He’d honestly thought he’d had Drake beat. He’d had him backed up, his fire forcing him into retreat. He just hadn’t banked on the prick being able to ‘ice-up’ and then headbutt him, causing the world to go black as he crumpled to the ground.

***

Pyro groaned as he surfaced, blinking against the light. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the dryness in his throat.

“He’s awake.”

Pyro frowned. The voice sounded slightly familiar.

“So knock him out again.”

He grunted at the sting in his neck. The only thing he said before blacking out again was ‘oh fuck’.

***

The next time he surfaced, he was being dragged by his arms down a corridor. He tried to look up, but it didn’t work. The movement in his neck was restricted, so he was forced to examine the floor tiles. He groaned at the pain working through his body, and the grip on his left arm tightened.

“Welcome back.”

Pyro managed a grunt in response to the gruff voice before being tossed into a bare room. The harsh grip returned, but Pyro lacked the energy for any kind of struggle as manacles were clamped around his wrists. His eyes widened in recognition of his captor before he felt another sting in his neck.

“Not again.”

***

He stood up as the cell door opened, glaring at the man who entered. “Where’s my phone call?” Pyro demanded with characteristic sarcasm

Logan crossed his arms over his chest, standing an arm’s length away. “You don’t get a fucking phone call, you got no rights here.”

Pyro raised an eyebrow, sneering. “You know, just between you and me—I think this place has gone downhill since the professor’s death. Thought you guys were all about protecting mutantkind and all that other flowery bullshit.”

Logan’s arms dropped as he stepped closer, clenching and unclenching his fists. “Things change.”

Pyro’s eyes flicked down to watch Logan’s hands, waiting to see if the blades would come out. “So what now? You going to torture me for information?”

“Not sure that you’ve really got any information I need, but I’m okay with the torture part.” Logan backhanded Pyro across the face, splitting the younger man’s lip.

Pyro spat out blood, a sneer forming on his lips. “That the best you got old man?”

Logan growled, punching him in the stomach before grabbing him by the hair and bringing his knee up. He grinned at the sound of bone crunching as Pyro’s nose broke.

Pyro coughed, falling back against the wall as he slid to the floor. He smiled through the blood pouring from the wound. “I have to say that this approach lacks a certain finesse. Why don’t you use one of the telepaths? Or get Rogue in here to drain me?” Pyro smiled as his torturer’s mask slipped for a moment. “Guess you don’t you want her seeing your handiwork. Afraid that she’ll finally see through her hero complex and recognise you for the animal you are?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Marie wouldn’t do any good here.”

Pyro’s eyes widened at the use of Rogue’s real name. “She took the Cure didn’t she? I fucking knew it.”

Logan shrugged. “Only thing she’s good for now is fucking.”

Pyro turned his head, wiping his bloody nose on his shirt. “She was always good for fucking. The Iceman just didn’t know what to do with her.”

Logan’s thumb hooked over his belt buckle. “Who said she was fucking Bobby?”

Pyro’s face transformed, and he began trying to rip his restraints from the wall, determined to get to Logan. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Logan crouched, and his hand wrapped around Pyro’s throat in less than a second. He pushed him back against the wall, bringing any attempts at escape to a screeching halt. His hazel eyes narrowed as he studied Allerdyce’s face, and his nostrils flared at certain indicators in the fire starter’s scent. Apparently he’d just discovered a weak spot. It was time to see just how much he could use that to his advantage.

Logan brought his face close to Pyro’s, his voice lowering until it was nearly a whisper. “She feels so good when she’s riding my dick, all hot and tight as she drips all over me. Even gets my balls wet,” he said, hoarse at the thought

Pyro gnashed his teeth, trying to bite Logan, but all it earned him was another backhand. The impact made his head thump against the wall and he winced at the pain.

Logan’s tongue came out to wet his lips. “And Jesus, is she ever good at giving head. Makes me hard just thinking about coming in her mouth.” He leant even closer to Pyro, his mouth next to the younger man’s ear. “She swallows it with a smile, too.”

Pyro tried to move his head — anything to get away from Logan. He didn’t want to hear anymore. He tried to swallow against the bile rising in his throat, but Logan’s hand around his throat was making it impossible.

Logan smiled, but it didn’t carry to his eyes. “I’m not done with you yet, boy.”

A blade extended on Logan’s right fist, and he cut open Pyro’s shirt. Pyro started struggling against Logan’s grip, but Logan’s hand tightened on his throat and he stopped, anxious to keep breathing. His chest rose and fell rapidly, but his body stilled the moment Logan’s blade touched his skin. Pyro’s jaw clenched as the adamantium dragged down his torso.

Logan watched the blood flow freely from the wound for a long moment before lifting his eyes to meet Pyro’s. “Feel free to scream, but it won’t do any good.” He made another slow cut, relaxing his grip on Pyro’s throat just enough to let out any sounds the boy wished to make. “There’s no one else down here.”

***

“Logan!”

He turned at the sound of her voice, smiling as she ran up to him. His eyes fixed on her mouth, the innocent curve of her lips as she smiled flooding him with guilt over what he’d just been saying.

“Is it true? Is John really here at the mansion?”

His smile disappeared, and he frowned at her undisguised look of hope. “Yeah.”

Marie tucked a few stray platinum strands behind her ear. “So where is he?”

Logan looked away, trying to decide how much to tell her. “He’s being kept locked up. He was too dangerous to be allowed to wander the halls.”

Marie’s eyebrows went up, and her lips parted in shock. “You’re keeping him prisoner?”

Logan looked down at her, the frown deepening. He didn’t like her insinuation that he alone was keeping the little shit captive. “The X-Men are keeping him locked up.”

She was shaking her head, her brow creasing. “But why?”

Logan started walking up the stairs, not bothering to see if she’d follow. “You weren’t at Alcatraz, so I can’t really expect you to understand — but he’s not one of us, Marie. He tried to kill your friends, and he was Magneto’s right hand man. Is that really someone you want around?”

She chose to ignore his argument and looked up at Logan from the bottom of the stairs. “Can I see him?”

Logan turned abruptly, pointing his finger as he spoke. “I don’t want you anywhere near him, you understand me?”

She looked down at her hands, about to start tugging at the tips of her gloves before she realised she no longer wore gloves. “Like you said, Logan—you don’t expect me to understand.”

Logan watched as she turned around and walked away. He grunted, making his way to his room. Why didn’t she understand that Allerdyce wasn’t one of them anymore? Why couldn’t she see that he was protecting her by keeping her away from the fire starter? Kicking the door shut with his foot, he stripped off the clean sweatshirt he’d been wearing to remove the bloodstained t-shirt beneath. He caught his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed, and grimaced. The blood had soaked through to the wifebeater below. He ripped that off as well, and then looked down at his chest, his fingers touching the areas of red that had gotten past the two layers of clothing. He forced his gaze away from the mirror, and stomped into his private bathroom. He needed to get the blood off.

Logan raised his head, welcoming the feel of the hot spray on his face. He leant forwards, holding himself up with one hand as he let the water sluice down his back. It bothered him how easily he had fallen into old habits, and how easy it had been to torture Allerdyce. He had planned to rough him up, maybe try and scare the kid straight. Instead, he had found himself trying to break him. And that bothered him most of all.

His intentions had been relatively honourable, right up ‘til the point where the fire starter mentioned her name. Jeered at their complicated relationship. Logan knew he was jealous of the little shit, and what he may have had with Marie. His hands clenched into fists at the mere thought of it, his knuckles itching as his claws sought release.

The look on her face when she’d asked about Pyro had made Logan sick to his stomach. It brought up a whole lot of questions he really didn’t want floating around in his head, not now. It also made him feel that much more guilty about the damage he’d done to the fire starter. He grabbed the soap, running it over his chest.

As he washed the red stains from his skin, his thoughts strayed back to what he’d said about Marie. It was easily justified back in the cell — after all, he was trying to test Allerdyce’s weak spot. But now that he had time to really think about it, he wasn’t enjoying the fact that a big part of him was wishing he was fucking her. Wishing it hadn’t been lies.

The words that had come out of his mouth had been designed to provoke, but when Logan shut his eyes, all he could see were her cupid’s bow lips around his dick. He could smell her scent; imagine what she would feel like, and how she would taste. His lower body began to stir, and he growled as he shut off the water.

He stepped from the shower, grabbing a towel and drying himself off as he walked back into his bedroom. What the hell was wrong with him? It had to be the stress of battle, surely. He could never — not with her. He closed his eyes, and saw images of himself slamming into her as her moans filled the room. His breathing became laboured, and every nerve in his body tingled at the thought of being inside her. This time there was no fighting the arousal the images brought, and in a way, he welcomed it. As Logan wrapped his hand around his stiff cock, he reasoned that maybe if he jerked off, he’d get the thoughts out of his system. If he just let go and embraced them for as long as it took to get himself off, then maybe he’d be able to get back to thinking of her as a friend. A responsibility. A burden even. Right now, he was the one with the burden.

His strokes became faster as he imagined her hands on his body, her lips on his skin. Her brown eyes were hooded as they looked at him, her mouth wide with delight as she began to tremble beneath him. Logan came with a grunt, spilling over his hand. He opened his eyes, frowning at the lack of relief. There was some self-loathing, but mostly, there was just frustration. He cleaned himself off with the towel, quickly pulling on a clean wifebeater and his jeans. He paced for a good ten minutes before wrenching open his door and striding down the corridor.

He paused at the sounds coming from one of the rooms. He cocked his head, an eyebrow arching as he recognised the sobs and groans of passion. A female voice gasped her lover’s name, and Logan frowned. They’d only just returned from Alcatraz and already that human ice tray was fucking Shadowcat. He sneered, half-tempted to storm in there and teach the little prick a lesson. It was only thoughts of how Marie must feel that stopped him. He glanced at the door, then toward the stairs. He ran a hand through his hair, turning around and heading towards the other end of the corridor.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked softly on her door. It felt like an eternity before she opened it. Her smile disappeared the moment she saw it was him.

“What do you want?”

He couldn’t blame her for being cold. A scream floated down the corridor, and Logan watched Marie’s face carefully. Her expression never changed, but he could smell the sadness coming off her.

“You never told me about —” his head jerked in the direction of the scream, “— that.”

She shrugged, folding her arms over her chest. “I didn’t really see how it was any of your business.”

Logan frowned. “Everything about you is my business. Can we just talk for a minute?”

Marie’s eyes narrowed as she looked at him. “I don’t know, you planning on insulting me again?”

Logan opened his mouth, about to start defending his decision to lie to Allerdyce when he abruptly shut it. She didn’t mean that, there was no way she could even know about what he’d said. He felt his stomach sink in realisation of what she was referring to — his dig about the battle, about her not being there. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like it did.”

She frowned. “Then how did you mean it to sound?”

“Marie —”

Voices came from down the corridor, and he turned to see Drake leaving that Pryde girl’s room. His nostrils flared at the odour of sex.

“You better come in.”

He looked back at Marie, surprised to see her standing aside to allow him in. He stepped past her, his eyes sweeping over her room. The truth was, in all the years he’d known her, he hadn’t actually set foot in it. He started to wonder why that was when she cleared her throat.

“I never told you, because it’s still painful. I didn’t need you thinking that I’d gone and taken the Cure for him, only to be rejected.”

Logan turned to look at her. Her arms were hugged tightly around her waist, and she was looking at the bed.

“You told me you weren’t taking it for some boy.”

She glanced at him briefly, before looking away again. “I didn’t.”

He stepped closer to her, his hand on her shoulder. “Then why would you think that I still believed you had?”

She shook her head as she moved out of his grip. “I don’t know. Just don’t worry about it. Let’s talk about something else.” She looked up at him. “How is he?”

Logan tilted his head. “Who?”

He didn’t like the way she started fidgeting, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she sucked in a breath. It was that, and the fear that started coming off her, that told him who she meant, even before she answered.

“John. Is he okay?”

Logan’s brow lowered, and he turned away. “Why do you care so much?”

A photo on her desk caught his attention, and he stepped closer. The simple frame held an image of her sandwiched between Drake and Allerdyce. She was smiling at the camera, as was Drake, but Allerdyce wasn’t looking at the camera — his eyes were on Marie, and Logan had to bite back the growl that threatened to come out. There was no mistaking the look on the kid’s face. While Allerdyce’s right hand was holding up his lighter, his left arm was slipped around Marie’s waist and she even appeared to be leaning into him. Drake was on her right side, apparently oblivious to what was going on. Logan wondered briefly whether he had ever seen the photo, and whether Drake knew that she had never really belonged to him.

Marie came up beside him, but his eyes stayed fixed on the photograph.

She followed his eye line. “We were friends.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to regard her. “Seems like you were a lot more than friends.”

She looked away as her cheeks reddened, and Logan turned back to the photograph. He was interested to see that she was embarrassed, but not guilty. He had been so adamant in never entertaining thoughts of Marie as anything more than a friend — too young, too innocent for anything else — that he might have missed something. If she was old enough to cheat on her boyfriend, and old enough to take the Cure, and old enough to have that same boyfriend cheat on her and reject her, then maybe she was old enough for Logan to …

He closed his eyes, shaking his head at the thought.

“Logan, are you okay?”

His eyes snapped open, looking down at where her hand was on his arm — her very gloveless, very touchable hand. He looked up to find chocolate eyes full of concern, and suddenly couldn’t pretend anymore. He grabbed the hand on his arm, backing her up against the wall. Her eyes widened, and her scent was suddenly shot through with fear, but he ignored it. He still saw that fire starter’s arm around her in the photo, still saw the way his face had transformed with jealousy and rage as he threatened to kill Logan. He could almost see Marie’s mouth around his dick, still felt her trembling beneath him.

“You’re not his, Marie.”

Her brow knitted with confusion, and she opened her mouth to say something, but no words were allowed to leave her throat. Logan’s lips pressed against hers, and she tried to push him away. Logan’s free hand slid up her body, and Marie’s fingers dug into his shoulders as he cupped her breast through her shirt. His tongue skimmed her bottom lip, but when she didn’t open her mouth willingly, he pushed it past her lips. Logan nearly groaned at the taste of her as he swept his tongue over hers. He rubbed his erection against her stomach, a growl building up in his chest as he savoured the friction. His tongue continued exploring her depths, and he felt Marie begin to respond.

A little moan escaped her as he sucked on her tongue, her hands moving from his shoulders to his hair. The fear had begun to recede in her scent, her musk levels soaring as she began to enjoy what was happening. Logan kept her pinned with his body, releasing her mouth only to bite her neck. Her body went rigid, but he kept nipping and sucking at the flesh of her throat until he tasted blood. His hand fell from her chest, slipping between their two bodies. He pressed it against the juncture of her legs, another growl elicited by the heat radiating from her. His mouth stayed on her neck as his hand begun to rub her though her jeans. Marie’s head fell back, a moan coming from her lips.

“You’re mine.”

Marie lifted her head, meeting his gaze. Logan held it for a few seconds before stepping back. She looked at him, brows drawing together in confusion.

“Logan?”

He turned without a word, leaving her room. The moment he stepped into his bedroom, the self-loathing flooded him. His tongue dragged over his lips and he growled softly at her lingering taste. She had tasted so fucking good, and the way she felt... Logan’s cock strained against its denim confines and he briefly toyed with the idea of a cold shower. He dismissed it, knowing that only one thing would come close to bringing him any of sense of relief — hiding his lust deep within her silky folds. But that was why it could never happen. No matter what she had done with Drake, or Allerdyce or any other kid, she wasn't ready for him. Ready for his perversions. They would have to stay locked up with Pyro — he refused to allow them to taint her, the way he had tonight.

***

Logan’s head jerked up as he caught her scent. She was coming through the foyer with that perky Eurasian girl. He paused at the bottom of the stairs, watching as her hand kept arranging her hair to cover his mark.

“Marie!”

She looked up at the sound of his voice. Her hair shifted, and his gaze fell to the deep purple bruise on her pale throat. He looked at it for a few seconds, waiting until she had started shifting uncomfortably before lifting his gaze. He motioned for her to follow him as he turned and headed for the elevator.

He heard her footsteps as she jogged to catch up with him. He didn’t say anything to as he stepped into the elevator, merely raising an eyebrow in invitation. She hesitated, and then jumped in quickly as the doors began to close.

“Where are we going?”

Logan didn’t look at her, keeping his eyes front. “Down.”

Marie’s eyes stayed on him, but she didn’t ask any further questions. He felt her gaze travel down his body, smelt the spike in her scent as they came to rest on his belt buckle. He moved his hand, hooking his thumb over it and she quickly turned her head away, blushing.

Again, he didn’t wait to see if she’d follow, just stepped out of the elevator and strode down the sublevel corridor.

He pulled a keycard from his pocket. “You have five minutes.”

She watched him punch in a code, her brows drawn in confusion. “Five minutes for what?”

Logan gripped her arm as the metal door swung open, shoving her inside before pushing the button to close it again.

Marie turned, banging on the door. “Hey! What are you doing? Logan!”

She pressed her forehead against the metal, cursing under her breath.

“I’d offer you a chair, but I’m afraid the budget didn’t quite stretch to furniture.”

Marie turned, her eyes widening as she watched John Allerdyce struggle to stand up.

“What, no hug?”

“John!”

He slid down the wall a little, grimacing as he tried to keep standing. “Well at least you remember my name.”

Marie’s eyes traversed his body, her hand flying to her mouth as she took in the multiple cuts and bruises, as well as the bloodstained clothes. The floor was still spattered with blood, and she wondered who had done this to John. She rushed over to him, moving to help him sit down, but he waved her away.

“Leave me alone, Marie.”

She looked at him, blanching at the anger in his eyes. “John…”

He sneered at her. “I don’t want help from some human.”

She stepped back, biting her lip. He had made the word sound so vile, his voice full of hatred. She watched him sit down, his head falling back against the wall as he took a deep breath. His hair was now blond, and she resisted the urge to run her fingers through it. She wanted to know if it was just as soft as she remembered.

“What happened to you?”

His eyes snapped open as the sneer reappeared on his face. “You should be asking the Wolverine.”

Marie forced herself to look at his injuries again. Now that she was closer she could see them in more detail, and the damage that had been done to John’s body made her stomach roil. She refused to believe that Logan was responsible: John had been a student at the school — hell, Logan had protected him along with her and Bobby during Stryker’s attack on the mansion. Why would he do something like this? She took a deep breath, fighting the nausea to continue her examination. Her eyes locked onto three parallel cuts in John’s leg. Only one thing could have made them: Logan’s claws She lifted her gaze to look at John’s chest, and as she followed each slash and cut, distant memories surfaced in her mind — images of things Logan had done, people he had hurt.

She shook her head. “He wouldn’t do it without good reason.”

Pyro snorted, running a hand through his bleached locks. “Just like you to defend him.”

Marie’s gaze had been drawn to the manacles around his wrists. She fell to her knees, grabbing his hand. Her fingers ran over the metal cuff, and he flinched. She couldn’t stop the tears that started to roll down her cheeks.

“I don’t need your fucking pity.”

She looked up, unable to comprehend why he was being so spiteful. She wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand before tucking her hair behind her ears. “Why are you being like this, John?”

He looked away. “Being tortured by your new boyfriend isn’t really putting me in the best mood.”

Marie’s brow knitted in confusion. “My new boyfriend?” She’d only just broken up with Bobby, how could she possibly have a new boyfriend? She continued staring at him, her eyes widening as comprehension dawned. “Logan?”

He looked at her, wrapping a hand in her hair as he pushed it away from her neck, exposing Logan’s bite mark. “Don’t even try and deny it, Rogue. I just want to know how long it was after I left before you started fucking him.”

Marie stared at him, confusion fast turning into anger. How dare he sound so accusing when she hadn’t done anything wrong? Well, besides cheat on Bobby with John in the first place. “You left me, remember? You don’t get to be the angry one, I do. You fucking left me to join The Brotherhood. How did you think that made me feel?”

His grip on her hair tightened, and he yanked her forward, bringing her face close to his. “Did you even miss me, or did you just jump straight into his bed?”

Marie couldn’t believe what he was saying. She took a breath, but before any words left her mouth the cell door opened with a loud clang.

“Marie.”

She turned her head awkwardly, John’s grip restricting her movement. Logan was standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as his eyes flicked between Marie and John.

“One second.”

“Now.”

Marie frowned, about to start arguing the point with Logan when John released her. She turned back to look at him questioningly.

“Go. I don’t want you here.”

She blinked rapidly, trying to stem the flow of tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. “John —”

“Just go.”

She got up slowly, looking back at him once she’d reached the doorway. Logan grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her out of the cell as he closed the door behind them. His harsh grip never relented as he walked down the corridor, practically dragging her along.

“Logan, you’re hurting me.” She tried to struggle away, but it was useless. She was sure there’d be bruises in the morning. “Logan!” He continued to ignore her, so she tried thumping him in the arm with her free hand. “Let me go, Logan.”

He stopped abruptly, releasing her. She looked up to find him scowling, but the anger disappeared when he saw she was rubbing her arm. He reached out a hand to touch her, but she stepped back.

“What have you been saying to John?”

He frowned, not appreciating her accusatory tone. “What business is it of yours?”

Marie’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, and then she advanced on him, fury gathering in her face as she poked him in the chest. “What business is it of mine? John thinks we’re sleeping together, and you’re asking me what business is it of mine? What have you been telling him, Logan?”

He raised an eyebrow, his mouth curled back in a sneer. “Maybe I’m missing something here, darlin’, but you saw the state of him, right? Shouldn’t you be more worried about what I’ve been doing to him, and not what I’ve been saying?”

Marie’s anger faltered, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for something to say in reply. She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Well, now that you bring up what the hell you’ve been doing, how about this?” She pulled her hair back, turning her head to give him a clear view of the bite mark. “You did this for John’s benefit didn’t you? To feed whatever lies you’ve been telling him.”

He let out a low growl, forcing Marie to back up against the wall. He pushed into her personal space, looming over her. “Didn’t exactly hear you complaining about it last night, darlin’.”

“That’s because—” Because I thought it was about me; that you wanted me, she had been about to say. “Don’t put this back on me. You did it because you wanted him to see, you wanted to give him ‘proof’. You used me, Logan.”

