Relationships are a good thing. Hell fuckin' yeah.

That realization was beginning to dawn on Logan early on this Saturday morning, as he lay in bed, watching the day's first rays of sunlight illuminating and warming that gorgeous pair of pert, perfectly round breasts belonging to his very drowsy, very satisfied Marie. Yeah, this whole relationship business was a really, really good thing. `Cause relationships meant lovers' spats, and without the occasional lovers' spat, there would be no occasion for the make-up fuck. And that would be a damn shame, because Logan could scarcely think of anything on God's Holy Green Earth more exquisite as a good hard make-up fuck with Marie. And after what had just transpired between him and the brunette goddess in his arms, Logan was feeling pretty damn confident in that she didn't necessarily mind his particular brand of apologizing.

Hell, right now she was all but fuckin' purring as she burrowed into the crook of his shoulder, that stunning white bolt of hair tickling his nipple with every move of her head.

As far as Logan was concerned, there was a definite, distinct line to be drawn between make-up sex and make-up fucking. You see, make-up sex is all fluffy and soft and lovin', the kind of lovemaking that takes place after all anger and resentment has completely dissolved. It's full of tender touches and butterfly kisses and professions of love peppered with cute little pet names like "sugar" and "baby". It was what Logan had given to Marie last year on her 18th birthday, after cornering his prey in the kitchen and promptly vocalizing what they had both known ever since that first meeting in Laughlin City... she was *HIS*, always had been and always would be...they then proceeded to make up for lost time. In fact, it had been a full four days, the two of them squared away in his bedroom at the end of the mansion's west wing - Logan making Marie holler his name every Goddamn way from Sunday – before he was through makin' things up to her.

The make-up fuck, on the other hand, is an entirely different animal altogether. Make-up fucking happens when one or both parties are still angry. It's all pushin' and pullin' and bitin' and growlin', and completely un-fuckin'-believable in Logan's opinion, particularly when it involved a gorgeous little spitfire like Marie. Make-up fucking serves one purpose and one purpose only; to bang out all those nasty little knots of anger that may still be coursing through the other person's body. It's sex as it should be, not as it's fluffed over in all them romance novels that Logan sometimes caught Marie readin'. It's pure animal lust: dirty and primal and raw. And if anyone knew dirty, primal, and raw, Logan mused, it was him.

A smug, self-satisfied grin began to tug at the corners of Logan's mouth as he thought back to the morning's events.

---

Logan had returned to the mansion after a particularly invigorating night spent in a cage, pounding the shit out of some poor fuck who was drunk enough to actually believe that he might be able to take down the infamous Wolverine. Logan knew that Marie didn't like that too tough; she figured that havin' her and a home at Xavier's mansion should be enough. And it wasn't that she wasn't enough for him...hell, she'd had him wrapped around her delicate little finger ever since the first time he damn near drowned in those deep brown eyes of hers. But the animal part of him liked a good fight every now and then, and whenever there was a lull in between fighting the good fight with Scooter and the Geeks, the need to pound on something became almost unbearable. Still, he knew Marie didn't like it.

So when Logan crept back into the bedroom he shared with Marie at five o'clock in the morning, he wasn't surprised to find her lying on the bed, back turned toward him. Yep, she was mad all right. He began peeling the sweaty, cigar-reeking clothing away from his tense, bulging muscles (one of those muscles in particular starting to bulge more than the others at the sight and scent of his mate) and headed to the bathroom for a gloriously long, hot shower. Forty-five minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom and slipped into bed next to Marie, naked as the day he was born. He had fully intended to play Marie's game, to turn his back to her as well and get some desperately needed sleep, but one look at those delicious curves of hers, veiled by the thin white sheet draped over her sleeping form, and the desire for sleep was quickly replaced by a more potent, primal desire.

Logan reached out and began slowly tracing his fingertips down Marie's side. He stopped at the curve of her hip, then moved upward again, his hand now open and skimming over the front of her body, stopping only to give her left breast an affectionate squeeze. When she didn't stir, Logan slipped his hand under the snug fitting white camisole that she wore to bed and gave her nipple a firm pinch. This was enough to rouse Marie, though not completely, and even though she was still half asleep, she was apparently lucid enough to remember that she was angry, because she quickly slapped Logan's hand away.

