Rogue towel dried her hair and slipped into her favorite kimono robe; a black satin one with a barely visible green pattern. No underwear, no nightie, no slippers. She looked into the mirror. The person staring back at her would probably look, to anyone else, like Logan's woman. He'd bought her the kimono last year while he was in Japan. The tiny pendant around her neck was this years birthday gift; an attempt at peace. She was wearing only what he'd given her, but she knew the truth. He may not want anyone else to have her, but he didn't want her for himself either. No. Tonight, what Logan wanted was a trashy, horny, fight groupie.
Hurrying down the empty hallway, Rogue hoped she wouldn't run into anyone...like Scott or Kitty or Jubes, or even worse, Logan. The fight would be well over, but he was probably still with his post fight piece of ass. He'd had his chance. Rogue was hurt, but determined to show him she wasn't a girl that needed protection. She was a woman, and one with needs. Adult needs.
If he wouldn't deliver, Victor would. He didn't see her as a girl and he didn't treat her as one. Sure he was scary, dangerous, intimidating, and more or less without manners or morals. That alone should've kept her from seeking him out, but she didn't care anymore. What difference did it make anyway? It made no sense to hold out for Logan anymore.
Right now she didn't give a damn about anything. Rogue wanted attention, wanted what only Victor could do for her, wanted what he could make her feel. She needed to feel needed and with him, she was all female. She felt that rush of control that a woman could have over a man. It was okay to be wanton, and he'd love it if she was aggressive. She had to knock only once before the door opened.
"Well, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?" Victor said, his voice low and taunting as he cocked an eyebrow at her.
Rogue tried not to scowl at him just as much as she tried to ignore the way his gaze made goose bumps grow all over her skin. The look on his face screamed that he knew why she'd come to his door. She felt naked before him and was unable to stop the heat rushing up to her cheeks. No, he definitely didn't see her as a girl who needed protecting.
It looked like he had just stepped out of the shower - water still dripping from his hair, down his face and body - it was impossible not to stare and admire that chest of his. He'd wrapped a towel around his waist but that didn't stop Rogue from wondering what he'd look like without it. Her eyes lingered there just a fraction too long for Victor not to notice and take advantage of the situation.
He pulled her in and locked the door behind them.
"What's the matter? Not scared of me anymore, angel?" he continued with that same deep, lazy voice.
The comment brought Rogue back to reality as she looked up at Victor. Those black eyes had bled into something darker than she'd ever seen before. Two bottomless wells radiated a hunger so raw and intense she reflexively backed up a step. Staring into them was a thrill, but at the same time it felt like he was eating her alive just by staring her down. He wanted her; it was there in the way he looked at her and the way his body reacted to her presence. No, she wasn't scared of him. She was scared of what he made her feel, because it felt wrong to need what he was. It had to be wrong to want to feel this way and it had to be wrong that her hands itched with the need to touch him.
Nervously, she reached out, the tips of her fingers tracing the hard lines of his broad chest. The feel of his skin, still damp from his shower, and the firmness of the muscles underneath her fingertips made Rogue blush even more. Victor didn't say anything, just held her wide eyed gaze as she unwrapped the towel and let it fall.
There was a hitch in his breathing as he pulled her towards him and once again grabbed her hand, moving it to touch his erection. This time she didn't struggle or pull away, but matched his intent eyes.
"See what you do to me, angel? See the power you have?"
She let her eyes drop and wander over him.
"You wanna have control over me ... don't you?" he offered, leaning in. "It's yours," he whispered.
Rogue forced out any trace of doubt before dropping to her knees. He was magnificent to look at; like something between a dark sensual nightmare and a wild untamed creature; a pure force of nature. A body meant to fascinate and bespell - it was impossible not to want to touch every part of that body, regardless of the soul that lay beneath it.
So hard, so ready - Rogue felt a rush of satisfaction at the sight before her. She didn't have to do anything to make him firm like that. Just the thought of her had been enough for him.
A shiver ran through Victor's body and rippled back into Rogue as she brushed the long hard length of him with the tip of her tongue. She shuddered and heard herself make a small sound, a soft quiet moan. Two hands pushed back the soft brown waves and snow white streaks from her face, and entwined themselves in her hair. He held her in place, but let her decide the pace and what she wanted to do. She was surprised that he was letting her take control, but that power over him felt so, so good. Rogue couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside of her; what fucking him would be like.