He dipped his head, breathing in her scent. There was no fear, not like last night —nothing but the scent of her shampoo, her light floral perfume and just the tiniest bit of musk. She smelt so goddamn good. His lips brushed the shell of her ear, and he smiled when she shivered. “You don’t know me that well if you think I’d use you.” His free hand slid down her side, his fingers pulling at the hem of her shirt. “So?”

Marie looked up at him, her brow drawn in confusion. “What?”

His hand slipped up under her shirt, his fingers brushing at the underside of her bra. “Aren’t you going to say something about what I’ve been doing to your lover in there?”

She bit her lip, trying to stifle the moan. Her hands came up to push against Logan’s chest to try and gain some space, but instead she gripped his t-shirt and gasped as his thumb brushed over her nipple. “He’s not… we’re not…”

He held back the growl as he took the hardened nub between forefinger and thumb, teasing it through her bra. “Does it bother you? That I’m capable of something like that?”

Her cheeks turned pink; embarrassed that she could do nothing to stop Logan. Or that she didn’t want to. A moan escaped her lips, and the blush deepened. She shouldn’t be enjoying this.

His nostrils flared, the scent of her increasing arousal invading his olfactory nerves. He pulled his hand from under her shirt, unbuttoning her jeans and lowering the zip. “Maybe you’re not saying anything because you like that side of me.” His hand slipped inside her underwear. “Is that what it is darlin’?”

He emitted a growl as he slipped two fingers between her silky folds. Christ, she was so fucking wet already. The feel of her had him hard in no time.

Marie’s teeth drew blood as she stifled a moan, refusing to let him know verbally that she was enjoying this. The hungry look in his eyes already told her he knew in any case. She hated herself for being unable to control her body.

Logan’s growl rumbled from deep within his chest. His fingers rubbed harshly against her clit, keeping up the pressure. It was only when she started to tremble under his touch that he pushed them deeper inside her, pumping them in and out as his thumb massaged her clit. He let out another growl, his erection becoming painful as he felt her tight and wet around him.

Marie was panting, the grip she had on his t-shirt tightening as she fought to keep her self-control. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked at her flushed face, watching with dark eyes as her full lips parted to let out a quiet moan. “Because you want it, darlin’. You just can’t admit it.”

She started pulsing around him, her mouth opening in a silent cry as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her body shook as the orgasm ripped through her, Logan keeping his fingers inside her as she came.

“I didn’t —” She struggled to find her voice, her breath coming out in ragged gasps, “I didn’t want it.”

Logan slowly pulled his hand out from inside her underwear, displaying fingers still covered in her juices. “Then why’d you come, Marie?”

She had no answer, shoving against his chest as she tried to get away from him. “You bastard.”

He stepped back, dropping his arm to allow her to storm off down the corridor. He raised the covered fingers to his nose, inhaling deeply. The tantalizing scent had him just about coming in his jeans, and for a moment he considered licking his fingers clean as he jerked off. His face darkened as he looked down the corridor towards Allerdyce’s cell. He checked to see if Marie was still within his sights before he went back to the cell, making sure to only use his clean hand as he swiped himself in.

Pyro raised his head, and Logan was unable to keep the predatory grin from his face as he stepped inside the cell.

Logan kept his sticky, fragrant hand behind his back, kicking the door to the cell shut. He stopped within arm’s reach of Pyro, the predatory grin still on his face. “Did you enjoy seeing her, Allerdyce?”

Pyro kept his mouth shut, and his expression neutral.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “A little gratitude wouldn’t go astray, you know.” He raised his other hand, extending one of the claws. “But I guess I could always teach you a lesson in manners, right?”

Pyro swallowed, his face hardening as he sneered. “Thank you.”

Logan retracted the claw, squatting before Pyro. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

The younger man looked away, and Logan couldn’t blame him. Truth was, he still had a raging hard-on and there was only one thing that was going to get rid of it: burying every single inch inside Marie, having her pulsing, and warm, and wet around him. No amount of jerking off was about to relieve the problem, not when his fingers were still covered in her juices, the scent threatening to drive him mad.

He reached forward, his clean hand grabbing Pyro’s face to make the little shit look him in the eye. “I gotta tell you, though, she must not have been too impressed by the state of you. She just had me get her off not three feet from your new home.” He pulled Pyro closer, trying not to gag at the stench of his blood. “You want a little treat?”

Pyro tried to pull away, but Logan’s grip tightened.

“Settle down, boy. This ain’t something you’re gonna want to turn down.” Logan lifted his soiled fingers to Pyro’s nose. “Smell that? That’s her. Bet it’s been a long time since you got to smell something so fuckin’ sweet. You ever get to taste her?”

Pyro’s eyes were fixed on Logan’s fingers, and Logan could smell the desire start to roll off the kid. If he wasn’t holding him by the throat, Logan was pretty sure he would have tried to suck his fingers. Well, the fire starter wasn’t going to get that chance.

Logan raised the fingers to his mouth, his tongue coming out for a quick taste as he kept his eyes on Pyro, watching his reaction. “She tastes fine, doesn’t she?” One by one, he sucked his fingers clean, fighting to stop his eyes from rolling back into his skull. Christ, she really did taste like heaven. “Mmm… You never answered my question. Did you ever get to taste her?”

Pyro’s eyes were still fixed on Logan’s fingers, but he managed a nod. The admission earned him a backhand across the face.

***
Marie hadn’t even made it into the elevator. She was still standing across from it, her face streaked with tears, her eyes red from crying. The pain had been quickly replaced by anger, and she scrubbed at her wet face. She hated herself for what had just happened —hated that she couldn’t control her reaction to Logan’s touch, that her body so easily betrayed her true feelings. Now that she wasn’t standing there with the man’s hand down her pants, she could think of a hundred different things to say. She needed to yell at him, curse him out and get rid of some of the blame.

She took a deep breath, turning on her heel and retracing her steps back to the cell. As she took the final turn, she resolved that this time she wouldn’t allow him to pull anything. This time she’d be able to say her piece.

The sound of voices from inside John’s cell made her pause, and Logan’s words carried to her ears.

“You like those chains, Matchstick? You should see 'em on her. Oh, yeah, cut that pretty little nightgown off her and watch her beg for it and try to touch me while she's cuffed to the bed.”

Marie’s cheeks flushed at his words, her eyes widening as he practically purred in contentment at the false memories.

“Hell, if I didn't tie her up sometimes, she'd tear me to pieces when we fuck... the girl's a fuckin' animal, and they think I'm wild! Shit, and the way she looks over her shoulder when she's down on her hands and knees, just beggin' for it — little wildcat, my Marie.”

She turned around, her back against the door. He had just referred to her as his Marie. And the things he was saying … no one made up shit like that, so detailed. It had to be a fantasy. His fantasy. Her skin turned a deeper shade of red, desire rolling through her body as Logan filled her mind with vivid images of what he wanted to do to her.

***

Logan growled. “My Marie. You got that, bub? I'm the one she spreads those smooth white thighs for, I'm the one whose back she rips to shreds every fuckin' night. Aw, you gonna cry, Johnny-boy? That's what happens when you play with fire — you get burnt.”

Logan took a breath, letting his words sink into Allerdyce’s brain. His nostrils flared as something familiar started tugging at him from beneath the stench of Pyro’s blood. He straightened up, taking a couple of quiet steps towards the door. He inhaled again, hazel eyes darkening. She was out there, on the other side of the door, and her scent was drenched with arousal. He raised an eyebrow, a grin appearing. Marie listening to every single word, and not only that — she was getting off on it.

He turned back to Pyro, and decided to kick things up a notch. “Ya know, Johnny, it's too damn bad for you I got to her first — you know, now she's touchable and all — 'cause damn does she love to be touched. Got the softest, sweetest skin you'd ever wanna lick,” his tongue came out to drag over his bottom lip and he continued to grin at Pyro, “and don't think I ain't licked every square inch of her. Oh, and you should see her when she knots her fingers all up in my hair and pushes me down between her thighs.”

***

Marie was panting, her eyes hooded as she listened to every word, her nerves tingling. She hadn’t even noticed that her hand had slipped into her jeans, her fingers sliding between her soft curls. Her breath hitched as she started rubbing her clit and her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she tried to keep from moaning.

“And she just loves it when I go down on her. Mmm, yeah, she gets so wet when I push my tongue into her pretty little pink pussy, screams my name out like she's tryin' to break windows. Swears like a dock fulla sailors, too, right before she comes.”

***

Logan cocked his head, picking up a quiet moan on the other side of the door. Not to mention that her musk had shot right up, her scent driving him wild. It was all he could do not to wrench open the door at that moment and fuck her brains out, but he wasn’t done just yet.

“It's a real sight, boy — shame you're never gonna get to experience that. Bucks her hips so hard I gotta hold her down, and she thrashes and moans and squeezes her thighs 'round my head... shit. Talkin' about it's makin' me wanna go have a go at her.” He walked over to the door, his hand running over the surface as he looked back at Pyro. “She's out there right now, ya know... I could just open this door and grab her and pull her in here, and wouldn't she be happy about that? Loves a good quick fuck, my girl does. Anywhere, anytime — and only with me.”

Logan watched as Pyro turned his head, desperate to break eye contact. But his scent … his scent was full of conflict. And conflicting desires. “How would that make you feel, Allerdyce? Watching me fuck your ex-girlfriend right here and now? Be honest, there’s a small part of you that wants it to happen, isn’t there?”

Pyro’s chains rattled as he tried to turn away from Logan, but as soon as he heard the door to the cell open, his head snapped up to see if she really was out there.

Logan chuckled, looking down at Marie. She’d been sitting on the floor, leaning against the door and the second he’d opened it; she’d fallen back. Her hand was inside her jeans and underwear, her back arching as she moaned.

Logan stepped back, giving Pyro a clear view. “That’s the thing about my girl, Allerdyce. Even when she knows what I’m doing to you — what’s been going on in here — she still can’t help herself. See the way she’s touchin’ herself? It’s because she’s imagining it’s me touchin’ her, and she’s imagining all the things I can do to her.” Logan crouched next to Marie, his hand stroking her long, silky mane. “You don’t have to do that anymore darlin’, I’m here to take care of you now. Would you like that?”

Her reply was a dragged out moan, her dark eyes begging for him as her back arched painfully. Logan smiled, grabbing her wrist roughly as he pulled it out from her jeans. Marie let out a groan that bordered on a choked sob, her hands clutching Logan’s t-shirt awkwardly as he lifted her to her feet. He shifted her grip so it was on his shoulders; crouching before her he undid her jeans, stripping them to her feet in a motion that took her twice-soaked panties as well. He got her shoes off, grunting at her to lift each leg as he pulled the garments off completely, leaving her to stand before him naked from the waist down. Her legs were still unsteady, and he turned her around, holding one arm across her chest and the other splayed over her stomach as he stood behind her. He was making sure that Pyro could see every inch of her; and every inch of him. Together.

After a moment, the hand on her stomach slid down over her smooth skin, and Logan felt her body tense as she sucked in a breath. His fingers teased at the soft curls, his face nuzzled against her hair as he breathed in her irresistible scent. His fingers continued teasing, and it was only when let she out a pleading moan and started to wriggle that he slipped his fingers between her silky folds. He slowly stroked her clit, growling at the feel of her wet and already pulsing under his touch. The hand on her chest that had kept her immobile moved, and she was allowed to rest her head back onto his shoulder as he kept her upright. He slipped the hand between their two bodies, hissing out a breath as he opened his fly and freed his throbbing erection.

She began to shudder as it stroked against her lower back, and he raised his eyes from her reaction to check if Pyro was watching. He was, eyes full of pain as they rested on Marie’s face, darted down to her slippery thighs, and were transfixed by the convulsive jerk of her hips. It wasn’t enough. Logan lifted his hand, pulling her hair away from her neck and exposing the porcelain flesh. He growled to gain Pyro’s attention, and then sank his teeth into her neck. She let out a gasp as her body went rigid. He savoured the coppery tang of her blood, and the shock in Pyro’s scent, as he pushed down on her back, forcing her body forward. A bellow, and he thrust his hips to bury himself within her.

Licking at the bite, soothing it, Logan pulled out until he could see the very tip of his cock, and then slammed back into her. His free hand slipped under her shirt, his fingers teasing at her nipple. Her hand came up to cover his; forcing him to increase the pressure he was exerting on the hardened nub — her silent demand for more being readily answered.

Marie’s fingers dug into her thigh as he slammed into her again. “Oh God, Logan.”

She clenched around him as he withdrew once more, moaning loudly as he slammed back in. His grunts and growls filled her ears, his arms around her the only thing keeping her upright as the sensations threatened to overwhelm her. She opened her eyes, her hooded gaze meeting Pyro’s. As she watched him try to turn away, she clenched around Logan again. She fought the impulse at first, but as her eyes held his, the bitterness erupted. Watch me, you bastard. Watch this mutant, this God among mutants, make me scream. Make me beg. Make me forget I ever wanted you. “Harder,” she commanded.

Logan responded to her command, slamming into her almost brutally. He did it again, and again, and again, her moans starting to turn into cries as she began to tremble and pulse around him. Orgasm tore through her body, her hands clutching for Logan’s as she shuddered, screaming out his name as she came. He slammed into her one more time, climaxing with a hoarse roar as he came hard, spilling inside her.

Pyro had tried to turn his head, tried to keep from looking as that animal fucked Rogue, but it hadn’t worked. He closed his eyes, but that didn't stop her moans from filling his ears, her scream echoing in his mind. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but Logan had been right. A very small part of him had wanted this to happen — had wanted to see Rogue naked and writhing in pleasure. But not like this. The one man he had always hated. The one man she had always wanted, if only in secret. He could see an unguarded truth in the frenzied slam of their bodies, and that was worse than the physical torture Logan had inflicted. It threatened to break him.

Sometimes Logan wondered if he was still sane. A sane man shouldn’t enjoy the blood, the pain, quite so much. He had been hard even before he smelt Marie outside that door, and it wasn’t just the smell and taste of her juices that did it.

Violence. Domination. Marks of the man he once had been. Sex. In his feral, fucked-up head, the link was inescapable. Just another tool to serve that need. Just another visceral response to being meaner, harder, smarter than any other motherfucker. It sickened him that he had used Marie that way. Displayed her like a trophy, or the spoils of war. And it sickened him that he needed to do that to Pyro. Giving the kid a scare was one thing. Fucking his girlfriend and smearing her cum across his face was another.

It reeked of perversions he had thought were under lock and key, but something had shattered that lock. Was it the Professor’s death? Having to kill Jean? Or just the long days of struggle to keep the school open, the team operating? Logan despaired. Maybe he just wasn’t the man they thought he was. The man they needed him to be. The man he wanted to be.

He could smell emotion and sense lies, but Logan would have denied the tears, if he had ever known they were there.

***

Logan looked down at the piece of paper he held in disbelief. He had made a promise to try and contribute more to the running of things at the mansion, and that had translated into his volunteering to repaint the hall in a more welcoming shade of yellow; organise the retiling of the roof, and hire an entirely new kitchen staff. And just in case he was tempted to forget, he had a professionally printed list complete with letterhead to remind him of the tasks.

He forced the frown from his face by thinking of the equally mammoth set of chores Ororo and Hank were facing. At least he got to play in the Danger Room. Taking over the training programme would be a gift, if for no other reason than it would let him blow off steam.

He knew precisely why he needed the workout. He'd been on a constant state of sexual alert since fucking Marie. His body refused to forget what his mind was trying to block out – even in a room filled with X-men, he couldn’t suppress his shudder of need. His eyes closed, and all he could see was Marie. His fingers tingled with the memory of running over her porcelain skin, and his tongue ran over teeth that had sunk deep into that fine, silky smooth flesh.

“Logan?”

His eyes snapped open at the sound of his name, pupils still dilated as he tried to focus on Ororo. She was looking at him curiously, and he wondered how long she had been talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I was interested in your assessment of the team—strengths and weaknesses, who might need help, how you’re planning on running the program…”

Right. He could do that. On one hand, he ticked off the names, facts, and vital statistics of each team member. He’d read Scott’s reports, seen most of the team train in the Danger Room, and fought with them at Alcatraz. He reached Marie, and his head snapped up, hazel eyes narrowing as he realised for the first time that she wasn’t there.

His face transformed into a scowl. “Where the fuck is Marie?”

All heads turned towards Logan, but his eyes stayed on Ororo. He didn’t feel comforted by the way she shifted ever so slightly in her seat, her eyes darting towards McCoy before she looked back at Logan.

“She is human now. I’m not sure that she’d be an asset to the team.”

He raised an eyebrow at this, fighting to keep the snarl back. He settled for sneering. “That’s bullshit and you know it. I’ve read over Summers’ reports, and I’ve seen them train. Marie is the best hand-to-hand fighter you got,” he growled.

“Her problem solving skills are by far the best of the juniors – hell, she’d do well on the senior team. She's a quick thinker in the field, a real strategist, and with me training her,” Logan scoffed, “they'll never see her coming.”

“Her mutation wasn’t exactly being worked into the whole team dynamic in the first place, except for drainin’ the tin man when there were bullets around.” He pushed off the wall, his arms dropping to his sides as his hands clenched into fists. “So, I’ll ask you again — shouldn’t she be here for this?”

Ororo held his gaze. "I've asked her to come in to outline her future plans. If she feels the X-men can be a part of that, then we must try to honour her commitment."

Logan’s nostrils flared, picking up Marie’s scent on the other side of the door. “So why don’t we ask her?”

Ororo gave him a curt nod, her voice raising slightly. “Marie, you can come in now.”

Marie opened the door, stepping inside the office. Her eyes briefly met Logan’s, and she gave him a small smile. He inclined his head, watching her carefully as she began to fidget nervously – only he knew it, but her fingers were combing through her hair to make sure it covered the marks he had left on her. Once, he would have moved behind her in a gesture of support, but that made him dismiss the thought. He had given into his urges, in the process defiling a precious friendship built on trust. Now, he had no idea if she would still see him as a source of support, or as a deranged predator.

Ororo cleared her throat. “I gather you heard at least part of the discussion?”

Marie nodded, clasping her hands behind her back. “Yes, Ms Mun—Ororo.”

Storm leant back in her seat, her arms folding across her chest. “Do you feel you can handle staying on the team, continuing your training?”

Marie’s cheeks had started to pink up, and Logan couldn’t stand by any longer. He moved next to her, starting to raise his hand to place it on her shoulder, but he dropped it. He wasn’t there to be her father, or protector, or even her lover. At the moment he was her colleague, offering nothing but support. He prayed she got the silent message.

She glanced at his face, and for a fleeting moment, smiled. The blush receded and she turned back to Ororo, no longer the schoolgirl supplicant. Instead, she was proud —and confident. “Yes. I can. Of course I can. And it's as important for you as it is for me,” she stated firmly. “If you don't have a human member, why should anyone believe you are fighting for humanity, as well as mutant rights?”

Ororo's mouth dropped open, while Shadowcat was speechless with outrage. McCoy, Logan noted, looked proud at the diplomatic coup, and Iceman and Colossus seemed to be thinking with their cocks. She definitely had their vote. Her yellow friend was nodding in support, and the winged kid, Warren, seemed to be smiling, apparently just as amused as Logan by the group’s reactions.

Marie raised her eyebrows at their shock, and then smiled, the mile-wide, sugar sweet smile of a bonafide Southern belle. “Besides which, I owe everyone here so much,” she said, looking around the room. “The Professor so much. His dream was my dream too, you know. I just want the chance to work with y'all to make it happen.” Her voice dropped low. “You've been into battle without me once. I won't let it happen again.”

She shot a glance at Logan as she waited for some kind of reaction. He gave her a barely perceptible nod, acknowledging her words, but obviously biding his time to make any kind of verbal acknowledgement unless she needed it.

Hank cleared his throat, clapping his hands together once. “Well, I think the young lady brings up an excellent point. I, for one, can certainly see how it would be beneficial for us at this point in time to have her on the team. And I think the press would have a field day with it! Perhaps we could actually gain some positive coverage.” He turned to look at Storm. “Don’t you agree, Ororo?”

Logan watched Storm, readying himself to defend Marie, forcefully if necessary, but Ororo surprised him by nodding.

“Yes, Hank, I do.” Her eyes met Marie’s. “I’ll admit that I had never anticipated your wanting to stay on. I had been prepared to help you in anyway possible to get on with, well, with whatever could be called a ‘normal’ life. If being on the team is what you want — then I’m not going to stop you. In fact, I’ll help you every step of the way,” the weather goddess said with a quiet smile. Then her voice turned steely. “However, you must be prepared to do any extra training that may be required of you. I’ll leave it up to Logan to keep me informed of your progress. If either of us feel that you can’t keep up, you must understand that we can’t afford to keep you on.”

Marie nodded eagerly, smiling. “Of course, I understand. Thank you.”

“Wait a minute, you can’t be serious!” Kitty looked from Marie to Ororo. “Tell me you’re not serious. She took the Cure, she gave up her mutation and you’re letting her stay? How the hell is she supposed to help? It’s just going to wind up being extra work for us — trying to keep her from getting killed.” She shot an angry glance at Bobby. “Don’t tell me you agree with this?”

He simply raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, while managing to look guilty for abandoning Rogue. Kitty rolled her eyes, huffing.

Logan snarled, advancing a couple of steps closer to the petite brunette. “I think you better shut that mouth of yours, Pryde. I don’t care if you can phase through anything — the day you actually beat Marie during combat training, then we’ll talk. So far all you’ve done is wind up on your back,” his gaze flicked to Drake, “but I guess you’re used to that.”

Ororo cleared her throat. “Logan, please.”

He returned to his place beside Marie, his eyes still on Kitty. Her cheeks had gone bright red, her eyes now on the floor.

“Well, if no one else has any objections, I think the matter is settled.” Ororo looked at each person in the room, offering them one more chance to speak up. “Fine. I think this also brings us to the end of the meeting, so thank you all for coming.”