Now that kind of rejection may have been enough to discourage a lesser man, and by a lesser man, Logan was thinking of one man in particular: namely that little Ice-punk that he was none too pleased to find sniffin' around his Marie when he returned from Alkali Lake. Lucky for Marie, Logan was no Ice-punk; he was all fire and lava and burnin' heat, and he sure as shit never backed down from a challenge. Smiling ferally to himself at the thought, Logan continued his sensual assault on the sleeping Marie.

He began to slowly drag the sheet down her body, bit by bit, until that glorious ass of hers was in full view. Lace panties. *Fuck*. White. Nice. Very nice. Logan licked his lips at the sight before him. His cock was now painfully hard, and he decided he was gonna do somethin' about it.

*SNIKT*

In a flash of gleaming metal, the claws were out and those cute little panties were shredded and strewn aside. Before Marie could register the sudden cool air on her buttocks, Logan – spurned on by the thick, heady scent of Marie's sex – snaked his expert hands between her creamy thighs and buried his left middle finger into her moist center. Logan had to stifle a low rumbling growl as he realized how wet and ready she was. His mind was beginning to spin out of control now, what with the rich, delicious scent of Marie's arousal permeating the air and assaulting his heightened senses, and -*Christ* - she was starting to moan softly and writhe against his hand, her breathing becoming shallow and erratic as she started to yield to his ministrations.

Marie was still sleeping though, and using this to his advantage, Logan pulled her closer to him, pressing his now rock hard member against her backside as he parted Marie's second loveliest set of lips to find the swollen bundle of nerves nestled between them.

"Hope you're dreamin' of me, baby," he half-growled, half-whispered into her ear.

Logan wasn't sure if it was the unexpected warm breath on her ear or the rumble deep in his chest that finally roused her, but she was awake in a flash, sitting up abruptly and glaring down at him angrily, the sleep not yet gone from her eyes.

"Mornin', darlin'," he said, flashing her a wicked grin.

"You GODDAMN son of a–" She was on him like a banshee, her legs straddling either side of his hips, hands flying wildly toward him, trying to make contact with his face. God, how he loved that feisty quality of hers. Logan was swifter, though, and even in her fury, she proved no match for his defensive instincts. It sure didn't stop her from trying though, even after she had both of her tiny wrists trapped behind her, bound by Logan's left hand.

Logan felt his breath catch in his throat as he took in the magnificent sight atop him. Marie looked absolutely wild, her thick auburn waves falling over her shoulders, her cheeks flushed, that signature white streak falling in front of her flaming eyes. Her breath came in short rasps, her breasts heaving as she tried to wriggle her hands from his grasp. He was no longer looking at his sweet little Marie...She was Rogue now, in all her glory, and Logan had never felt more lucky to have her than he did at that very moment. He reached up with his free hand and began roughly stroking her breasts through the camisole, giving each nipple a hard tweak and eliciting a cry of pain from her before his hand settled on her hip.

"Grrrr..." Rogue threw him a warning growl, her pupils dilated and burning into his.

"Mmmm.....love you too, darlin'," Logan growled softly as he dug his fingers into the flesh of her hip and began rocking her slick folds along the length of his burning erection. He knew she was getting angrier by the moment, and this only served to incite him further. Because an angry Rogue meant there was a risk she might switch on her mutation just long enough to teach him a lesson. And the mere prospect of flirting with that kind of danger opened up a whole new dimension of arousal for him.

"GrrRRRROwwl....." A louder warning this time, her lips curling into a snarl as she glared down at him. "Perverted cocksuck – OWWW!!!"

Whatever Marie was about to say next was interrupted by a sharp, stinging smack to her buttock, courtesy of Logan.

"Not nice, Marie," he said, his expression growing dark and predatory. "I'm tryin' to apologize here, I won't have you sassin' me."

