lay there afterwards, tired, sweating, happy, and still joined. A few minutes passed, and finally Rogue spoke up.

“Logan, don’t leave me again.”

Logan smiled down at her. “Darlin’, I may leave here again, but next time I will be taking you with me. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Rogue grinned happily. “That would be fantas…mmmh” she was cut off by a sensation within her. “What was that?” she asked.

“Ready to go again baby?” Logan winked and flexed his muscles again, causing his once again hard cock to move slightly within her. She gasped again and nodded.

“All right, darlin’, but this time, you’re going on top.”