Bobby and Kitty were the first out of the room, Kitty’s eyes fixing on the ground as she walked between Logan and Marie. Peter came up to Marie to congratulate her on deciding to stay with the team, and Logan turned away, falling into step with Hank as he left the office.

He cleared his throat, a hand running through his unruly locks as he glanced from side to side to see if anyone was listening. “I need a favour.”

Hank paused, turning to regard Logan. “Do I want to know?”

Logan shrugged, the guilt that suddenly made its presence felt making him unable to meet McCoy’s gaze. “Probably not, but there’s no one else who can help.”

Hank removed his glasses. “I see. I also take it by your constant looking around that you do not wish this conversation to be overheard?”

Logan nodded. He almost sighed in relief when Hank gestured towards his office, following the blue haired doctor.

Before they stepped inside, Logan grabbed his arm. “I need you to promise me something first.”

Hank raised an eyebrow, not liking the sound of what Logan was asking, but he had to admit his curiosity was well and truly piqued. “What?”

Logan glanced around again; still not sure he was doing the right thing. “I need you not to tell anyone about what you’ll see, or what you’ll smell.”

Hank’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded. “I give you my word.”

***

Hank stepped inside the cell, his eyes carefully watching the prisoner. When Pyro showed no sign of moving, Hank closed the door. As he took a steadying breath, his head cocked as his nostrils flared. He could smell Pyro’s blood, but mixed with it was the scent of…

“Oh my stars and garters,” he muttered.

There was no mistaking the strong odour of sex, and Hank wondered what exactly had been going on here. He could discern Logan’s recognisable scent, and that of a female. There was a certain familiarity to it, and his eyes widened slightly as he finally placed it. It was Marie, the young brunette who had just fought for her place in the team. No wonder Logan had been adamant about the secrecy.

Pyro had lifted his head to regard the intruder, and he had seen the furry beast’s eyes widen, seen the way his nostrils had flared. He had no doubt that the beast had worked out at least part of what had been going on, and he bristled at the idea that anyone else would know of his humiliation at the hands of Logan and Rogue.

His brow lowered, his mouth forming a sneer. “I’m pretty sure visiting hours are over, so I’m afraid you’ll have to come back later.”

Hank looked at him, eyes narrowing. “Just as well I’m not a visitor then, isn’t it? I was told that you were in need of some medical attention, and as much as it pains me to be here, I did take an oath after all.”

He closed the gap, trying not to betray his shock at seeing what Logan had done to the young man. The animal part of him felt like baring its teeth, and gloating at seeing Magneto’s right hand man in pain. The more compassionate human was aghast.

Crouching beside Pyro, Hank opened his black case. He pulled his glasses from the breast pocket of his jacket, before he gently removed Pyro’s shirt to expose the wounds. His ears caught the sharp intake of breath Pyro tried to conceal. His eyes drifted down to the wound in his leg, and he made a quiet noise of disapproval. Despite his agreeing to do Logan a favour, he feared that a word with the man might be in order once he was finished here.

Hank took Pyro’s chin in his large blue hand, pulling the young mutant forward in order to inspect the broken nose. “How long ago was this done?”

Pyro raised an eyebrow. “How the fuck should I know?”

Hank sighed, regretful that Logan’s rough treatment hadn’t softened the boy’s attitude. Then again, it also meant that Pyro was strong enough to withstand what Logan had put him through, and Hank had to admit that that was quite impressive.

“We’ll just skip over the formalities then, shall we?” He reached into his bag, pulling out a series of instruments, disinfectant, local anaesthetic and bandages. He flashed Pyro a toothy grin. “Now, some of this may hurt, but we’ll soon have you fixed up in no time.”

Pyro closed his eyes, resting his head on the wall. He heard the sound of scissors as McCoy cut open the leg of his pants. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching as the blue doctor dabbed on the disinfectant, sucking in a sharp breath at the sudden sting. It angered him that he was showing weakness in front of one of the X-Men, but it was unavoidable.

He was fighting both his injuries and fatigue: he hadn’t been able to get any rest; his thoughts plagued with images of Rogue and Logan. Of her looking directly at him as she screamed that animal’s name. When his eyes were shut like they were now, he could see every detail of that scene. He saw her arch into Wolverine’s thrusts, saw the way her nails dug into her own skin, saw the way her lips had parted with every moan… She could touch, and be touched — and that bastard was the one doing it.

Pyro grunted, his head jerking as his eyes snapped open. “What the fuck?”

Hank grimaced, his fingers still on Pyro’s nose. “I apologise, but I did warn you. Now please hold still, it’ll hurt a lot less.”

Pyro raised an eyebrow, clenching his jaw as he kept his eyes on McCoy. Truth was, no amount of pain could come even close to what he felt when he thought of Rogue fucking Logan, or the way she’d been lying there with her hand down her pants and her fingers working as she moaned, all the while thinking of Wolverine. Pyro blinked rapidly, refusing to acknowledge the sting of unshed tears in his eyes. He didn’t need Logan seeing it when he returned, as he knew he would. And he wasn’t sure he could bear it if Rogue came back with him. The pain of his injuries faded into insignificance at the mere thought of it.

***

Marie’s legs were already burning as she fought to keep pace with Colossus. She wanted to call out to Pete, get him to slow down a little, but they couldn’t — not when they had soldiers on their tail. She kept her head forward, knowing that if she took the time to turn around, it’d just slow her down. She cursed her human legs, trying to remember if her muscles had ever hurt this bad when she had her mutation. The thought caused John’s words to echo in her mind, and her steps faltered. He’d probably take pleasure in seeing her fail at this. It’d do nothing more than prove his point.

Her face hardened as she pushed her body further, determined to prove him wrong. She hated him for what he’d said to her, for the way he’d looked at her. Yesterday with Logan, when she'd been in the cell, it had been about revenge. She'd forced him to confront her humanity, forced him to witness what she could do now. At least, that was how it had started...

Bullets whizzed past her ears and she swore, altering her course to follow Colossus as he ducked behind a crumbling wall. She covered her head with her hands; crouching low as the soldiers continued to shower them with bullets.

“Fucking FoH.”

She smiled, amused that battle always seemed to cause an increase in Pete’s use of profanities. “Couldn’t agree more, Petey.”

He touched a hand on her back, making her look up. “You okay?”

She nodded, taking a couple of deep breaths as the soldiers seemed to be taking a break to reload. “Yeah.”

He turned his attention back to the soldiers, watching them carefully. Marie closed her eyes, heat rushing through her body as the memory of Logan fucking her appeared before her eyes. She bit her lip, trying to keep from moaning at the feelings it conjured up. Yeah, it had started as revenge on John. She’d made sure she held his gaze, made sure he saw everything, saw what pleasure Logan was bringing her, but then it was just all about Logan. Her body trembled slightly as she thought about the orgasm that tore through her body, and the way she'd screamed out in pure bliss.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

She blinked; suddenly back in the present. She turned to look at Colossus, following his eye line.

She saw a path of ice begin to spread in front of them. “Those fuckers.” She couldn’t believe it. Bobby and Kitty were cutting off their escape route. She and Pete wouldn’t be able to make the rendezvous at the Blackbird.

Pete’s head snapped back to look at the soldiers. “And right in front of the FoH’ers. Why don’t they just put up a big flashing neon sign, saying: ‘Hey, come get the target!’”

Marie started chewing her lip, her eyes darting from the mercenaries, to where Kitty and Bobby were hiding with the kid they’d been charged to collect. Calculating odds and exploring options, she scanned the terrain, knowing there must be some way to outwit the enemy.

Her hand touched Pete’s arm, and she nodded towards a truck about ten feet from where they were. “If we can get to that, we can get out of here. It would also draw the attention of those FoH’ers away from those selfish dicks.”

Pete looked at her. “There’s no cover, and I can’t protect you.”

Marie nodded, her expression one of determination. “I know. Let’s just hope the FoH’ers are lousy shots.” She turned back to check the position of the mercenaries, and then looked back at Pete. “Ready to go on my mark?”

Colossus armoured up, nodding. Marie silently counted to five in her head, waiting until the FoH’ers had started turning towards Kitty and Bobby’s location before she broke cover, running as fast as she could towards the truck. She didn’t dare look back, especially not when the bullets started whizzing past her again. Colossus grunted as a few hit him, but they easily ricocheted off his body armour. He soon overtook her, turning when he got to the truck and holding his hand out to her, yelling for her to grab it. Marie reached out, her hand inches from his as a bullet pierced her abdomen. She fell to the ground, her crumpled form motionless.

Up in the control room, Logan froze, his gut twisting at the sight of Marie collapsing. With the birds-eye view of the sim, Logan had started swearing and cursing the minute ice had begun to creep across the ground towards the Blackbird where Angel and Jubilee were waiting. As soon as he realised Iceman and Shadowcat had started to deviate from the plan, he’d automatically sought out Marie. He’d heard the exchange between her and Colossus, his anger growing at the fact that they’d been left with no option but to sacrifice themselves as decoys for their shit-for-brains teammates. And now Marie was a casualty.

His mind went back to the fight at Liberty Island, the moment when he’d held her lifeless body in his arms. He remembered running his hand through those damn white streaks of hers, remembered holding her against him. He’d thought he’d failed in protecting her, thought he’d lost her for good. The pain he’d felt when her mutation started feeding off of his was nothing compared to the sheer joy he’d felt in knowing she was alive again.

Now though, she was human. And as much as he wanted to rush down there and save her again, he couldn’t. There was fuck all he could do except stand by and watch, and it was hurting him more than he cared to admit. This girl had weaselled her way into his life, his heart, and his fucking head — and now she was gone. He choked back a howl, his claws releasing.

“Jubes, get the fucking ramp down—we’re coming up now!”

Logan’s head snapped towards the control deck. That had been the Iceman.

Angel’s voice came across the line. “But Rogue and Colos—”

“They’re gone, okay? We need to get this kid out of here. He’s what matters,” a woman’s voice shrilled in panic.

Logan growled, low and menacingly. He was going to gut that Kitty and her lover the first chance he got.

“No! We can’t leave them there, what the hell are you thinking, Kitty?”

At least the firecracker was sticking up for Marie and the tin man. He listened to the comms chatter; his faith in Jubilee fast dissolving as Kitty and Drake managed to talk her into leaving. He snarled, his hand slamming into one of the larger buttons in front of him. The simulation disappeared, and he stood there, his fists clenching and unclenching. If he didn't calm down, he knew for certain that there were gonna be a few body parts cluttering up the Danger Room when he got there. He took a deep breath, his eyes on the now blue floor of the Danger Room. He watched as Marie shook off the effects of the taser, getting to her feet unsteadily as Pete went to help her. Another growl came from Logan, his grief turning to anger. How could she do that to him? How could she be so fucking stupid?

He turned on his heel, storming from the control room. He cursed with every step, muttering to himself angrily. He stood before the Danger Room doors, running a hand through his hair. He took several deep breaths, trying to leash his anger. He pushed the button, walking through the doors.

“All of you over here, now.”

The six younger mutants scrambled to gather around him, and he glared at each one in turn. “So,” he pointed a finger at Marie, disappointment plain on his face, “you’re dead, and you two,” his finger moved to Kitty as his eyes flicked between her and Drake, “took off without half your team to save your own fucking useless skins.” He looked at Jubilee. “For a moment I thought you were actually doing okay, then you went and lost your backbone and caved into peer pressure.” He looked at Angel. “You just seemed to sit in the pilot’s chair not doing much of anything.” He looked up at Pete, raising an eyebrow. “As for you, Tin Man, you’re about the only one who actually did well.”

He looked over the group again, his hazel eyes narrowing at Kitty as she started to open her mouth. “I don’t even want to hear what your fucking excuses are. Disastrous doesn’t even begin to cover it. Hit the showers and don’t come near me until the next session. That’ll be in exactly twenty-fours hours from now, got it? We’ll be having at least one a day until you lot get your act together.” The group just stood there, exchanging nervous glances. Logan snarled. “GO!”

They filed past him, heads bowed. He was pleased to note that Kitty and Bobby took care to give him a wide berth and avoided meeting his gaze. He looked at Marie and Pete, part of him wanting to say something else to her, tell her that he only pushed her so hard because he couldn't take it if something were to happen, but he decided against it. He was still too disappointed at her performance, and angry with her for putting him through that amount of pain when it had just been a goddamn simulation. He headed towards the door, intent on getting out of there and going in search of beer.

“Logan!”

He turned, his eyes travelling over her body, admiring the way the leather clung to each curve. Her face was flushed from exertion, her hair falling from its ponytail. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, thrown off by his casual response. “I wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He folded his arms across his chest, turning to watch Pete leave before he turned his attention back to Marie. “So talk.”

“What happened yesterday? I mean, what was that?”

He looked at her, ignoring the sudden wave of guilt that crashed through him, in favour of old-fashioned bastardry. “You don’t really need me to draw you a diagram, do ya kid?”

She bristled at the nickname, stepping up to him. “Don’t you dare call me that, not after yesterday.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his arms dropping to his sides. “It was just sex, okay? Don’t be turning it into something else in that pretty little head of yours. It was just two people getting off, got it?” He ignored the voice in his head telling him it was two people getting off with the best fucking sex he’d ever had in his remembered existence. “Nothing more.”

Marie’s lips parted, and he thought he saw disappointment flit across her features, but they suddenly hardened. Her mouth set in a thin line of anger. “Is that right?”

His lip curled back in a sneer. “I just figured it was time to help you get over your Matchstick complex, give you a little re-education. Make sure you didn’t have too much sympathy for the enemy.”

Marie frowned. “At least he was willing to touch me before the Cure. That makes him a better man than you ever will be.”

Logan stepped up to her, growling low. “The second you stepped into my truck I’d already figured out a hundred different ways to get you off, darlin’. Including how to have those cupid bow lips wrapped around my dick. Back then though, I was trying to be the good guy, so I didn’t try anything. Guess I got sick of being the good guy. You sure as hell don’t seem to mind.”

Marie’s anger faltered, but then her lips curved into a wicked smile, her chocolate eyes narrowed at him. “So you been having fantasies about me for a while, huh?” She closed the gap between them, her body nearly pressing against his. “Should have known by the way you were yelling out my name. Nearly popped my eardrums with that roar of yours.”

She stepped around him, her boot heels clicking on the floor as she walked out. Her scent was as hot as her anger, and he watched her leave, trying not to give too much thought to the way her hips were swaying with each step, and what that did to his body.

***

Marie came out of the locker room, her fingers combing through her hair as she arranged it to cover Logan’s marks now that she wasn’t wearing her uniform, wincing slightly as her fingers brushed the sensitive flesh. She headed to the elevator, her eyes meeting Logan’s as the doors closed. He made a gesture with his hand, his finger pointing downwards. She had no doubt as to what he was asking, and she started to chew her bottom lip as she pushed the call button.

As she waited, her head filled with possibilities, heat rushing through her body at the mere thought of what had happened in the cell yesterday, and what could happen again. Her eyes were closed when the elevator arrived, and as she stepped inside, her finger hovered over the control pad. Up or down? A deep breath, and she pushed the button that would take her even lower in the mansion, her nerves beginning to tingle the closer she got to the cell. At the end of the hall, he was waiting for her, arms folded over his chest as he leant against the door. As their eyes met, he turned to swipe himself in.

Logan looked at her, his eyebrow raised. “In, or out, Marie?”

She bit her lip, only hesitating for a second before she stepped into the cell.

As Marie stepped into the cell, she knew she was sending a message. Logan had asked, and her actions had replied: despite the angry words, despite his guilt and her wide-eyed shock, she was okay with this. Whatever this might turn out to be.

The sound of chains rattling caught her attention, and she turned her head, her gaze falling on John as her lips parted with a gasp.

How was it that she had managed to neglect the fact that what happened in this room wasn’t just between her and Logan? She had been so caught up in their little game that she had momentarily forgotten that they weren’t the only ones playing. John had been there yesterday, had been forced to watch Logan fuck her. She had needed the revenge, but it was cold comfort now, and she couldn't help but consider what it must be doing to him.

Her eyes travelled over him, curiosity appearing on her face as she realised he’d been cleaned up. There were bandages on his chest; his nose was also covered. She looked down, seeking the telltale parallel cuts, but they were no longer visible. The leg of his pants had been cut open, and his upper thigh was also swathed in bandages. Brown stains dotted his body from where iodine had been applied to the smaller cuts and scratches.

She turned to look at Logan in silent question. She had no doubt that what was happening here was being kept secret. His eyes weren’t on her though; they were on John. She didn’t like the way the corner of his mouth had started to curl up.

“What's the matter, Johnny? You don't look happy to see your girl. Worried that iodine and bandages don't do it for her?”

Pyro narrowed his eyes at Logan's attempt at humour, while Marie hissed in disgust. She moved, regaining Logan’s attention with her suddenly languid posture.

“Actually, sugar, Johnny’s never had a problem doing it for me,” Marie purred, walking over and crouching in front of him, fingers tracing lightly over Pyro's newly-bandaged chest.

She ran her eyes along his bruised lip, and thought about kisses, long and slow and shrouded in silk. Thought about the things they'd whispered. She watched his eyes darken, and wanted to know. Needed to. Marie leant in, her lips lightly brushing against John’s, testing his reaction. She heard him suck in a breath, heard the rattle of his chains as his hands shifted slightly closer to her, his fingers brushing her covered leg. She pressed her lips to his, a tremor running through her body at the familiar warmth of them. She lightly traced his bottom lip with her tongue, seeking entrance, but also tasting that hint of cinnamon that belonged to John and no one else; a flavour she had missed.

He didn’t deny her, parting his lips willingly—almost eagerly. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, registering the fact he didn’t taste like his usual mouthwash. Instead of a blast of chemical mint, she was overwhelmed with his spicy flavour, stronger and more pervasive than ever. So him, it triggered a flood of memories. Her tongue explored every inch, comparing the sensation of his tongue, his teeth, the cavern of his mouth with the slippery feel of wet silk that had dulled their kisses previously. He groaned as she started to coax his tongue, one of his hands gripping her top to pull her closer. She moaned as she sucked on his tongue, her hands gripping his hair to keep her balanced. Just as he started to explore her mouth, a strong hand gripped the back of her shirt, yanking her off John. She grunted as Logan propelled her across the room, his gaze on the fire starter. His claws sprang from their housings, the sharp edges trained on Pyro’s throat before Marie could pull in a shocked breath.

Logan dragged the adamantium blades over the vulnerable flesh, hazel eyes burning into Pyro’s blue. “Don’t tempt me, boy. I’m the only reason you’re still breathing—and nobody’s gonna look if I want to cut off your cock. Maybe I’ll give it to Marie to put under her pillow, make sure that’s the last thing she’d ever see of you. I’m your only link to her, just remember that.”

John was shaking, sensing it was no idle threat. The cuts weren't deep enough to cause any real damage, but the moment Logan took the blades away, John could feel lines of blood welling from the broken skin. Another reminder of the older man’s need to dominate, three red lines across his jugular to match Marie’s twin bite marks. He wondered if there was a message in that, but the thought frightened him too much to contemplate.

Logan turned back to Marie, the traces of blood on his blades fluorescing in the harsh light. Hooded eyes pinned her, warned her. Don't push me. She hesitated, but threw back her own glare. The idiot needed a fucking push. She just had to pray he wouldn't kill John in the process.

Her lips curved, the expression closer to a sneer than a smile. “It was just two people getting off, Wolvie. Isn’t that what you said?” She advanced on him, closing the gap between them. “But, if it’s just about getting off, what's the problem, Logan? What's a little kiss?”

He held her gaze, a growl rumbling in his chest. “It's called fraternising with the enemy, darlin'. It’s dangerous and there's no fuckin' way I'm gonna let you waste your sympathy on that little prick.”

She brought her body up against his, the heat coming off her in waves. She smiled up at him, the sneer gone. The sinful curve that had replaced it did nothing to put him at ease.

“Sympathy? Is that what this is about, Logan?” Her hands unsnapped their way into his jeans, and wrapped around his cock. Hard. Always hard.

“Now, I know smacking people around gets you hot, Logan. Maybe that's all this is to you,” she shook her head, “but I don't think so. Would you like to see me touch him some more, baby? Bet that would make you harder than those old bones of yours.”

She paused to drag in a quick breath as she felt the weight of him stir in her hand. “Does it hurt? Want me to kiss it better?” His eyes flared at that, and Marie knew she’d struck gold. She smiled, running her tongue along her top lip, and her finger down the length of his cock. His hips gave a reflexive jerk at the touch, his eyes dark as they watched her. She snapped his jeans shut, fluttered her lashes, and stepped back to John's side.

Logan stared at her, his jaw clenching as he fought the urge to growl at her impertinence. She had no right to work him up like that and not follow through. He had every mind to teach her a lesson, pull her from Pyro’s side and…

And what?

Each threat that ran through his mind inevitably ended with him tearing off her clothes and fucking her into the ground. But that would imply complete surrender. He would be damned if he'd admit her tease had worked – some fucking lesson!

He growled as he moved to lean against the door, watching her interact with Pyro. How was it that he resented this fucking boy, and what he had with her? He knew nothing about jealousy, but had a growing suspicion it might feel like this.

Marie tried not to stroke John’s hair. Before he left the Mansion, they would lie there, sated by their lovemaking, and she would tease him and stroke his hair, but now, it didn't seem right. She knew he didn’t want her to show any kind of sympathy for him, didn’t want her to do anything that could be construed as pity. He was looking at her, blue eyes wary.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “What for?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

He smirked, his fingers brushing over hers. “If it’s about the kiss, it’s okay. I get it.”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow — a gesture she’d got from both men. “Is that right?”

He nodded, eyes flicking briefly to Logan. “It was for his benefit, right?”

She gave him a crooked smile. “Not entirely.”

Logan pushed off the wall, anxious to stop the conversation before it went any further. “Marie.”

She looked at him, standing up as he opened the door. She didn’t look back at John, her eyes forward as she walked out and started down the corridor. She didn’t even wait for Logan, knowing that he’d catch up with her soon enough. She couldn’t help the small smile that played across her lips. It wasn’t the power over Logan she relished. Not really. He was jealous. But was it a simple animalistic possessiveness, or was there some deeper emotion behind it?