Amused by the look of shock on her face, Logan continued to grind his hips to hers, setting them on a rhythm that was quickly driving him over the edge. Her body was beginning to soften now, her hips starting to move on their own. Logan watched as her eyes fluttered, then closed, her head tilting back as she arched against him. Finally releasing her hands, he closed his eyes and let out a growl of his own. The distinct aroma of her arousal was creeping in and intermingling with her anger. *Christ*, she was driving...him... in..sane. He had to have her. NOW.

Logan lifted Marie's hips with his strong hands and positioned his pulsating member at her entrance. Mesmerized by the sensation of her warm, wet flesh nudging the engorged head of his cock, he was caught by surprise when –

*SMACK!*

Marie rounded back and landed a good hard slap on his left cheek. Before she could hit him again, Logan grabbed her by the forearms and yanked her down toward him until her face was inches from his.

"Try that again and I'm gonna have to restrain you," he rumbled in the deepest, most threatening tone he could muster, given the lust that was now rushing through his every vein. Knowing that Marie must have seen the want in his eyes when he said that, Logan cocked an eyebrow at the leather belt hanging on the bedpost, silently daring her to call his bluff. Her lips were close to his now, red and plump and begging to be kissed, so Logan did just that. Releasing her wrists, he crushed her to his broad chest, grabbing a handful of those luscious brown locks as he planted a deep, hungry kiss on her. She swallowed his lusty growls as he mashed her face into his, his cock twitching at every sensation.

"...grrrrrowwwwrrr...grrrrrrrr.....grrrAAH! FUCK!!!!!"

Marie had caught his bottom lip between her teeth and had bitten down. HARD. She sneered down at Logan as the salty taste of blood began to flood his tastebuds. Before the wound could heal itself, he had her pinned on her back, her hands pounding and scratching at his chest as she tried to free herself from his iron embrace.

"Get OFF me, you SON OF A –"

Grabbing her wrists with one hand, Logan drew her arms above her head, using the other hand to pry her legs apart. Marie kicked and bucked wildly against him as he sat back on his heels, hooking his thighs under hers to keep them splayed open. The animal in him now taking over, Logan ripped the belt from the bedpost, securing Marie's wrists with one end and anchoring the other end to the bed-frame. Her hands now out of the way, Logan took the opportunity pop his claws out and dispose of the camisole she was still wearing.

Fucking Hell, she was beautiful.

Logan was practically salivating as his eyes swam over the now naked Marie's body. And from the looks of things, her face wasn't the only part of her that was red and puffy, Logan noted to himself, a wicked grin beginning to creep across his face. He bent down to take one of those perfect breasts in his mouth, his tongue running fiercely over the swollen and hard nipple. Marie moaned softly at the sensation before coming back to her senses, bucking Logan off of her and bringing her knee up abruptly, hitting him in the chin. It was Logan's turn to snarl now, as he lay down on top of her, one hand going to her hip, steadying her, and the other hand clamping down over her mouth – just in case she had it in her head to start bitin' again.

"Don't say I didn't warn you, darlin'," he growled as he looked deep into her fiery eyes.

"MMMPH!" was the only sound that came from her as he thrust his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt inside of her. Logan had to use every ounce of restraint left in his lust riddled body not to explode right then and there. He clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on hers as he felt her inner muscles quivering and adjusting to the sudden, massive invasion. Marie gasped against his hand as Logan drew slowly out of her and then slammed ruthlessly into her again.

He stayed there for a moment, searching her eyes for the signs that her anger was beginning to waver. Not seeing any, he set into a slow, grinding rhythm, a low, grumbling growl beginning to roll deep in his chest as he set out to find all those little knots of tension inside of her. His thrusting growing more and more intense with each stroke, Logan began to build a slow crescendo, desperately hanging on to his sanity as Marie's hips finally began to writhe underneath him.

"That's it...good girl..." Logan watched her intensely as his efforts started to pay off, the fire in her eyes gradually shifting away from anger and toward a different kind of heat.