Logan kept a couple of steps behind Marie, not even speaking to her when they were in the elevator. He wasn't sure that he'd be able to open his mouth without saying something nasty, or propositioning her. Possibly both.

*

Hank wished that he could have found Logan in a much less … aggressive mood, but he had to speak with him, and if that involved watching the Wolverine tear a Sentinel to shreds, he supposed it was far better for the Sentinel to take the beating than himself.

“Logan?”

A grunt was the only reply, Logan too intent on ripping out the innards of the monstrous machine.

“I was wondering if I might have a few words.”

Logan looked up, a piece of the Sentinel impaled on his claws. “Make it quick, McCoy.”

Hank watched as he went back to tearing the Sentinel apart. He wondered if Logan had even realised that the robot had long since ceased to function. “You asked me to keep what had happened in that cell private, and as such, I feel that it is better that I come and talk to you directly rather than —” A piece of the Sentinel flew past Hank’s head and he dodged it. He looked back at Logan. “Was that completely necessary?”

Logan flashed him a toothy grin before scowling. “Not really. Just get to the point.”

Hank sighed. He had hoped to broach the topic with at least some measure of decorum, but if Logan needed him to be direct, then so be it. “She’s very young, Logan.”

Hank stood his ground as Logan leapt off the Sentinel, closing the gap between them quickly. His claws were still unsheathed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Hank met the piercing hazel eyes, determined not to back down. “I don’t know what you are to each other, but what I sensed in that cell … Logan, I realise you want to make our enemies suffer for what they have done, but does she need to be involved?”

Logan growled, stepping in that little bit closer to Hank. “What exactly are you accusing me of, Beast?”

Hank raised his hands. “Nothing, Logan. I just think it would be best if you kept such activities confined to the bedroom in the future.” He paused; worry flitting across his features. “And I pray that it is sex, Logan. Not something else.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, hazel eyes flashing. “Not everyone in this room is a genius, Doc. Say what it is you're trying to say already, or fucking drop it.”

Hank swallowed, grimacing as he thought of how to phrase what he needed to say. It wouldn’t be wise to provoke the Wolverine while he still had the claws out. “I understand your need to punish the boy, Logan, I really do. I just want to make sure that you’re not hurting Marie as well. Both of you have to live with whatever is happening in that cell.”

Logan sheathed his claws, breaking eye contact with the doctor.

Hank started to raise a hand to place it on the other man’s shoulder, but reconsidered, nodding instead. “Just something to consider, Logan.” He turned to leave, wincing at the disconcerting soundtrack of machinery being torn apart behind him.

*

Logan refused to run despite the fact he was late for a combat training session. He was in charge, and for that reason alone he could afford to be fifteen minutes late. If, however, any students walked in after him, that would be a different matter entirely.

His session in the Danger Room had lasted longer than expected, Hank's uncomfortable observations demanding he gut an additional Sentinel or two. He stormed into the gym, hazel eyes narrowing as he checked to see if everyone was present. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Marie refused to look at him, her brow creased in a frown, mouth set in a thin line.

“Pair up, work on the drills we went through yesterday. Marie, you’re with me.”

She walked towards him, arms folded over her chest. He growled at her lack of professionalism, unable to stop himself from berating her.

“Marie, stop acting like a petulant child.”

“Fuck you, Logan,” she said, forgetting their audience.

Gasps resounded around the room, and all eyes swung to the pair. Logan, however, was oblivious.

“You wish, darlin’. Get your sweet ass over here and warm up. That's a fuckin' order.”

Marie gave him a look, brown eyes sparkling as an eyebrow raised ever so slightly. He watched with a little too much interest as she turned her back on him, her body bending forwards as her legs parted no more than two inches. Her palms were flat on the floor, and his eyes stayed fixed on her ass as he all but salivated at the sight. She pushed down a couple times, his eyes following every movement. She then slowly straightened up, his gaze dropping from her ass to where her hands were journeying up the inside of her thighs.

He became acutely aware of the fact there was no noise coming from the rest of the class. He reluctantly tore his gaze from her ass, a growl escaping him when he found all eyes trained on him and Marie.

“I'm not here to teach you how to stand around, so get the fuck back to practicing your defensive techniques.” He looked back at Marie, his brow lowering at her obvious amusement. “Let's get this over with, I got a beer and a Cuban callin' my name.”

Marie stepped up to him, settling herself into a defensive position that mirrored his. The scowl on his face lost some of its dark edge as the sound of students sparring reached his ears. He focused on Marie, watching as she started to advance on him. He dodged her first two attempts easily, his blocks stopping her from making contact. He growled at her to try a bit harder, but her response made him wary. Pissed off he could handle — the wicked smile that lingered on her face at his admonition, however, made him pause.

Marie manoeuvred in close, her hand darting past his defences to land a solid jab to his solar plexus. Logan doubled over, feigning pain to his gut. She stepped in closer, her hand coming up to deal a blow to the pressure point in his neck. He grabbed her arm before she made contact, pulling her in close as he straightened up and bent it behind her back, teeth bared as he growled. She swung around, trying to get her palm to his chin in an effort to shatter his lower jaw against his top one. He grabbed her arm before she made contact, and bent it behind her to join the other arm already pinned there. Using the twisted arm as leverage, he pulled her in close, the force behind the pull causing her to cry out in pain. The move pulled her flush against him, her breath puffing against his face. He dipped his head, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. She turned her head, teeth gnashing at his ear. He moved his head out of the way, growling low and deep as he knocked her feet from under her, and pushed her to the mat.

Moving quickly, he straddled her. Pinning her hands above her head before she'd had a chance to catch her breath, he ran a hand down her chest, his fingers stopping between her cleavage and above the breastbone, before addressing the rest of the class. “You've got two choices when your opponent is down, submission, or disable. A blow to the chest here,” the words were followed by a light jab where his fingers rested, “is a disabling blow. Enough pressure here and you break the bone.” His eyes held her gaze. “Submission is about causing pain, without lasting damage.” And we’d know all about that, wouldn’t we darlin’?

He turned to the class. “Another fifteen minutes, then hit the showers.”

*

Logan waited until the last of the students left the locker room before entering. He turned into the first row of lockers just in time to see Marie pull on a tank top. His gaze travelled her body, taking in the expanse of creamy skin covering her stomach before she hid it beneath the black material.

She placed her hands on her hips, looking at him. “Something I can help you with, sugar?”

Logan frowned as he closed the gap between them, a finger pointed at her. “You don’t ever bring our personal life into the classroom again. Be a fucking professional, Marie.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You were the one smelling my hair and straddling me, darlin’. How was that keeping it professional?”

“You were the one being a fuckin’ tease, so don’t put it on me.”

She stepped in close, her head tilted so she could look up at him. “Felt good though, didn’t it, baby?” Her hand ran from his belt buckle, up his chest. She pressed her palm against him. “Not having to worry about whether you were hurting me, or not? Just letting go…”

He grabbed her wrist, backing her up until he had her pressed against a locker. He glared at her, remembering how she had bent over and waved her ass in his face. He felt the heat that had started percolating in class increase yet another notch, and then reach boiling point. It mixed with the anger he felt at her forcing him to be rough with her, and the guilt at how much he had enjoyed making her cry out. Perving on her, lusting after her, in full view of the class, no less.

Then her tongue came out to wet her lips, and he dipped his head to press his lips to hers. He felt her free hand slip under his singlet, her fingers running over the sharply defined muscles of his abdomen. He trailed his tongue over her bottom lip, his hand tangling in her dark tresses. She parted her lips, a moan escaping her as his tongue entered her mouth. He started to explore her depths, but she started pushing against his tongue with hers, stopping his attempt to gentle her into submission. He growled quietly, his grip on her hand tightening. She pulled back, breaking the kiss before moving in again. Her teeth caught his bottom lip as she nipped at it, trying to draw blood. He tugged on her hair, pulling her back. He stared at her, hazel eyes searching brown before his mouth crashed against hers. He pushed his tongue past her lips, probing and demanding, this time offering no chance to go slow, to stop, even to breathe. The hand under his singlet moved, her fingers starting to slide beneath the band of his jeans. He quickly pulled back, breaking the kiss as he caught her hand before she went too far.

She looked at him. “I shouldn't like it so much, should I Logan? But you were beating someone to a pulp the first time I ever saw you, and I...” She blushed, unable to explore the motivations of her teenage self. “I can't help it, but God, seeing you like that, seeing you wild...”

The flood of her arousal finished the sentence like no words ever could. Logan gave an internal howl. She liked that! She liked him!

He leant in close, his mouth next to her ear. “Meet me down there tonight. 11pm. Wear…” He thought a moment and then gave in to the fantasy as he brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. “Your green coat. Nothing else.”

“Your green coat. Nothing else.”

Marie shivered, and it wasn’t because she was naked under the coat. She was 17, sitting at a bar, and the cage fighter had just sat down beside her. Her heart lurched with the memory.

She’d seen him in the cage. Seen those muscles working beneath his skin, and all she’d been able to think about was wrapping her legs around his naked waist as he took her against the side of the cage. Those muscles would ripple under his skin as she ran her hands over the bare flesh. Those arms would support her effortlessly as she writhed and bucked and arched her back against the steel mesh …

Her body grew warm at the images the memory provoked. She quietly made her way through the mansion, the coat hugged tightly around herself to ensure that no one would catch a glimpse of what she wasn’t wearing underneath.

Her heart thumped in anticipation, but there were no other signs of nervousness. Her body tingled with the excitement of what was to come, any thoughts of hesitation long gone. This is what she wanted, what she needed. She wanted him to stop denying her. To stop thinking that she wasn’t willing in all this.

Before she rounded the corner, she pulled up her hood. He was waiting, lounging against the door to the cell. Face shuttered, but eyes hot as they tracked her progress towards him. As she drew close, he straightened, his arms dropping to his sides. She almost smiled at the familiar leather jacket he wore, but another rush of memory kept her face neutral.

It hadn't been the tip jar she'd been looking at when the barman told her to stick to water. She'd been looking at the bar top, imagining what the Wolverine could do to her if he had her on top of it. Would he simply drop his jeans and pull her ass to the edge, or would he spread her out and cover her? She’d looked up to find him studying her through lowered brows, and for a moment, she was sure he could see into her dirty mind. But then her eyes had taken in the leather jacket he now wore, and she had a new detail to add to her fantasy. The feel of the worn leather being run over her skin, the cool varnish a contrast under her back as he —

Logan’s nostrils flared at the sudden spike in her scent, hazel eyes noticing that she was looking at his jacket. “What’re ya thinkin’, darlin’?”

She looked up at him from beneath the hood. “You’d be shocked if you knew.”

He turned and swiped them in. “Doubt that. Sounds more like I’d enjoy it.”

John stood as they entered; clenching his jaw at the pain it caused his leg. This time, he was determined not to just sit there and take it. He knew Logan wanted to fuck with him, but he knew how Marie operated as well. His eyes widened at the sight of Marie in the green coat, his blue eyes flicking between her and Logan.

He knew what that coat meant. It was what she’d worn on the road. What she’d worn when she’d first met Logan. What she’d worn back when she was barely 17. Disgust contorted his handsome features, his lips curling into a sneer as he looked at them. Every bit the lecherous old man, and the young maid.

“You always wanted to do this, didn’t you? Even back then you were thinking up ways to fuck an innocent young girl. Must just eat you up that I got there first, huh? She’s no longer the delicate little virgin.”

Logan’s eyes dropped to the ground, guilt threatening to swallow him whole. A part of him – the honest part – knew that some of what Pyro was saying was true.

“You talk about what the two of you were doing, but you never knew what we did. Had to get real creative, what with Roguey having her powers, and all. She made entirely different noises when I had her.”

Logan’s head snapped up, hazel eyes flashing as he growled.

Pyro ignored him, his attention now on Marie. “Look at you. He’s made you into a whore, his dirty little plaything. How could you let him pervert you this way?”

She crossed the floor, closing the gap between her and John before Logan had a chance to stop her. She pushed the hood back, revealing her white streaks.

Her chocolate eyes held his gaze, an eyebrow quirked as her hand trailed down his bandaged chest. “So, he’s a pervert, and I’m a whore, but...” her hand travelled lower, pressing against his already hardening cock through his pants. “This is telling me you’re a voyeur. You always did like to watch me, didn’t you, Johnny? I still remember how hard you used to get when I’d touch myself.”

She turned her head for a long, assessing look at Logan. When she looked back, her eyebrow was still raised as her tongue darted out to lick the corner of her mouth. “What if you watched us right now? Would that get you hard?” She kept rubbing him, memory and skill and sheer instinct combining to coax him into places he had never wanted to go. “I never did tell you how we really met, did I, Johnny? You talk of me being the delicate little virgin, and sure, no one had touched me, but … you don’t know what I was thinking, that first time I saw him. In the cage.”

Pyro’s eyes widened, and she nodded.

“That’s right, baby. You should have seen him. Rippling muscles and as wild as they come. My momma would have blushed something fierce if she’d known the thoughts I’d entertained the moment I set eyes on the Wolverine.”

“What were ya thinkin’, darlin’?”

She turned at the sound of Logan’s husky tones, her fingers still rubbing John’s cock. “Did you know? When you came to sit next to me at the bar, did you smell it? The want?”

He nodded slowly, and had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Tell me what you were thinkin’, and we’ll do it.”

Marie turned back to John as her hand paused in its attentions to his cock. She saw the disappointment he was unable to mask before his features hardened into Pyro’s insouciance. She stepped back and walked to Logan, her fingers working the buttons on the green coat.

Logan’s eyes watched every movement, his cock stirring at the hint of naked skin. “Tell me.”

Marie looked up at him, her hand running over his jacket. “When you came to sit near me at the bar, I was thinking about you taking me on top of the counter. But I couldn’t decide whether it would be hard and fast, or slow and sensual. Maybe if I was lucky, both.” She had meant to tease, but her own body had taken over and she could barely drag her lips into a smile. They wanted to moan, instead, as she turned around to press her body flush against his.

She rubbed against Logan through the felt and the denim, biting her lip as his arm encircled her waist, his fingers slipping between her slick folds. He watched Pyro, a growl escaping his lips as he felt how wet Marie was. Her head fell back on his chest, and he nuzzled the top of her head, breathing in her scent.

“I wanted you to keep looking at me, wanted to be enough for you — someone you could desire.” She bit her lip, undulating for the pleasure of it, but desperate not to give in before she had forced him to face the truth. “But then you went through that windshield, and it was something else. The concern … it shocked me. It ran so much deeper than I could have expected. Deeper than the lust, even.”

He said nothing, but his hand was shaking as his fingers began working her clit, and she moaned. John’s eyes dropped to watch the hand between her legs as Marie started to dictate the rhythm while guiding Logan’s fingers.

“I wanted to take away the pain. In your eyes I saw the ghosts that haunted you, and all I wanted to do was make it better. But at the bar…” She trailed off as a moan escaped her lips, her hand urging Logan’s fingers deeper. Her brown eyes became hooded, her gaze no longer looking at John as she lost herself in memory. “At the bar all I could think about was having you inside me. Knowing what it would feel like to have that leather against my skin. Have my hands touching you.” Her voice cracked at the pain she’d felt then. “I wanted you so bad.”

Logan spun her around as he gripped her wrist. “On the ground now.”

Her lips parted at the edge to his voice, her eyes darkening. He released her wrist as she lowered herself to the floor. Marie stretched out, the green coat protecting her from the cool concrete. She took her arms out from inside the coat as she watched Logan loosen his belt and open the fly of his jeans. Warmth spread over her body, pooling at the juncture between her thighs as he loomed over her, cock jutting huge and purple in her field of vision. “So bad, Logan,” she murmured, mesmerised. “I want you so bad.”

She was still repeating the plea when he lowered himself over her, settling between her open legs. His hands were on either side of her head, holding his weight off of her. He shifted to balance on one hand, the other slipping inside his jacket sleeve as he ran the leather over her naked body.

She shivered at the touch, her eyes closing as she remembered scratched tables and green baize and a jar half-full of coins just inches away. The smell of stale beer and smoke filled her nostrils as the green felt beneath her body became varnished wood, and the man above her still wore the bruises from his bout in the cage.

“Wolverine.”

The name had come out in a quiet whisper. Logan stopped running the leather over her skin, his hand going back by her head. He positioned himself at her entrance, growling low and deep. Her hands gripped his jacket as he slowly, inch by inch, pushed himself inside her. He stayed there for a long moment, the feel of Marie hot and wet around him, all too welcoming.

When she started to clench around him, he withdrew in a slow motion. His eyes closed, his focus poured into keeping his movements steady as he pushed back inside her.

She had wanted him inside her, had wanted the cage fighter moving above her. She had expected it to be hard and fast to start with, perhaps expecting the brutality to be carried from the cage to the bar. To her. Her hands moved, palms flat against the leather as she ran them over his sides to settle on his back.

His breath grazed her skin, and she arched up into his closeness. The want that had been building since she had first seen him coiled tight in the pit of her stomach, and all she sought now was release. She hooked her legs behind his back, tilting her hips to take him deeper as he once again sheathed himself within her.

His arms strained with control, his ability to keep such a slow pace being tested as she began to buck and moan and beg. So tight. Virgin tight. But she was so far gone her heels were drumming in the small of his back demanding an end to it, demanding he go faster, harder. And the smell of want was so thick around him. He was drowning in her scent, and that alone threatened to undo him.

John realised he no longer existed for the couple on the floor. He had softened, at first; no longer able to convince himself that she was doing this to get back at him, to hurt him. But the heat of their coupling, the rawness of their emotion, had a force of its own, scorching away the disgust and disdain and even the envy until he found himself panting, his own hand straying towards his groin. Only his pride remained, and even that was close to surrender as he shifted to keep himself upright. He adjusted his line of sight to focus on their bodies, on the mechanics of slow, hot, sex, rather than the nakedness of their faces.

Logan couldn’t take it for much longer. One, two, could he make it three? Slow, slow, slow … the rush came and he couldn’t stop. Didn’t care. Wouldn’t stop as the world flew away and there was just a bar, and a girl, and the smell of want and promises he never thought he’d make.

“Wolverine,” came the gasp as she clenched around him. She trembled with the orgasm, clutching at the leather as she climaxed with a scream. “Logan!”

John braced himself as their frenzy stilled, and they nestled together in the folds of her cloak. He could see Marie’s face, her eyes still closed, but it was the smile on her lips that hurt most. He had never seen that smile, as if everything she had ever wanted had just landed in her lap. He wondered if it had.

It was easier to look at the Wolverine. He was rubbing his crazy hair over her face, blowing into her ear and sipping from her mouth as if plain oxygen wasn’t enough for him. But it wasn’t that which shocked him. It was the smile, and the purring. It wasn’t ownership, or possession, or sheer brutality. John shuddered to see it, but couldn’t drag his eyes away.

Long seconds later, Marie raised herself on one elbow to sink playful teeth into her lover’s leather-clad bicep. Her giggle broke off as her eyes flew past Logan to fix on John, narrowing as they noted his flushed face and glazed eyes. They drifted down, taking in the sight of his erection straining against his pants. She looked back up and saw the discomfort on his face, saw his desperation. He started in surprise when she rose onto shaky legs to close the gap between them, her hands running over her naked body and drawing his attention to the erect nipples, and the dampness still covering her thighs.

Logan came up behind her, the tip of his rapidly reawakening cock rubbing against her back as she placed her hands on Pyro’s shoulders. One of Logan’s hands cupped her breast, his thumb flicking over the taut nipple. She moaned, tightening her grip on John’s shoulders. Pyro’s blue eyes dropped to watch Logan tease the bud between forefinger and thumb. His eyes rose to meet hers again, and her lips parted in a gasp at the lust they contained.

Logan used his free hand to sweep her hair from her neck, his gaze burning as it inspected the marks he had made earlier. She rubbed herself against him more forcefully, asserting her own demands in the face of his possessiveness. He obeyed the wordless order to stop his teasing, his hand releasing her nipple and sliding down her body to settle on her hip.

He looked at Pyro, growling to get his attention. “Back on the floor, Matchstick.”

Pyro’s brow lowered, a sneer starting to form. It disappeared when Logan growled again, the non-verbal threat all too evident. He slid down the wall, Marie still holding onto his shoulders. His new position meant that her breasts were in his face, tempting him. He looked up to find her smiling, brown eyes hooded.

Logan gripped her hips, the tip of his cock brushing against her sex, making her shiver in response. He buried himself within her on the first thrust. She clenched around him as he pulled out, a loud moan coming from her when he slammed back in.

This time there was no taking it slow; he continued to slam into her, his grip on her hips tight enough to bruise the creamy skin. He glared at Pyro, a growl escaping his lips at the way the fire starter was looking at Marie.

Brown eyes locked with blue, and Marie’s tongue came out to wet her lips. Her moans grew louder as Logan pushed her closer to the edge, but it was the look on John’s face that was burning her alive. His eyes were filled with such hunger. Dilated pupils turning them nearly black. She gasped as she tried to take a breath, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“I know what you want to do, Johnny.” A strangled moan escaped her as Logan’s hand snaked around her waist, his fingers starting to massage her clit. “It’s okay. Just do it, baby.”

He kept looking at her, but she heard the sound of his fly lowering; saw the way his eyes nearly rolled back in his skull as his hand wrapped around his hard length. She looked down, watching as he lubricated with the sticky pre-come. His strokes were hard and fast, and she looked back up to find him still looking at her.

“So what does this make me now?” he asked.

“Human,” Logan replied in a dry rasp, his control stretched to the limit by the scene in front of him.

Marie cried out, everything becoming too much for her as Logan slammed into her. His fingers rubbed frantically at her clit as she pulsed and shuddered around him. And as he roared with his own climax, she was already trembling with the onset of another orgasm.

Pyro watched her mouth widen, watched her lose herself and he couldn’t hold back. He came with a grunt, spilling over his hand. The relief flooded him, and his eyes drifted shut.

*

Her scent covered his clothing. His skin. He couldn’t get away from it.

He didn’t want to.