"Mmph!....Mmmm....mmmmm-hmmmm..." Her muffled moans, now changing from defiance to appreciation, were threatening to drive Logan out of his everlovin' mind, and when her slender legs came up and wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper as he pounded into her, his low continuous growl nearly turned into a roar. But it wasn't his turn to roar yet. There was still one stubborn knot of tension somewhere in there, and if he was hittin' the right spot, then it should be somewhere….right….

"MMMMMMMMmmmm...."

Yeah. Right there. Logan watched with animal pride as Marie's eyes began to roll back, her body turning to jelly beneath him. Just before she careened over the edge, Logan screeched to a halt, withdrawing almost completely from her now soaking wet insides.

"MMMPH!!" Marie protested, bucking her hips upward, begging him to finish the job. Logan flashed her an evil smile, reveling in the fact that he was now sitting in the bargaining seat. He looked at her tauntingly, savoring the look in her eyes as he kept her dangling in the balance.

"Now darlin'," he growled softly as he moved his lips to her ear, peppering it with feather-light kisses, his warm breath on her no doubt causing enough torture in itself. "I'd love to finish what we've started here, but I can't do that if you're still intent on sassin' me."

Marie's head nodded frantically, her breath coming in desperate pants. Logan still had one or two more conditions, though...

"Now if I untie you, darlin', the only part of me I want you scratchin' is my back. Understand?"

More nodding. More panting.

"And if I take my hand off your mouth..." His eyes darkened as he fixed them on hers. "...the only thing I wanna hear you hollerin' is my name."

Satisfied with the knowledge that Marie would damn well cut off her right foot if he'd asked her too, Logan reached up with one hand and untied her wrists, her hands promptly wrapping around his back, pulling him closer.

"Oh, and one more thing, darlin'," he added before removing his hand from her mouth. She looked at him, imploring him with her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

With that, he took her hips in his hands, holding them steady as he pounded her for all she was worth. It wasn't long before she began to shudder beneath him, her fingernails drawing blood from his back as he drove her home.

"...Logan...oh yes, Logan...Logan....LOGAN....ohh GAWWWD, LOGAANNNN!!!" Marie's entire body wound up and she mumbled something incoherent against Logan's shoulder as she flew apart in his arms, her inner muscles clamping down then spasming uncontrollably around him.

Hearing his name being screamed over and over again from those beautiful lips, combined with the milking action of her insides on his cock was more than even the Wolverine could take. Something snapped inside of him as he tumbled over into the abyss with her, all sorts of thoughts and emotions racing through his mind. He was so filled with pride and lust and desire, and oh God she was screamin' his name, *HIS* name, and she was his, Goddamn fuckin' gorgeous woman, and…

"GrrrrOWWWWWRRRRRRR!!!"

Logan buried his face in Marie's hair, growling ferociously as his orgasm ripped through him, spilling what felt like his entire body into her. It was only after a few minutes of whimpers and incoherent mumblings of affection panted into her ear that he finally came back down to earth.

Rolling onto his back, he pulled Marie into his arms, and watched her, beaming with pride as she started to drift off to sleep. And just before he followed her into slumber, he thought to himself that he was definitely, DEFINITELY going cage fighting again next Friday.

---

Logan kissed Marie's forehead softly, stroking her hair until she began to stir again, finally opening her sleepy eyes and looking up at him.

"You still pissed at me, darlin'?" he asked, pulling Marie's face up to his so that she could see the dark, wicked glint of lust in his hazel eyes.

Logan knew that Marie knew that her answer really didn't matter much. Because at best, she'd be over her anger, in which case they would be free to indulge in some soft, lovin' make-up sex, giving Logan a chance to inflict a slower, sweeter kind of torture… the kind that involved caressing and nibbling all those beautiful parts of her that he'd missed the first time around.

At worst, she'd still be harboring some resentment toward him, in which case –

"...cocky...arrogannn...son-uv-a..."

- he'd have no problem what-so-fuckin' ever spending the rest of the morning and afternoon helping her work out the rest of those knots.

END