He looked around his room, and he could think of nothing better than having everything in it smell like her. Especially the bed. He wanted the sheets and pillows to be drenched in her. He wanted to wake up and the first thing he wanted to smell was her.

Logan ran a hand through his hair, sitting on the edge of the mattress.

No. Not just have her scent greet him, but also have her head resting on his chest. His arm draped over her. Their legs entwined. Their bare skin touching.

He closed his eyes, his face in his hands.

God, her scent was so strong. It triggered a flood of images - her reaching for him as she lay on the green coat, begging for him as he stroked with agonising slowness. Demanding he fuck her hard as she bent over Allerdyce, her tits thrusting into the kid’s face. Guilt was added to the longing.

If he wanted her so badly, how could he keep taking her in the cell? How could he keep fucking her in front of Allerdyce?

And tonight… tonight she’d started to embrace it, started to imagine new ways to torture the kid. Or him. Or both. He didn’t want to think that he was responsible for corrupting her.

He frowned as he stood and started pacing.

But surely her admission after the kiss in the locker room … she liked that side of him. And she’d willingly entered the cell, right? Hank’s words echoed in Logan’s mind, adding to his confusion.

He wasn’t forcing her. He could never make her do something she didn’t want to do…

He grimaced as he thought about when he’d kissed her in her room, his rough fingering in the corridor outside the cell. He’d been reacting to his urges, to her scent, to her desire. But not her behaviour. Not what she’d been willing to own up to.

He growled, wondering if a shower would help him to forget the mess he’d created. But that would get rid of her scent. And he didn’t want that.

He started removing his clothing, determined to at least try and get some sleep.

And as he closed his eyes, there was only one thing he was certain of.

He wanted Marie.

*

Disbelief. Utter disbelief. Marie could do nothing but stare as the scenario played out around them. She looked at Pete, and saw her expression mirrored on his face.

“Tell me this ain’t happening again, Petey.”

He continued staring, and shrugged. “This is beyond bad.”

She nodded, anger replacing the shock as her brow lowered. She seriously could not believe that Kitty and Bobby could be that single-minded and fuck up the plan. Again. Just like yesterday.

She looked left and right, checking for any signs of the enemy. She nudged Pete, nodded to a warehouse to their right. “You think we can make it?”

He narrowed his eyes, surveying the space between their current position and the warehouse. “It looks possible…”

She looked at him. “But?”

He made a face, apparently not happy with what he was thinking. “You died.”

Marie couldn’t help smiling. “Yeah, I died. Think it was actually my third death yesterday.” The smile increased when she saw Pete’s expression lighten. “But they don’t have the target, remember? We do, so I say fuck ‘em. All we do is let them know what we’re doing, and if they can’t follow an order, then too damn bad.”

He grinned. “Logan won’t be happy.”

Marie’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You leave him to me. I’ll take full blame.” She flicked a tiny switch on her headset. “Shadowcat, Iceman: we’re heading for the warehouse to try and cut through to the Blackbird. Cover us.”

Marie didn’t wait for a reply, breaking cover with Pete as he armoured up. It was more precaution than anything, but he made sure to stay behind her. He wasn’t going to let her get hit again. Not when she carried the target in her backpack.

A whirring noise sounded from behind them, and Colossus moved to grab Marie. He pulled her to the left, the flying disc narrowly missing her head. It circled back around, and both of them ducked. Colossus’ metal body covered Marie, and he grunted as the spinning blade hit him. Sparks flew, but as soon as the whirring seemed to move away from them, they started running again.

It took less than 90 seconds for the disc to work its way back towards them, and Marie pushed her body to try and beat it to the warehouse. The air temperature suddenly dropped around them, and Marie heard Pete cry out, and turned to see him become encased in solid ice. Stunned by the sight, she momentarily forgot their mechanical attacker, and ducked just in time to avoid it. Bobby and Kitty afforded her no cover whatsoever, sheltering a safe distance away, Bobby’s arm still raised towards the icebound Colossus.

Marie ignored the spinning metal disc, charging for Bobby. “What the hell did you do, you fucking idiot?” She tackled him to the ground, not giving him a chance to say or do anything before she landed a punch to his jaw. “What the fuck made you attack your own fucking team-mate?”

She continued trying to cause injury to him, oblivious to the fact that the simulation had disappeared, the Danger Room returning to its normal blue state. Kitty tried to get Marie to stop, but backed off at the glare she received. Angel and Jubilee ran over to Pete, trying to work out how to defrost the big guy.

Logan stormed into the Danger Room, his hazel eyes flicking from the frozen tin man, to Marie trying to strangle Drake. He hooked an arm around her waist, easily pulling her off the Iceman. She was still kicking and clawing with her hands, expletives and curses coming out, some of them aimed at Logan as he set her down, hands on her shoulders to stop her from attacking Drake again.

He turned to look at the Iceman who was still lying on the ground, Pryde already cradling his head in her lap, fussing over him.

Logan glared at him, a low threatening growl coming out. “You better work on your fucking aim before the next session, Drake or I’ll do a lot worse to you than Marie here.” He spared a glance at Jubilee and Warren. “One of you should go get McCoy. He’ll hopefully have an idea of how to get Rasputin defrosted safely.”

Duty done, he returned his focus to Marie, holding her in place with one hand, the other stroking her hair as he tried not to smile at her riled up state. “Marie, leave the ice prick alone. He’s not worth it, sweetheart.”

She rubbed her cheek against his hand, making a noise of assent. She stepped in closer to him, gripping his jacket as she looked up at him. It was then that they both noticed the silence surrounding them.

Logan turned to scowl, his voice coming out in a bark. “Didn’t I give you two orders?” He looked down at Drake and Kitty. “And what the fuck are you still lying around for? You have work to do.”

Logan looked back at Marie, his scowl softening slightly. She held his gaze for a long moment before stepping out of his arms. He turned to watch her go, running a hand through his hair.

*

As Marie stepped into the shower, she wondered how it was that she had found herself in another triangle. Even when she had been with John and Bobby, she had never really stopped wanting Logan. She had just resigned herself to accepting the fact that he would never see her as anything other than a kid sister, or a friend.

John… John had seen her as so much more. Just like now, back then she had known exactly what she was doing when she’d started that relationship with John. The only difference was that she had known without a doubt what it was that she had wanted. She had wanted John.

Her relationship with Bobby, such as it was, hadn’t gone anywhere, and didn’t seem to be going anywhere. The truth was she had felt no remorse in her cheating, she had never even felt guilty about it. She knew that made her a bad person, knew that some people would think she was weak and dishonest. But she had been in love.

And now? When she looked at John, she still saw the boy she had loved, and would have done anything for.

But she also saw Pyro — the young man who hated her for taking the cure, who left her for the Brotherhood, who had stood by Magneto at Alcatraz.

He had left her broken-hearted at Alkali Lake and she had never been able to deal with the loss. She had allowed herself to express a certain amount of pain and grieving under the guise of mourning Jean Grey, and dealing with a ‘friend’ leaving.

In that time she had relied on Bobby, perhaps too much. He had been the only other person in the mansion to feel the loss of John, and she had found herself back in the role of girlfriend. She had been trying to mend a broken heart by making it up to the boy she had slighted.

She had no right to feel rejected by him, now that he had found happiness in Kitty’s bed. But she hadn’t been able to help it. She had been trying so hard to make it work, determined to have at least one relationship succeed.

Only he had never been what she wanted. He wasn’t John. He wasn’t Logan.

Maybe her inability to deal with John leaving was why it was coming out as anger now. Anger, and the need for revenge. She wanted to make him suffer like she had suffered all these months. And every time she entered the cell that would be her intention. And every time she was in the cell, her intentions changed.

She would remember everything they had once shared and a part of her was desperate to get it back.

But then Logan would make his presence known, and she would be focused on him.

Logan.

She had wanted him for so long, but she didn’t know if it was love. She hadn’t been able to believe it, that night in her room when he’d backed her up against the wall. At last, he’d made a move. She thought he’d finally seen her as an adult. Finally worked out she was worth more than just simple affection.

But then… then the cell happened. She had spent a lot of time wondering why he had gone about things the way he had, and she thought she had worked it out. He didn’t seem able to believe that she could willingly accept him wanting to fuck her. Couldn’t accept her wanting to fuck him.

She wanted to, all right. So she kept going back to the cell. But surely, last night, the green coat and the fantasy they both seemed to share… surely that had to prove to him that she was more than willing? That she wanted all of him?

Didn’t she?

Marie shook her head, determined. She did. It was more than lust. She just kept playing along with his dirty games because she knew he needed pushing. She was scared that if she stopped, then so would he. He’d stop wanting her, taking her.

It was also true that she liked it. She liked being able to have the two men she cared about most under her power. Slavering for her. She couldn’t deny that.

But she knew, in the end, she had to choose.

And perhaps the choice wasn’t as hard as she thought. It was a choice she had made years ago.

With John, there would always be a ‘but’.

“I love you, but…”

You’re human.

You’re a traitor.

You’re one of them.

You’re just not good enough.

With Logan, if she could just get him to move past the guilt and self-hate, she knew there would be no exception to his love, no condition. He would love all of her, just as she loved all of him.

Marie took a deep breath, slamming her locker shut. She had made her choice, and now she just had to make Logan understand.

*

She found him in the study, cigar stuck in the corner of his mouth as he stared out the window. She knew by the way his head turned slightly that he was aware of her presence, so she didn’t bother announcing herself. She walked over to him, standing in front of his chair so that his attention was on her, not on the window.

For a brief second, she chewed her lip; unable to decided how to start. His hazel eyes met her gaze, and she suddenly found the words.

“I’m not a little girl anymore.”

“I’m not a little girl anymore.”

Her words fell into the silence, and his bitter snort rang between them.

“Far as I was concerned, you never were. You looked like a woman, smelt like a woman, and hell, I was ready to fuck you against the wall of the back alley just like any other woman. Men like me, kid, they aren't gonna stop and ask how old you are.” Blue tendrils of smoke escaped his nostrils, curling in the air in front of him. “But then you looked at me, like you were looking at a real person. Someone worth something. And I had to look at the person you were, and hell, you weren't for me. Too fuckin' pure, no matter how you smelt.”

He sighed heavily, breath expelling from his lungs in a rush. “When I let you into my truck, it wasn’t because I wanted to fuck you, or fulfill any kind of dirty fantasy. Yeah, sure, I was thinking about all the ways I could touch you, and yeah, I pretty much had a hard-on every time your lips quirked, but ... I stopped it. Pushed it away. Because for the first time I could remember, someone needed my help, and I wanted to help them.”

She nodded, remembering the conflict and confusion that was still swirling when she first touched him, days later. “And you didn't, Logan. You didn't take advantage, even though...” She took a breath, her cheeks heating with anger as the implications of his words sunk in. “So, what was it, Logan? What pushed me off my pedestal? God, for so long, you told yourself I was pure, and innocent, and good and all those things you didn't deserve ... Jesus, talk about the untouchable girl! And the cell? Was that just about me being fuckable now? Satisfying a long starved desire?”

Logan’s lips curled back in a sneer, the cigar forgotten as he stood up. He stretched to his full height, baring his teeth as he snarled at her. Low and full of menace. “I’m not the fucking guy in the cell, Marie. That was the other guy, the one that wanted to fuck you in the back alley. You’ve shown me I can be more than that. But Jesus, Marie. I didn't have anything left. Not one single reason why I couldn't touch you. And when I knew that the little prick had touched you, that he'd had you and just fuckin' left, I had to hurt him. He'd had you and just thrown you away.”

Marie’s anger faltered when he said, out loud, what she knew to be true about John. What she’d been thinking herself. Tears started to gather in her eyes at the fact that Logan cared – not just enough to protect the child, but to avenge the woman. “Then tell me what you want now. What am I to you?”

“I don't know, Marie.” He shouted, full of agony and anger. “I don’t know who I am, so how can I know what I want?” The words trailed off as he realized that the truth – never before admitted – had drained much of his frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing slowly and deliberately through his nose as he tried to rein the residual anger. “In the cell it was easy. In the cell I could be the guy who could just fuck you and not care. I didn't have to worry about corrupting you, or screwing up your life. About not being enough for you. I could just fuck you, and get lost in your body and your scent, and not worry about whether it was the right thing."

She wiped at her tears with the heel of her hand, her voice growing louder as she tried to drive her words through his adamantium-encased skull. “It’s not about right and wrong, Logan. You didn't drag me down there, and didn't force me to stay. I wanted to fuck you, and I wanted to fuck John.” He growled, and she rolled her eyes. “Fuck him over, Logan. Fuck him up. Whatever. Point is, Logan, the whole thing about consenting adults? You get to choose, too. You know what I want, and I need to know what you want. Do you want the reality, or the fantasy?”

She pinned him with a glare and advanced with a twisted smile. “And I’m not talking about the green coat, or being fucked on a bar, or even that blowjob you couldn't stop thinking about in the camper. I’m talking about the cell. It’s fantasy. It’s us pretending there’s nothing but sex, and coercion, and revenge, when we both know damn well that this is more than that.” Her voiced cracked under the strain. She was unable to give up on him, but unwilling to force him further. “Your decision, Logan. I've made mine.”

He scrubbed his face with his hand, a growl escaping him. “I want more, okay?” There was a long pause as he took a breath, his eyes avoiding hers. “I want you in my bed every night, and I want you there in the mornings. I want to be able to eat fuckin’ breakfast with you in that fuckin’ dining room.” His anger faded, replaced by despair. “But I’m still scared of how much I feel for you. It’s not just about protection, Marie, or keeping you safe. It’s about possession, and lust, and ownership, and a whole bunch of stuff that needs to stay in the dark where it belongs.” He closed his eyes, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “Ugly stuff I have no business thinking about you, Marie,” he whispered, wiping his hand across his eyes.

Marie shook her head, raising her hands to touch him, but deciding against it. “Logan, don’t you understand? Lust isn’t bad. Wanting someone doesn’t make you a bad person. Yes, lust is primal and basic, but that's not all it is. It’s raw and honest - it’s about potential, and compatibility, and all the things we have together.” He didn't move, or make a sound, but something in his face told her he was listening. Considering. Maybe even beginning to hope.

Marie looked hard into his face, trying not to plead her case. To beg. “It’s not about giving in. It’s about choosing that potential, or choosing to ignore it. And the ownership, the possession? Logan, you wouldn't be taking anything I’m not willing to give. I want to belong to you. I want to be yours, and yours alone.” She took a breath, trying to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill. “You seem to think it was a bad thing for me to have you in my head, Logan. It wasn’t. I loved it. I love you. But I need more than just a three-year-old version of you. I need all of you ... body and soul”

She waited for his response, hating the fact she could do nothing but wait. But it had to be his decision, his choice. He opened his mouth, and she tried not to tremble.

“I want to give you that, Marie. But I’m not sure if I can. Not sure if I have that in me.” He dragged in a breath, chest heaving harder than it did during a workout. “If I do, it’s there for you. You’re the only one who will ever see that from me, I can promise you that. But I can’t promise you I won’t hurt you, or that this will work out.”

The honesty in his eyes was tearing her soul out. “Don't promise, then. Just try.”

He gathered her into a hug, strong arms wrapping around her as he held him to her. She buried her face against his chest, her arms around his waist. They stayed within the embrace for a long moment, and it wasn’t until Logan released her, that Marie thought to break the silence.

“What are we going to tell people? You know, about us.”

“We tell ‘em to mind their own fuckin’ business.” His expression softened when her face fell, and he stroked gentle fingers through her white forelock in apology. “Marie, its not that I don't want us to be ... together. But we have to work it out first. Work us out. But ... if anybody asks ... we’re friends. Best friends. Better friends than we’ve ever been.”

She raised an eyebrow, a smile curving her lips. “With benefits?”

Logan grinned, full and happy. “Yeah, sweetheart. But they don't have to know that ... yet.”

*

Logan knocked on the open door to Hank’s office. The doctor was on the phone, but waved him in anyway. Logan turned and closed the door behind him. As he faced Beast again, he raised an eyebrow at the angry tone the doctor spoke with. His only reply was a rolling of blue eyes. He leant against the filing cabinet, folding his arms across his chest as he waited.

Hank ended the call a moment later with a very uncharacteristic sentiment involving body cavities and reports, and again Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Problem?”

Hank sighed, and motioned for Logan to take a seat. “Just politicians and their inborn ability to mishear everything. I suspect even now he’s relaying that last message I gave him. Only it will be nothing like the way I phrased it, and more like unequivocal support for their ridiculous legislation.”

Logan couldn’t help the fact that his eyes had glazed over at that last word, but he was grateful McCoy noticed and changed the subject.

“But you’re not here to listen to me bad mouth politicians, correct? So tell me, what can I do for you this time?”

Logan dropped his gaze for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s about… Allerdyce. I think I should hand him over to you. The X-Men. Get him out of that cell.”

Hank’s eyebrows went up. “You think he’s trustworthy enough?”

Logan grimaced. “No, not really. But that’s my problem. I think he needs you to take a proper look at his wounds, and he probably needs a decent night’s sleep. I’m not saying give him a key to the mansion, and a free pass.”

Hank pressed his fingers together as he placed his elbows on his desk, regarding Logan over the top of his glasses. “You no longer feel you have a handle on the situation?”

“You don’t mince your words, do you Doc?” Logan gave a small shake of his head. “The ‘situation’ changed. And I hate to say this, but I almost think the kid might benefit from some time outside the cell. Away from me. From what I did. Maybe he’ll even—” Logan stopped, trying to think of a word other than ‘rehabilitate’. It didn’t seem right.

Hank held up his hands. “I understand. As I recall, there is a spare room available in the staff wing.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Or is that too close to you?”

Too close to Marie, more like, Logan thought. “It’ll have to do.”

Hank nodded in agreement, standing up from his desk. “Shall we go now? Get this sorted out quickly?”

Logan tried not to show his surprise, but followed McCoy out of his office. It probably was better to do it as quickly as possible. He and Marie had laid their cards on the table, and Logan felt that if he were going to make any real go at being the man he said he wanted to be, then he needed to get Allerdyce out of that cell. Give himself no reason to have to go down there. As long as the fire starter was still captive, the cage fighter would be tempted to hit below the belt. Vent his rage. Play his games.

*

Logan swiped his card to let them into the cell. He gestured for Hank to enter first, hoping that the sight of the doctor wouldn’t get Allerdyce on edge. He needn’t have worried though. The kid had been asleep, his eyes opening slowly as Logan crouched beside him.

“Visiting hours started again so soon?”

He ignored Pyro’s sarcasm, deciding to turn his attention to the kid’s manacles as he pulled a key from his back pocket.

“I’m free?”

Hank cleared his throat, choosing to field the question as Logan could only manage a growl and a glare. “Not quite. I shall be taking you to the medlab, then I shall show you to your new living quarters.”

Pyro raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not going to be in the cell anymore.”

Logan paused as he moved to get the other manacle, unable to stop himself from inhaling deeply. The fire starter’s voice was firm, confident even. But his scent contained doubt, even sorrow. Logan had an idea as to where the conflict was coming from, but he chose not to dwell on it. Instead he freed Pyro from his final restraint, and stood back up. He offered the kid a hand, but it was refused with a sneer.

“I can stand on my own, thanks. I’m a big boy now.”

Logan watched Allerdyce struggle to stand, but kept still. He respected Pyro’s need to show his independence, thinking that he would have done the same. Hank gestured to the door, letting Pyro limp out first.

Logan met Hank’s gaze, and felt uneasy about the way the doctor was suddenly hesitant.

“The others may eventually notice his wounds, Logan. Certainly a broken nose cannot be camouflaged with clothing.”

“Then maybe he needs to be confined to his room. Doctor’s orders, or something.”

Hank gave Logan a very suspicious look. “I hope after all this, that you at least remember to buy me a drink.”

Logan nodded. “Done.”

But Hank hadn’t left the cell yet, he was still looking at Logan. “And perhaps you could think of some way to make amends with the young Pyro?”

Logan merely managed a grunt of acknowledgment, watching the retreating backs of both Pyro and Beast.

*

John clenched his jaw as the bandage on his leg was peeled off. The blood had caused it to stick firmly to the wound, making it hurt more than he could actually remember Logan’s claws ever hurting when they’d cut his flesh.

“My apologies,” muttered Hank as he reached for fresh bandages and antiseptic.

John managed a grunt, trying to focus on anything except the sting of the liquid as Hank cleaned him up. He was annoyed that he was no longer numb to the pain, his hatred at what had been done to him down in the cell having been curbed by what had happened most recently. He should have been ashamed, or even better, angry. But he wasn’t. There was no denying the relief that giving into Marie’s urgings had given him. And just being that close to her again as she held his gaze, her body shuddering as the orgasm tore through her was enough to start his blood rushing south again. But a painful sting reminded him of where he was, and how inappropriate a raging hard-on would be right now.

He knew that at least some of her pleasure had come from seeing him jerk off. So he had to wonder whether she had completely let him go. Let her feelings go. If there was even the remotest possibility of him finding his way back into her bed, then he’d take it. And if he could only ever see her that way again in the Wolverine’s presence…

“Fuck!”

His eyes snapped open to find Hank looking extremely apologetic. He bared his teeth at the blue-haired doctor, the animalistic trait earning him a chuckle. He looked down at his leg, surprised to find that the cuts had been completely stitched up.

“I’m afraid the needle was being a bit uncooperative on that last stitch.”

John raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re actually a doctor?”

Hank flashed a toothy grin. “Quite sure. Now let’s just take another look at that nose, and then I’ll show you up to your room.”

Once again, John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Images of a naked, and very aroused Marie danced before his eyes. His memories of what her body had felt like beneath his were still strong, but he had to admit it was nothing to seeing what she was like when there were no barriers; no thought given to her skin. He suddenly ached with the need to feel all that skin for himself, to be inside her. To have her pulsing around him.

And then he thought of Logan, and everything that man had done to Marie. Or maybe, he realised, it was with Marie. The growing suspicion left a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but remember the heat in her voice as she described their first meeting. How spellbound they’d been in the face of the fantasy.

Her fantasy. But the part that worried him – the tenderness, the contentment – hadn’t been imaginary, and he hated to think what might have been behind it.

He heard Hank clearing his throat, and opened his eyes to watch the doctor clearing away his things. “That’s it?”

Hank nodded, pointing to a pile of clothes that now lay beside him. “Put those on. Ah… let me know if you need any help.”

The doctor’s face reflected John’s own discomfort at the suggestion. He mumbled something about being able to handle it himself, breaking eye contact before he could feel any embarrassment. He looked down at the clothes, shock rolling through him.

“Where did you get these,” he demanded.

Hank turned back to look at him, clearly unable to understand his sudden outrage. “There’s a box of spare clothing kept on hand, why is something wrong? They looked to be your size.”

John just waved a hand dismissively, picking up the all too familiar patterned shirt. He threw it back down, discarding the shreds of the t-shirt that still hung on his body. He gingerly pulled on the singlet before slipping on the shirt. It still fit perfectly, and images of Rogue — Marie — doing up the buttons after a stolen hour before leaving for the field trip to museum came into his mind. He pulled on the clean boxers and pants, and for a moment put his hand in his pocket, genuinely believing that he might have found his old lighter there.

He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the sudden bout of nostalgia. He followed Hank from the medlab, grateful that the ride in the elevator would help avoid the mansion’s other inhabitants. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when they managed not to bump into anyone as Hank led him down a vaguely familiar corridor. The corridors in this place had always looked alike, he told himself.

Hank unlocked a door, and gestured for John to enter. He stepped into the room, trying not to betray his surprise. It was as far from the cell as he could get, and even put the room he had shared with the Iceman to shame.

“Make yourself comfortable. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here while you heal.” Hank smiled. “But I’m sure you’ll find the bed here much more accommodating than those of the medlab.”

With that, he left the room. John waited for the lock to click, but it never did. He would be able to leave the room as he pleased. His body suddenly slumped with exhaustion, and he crawled onto the bed. He could leave. If he ever wanted to.

*

Kitty’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the next table over. Logan’s knee was most definitely touching Marie’s under the table, and she could read the girl’s body language like a book. The way she kept toying with her hair, the flush in her cheeks, the sly teases and knowing glances.

“They’re screwing each other.”

Jubilee made a hushing noise, for once not actually wanting to get involved in gossip. “Kitty! It’s none of our business.”

Kitty rolled her eyes. “He’s our instructor. Our teacher. If he’s going to be working his way through the student body then we should know.”

Jubilee laughed. “Hopeful, are you? Haven’t stolen your full quota of Rogue’s men yet?”

That shut Kitty up for at least half a second, Jubilee noted. The hussy even blushed a little. But it didn't take long for Little Miss Obnoxious to reappear. “Its sexual harassment in the workplace, is what it is,” she sniffed, the sheer ridiculousness of the charge making Jubilee want to bang her head on the table. “Please Kitty, he’ll hear you.”

Peter cleared his throat, as anxious as Jubilee to steer the conversation to another topic. “So, Warren how’d you like being in the pilot’s chair? Still prefer your own wings?”

Before the winged man had a chance to answer, Kitty was making noises of disapproval again. “Did you see that? He just gave her thigh a squeeze! That is most definitely not a show of friendship.”

“I always knew they had a thing for each other.” All eyes turned to Bobby. He shrugged, pushing the last of his lunch around on his plate. “Ever since… ever,” he finished inarticulately.

Jubilee bit her tongue, not daring to betray the confidence of one of her closest friends. But she did have to admit, at least to herself, that things between Marie and Logan had certainly taken a turn recently.

“Well, there was that incident in the DR.”

Warren’s tone had been hushed, and he avoided Jubilee’s gaze. Kitty just made a gesture as if to say ‘See?’ and Bobby nodded in agreement.

Peter shook his head, still refusing to badmouth his teammate. “Their personal lives are not our business.”

Kitty huffed impatiently. “It is when the rest of us are being treated unfairly.”

“Unfairly?” Marie stood at the end of their table, glaring at Kitty. “You think that being reprimanded justifiably for your negligent behaviour towards your teammates is unfair?”

Kitty instinctively leaned back against Bobby in search of support, but the movement earned a derisive snort from Marie as she rolled her eyes.

“And gossiping about something that is in no way your business, is that fair?” This time her gaze took in the entire table. “You find it a decent topic for discussion over your lunches, do you?”

Jubilee visibly flinched at the anger in Marie’s eyes, knowing that despite the fact she had never spoken against Marie, she was still guilty for listening. She opened her mouth to apologise, but Bobby spoke first.

“There’s no point in getting angry about it, not when you know we’re right.”

Jubilee cringed, feeling the sudden need to distance herself from the table. And the cafeteria. Maybe even the whole school. She glanced at Peter, and saw that he too was looking uncomfortable. Marie’s bitter laugh sliced through Jubilee’s thoughts, making her turn back to watch. Much like she would a car accident.

“And what would you know about it, Bobby?” Marie snorted in derision. “You've been far too preoccupied trying to get Kitty to slurp the old Drake soft serve to worry about things like ... oh, freezing Pete!”

“Problem?”

Jubilee’s eyes flicked to Logan standing behind Marie, and the need to run far away began to tug at her. She looked at Kitty and Bobby, amazed to see that they had yet to realise exactly how much trouble they were in. If Logan chose to intervene … she shuddered to think what the consequences might be.

Shadowcat chose neither stealth, nor self-preservation. She charged right in.

“You shouldn’t be trying to sleep your way through the student body, it’s unfair on the rest of us. And it’s very unprofessional,” she scolded, oblivious.

Jubilee buried her head in her hands and groaned. Peter decided that his broccoli was suddenly of great interest, and Warren pretended he was reading the nutritional information on the back of his carton of milk. Only Kitty and Bobby were able to look at the incensed couple in front of them.

Jubilee heard Logan growl low in his throat, and raised her head enough to peep through her fingers at him. She did not feel remotely reassured by the fact that he was smiling. It was too close to the smile of a predator. All teeth and no joy. Well, there was a little joy, but she shuddered to think what it meant.

Logan stepped in close to Marie, and slowly ran his hands down her sides, never once taking his eyes off Kitty. “There’s only one student – one body – I’ve ever been interested in,” he purred, his hands reaching around to stroke the strip of skin exposed by the black hipsters she wore.

Jubilee dropped any pretense of trying not to watch when his hand delved even lower, and Marie’s drooping eyelids shot open. Her lover laughed, dropped a kiss on her neck, and then withdrew his hands with a wink and a whisper. Lucky, lucky Roguey was obviously on a promise, Jubilee smiled.

Kitty, however, sat there and spluttered, while Bobby looked like he might faint. Marie’s catlike grin spread even wider at their discomfort, and Logan looked less murderous.

“And if you’re so worried about what’s professional, here’s a tip. Bit more interest in your teammates’ safety, and less in their sex lives. You might actually get to stay on the team that way.” It wasn’t a threat, Jubilee realized. Logan didn’t do threats. He was in charge of combat, and whoever wasn’t combat ready, wasn’t on the team. End of discussion. For once, Kitty and Bobby had the sense to agree, acknowledging the edict with stiff nods.

Logan didn’t bother to respond, simply turning Marie away from the table and guiding her out of the dining hall. It was encouraging, Jubilee thought, how many people heaved a sigh of relief as the threat of bloodshed receded. She would have hated to think everyone was as blind – or stupid – as the so-not-dynamic duo.

*

In the privacy of the hall, Marie giggled quietly, unable to hold it in. “So I guess we’re kind of public now?”

Logan grimaced momentarily before thinking about how damn good it had felt to touch her again. And to be able to have his arm around her now. “Yeah. The smart thing woulda been to keep quiet about us for now … but I ain’t known for always doing the smart thing,” he shrugged. He’d hoped to last at least a week before his caveman instinct jumped up to claim Marie, but he’d obviously underestimated his possessive streak. Discretion was overrated anyway, Logan told himself.

He tried not to grin at her obvious pride, restricting himself to a soft smile instead. “Look, I gotta go take care of something.” He paused, turning to look at her as they entered the foyer. “Can I see you later?”

Marie nodded. “Sure. I’ll be in my room.”

She sashayed down the corridor with a noticeable sway in her step. Logan was momentarily tempted to follow her straight away, but forced himself to head in the opposite direction, towards a less pleasant task.

Minutes later, Logan bared his teeth at the carved wood in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t hate the fact that he had to knock on a door. It wasn’t so much the knocking though, as whose door it was. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and trying to arrange his expression into something vaguely resembling non-threatening as he knocked sharply.

There was a long pause before Logan picked up the sound of footsteps on the other side, and the sound of someone clearing their throat. Allerdyce opened the door, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Logan.

“What do you want?”

Logan bit back the growl, forcing himself to remember he wasn’t here to attack the kid. “Can I come in?”

John tilted his head, amusement in his expression. “I don’t know … I’m kind of tempted to refuse just to see if you’ll ask again.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “I can just as easily have this conversation in the hallway. Your choice.”

John shrugged, stepping aside to let Logan in. “So what’s so important? Sex not so great with Marie now that you two don’t have an audience?”

Logan couldn’t keep back the growl, but he did managed to keep his claws sheathed. “For your information, Matchstick, I came here to try and make amends.”

John stared at him, waiting for the punch line. When it was evident there wasn’t one, he smirked. “You’re serious.”

Logan folded his arms across his chest. “I realise that what I did was … it was wrong. I shouldn’t have gone as far as I did. And,” he cleared his throat, trying to think of a way to put it, “I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Marie.”

Logan froze. There hadn’t even been a moment’s thought on Pyro’s part. The response had been out of his mouth the moment Logan stopped talking. He scowled. “Forget it. Think of something else.”

John shook his head, daring to come closer. “There isn’t anything else. Her. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”

And it’s too much. But Logan didn’t say it out loud. He looked at Pyro, and realised that even though he wasn’t going to let it happen, the only person who could actually say no was Marie. Logan had no right to speak for her, no matter how much he hated the idea. “Just think of something else.”

John’s eyes had narrowed again, like he could read Logan’s hesitation. Logan was grateful when the fire starter didn’t try to push the point.

“Fine. Then train me. Teach me to fight the way you do.”

Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but then he nodded. He was all too aware that John could go back to the Brotherhood, and if he picked up even half of the combat skills Logan could teach, he’d be a doubly effective killing machine. But … amends. And this was within his power. “We’ll have to let your wounds heal first,” he agreed.

Pyro had already moved back over to the door and was holding it open. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

*

Marie smiled warmly when she opened the door. “When you said later, I thought you meant a few hours.”

Logan’s hazel eyes took in the sight of Marie in a tank top and shorts. “You want me to come back?”

She shook her head, platinum and dark tresses shimmering. “You’re here now.” She walked back over to her bed, picking up her things and shifting them onto the desk. “Take a seat.”

Logan closed the door before settling himself on the corner of her bed. He raised an eyebrow when she sat on her desk chair. “You’re not going to sit next to me?”

Marie bit her lip, staring at him for a long moment before answering. “I don’t trust myself.”

Logan caught the scent of her arousal. His pupils dilated immediately, the feel of her still fresh in his mind. “With me.”

She nodded, running her hands down her legs before crossing them. “What I want to do right now is straddle you, and kiss you, and touch you, and…” She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, letting him guess the rest. “But you’re probably here to talk, or something. So here I am, keeping my hands to myself.”

Logan held her gaze. “I’m not here to talk.”

Her lips parted in surprise, and she unconsciously uncrossed her legs and shifted to the edge of her seat. “You’re not?”

He shook his head. “I mean, we could … but seeing you like that, and knowing what you just said … it’d be kind of hard to concentrate. I would have tried, Marie. To talk, I mean. But shit, it’s not really what I had in mind.”

She saw the sheepish grin on his face, and she couldn’t contain herself. She quickly closed the gap between them and climbed into his lap, her knees pinning his hips. He moved equally quickly, arms wrapping around her, mouth tilting towards hers as she leaned into him. But then, strangely, the urgency waned, as emotion surged forth to demand its due.

For a long moment their mouths hovered, their breath mingling. They studied each other: looking, touching, feeling. Marie’s soft brown eyes looked into Logan’s hazel: the devotion there was a soothing caress to his wounded soul. He could feel her chest rising and falling as she took in shallow breaths of air, and her very proximity sent lust snapping through his veins. But something else made it still, quieten. Wait.

Her lips brushed against his, their touch feather light. So soft, so gentle, the barest of tastes that left him craving more. But he followed where she led, and when he pressed his lips to hers, he sipped and savoured, rather than devoured. She sighed, her body folding into his, and soft, full lips parting to accept his tongue. It would have been surrender, but this was no battle. Logan swept his tongue over hers; his strokes slow as he drank her in, learned her by heart. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. Her hands moved up to tangle in his hair, a moan escaping her as he explored every inch of her depths.

She could feel him hard and ready through the denim of his jeans, and it seemed an extension of their kiss – pure pleasure, unbridled joy – when she began to writhe against him. With every undulation, the spiral tightened, and his tongue began to thrust; with every thrust she ground down with a twist that pushed him from hard to near-explosive.

There was only one end to that dance, and it would come far, far too soon, Marie decided. Her head fell back, breaking the kiss with a moan. His mouth moved to her throat, and clever hands slid under her tank top. Her skin was warm and smooth, and she shivered as he trailed a finger down her spine. She raised her head again, her mouth crashing against his. Her tongue pushed past his lips, probing and tasting. Intensity returned, and with it, the unbearable itch of arousal so strong that her nipples began to ache as they scratched against the material of her shirt. Super-sensitised crowns on breasts so heavy and full she could feel them swelling just at the thought of being touched. Arching away in invitation, she gave a sob of relief when he moved a hand round to cup, and weigh, then began to knead.

“Oh, Logan…”

She rocked her hips against him again, raising her arms as he pulled up the hem of her top. He got it up and over her head easily, smiling when her hands immediately flew back to grip his hair. Her tongue was back in his mouth, and he sucked on it hungrily as a low growl resonated deep within his chest. His hands were busy, though, removing his own jacket and shirt, so she forced herself closer, rubbing her breasts back and forth, back and forth against his chest, feeling the wiry hair there even through the thin cotton of his shirt, and her own bra. It wasn’t enough, though. They both needed more.

He eased her hands from his hair, reassuring her with a kiss on her jaw. He pulled his t-shirt and undershirt off, and tried not to slaver as she removed her own bra. He failed. Her nipples were just too enticing, and he dipped his head to take one in his mouth. She moaned and shivered as his tongue flicked over it. Her lower body shifted restlessly, and the room was thick with the scent of her arousal and his own.

“Mm… God, yes…”

It was all she could manage, the rest of her words coming out in unintelligible moans as he nipped and sucked and teased her nipple. Her back was arching painfully as she thrust her wonderful chest into his face, her hands holding him to her breast. His stubble scratched at sensitive flesh, and another shiver made its way to the base of her spine. Once more, she was approaching that place, the home of sheer abandonment. When he shifted to take the other nipple in his mouth, he growled, and the vibrations shuddered southwards. Her sex began to pulse with the promise of it all, with need.

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, Marie.”

She raised her head, her eyes hooded as she met his gaze. She stroked the side of his face, her lips trailing kisses onto his jaw and nose and eyes as he undid the buttons on her shorts. His hand slipped inside her underwear, and a moan caught in her throat as he slid a finger across her clit. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping and sucking it. She dropped a hand from his hair, pressing it firmly against the bulge in his jeans.

“Marie…”

She popped the button on his jeans, her slender fingers making short work of his fly. He gasped out a breath as she wrapped a hand around his erection, already slippery from so long on the edge. He distracted himself by taking the time to learn, for the first time, really, the geometry of her most private places. Clit. Vulva. The pouting mouth below, already dripping for him and hungry for his touch.

“I want you inside me so bad, Logan.”

His eyes snapped open at her words, a growl escaping his lips. He held her against him with one arm, quickly flipping their positions so that he was on top. She was hastily relieved of her shorts and panties, and his jeans pooled at his feet before he kicked them away. Logan couldn’t help but stop and stare at Marie as she lay on the bed. She blushed under his scrutiny, and scooted back to give him room. His gaze traveled every inch of her. From her platinum streaks, to her kiss-swollen lips, to her glistening sex, and then to her toes as she curled them in anticipation.

Marie sucked in a breath. She had always known he was gorgeous, but the sight of him, from corded arms, down the expanse of chest to narrow hips and hard-muscled thighs, cock long, thick and engorged between them … her mouth went dry. It suddenly dawned on her that this was the first time she had seen him naked. Her lips curved into a smile, as sheer happiness joined the waves of desire rolling through her. She held out her arms, beckoning to him. The bed dipped with Logan’s added weight, and she let out a quiet sigh as he settled between her open legs. He held his weight off her as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts. Marie’s hands were on his back, running over his bare flesh. She watched as his tongue dipped into her navel, and then he was moving back up her body and his mouth was on hers. She arched up against him, wanting to feel his hard body against hers. Inside hers. She hooked a leg around his as she lifted her hips.

Logan’s hand gripped her hip as he positioned himself at her entrance. He broke the kiss, his other hand stroking her face. He waited until her eyes met his, and buried himself on the first thrust. Marie’s mouth widened in delight, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He withdrew nearly all the way, then thrust in deep. She let out a moan, clenching around him as he withdrew again. He held her gaze as he found a slow, steady rhythm. Moans and whispered words punctuated their movements, and their bodies became slick with sweat. Logan dipped his head to lick at the salted beads covering Marie’s neck, his lips brushing over one of his marks. She moaned loudly, her back arching as the spirals of pleasure started to become too much.

“Please, Logan, please…”

Her hips were meeting his, taking him in deeper. Her legs moved to hook around his waist. Her brown eyes were imploring him for release. His thrusts became harder, faster, deeper. She started tremble under him, her eyes locking with his. Logan pushed inside her once more and her body shuddered as the orgasm ripped through her. She cried out his name, her hands clutching his arms. The feel of her pulsing around him pulled Logan over the edge, a guttural roar echoing through the room – possibly the entire building – as he came hard.

In the slow-motion moments that followed, they were reluctant to separate. Still breathing hard, Marie still clenching with periodic aftershocks, they lay in silence. When they could open their eyes, he moved onto one elbow and simply looked his fill, before tangling a hand in her damp locks to pull her in for a kiss. She smiled. He smiled. And they slept.

Marie stretched, or at least, tried to. A wall of muscle confronted her right hand, and her legs were still entwined with someone else’s. She smiled, opening her eyes to look at the man sharing her bed.

Logan’s eyes were closed but he growled softly when she ran her hand over his chest, the sound coming dangerously close to a purr. She smiled even more, placing a tender kiss on his shoulder before nipping lightly at the bare flesh.

He turned a little, his arm slipping around her waist to hold her as he nuzzled into her hair. “God, you smell good.” He moved so his mouth was against the curve of her neck, his tongue darting out to lick her skin. He groaned in approval, shifting so that he could trail hot, opened mouth kisses down over her collarbone towards her breasts. The kisses turned into licks and bites, his chest rumbling with a low growl as he heard her moan. “Taste pretty good, too.”

Marie sighed, her hands moving to tangle in Logan’s disheveled hair. What that man could do with his tongue was just pure deliciousness, and to wake up to it first thing in the morning—heaven. She let out another moan, her back arching as he bit her nipple before soothing it with his tongue. He moved to concentrate on her other breast, and she felt the desire coil tight in the pit of her stomach. The inside of her thighs were already slick with her excitement, and Logan’s continual growls let her know he was all too aware of the fact.

He moved back up her body, capturing her mouth. His tongue moved over hers in slow, velvety strokes and she arched up against him. Her swollen and tender nipples rubbed against his hard chest and it sent a shiver through her body.

Her full lips were swollen, and she was panting by the time the kiss ended. “Well, you feel pretty good.” To emphasize her point, a hand slipped between their bodies and she gave his fast-hardening cock a stroke.

Logan caught her hand, stilling her motions. “You wanna be sure you’re ready to follow through, darlin’ before doing something like that.”

She shifted her head, meeting his heated gaze with one of her own. “I’m always ready to follow through, sugar.”

She stared at him, waiting for his hand to move. She stroked him again, smiling when his hips jerked. Her gaze lowered, and she watched as her hand slid up and down his hard length. His ragged breath was warm against her skin. He let out a groan when she increased the pressure, whispered encouragements tumbling from his lips. She wasn’t doing a single thing wrong, and he wanted her to know that. Her skilled hand already had him teetering on the edge, and he hissed out a breath and closed his eyes to ward off the climax. He wasn’t ready, not yet.

A hard won moment later, he opened them to find her chocolate eyes staring up at him, full of curiosity. “Why fight it, sugar? I want you to come for me.”

He groaned again, clenching his jaw. It was a long moment before he spoke. His voice was low, and husky. “So do I, darlin’. But I want to be inside you when I do.”

Her hand stilled its motion, her other hand stroking the side of his face. She raised her head so her mouth could meet his, her tongue pushing past his lips. She released his cock, both hands gripping fistfuls of his hair as the kiss turned hungry. She hooked a leg around his, her sex brushing against his length. He groaned into her mouth, his hand moving to grip her thigh as playful nudges rapidly became preliminary thrusts. She broke the kiss and gasped, her body already starting to tremble and pulse with need. “Wait.”

Logan pulled back. “Is something wrong?”

Marie shook her head, smiling. “No, no. Everything’s perfect, Logan. I just have to do something first, okay? I’m sorry, it’s a shitty moment to stop, but I promise I’ll come right back to bed.” She kissed him when she saw his doubtful look, one of her hands moving down over his back to squeeze his ass. “Trust me.” He nodded and reluctantly let her out of his embrace. She turned back to look at him as she moved to stand, an eyebrow arched in amusement. “I don’t have to tell you not to go anywhere, right?”

Logan grunted as she disentangled herself from him. “Not until you’re ready to relocate to my room.”

His hazel eyes followed her every move, and he saw the blush start to blossom in her cheeks. He chuckled quietly, his gaze sliding down her body to admire her naked form. She opened a drawer in her desk, taking out a blister pack. He watched her pop out a pill before grabbing the bottle of water sitting on her desk.

“Headache?”

She shook her head, swallowing the pill with some water. “No. Protection.”

He raised an eyebrow looking at her. Her body language was suggesting he should know what he meant, and the coin suddenly dropped. He felt guilt wash over him. “Jesus, Marie, I’m sorry. I never meant to—“

She hushed him, quickly making her way back over to him. She took his face between her hands as she knelt on the bed. She kissed his brow, smiling at him in reassurance. “Logan, it was never a problem. I’ve been on it since John. It was always an extra backup in case anything went wrong. With my skin, we never had a choice in whether or not a condom got used. But even that is never foolproof, so I decided to take an extra precaution.”

She swallowed, watching him carefully. “John and I… I mean, my skin was never a problem. It never stopped us from having sex. And even though more often than not, I was the one naked—it’s not the same as being able to touch like this.” She placed her palm flat against his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath the warm muscle.

“John was always covered. His hands were always in gloves, his clothing always on. And our mouths were always separated by scarves.” She blinked rapidly, suddenly realising she’d been lost in memory. She knew she needed to think about John, but right now, she couldn’t. Not while her body still sang with Logan’s touch. Not when his dark eyes were watching her, the familiar lust and new love haunted by an old apprehension. The expectation of being hurt.

She had to explain. How special he was. How miraculous they were together. How different it was to everything that had gone before.

“I always wanted you, Logan. Any way I could have had you. But you would never allow it, and now, I’m thankful you made me wait. Because we can have this,” she said slowly, wanting to understand it was more than skin, more than touch. “Being with you… having you inside me with no barriers at all… I can be the mate that you need, Logan, be that animal. I can feel you come and feel it trickle down my legs and smell you all over me and its so fucking elemental and natural and right ... I never want to have sex with a condom again.” She shrugged, giving him a guilty smile. “I should have told you before. I want to feel everything I can. I don’t know if you’ll ever fully understand what you’ve given me. What you’ve let me experience. Let me become.” The hand that had trailed down his chest started to move over the hard ridges of his abdomen. “I never want a barrier between us. Not physical, not mental. Not even moral,” she said, looking straight into his eyes. “I want us to do everything, feel everything. Try everything that you want to. That I want to.”

He could hear the growl in his throat as the animal rose to her words. Her fingers moved south and his cock leapt to meet them, the guilt that had haunted him a moment ago banished by her honesty, and her desire. Any other woman, he would have doubted, disbelieved. This woman – his woman – had proven herself over and over. She wanted this, wanted him. Good, bad and even the ugly soul underneath. Logan fought the need to fuck her into the floor, and struggled for composure. There were things she needed to hear, too.

“I want that too, Marie. Everything,” his mouth went dry at the prospect, and he forced himself to stop there. Suggestions could wait. “Marie, I…” he trailed off, not really sure how to articulate the swirl of desire and need and love. He combed his fingers through her platinum streak before cupping her chin and tilting her face so she was looking at him. “Before you, I never would have thought to have sex without a condom… All those women I’ve fucked,” he cleared his throat, “it was nothing more than fulfilling a base need. Pretty much just something I did after fighting to blow off steam, and I thought as much about them as I did the guys in the ring,” he shrugged. “As long as they didn’t smell too bad, I didn’t care one iota whether they had any diseases or were gonna get pregnant or whatever … I’d be gone the next day, anyway.” He drew in a long breath, amazed to find he was trembling. Scared, even.

“With you, it was like … I was on overload. My brain wasn’t involved, it was just want, and need. And l .. love.” A stutter. One little word was so fucking scary he’d developed a stutter. Logan growled and ploughed on. “So, sorry if I was an asshole. Sorry I forgot about a condom. No one has ever made me forget anything before, even for a moment. But you … I just wanted to eat you alive, or drink you all up or something. Like a starving man in the desert.” A breath. In. Out. You can do this. “You called yourself the untouchable girl, but you let people touch you, let people in. I never did. Before you, no one had ever touched me. Not in any way that didn’t involve sucking my cock or getting me off. Not in any way that counted.” He stopped, looked embarrassed, and then shrugged. “So, I want that, too. I want us to be able to do it all together, and feel everything. No barriers. Emotional or physical.” He released her chin, and lowered his hands to stroke along delicate collarbones before his hands fell lower. “And we’re gonna spend some quality time demolishing those moral ones, too,” he promised, pushing her breasts high and together before dropping his head to torture the already abraded nipples with quick flicks of his tongue.
Marie groaned, unsure whether it was pain or pleasure building. “I think the time for talking is over, don’t you?” She pulled back when she felt him still, and then release her. “What?”

He looked away for a moment before meeting her gaze again. “Just while we’re clearing the air, I think I should probably tell you that I’ll be training Match—Allerdyce.”

Her eyebrows rose a little in surprise. “Why?”

“I offered to do whatever I could to make amends for what happened. His first choice wasn’t something in my power to give.”

Marie knew without asking what John’s first choice would have been. And Logan was right—it wasn’t for him to say yes, or no. He was watching her, waiting for some sort of reaction. The truth was, she wasn’t really sure what she was feeling. The man she had always wanted, the man she loved was in her bed. Inside her body, even. She didn’t want more than that. But the man she had loved, the man that had made her feel wanted, was back in her life, and now she would have to deal with that.

Her body started to react as thoughts strayed towards the cell, and what it had been like to have both Logan and John there. Both wanting her. Both reacting to her. She saw Logan’s nostrils flare, saw his pupils dilate. Her scent was laced with arousal. Well, increased arousal. There was no hiding it from him.

“You’re not the only animal, Logan. I love you, but I loved him once. And fuck it, he still turns me on. And together ...” she didn’t finish the sentence, but her scent had changed again. From aroused to aching for satisfaction. Nipples hard, hand drifting south, eyes glazed. “Sometimes you have to just let go, Logan. Let go of ‘I should’ and go with ‘I want’. ‘I need.’”

He watched her, as she slid further into that persona, that woman who was unafraid to be an animal. To fuck like an animal. “So, Marie. Question is, what do you need?”

Her eyes had started to drift shut as her fingers circled her clit. At his question, they snapped open, chocolate eyes meeting hazel, her pupils huge with arousal and honesty. Her bottom lip caught in her teeth, and a naughty smile formed as her body continued to move to the rhythm of her own pleasure.

“Everything. Both of you… I’d never do it without you, sugar. I’m not interested in a night alone with John.” Shudders had begun to wrack her body, but she wasn’t interested in coming alone, either. She withdrew wet fingers and offered them to him, climbing on to him and sinking down with a grateful moan as his tongue cleaned each finger in turn. She could feel him, inside her, his cock kissing every inch of her inner walls, and the sensation made her want to bite, to howl. Her tongue darted out in quick movements, licking at his jugular, laving it, and if there were teethmarks, so be it. “I want it to be like in the cell. The three of us again.”

He turned his head, meeting her mouth for a kiss, but one that used teeth and tongue and was careless of pain and tenderness, wanting only to possess, to own. To battle with an equal, knowing both would claim the victory. Their bodies had already begun the wild ride, his hips bucking upwards as hers slammed down, the impact juddering through human and adamantium bones alike. He felt engulfed by the hotness and wetness of her, the clench of her inner muscles driving him beyond mere pleasure into a spiral of feeling he had never known existed. But it was her wild, sweet soul that was driving him towards bliss; the realisation that this woman, this animal, was his equal. His mate. And she wanted to play.

He wondered if Allerdyce was up for the game.

*

John Allerdyce stood looking down into the Danger Room as Logan started his class. Hidden from view in the control room, he could still hear everything being said.

“You lot need to start getting your act together as a team. Drake, Pryde—no more cutting off escape routes of your teammates. And Drake, I seriously hope you’ve been working on your aim. I don’t want Colossus being frozen again.”

John couldn’t contain the smirk as he heard Logan berate his former best friend. He wasn’t above indulging his petty hatred. Not after what had happened at Alcatraz. And not when he still resented Marie’s need to maintain the charade of going out with the ice prick when they had been together.

It was true that John had made no move to force her to change things. He had still wanted her—still fucked her—when she had been with Drake.

He looked down at the group, eyes narrowing and a sneer forming as he watched Logan and Marie. He could tell they were lovers. Oh, they were maintaining their professionalism, but there were still signs. Still giveaways.

His gaze flicked over the rest of the group. Did they know? Did Bobby know? Did he know Logan was fucking Marie just like John had?

John looked back at Marie. Did she know he was watching? Had Logan told her about the deal? About his first choice? Her hands moved, and she clasped them behind her head as she stretched. To anyone else it would have looked like she was just unlocking her spine. Loosening up.

But he saw it for it was. She had made sure he had an optimum view of her breasts. Even if she didn’t know exactly where he was, that stretch was acknowledgement of his presence.

The movement made him think about that last night in the cell. Her luscious tits in his face, her hooded gaze locked with his…

Did that mean she was open to his proposal? He looked at Logan, noting the way the older man was purposely ignoring Marie’s movements. His face betrayed nothing, and John had to wonder what the Wolverine was thinking.

*

Logan had seen the stretch out of the corner of his eyes. Marie was teasing the fire starter. Giving him a taster. A reminder. A signal.

He cleared his throat, returning his mind to the training session. “Today we’re going to split up into two teams and play against each other. I’m in charge of the first team. Tin man and Shadowcat, you’re both with me. Lee, you gotta learn to trust your instincts, so I’m letting you head up the second team.”

Logan’s gaze swept over them. “The goal is to recover top secret files from a computer within this compound,” he explained, stabbing at a location on the virtual map that had appeared at his command. “Use whatever strategies you want, just work as a team. There’ll be a little resistance in the form of soldiers, as well as the opposing team, so stay alert.” He started moving to one side of the DR, motioning for his team to follow. “Let’s do this.”

Marie let herself admire Logan’s retreating backside for a moment. He really did look damn good in that leather uniform. She smiled to herself, thinking about how much fun it was going to be to get him out of it.

She heard Jubilee give a little squeak beside her, and turned to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Jubes, it’ll be fine. How many covert trips to the mall have you planned? This’ll be a cinch.”

Jubilee’s smile was still a little shaky, but her voice came out confident as she gave her team orders. “Okay, so Wolvie’s team has all the strength—big surprise there. It just means we gotta make sure we out smart them…”

Twenty minutes later, Marie was dripping with perspiration. Moving past the soldiers, as well as Colossus had been quite a task, but she’d made it. Now all she had to do was get into the compound. She silently cursed Logan and his obsession with military battlefields. She could hear Pete’s heavy footsteps behind her and turned in time to see Bobby creating a thin layer of ice over the ground in the hopes that Pete would lose his footing. She didn’t bother looking, not when Angel came up behind her.

“Just relax.”

She gave him a nod, hooking her hands around his neck as he scooped her up. Jubilee gave them the signal as she blinded a few soldiers. Marie struggled to contain the excitement she felt as Warren took to the air. It was definitely a rush.

Logan looked up as Angel and Marie flew overhead. He frowned, turning in time to see Colossus get back on his feet. “Rasputin, get your metal ass over here,” he barked.

Pete knew what Logan wanted without being told. He easily lifted Logan off the ground before spinning around a couple of times to gain momentum, and releasing him. Logan sailed through the air, claws popping as he landed on the roof of the compound. He grinned as soldiers started to surround him.

Five soldiers against Logan and his adamantium claws wasn’t much of a contest, and he easily dispatched them. It worried him that Marie and Angel hadn’t made any kind of move against him yet. He stood still, head cocked to the side as he listened intently for any sign of movement.

Marie watched Logan, holding a finger to her lips when she heard Warren suck in a breath in preparation of speech. It was only when Logan was distracted by a second wave of soldiers that she spoke. “I’ll handle Logan, you get into the warehouse and grab the target.”

“But—”

She smiled briefly at his look of concern. “I got it, Angel.”

He nodded, immediately taking to the sky. The movement had caught Logan’s attention, his claws still dripping with the blood of his latest victims. Marie took a deep breath, settling her nerves and jumping to her feet.

“You really think you can stop me?” Logan asked her as he quickly closed the gap between them.

Marie shrugged, settling herself into a defensive position. She knew his moves almost as well as she knew her own, but even she was realistic enough to know that if he really wanted to—he’d take her out quicker than she could take her glove off. “It’s worth trying, sugar.”

He grinned, raising an eyebrow in a silent signal. They traded equal blows, no one ever really taking control of the fight. She wondered what was holding him back, and tried not to smile when realization dawned.

“I seem to recall some big fire and brimstone speech you gave about personal issues getting in the way of training. But, isn’t that what you’re doing now?”

Logan growled, not liking the fact that she could see through him that easily. “You really want me to stop holding back?”

Marie raised her eyebrow, a wicked smile curving her lips. “Didn’t we go over that this morning?”

Logan’s behavior changed so quickly she couldn’t block his fist as it connected with her stomach. She was thrown off balance, landing with a solid thump. She reached out blindly, keeping her eyes on Logan as her hand closed around one of the soldier’s firearms. Without even thinking she had the safety off and was aiming at Logan’s head. The shot was enough to put him down, and buy her some time. She knew from previous experience that his healing factor would eventually push the bullet from his skull, but in the meantime she had to make sure that Warren could recover those top secret files.

*

John listened as Logan congratulated everyone. He arched an eyebrow, begrudgingly admitting that they had all been fairly impressive. He stayed watching as the group began to disband, his attention focused on the two people yet to make a move.

Logan and Marie.

She was covered in sweat, smiling broadly as she pushed her hair out of her face. Strands were coming loose from her ponytail, and John thought of the other times she had looked that way. They had been under very different circumstances.

Logan pulled her towards him and John watched as they kissed. A combination of jealously and sadness welled inside him. He had never seen them kiss before, and somewhere in the back of his mind he equated the act with the knowledge that what the couple had, really did run deeper than just rough sex in a cell.

He turned his back on the scene, no longer wishing to witness the passionate embrace. While watching them fuck had become bearable, almost arousing, it was different when they kissed. A kiss didn’t leave him so hot that his own orgasm was the only thing that counted. A kiss made him hurt in places he didn’t want to admit existed.

*

Marie ran her palm over the rough bark and smiled at the feel of the tree trunk. And the memories it conjured up. After she’d left Logan in the DR, her intention had been to seek out John and talk to him. Only she found that she wasn’t quite ready. She still needed time.

“Remember the first time you joined us? I thought Jubilee was never going to be able to convince you to sit down.”

Not that that had ever meant anything to John. Marie didn’t turn to look at him, her attention fixed on the tree. “Truth be told, I’m not so sure it was her that convinced me.”

He was next to her now, his blue eyes watching her. “No?”

She shook her head, her smile fading a little. “No. I think it was more the look a certain pyrokinetic gave me.” She dropped her hand from the tree. “But don’t tell Jubes that.”

John smirked when she finally looked at him, moving in close to her as he leaned against the trunk. He was pleased when she made no move to put space back between them. “I seem to recall a few other things I convinced you to do under this tree, too.” His pupils dilated as she flushed. It still didn’t take much for him to react to her. The way her tongue darted out to wet her lips had his body tightening. “If I remember correctly, one of the first times I groped you happened here with Drake just a few meters away. You were so responsive, even when I was touching you through fabric.” His smirk vanished. “God, I miss the feel of you.”

She broke eye contact, her gaze back on the tree. “Don’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Don’t what?”

When she looked back at him, there was anger in her eyes. “You fucking left me, John. So don’t start talking, or acting like nothing’s changed. You left me, you asshole.”

He sneered. “Yeah well it’s not exactly like you’ve been lacking any male attention in my absence. You never did tell me how long it was before Logan replaced me. Does Bobby know? Does he know how much his precious Marie enjoys fucking around?”

His head snapped back as Marie slapped him. “How dare you,” she seethed. “Logan hasn’t replaced you. When you left, I tried to make things work with Bobby. You left a fucking hole inside me. It’s taken a long time to mend it.” She took a breath, looking away towards the mansion. “We broke up after he came back from Alcatraz. Seems I’m not the only one capable of ‘fucking around’ as you so eloquently put it.”

“Who?”

She turned to look at him. “What?”

He straightened up. “Who’d he dump you for?”

She shrugged. “Does it matter?”

He nodded. “No one could possibly be better than you. I just want to know how shitty his taste really is.”

Marie couldn’t help smiling at his use of the word ‘shitty’. “Kitty.”

Disgust was immediately reflected in his expression. “Figures.”

They fell into silence and Marie lowered herself onto the ground, sitting against the trunk.

“I left because I found a man, and a cause I could believe in. That I wanted to fight for. Not because of you. I never wanted to leave you.”

She turned to look at him as he sat beside her. He winced at the pain it caused his leg, but didn’t complain. “But you still did.”

He sighed. “But I still did.”

“You never gave me a reason to hope, John. Not one letter, or phone call. Not one goddamn reason.”

“I know, Roguey. It’s the only thing I’ve ever regretted. I just thought…” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I thought.”

“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that right?”

He nodded, a lopsided grin forming. “Yeah, I know.”

She held his gaze, searching his blue eyes. “But the answer is still yes.” She held up a hand to stop him from interrupting. “But not right now. I’m not ready. Logan and I are new, and we’re still exploring each other. I don’t want anyone’s scent but his. I don’t want anyone’s taste but his. And you and me probably need to step back for a bit.” She got to her feet. “But soon—before you go, before we go—we’ll say goodbye. Properly. Once and for all. And very, very slowly,” she promised, eyes hot.

And the prospect floated in front of him like an unconditional pardon, a release from the tortured past. Forgiveness. Resolution. Hot, hot sex with Marie. Maybe Logan would just watch. Maybe the Wolverine could be chained up long enough to let them have their goodbye. Maybe John could convince himself that was all he wanted.

Maybe.

Five months. Five months she’d been sitting here in the Danger Room. Watching them. Watching Logan snarl and bite and push John until he nearly broke. Watching John burn and push and grow in response.

It was impressive. It was brutal. And it was hot.

Marie swallowed as she watched a salty droplet of sweat journey down John’s torso. His chest heaved with physical exertion; his breath huffed out in controlled pants. Her eyes lingered on the sharply-defined muscles in John’s forearm as he raised his hand to block Logan’s punch, then flicked to the power of Logan’s fist, pulled back in readiness for the next blow. She shifted, conscious of the effect that so much beauty and aggression was having on her. Her lips parted, pink tongue darting out to moisten them.

There was no love lost between the two men. In place of anything that could be considered friendship, was a mutual and grudging respect.

She wasn’t even completely sure that what she and John shared could be termed as friendly. Intense, passionate, convoluted - yes. But Marie knew any chance of building a real friendship would always be frustrated by his ever-present jealousy. Of what, though? Was he jealous of what she and Logan shared? Jealousy of her happiness with someone other than him? He would admit to nothing, but it was there, a dormant menace lying just beneath the surface. His smiles at the mansion’s inhabitants were little more than a sarcastic pretense, while he waited like a snake in the grass for the perfect moment to strike — to claim what he felt was rightfully his.

Being the object of such intensity should have frightened her, or at least made her feel uneasy. Sometimes it did, but more often, it served to fuel her own desire. Add to that the smoldering looks that both men were directing at her… the undisguised lust just added to her fantasies. Fuelled her determination to have them both.

When Logan had sought John’s forgiveness, the pyrokinetic had named his price. He wanted her. One last time, he had said. Fine. But it would be on her terms. In her bed. With her lover.

Her head fell back against the mirrored wall, her pupils dilating as her breath quickened. She may have been watching quietly, biding her time until she knew when the moment felt right, but all these months Logan had been able to smell her anticipation. Knew how giddy she was about the prospect. Saw right through the restlessness that everyone else had commented on. The corner of her mouth kicked up as she saw Logan’s nostrils flare. It worked as an aphrodisiac. Knowing the depraved thoughts that kept her constantly aroused. It was just another sign of her lack of inhibition, her animalistic desire equal to his.

She shifted again, one leg crossing over the other in an effort to keep her desire in check. She was fairly certain neither man would have any particular objections if she decided to slip her hand inside her jeans, but now was not the time. Not for that kind of self-gratification at any rate.

The two men had stopped sparring, John taking a sip from his water bottle as Logan stretched. Marie pushed herself off the floor, a seductive sway lacing her walk as she made her way over to them. Logan slid an arm around her waist, dipping his head to place a kiss behind her ear as she turned her head. She watched John’s skin flush with jealousy before he was able to force his expression back into its usual indifference.

Marie’s hand slipped up under Logan’s singlet, her fingers digging into the warm flesh. She crooked a finger at John in silent invitation. A test. Her way of seeing if he was ready. He raised an eyebrow, blue eyes narrowing as he glanced at Logan. He put his water bottle down approaching, and was careful to avoid Logan as much as possible, while inching as close to her as he could get. She reached out and grabbed the back of his neck to overcome his caution, pulling him in close for a kiss. Her tongue pushed past his lips for a taste, and suddenly, caution was no longer an issue. She felt his hunger — his greed — as he deepened the kiss, and in the end, she had to push him away. Marie was still licking her lips as she turned her head towards Logan.

He pounced, as she knew he would. Logan’s hand tangled in her hair, jerking her roughly as he pulled her mouth to his. She parted her lips for him, enjoying the way he was controlling the kiss. His tongue was demanding as it explored her depths, coaxing her own into action. And she responded, her fingernails scraping over his flesh. She bit his bottom lip as they broke apart, drawing blood. She wiped her thumb across it, licking at the crimson droplet as she held his gaze. The smile that curved Logan’s mouth was predatory, and his hold on her waist shifted as his fingers splayed across her stomach. She leaned back into him, her own smile smug as she looked at John. This was her night. And she was on the verge of purring about it. She may have been the little innocent when John had her, but now…

Had he really ever known her? Back then, she had been trying so hard to forget. Her past, everything she’d been exposed to, both firsthand and second. She had been living a lie. Using her skin as an excuse to keep the world at a distance lest anyone find out the truth. But once she’d stopped pretending, once she’d accepted who she was, she’d had no regrets.

She placed a hand over Logan’s, reveling in her true nature, and her freedom to explore it. There was no hesitation in her gaze when she looked straight at John and issued the invitation. Just brown eyes hinting at unspeakable pleasure. “Tonight. Our room.”

*

John Allerdyce ran a hand through his short brown hair, amusement playing across his features as he thought about the argument he’d had with Marie about bleaching it again. He was whipped all right. Whipped by a woman that was no longer his. But one that should be his — would be his, if only for tonight.

He ran his tongue over his lips, the lingering taste of Marie teasing him. She still tasted deceptively sweet. Intoxicating. Tantalizing.

That’s what she was now. What she’d always been. The sweetness had only ever been a deception, and it was all a part of the tease. She was so alluring in her false innocence, but John knew that most people only saw what she wanted them to. Her face conveyed innocence, and the timidity of her movements lent to the notion — but they never stopped to consider her eyes. They held the truth, and the truth was that she hadn’t been truly innocent for a very long time.

A phrase popped into his head, and he snorted. ‘Like a moth to the flame…’ Oddly appropriate, even if he was the moth.

He took a breath, his fingers closing around the door handle. He hadn’t knocked. Why should he? He was expected, and if Marie wasn’t ready… He smirked. So much the better. Of course, there was still the fact that Logan would be in there. But it was what she had wanted. Images floated through his mind. Snippets of what had happened in the cell. Of what she’d been like.

Who was he trying to kid? There was no way he was backing out just because her lover was going to be there. He might not have the Wolverine’s sense of smell, or any of those other heightened senses — but John still knew just how turned on she was at the mere idea of having both men. He could see it in her eyes, in the flush of her skin. In her body language.

Another breath, and he’d turned the handle. He paused in the doorway, surprise keeping him from crossing over the threshold. There had to be at least a hundred candles in the room. All lit. All serving to create a very sensual atmosphere. His gaze swept the room, habit and his mutation making him calculate just what could be accomplished by having that much fire at his disposal. His smirk disappeared, replaced by a knowing smile as he closed the door behind him. She might be doing this for her, but Marie still remembered what he liked.

He stepped deeper into the room, blue eyes fixing on the woman in question. Her red lips curved, the smile sinful and wicked, and all too captivating in its meaning. Her chocolate eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She was sitting sideways on a chair, her legs crossed at the knees, her body draped in a red silk robe.

John took a breath, a compliment poised on the tip of his tongue — but watching Marie through the flickering candlelight made coherent thought nearly impossible. He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, letting out a low appreciative whistle. “Goddamn.”

Marie shook her head, her silky mane shimmering as she raised a finger to her lips. “Shh, don’t ruin it,” she whispered as she gracefully rose to her feet.

John swallowed, trying not to fixate on the black stilettos she wore. He opened his mouth again when she was closer, but all thoughts of speech disappeared the moment her painted lips molded against his.

Her body pressed up against him as her fingers gripped his hair. He moaned despite himself, his hands trying to touch all of her at once. Her tongue traced his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth enough for her to get a taste.

But it wasn’t enough. He knew it. She knew it. Her tongue pushed past his lips, demanding and aggressive as it swept over his. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, and even through his shirt he could feel the tightened peaks of her nipples.

A hand left his hair, her fingers trailing down his side. Her hand paused, gripping his hip as she continued to ravage his mouth. She let slip a quiet moan as his tongue started to respond to hers with equal fervor. Her hand moved again, slipping between their two bodies. He groaned as she pressed it against the seam of his jeans. The heel of her palm rubbed against him, teasing him through the denim. He felt his cock stir, her skilled movements causing his body to tighten.

She started to move, forcing him back towards the bed. He didn’t mind though: the sooner he could get his hands under that robe, the better. His calves hit the edge of the mattress, and she pushed him back onto it. He eased back, shifting himself further up the bed as she knelt forward and started to crawl up the length of his body. His cock leapt at the sight of her — tousled hair, smoldering eyes, kiss-swollen lips, and that fine porcelain skin. He raised a hand, intent on pulling her towards him, but she slapped it away.

She smirked. “Not yet, Johnny. Not until I say so.” She ran her hands up his arms, grabbing his wrists and pulling them up over his head.

One hand held his wrists in place as she kissed him again, the other hand reaching for the length of black silk draped around the headboard’s post. She pulled back, concentrating on the knot she tied as she fixed his hands in place.

“Marie…” Part question, part plea.

She smiled, wriggling back down the length of his body. He groaned as she reached the bulge in his jeans. She snapped open the fly, winking at him as he hissed in relief. She trailed her fingers along his aching erection, forcing his hips to give a responsive jerk. But she ignored his obvious need, gripping the denim as she pulled the jeans down his legs. She stopped to take off his shoes and socks, and then yanked off the jeans all together.

She held onto his right ankle, tying black silk around it and the bedpost. He raised an eyebrow in question, curiosity stopping him from fighting his position of vulnerability. Another wink was the only answer he got as she tied up the left.

He watched as she stepped back, allowing him a full body view. She smiled, her slender fingers toying with the ends of the sash keeping her robe in place. “You’ve been such good boy letting me tie you up, so how about a reward?” She pulled slowly on the sash. “You want to see what’s underneath, sugar?”

John nodded, not trusting his voice to stay level if he spoke. His blue eyes stayed glued on the sash, every nerve in his body tingling in anticipation. She gripped the edges of her robe, moving her shoulders as she let the red silk fall in a puddle around her heeled feet. John sucked in a breath, his erection damn near painful at the sight of Marie. She wore a black lace teddy and matching garters. The tight bodice constricted her lush curves, her impressive cleavage threatening to spill from the cups whenever she took a breath.

The flicker of candlelight and movement in the shadows to Marie’s left caught John’s attention. His eyes widened as he watched Logan take his place by Marie’s side. He hadn’t even seen the older mutant in the room. But the realization that he’d been there the whole time, watching, dawned on him. Logan’s eyes were on John as he ran his hands down Marie’s sides. She leaned back against him, raising her hand to grip his dark locks. Logan let out a low, rumbling growl as he nuzzled her hair. His right hand strayed from her side, sliding down her stomach. His fingers brushed against her sex, making her shiver.

Marie turned her head, her lips brushing against Logan’s. Logan’s hand trailed around to her ass, squeezing it gently as he picked up the nearest candle and handed it to her. She smiled up at him, kissing him again before moving back towards John.

Blue eyes followed Logan’s retreating form as he sat in the chair Marie had previously occupied, no longer hiding the fact he would be watching. Marie crawling back up his body distracted John, and as she straddled him, John raised his hips off the mattress in an effort to find some friction. She shook her head, moving so that she could place the candle on the bedside table. She shifted, just enough for her ass to rub against his throbbing erection. He groaned, clenching his fists.

“Marie.” A command. A direction.

Another shake of the head, her hands running over his covered chest. She bit her lip, her eyes reflecting her enjoyment. John frowned. She liked — no, loved — having him so vulnerable. He could feel the wetness soaking through her teddy, covering his abdomen. He pulled against his restraints, wanting to grab her hips and push her down on his cock. Lose himself in that heat, that slickness.

But she had other ideas. She tore open his shirt, pushing the material away from his chest. Her hands were once again running over his torso. Her fingers pulled at his nipples, pinching and teasing them. He sucked in a breath as her nails scraped over his abdomen. The candles in the room flared momentarily, and Marie smiled triumphantly. She really did remember what he liked. Only, before it usually included his being buried inside her and clothing between them.

She reached over to pick up the candle again, her breasts in his face. He tried to lift his head up enough to taste them, but he couldn’t. She laughed quietly, running a finger over the smooth white skin.

“You want to see them?”

He grunted, pulling at his restraints. “You know I do.”

She tilted her head, eyes flicking towards the candle. “Then you need to learn to behave, Johnny. You were being so good before, but now…” She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders.

“I’ve put up with you teasing me for this long, isn’t that enough?”

“No,” she answered simply. She turned the candle to point towards his chest, letting a single drop of hot wax hit his skin.

John clenched his jaw, his muscles going rigid as he fought the momentary pain. Marie smiled, holding the candle with her left hand as she reached out with her right, taking a cube of ice from the bucket on the bedside table. John spared a second to acknowledge that she really had been thinking about this for some time, then the ice was on his skin where she’d dripped the wax on him, and he welcomed the instant relief. The cube melted in seconds, his burning skin reducing it to liquid.

She smiled down at him, the expression a seeming contradiction to the torture she was inflicting. “It’s okay, you can make noise. I want you to.”

Marie dripped hot wax on his chest, rubbing it across his torso as he swore through clenched teeth. Another ice cube was trailed over his skin, the flesh turning cold. He looked up at her, biting his lip.

She let another droplet of wax hit his chest. “Let go, baby. Give in.”

He groaned, pulling at his restraints as she soothed his skin with ice. The pain was starting to give him a sense of pleasure, and he sneered—disgusted with himself, and with Marie’s ability to bring out such a contradiction in him. He had expected his erection to soften with the lack of attention, but if anything—it was throbbing. And she knew it. She licked the corner of her mouth, rubbing against him just to let him know how wet she was.

A growl filled the room, and John looked past Marie to where Logan was sprawled in the chair, jeans undone, hand making long, slow excursions up and down his own cock. The hard-on was immense, and John felt a moment’s envy. But when Marie placed her lips next to his ear, her words electrified him.

“You know, that hard-on’s not just for me, John. Logan’s a very... complex ... man. He likes to dominate, and he loves to fuck. Right now, he wants to fuck you.” She plunged her tongue in his ear in crude punctuation, and then raised her voice. “Enjoying the show, sugar?”

“Fuck, yeah,” came the gravelly rejoinder. And the lust in his voice was undeniable.

Marie tilted the wax over his body again, and this time, he didn’t even attempt to hold back the cry.

“There, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She placed a tender kiss on his jaw, her erect nipples pressing against his chest through the lace of her teddy. She gave the tiniest moan of pleasure, before straightening up again.

His chest heaved, his breath coming out in pants. “Let me see them.”

Marie raised an eyebrow, her index finger caught between her teeth as she appeared to think about his request. “No, I don’t think so. You didn’t ask very nicely, John. But you did very well with the wax, so you do deserve something.”

He bared his teeth, fury gathering in his brow. “Marie.”

She gave him that smile again — innocent, and warm, and everything she wasn’t being. She put down the candle, raising herself on her knees as she moved up his body. Her sex was right above him, just out of reach. She steadied herself with her left hand, gripping the headboard as she trailed her right hand down her body, circling her nipple before sliding down her stomach. He watched as she slipped a finger past the g-string, stroking her clit.

He raised his head up, trying to get to her. Christ, he wanted to lick her so bad it hurt. She was right above him, glistening, pulsing, enticing. “Marie, please…”

She dipped down slightly, but still out of reach as her finger slipped deeper inside her slick folds. “Beg me, John.”

Her finger pumped in and out, her thumb circling her clit. She moaned loudly, and John fought his restraints. “Marie, for fuck’s sake.”

She paused. “That’s not begging, Johnny. I wanna know how much you want me. How much you want a taste.”

He struggled against his restraints. “Marie, come on. You know how much I want you. I’ve stayed at the mansion for you. I’m strapped to the bed with no fucking pants and very fucking hard with him watching for you. And if you don’t sit on my face and let me eat you right now, there’s a room full of candles at my disposal.” He emphasized his point by focusing on each candle, making them flicker and the flames increase in size.

Marie’s fingers slipped out of her teddy, and she lowered them to his mouth. He licked at the proffered digits, groaning as he tasted her juices. She was so fucking sweet. “Marie…”

She took away her fingers, sliding them back inside her. Her movements were more urgent, two fingers pumping deep inside as she rubbed her clit with her thumb. She moaned loudly, John’s pleas spurring her on. He watched, jealous of her fingers and the need for more — her taste, her touch — making him crazy with want. A shudder went through her body, and he groaned loudly, straining to get his mouth to her.

“Beg me again, Johnny,” she whispered.

He stopped his struggle, focusing on her fingers. Imagining them to be his dick sliding in, and out. In, and out. He groaned loudly, fairly certain he was close to coming with no help whatsoever. “Please, Marie. I want to taste you, I wanna fuck you. Hard, slow, I don’t care. I just want to be deep inside you when you come. I wanna be why you come.”

Her body shook, the orgasm building up deep inside her. “So close…”

John smirked. He was finally understanding her little game. “If you won’t let me be inside you, then just come on me. Please, Marie.” He licked his lips in anticipation, watching as her body shuddered with force. Her cry filled his ears, and moisture slid down her fingers, a single drop falling onto his lips.

“Marie.” A growl, a command.

She turned to acknowledge Logan, looking at him from under dark lashes. “I’m sorry, sugar. I got carried away.”

The corner of his mouth kicked up. “C’mere, darlin’.”

She slid off the bed, making her way over to him on shaky legs. She grinned as his gaze lingered on her curves, pulling him out of the chair. She glanced at John. “I want him to see everything.” She pushed Logan, turning him sideways as she made sure John had a clear view. She dropped to her knees before Logan, his hard length directly in front of her. He placed a hand on the back of her head, his fingers knotting in her hair as she licked along his cock from tip to base.

John watched from the bed as she flicked the tip of her tongue over Logan’s dick, swollen lips parting to take him in. The site of Logan bucking into Marie’s mouth transfixed him. His own cock throbbing, with the need to do the same nearly overwhelming him. Desires from the past surfacing as it finally clicked into place that Marie was capable of giving him everything he had ever wanted.

Logan’s growling punctuated each thrust, the other mutant looking down at Marie with dark eyes. John bit into his bottom lip, not wanting to let slip the moan building deep inside his chest. Just like in the cell, watching the two enjoy the violence of their activities — Logan’s voracity when it came to dominating Marie — was pushing John to his limits. He had barely admitted the truth to himself whilst in the cell, let alone outside it. And now, here in their bedroom months later… he released the hold on his lip, groaning loudly.

Logan came, Marie’s name tearing from his lips in a roar as liquid heat rushed into her mouth. She swallowed it, pulling back until Logan’s cock slipped out of her mouth with a pop. She looked up at him, utter devotion in her chocolate eyes as he stroked her cheek. Marie turned her head, nuzzling into Logan’s palm. John closed his eyes against the display of tenderness, trying to stem the envy it provoked.

Warmth enveloped him, and the feeling of fabric on his torso made him open his eyes again. Marie smiled, her tongue skating over her top lip. She lowered her head, teasing him before her mouth captured his. John could taste Logan on her lips, tangy and bittersweet. She pulled back, breaking the kiss before he could get his tongue past her lips.

“He tastes amazing, like pears soaked in bourbon — wouldn’t you agree?”

John nodded, his eyes on her lips. He still wanted another taste. “Marie, please…”

She hushed him, holding a finger to her lips. “I always wondered what you would taste like. If your cum would be cinnamon flavored, like your mouth.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s time to find out.”

He shifted, or tried to — wanting to urge Marie on, get a hand to her. She shook her head, reaching for a length of black silk. She tied it around his head, covering his eyes and sending him into darkness. He pulled at his restraints, his demands to know what she was playing at answered by the downward scrape of her nails against his flesh. He sucked in a breath, his body beginning to pulse with need when her tongue flicked over the tip of his cock before she took him in.

John lifted his hips from the bed, forcing more of himself in her mouth. It was so hot, wet … he thrust up again, groaning as her tongue swirled around him. It was sheer relief to have friction, something other than air to ease the throbbing. His hips bucked, and he groaned again. It hurt so good, and he wondered whether he was going to last long enough to truly appreciate this in the morning.

Her nails dug into his thighs, trying to stave off his orgasm. “I want you to enjoy this, Johnny,” she whispered. She licked his length, one hand moving to massage his balls.

He gritted his teeth, wanting the moment to last. “Fuck, Marie.” She had taken him into her mouth again, and he took a gasping breath. “Baby, let me see you. I want to see you. Please.” He knew he should hate the pathetic way he was begging, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The things she was doing to him with her tongue had him teetering dangerously close to insanity.

John blinked rapidly as the blindfold was removed, his eyes widening slightly as he took in the fact that Logan had removed the material. The man was hard again, and John found himself torn between keeping an eye on where Logan’s dick was pointed — and the sight of Marie’s lips wrapped around his own cock.

Logan untied the knot keeping John’s hands bound. John didn’t bother thanking him, immediately grabbing a fistful of Marie’s hair. She pulled back, moving so she was straddling him once again. She lifted up, holding still as Logan extended a claw and sliced through the side of the teddy, and g-string. The bustier fell away from her skin, and Marie threw it out of the way.

John’s gaze traveled the length of her body. He tugged at the garter on her left thigh, a smirk gracing his lips. “Fuck yeah.”

Logan ran an appreciative hand over Marie’s creamy skin, and she smiled at him as she sank down onto John’s erection. She gasped in pleasure, her back arching as she thrust her chest forward. Logan circled behind her, climbing onto the bed so that he was positioned between John’s open legs and right behind Marie. He slid two fingers between her thighs, barely touching John as he took advantage of her arousal to moisten the digits.

Marie leaned forward, her hungry body swallowing even more of John’s length as Logan’s fingers circled her anus, stretching the tight hole to accommodate him. When she began to buck backwards, he slid inside her with a growl that John had never heard before. Marie obviously had, though, and she sure as hell wasn’t scared: her breath came out in a hiss, eyes closing in bliss at the double penetration. John gripped Marie’s thighs as she writhed between them, and tried not to think too much about what was happening. That sharpening spiral of pleasure as Marie’s body grew tighter and tighter was … unexpected. And he couldn’t deny the sensation of his dick hitting Logan’s was exciting. And erotic. His mind rebelled a little at the thought, but his body didn’t seem to care so much. It was too busy feeling.

Logan swept Marie’s hair out of the way, his tongue and teeth marking her shoulder as his fingers teased her nipples. She moaned loudly, leaning against Logan as she rocked her hips back and forth. John thrust upwards, making Marie cry out with the exquisite surge of pleasure-pain. He wanted to cum so deep inside her that she’d be able to taste him. He wanted to hear her call out his name over and over again while she rode out the waves of agony and ecstasy.

The room filled with the sound of body moving against body, growls and moans punctuating the slide of sweat-slicked flesh. Marie’s eyes were hooded as she held John’s gaze; her red lips swollen and parted as she gasped, moaned, and cried out — begging him not to stop. To go deeper. Logan, too, was subject to her direction. Harder, she begged, faster.

John’s muscles were straining with the effort required to hold back his orgasm. The foreplay — the torture — had already placed him on edge, but this … of all the fantasies he’d had surrounding Marie, he’d never dreamt a reality this good, this intense. And never, ever had it involved Logan.

John felt Logan as the other man came, and watched as the Wolverine sunk his teeth into Marie’s shoulder. The pulsing pushed Marie over the edge, and she moaned out John’s name as her fingernails dug into his torso. John thrust upwards one last time, coming with a load groan that resembled Marie’s name.

She grinned, panting as Logan’s arm slipped around her waist to keep her upright as he withdrew. John pulled himself into a sitting position. He could still feel Marie clenching around him from the aftershocks. He grabbed her hair, his mouth crashing against hers. The kiss lacked finesse—all teeth and tongue, but that only encouraged her to return the sentiment.

Logan climbed off the bed, taking off the lengths of black silk around John’s ankles. Marie giggled as John’s relief at not being bound anymore was clearly reflected on his face. Logan’s hand caressed her ankle, moving up the back of her calf before he removed her stiletto. He took off the other, bending down to place a kiss on her back. She stroked John’s cheek, moving so that she was lying next to him. At a look from Marie, Logan shucked his jeans, and got back into the bed. She sighed as he nuzzled into her hair, and rolled onto her side. She looked at John, placing her hand on his chest so that her palm was flat against his heart. He watched as contentment settled over her features, replacing the lust that had been there moments before. She kissed his skin, a simple kiss between two people that have an understanding. It spoke of fondness, but not love.

*

Marie smiled up at Logan as he adjusted the collar of her coat. He smoothed it down before holding her shoulders, and placing a kiss on her forehead. “Ready, darlin’?”

She nodded. “Ready.”

John cleared his throat, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorway to Logan and Marie’s room. “You guys are packed?”

Marie turned, making her way over to him. “Yeah. How about you?”

He shrugged, giving her a crooked smile. “I’m sticking around for a bit. Figured this was as good a place as any to try and make a clean start.”

Her eyebrows rose slightly. “Really?”

He nodded. “Sure. There really isn’t anything outside these walls worth leaving for… Not anything that’s mine, anyway.”

She stepped in closer to him, her lips pressing against the corner of his mouth in a tender kiss. “Goodbye, John.” She pulled back, a smile tugging at her mouth. “It’s vodka, by the way. Apple cinnamon vodka. Warm, spicy, and then pure flame going down..”

She started to walk away but John grabbed her wrist. He glanced in Logan’s direction briefly before his blue eyes focused on Marie. “Don’t forget about me now, just ‘cause you got what you wanted.” He smirked. “You know where to find me though, if…” He shrugged, letting her fill in the blank.

Logan snorted, coming up behind Marie. “This ain’t a joke, Matchstick. You gotta learn the rules if you wanna play.”

John’s smirk increased as he looked at the older man. “You’re lecturing me about rules? I think I’ve more than proven myself capable of playing your game. Last night, and before.”

“Maybe the two of you should just fuck already, and get it over with. The tension is enough to drive a girl mad,” Marie interjected. Both men fell silent and she gave a curt nod. “Now that the pissing contest is finished, we really should get going.”

John tugged on her wrist, pulling her against him. He held her still, his mouth capturing hers. His tongue pushed past her lips, looking for more than a quick taste. He pulled back, his expression heated. “I mean it, this isn’t over.”

Marie swallowed, waiting for Logan to say something. But he didn’t. He stayed very quiet as he moved past her. “It never was,” she whispered. She pulled away from John, grabbing her bag before following Logan. She turned, looking back at John from over her shoulder. “Be seeing you, Johnny.”

He watched her sashay down the corridor, pulling his lighter out from his pocket. He flicked it open and closed, raising his eyebrow as he watched the elevator doors close on the couple. He looked down at his open lighter, watching the flame for a second before his gaze went back to the elevator. The lighter snapped shut, the sound bouncing off the walls.

He smirked. “Maybe even sooner than you think, Roguey.”


--- End ---