Glancing up at Victor through her lashes, she knew he must be thinking the same thing about her, but he didn't make any remarks, didn't taunt or tease her like she'd expected of him. His arousal was so evident to her; the strained breathing, the way he groaned as she sucked him, the way he slowly tightened his grip on her hair. Was he holding back? She wasn't sure, and didn't dare ask; instead she enjoyed the power; enjoyed the sensation of his cock inside her mouth against her tongue, enjoyed the taste of him.
Whatever she'd had with Bobby didn't even come close to what raced through her body now. What Victor made her feel, what he did to make her body react like it did, was completely different. He wasn't a boy, he was a man. Just like Logan. Logan. He wasn't going to change. He was happy with his status quo and he'd never claim her. With Victor, she could have what Logan wouldn't give her. She could have everything ... except the man she wanted.
Rogue knew she shouldn't even be where she was at the moment. She wasn't completely stupid, but her morals had taken a vacation and she hated to admit it but she couldn't help herself. She had something over this man – the man who let no one have anything over him. Victor was close; Rogue knew it as she peaked up at him and swirled her tongue with a satisfied smile. There was a clicking noise - the sound of his claws as they sprang out from each fingertip. This was far beyond playing with fire and she knew it. Dangerous and exhilarating. This was her secret, a forbidden, pleasurable secret that no one else could ever know about. With that last thought she took him as deep as she managed without choking. Moments later he came hard, exploded inside her in waves. Rogue let the warm thick fluid run down her throat, then licked her lips which earned her a pleased grin in return.
Victor hauled her to her feet without a word. He tugged on the sash of her kimono and watched as it slid to the floor. He pressed her up against the wall, and held her gaze while letting his hands travel up and down her naked body; they left a burning, aching path and Rogue threw her head back, unable to withhold another moan. It felt so good, so good and so bad. Her whole being hurt from the need for release that she'd been denied by Logan; a release that Victor brought out by touching her, one that he could satisfy if he just kept going. He leaned in and ran his tongue along her collarbone then slowly journeyed down between her breasts and belly. If Rogue had known how that tongue would feel against her most sensitive parts, delicately coarse like soft beach sand, she would've tried to prepare herself.
Her knees buckled at the fire that spread across her, searing her body and drawing moan after loud moan from her throat. She fought, desperately searching for something to hold on to as wave after wave of lust washed through her body. Why wouldn’t Logan make her feel this? He could if he wanted to, but he wouldn’t. There was only Victor and he was tasting her, teasing her, owning her with his tongue. He held her in place, his hands pinning her hips against the wall, while still buried between her thighs licking her, bringing her closer and closer to sweet release. He brought her screaming, then again and again. She pulled at his hair as the orgasm rode her body until her knees gave way and she slumped forward against him. He caught her in his arms and tilted her chin up so she was forced to meet his black gaze.
"What a tasty ride angel," he murmured. He immediately reverted back to his distanced, smug demeanor. He picked up her kimono and handed it to her. "I could sure as hell make this a habit."
"Don't flatter yourself," Rogue finally managed in response. She was still short of breath as she shrugged on her robe.
Victor gave a laugh that suddenly turned into a purr.
"Then don't come runnin' to me the next time you've been rejected by the runt," he said, opening the door and giving her a light shove out into the hallway.
*********
Rogue fell asleep quickly after washing up and changing into her night gown, but her sleep was restless. Her dreams were mottled with visions of Logan kissing a faceless brunette and images of Victor Creed on his knees before the same woman. The woman was writhing, at the mercy of the man in front of her and loving it. Tossing and turning, she could feel the sensations of this faceless woman; she'd been that woman and perhaps she should feel used ... or manipulative, but she didn't. The dreams made her feel dirty and a little shameful, but they were invigorating. She knew she should feel some kind of remorse for what was happening, but the dream was charged with sexual tension. Rogue whimpered out loud and the sound made her sit straight up in bed.
A stealthy figured moved in the corner.
"Sweet dreams, darlin'?"
It was Logan, and from the sound of his voice, the tequila was still working. She tried to remain casual about his presence in her bedroom.
"What's going on?" she asked, her mind still fuzzy.
He rose from the chair he'd occupied and moved to the foot of her bed.
"I wanted to see you. C'mere," he said.
His voice was deeper, huskier; drawn out and slow from the late hour and the numerous drinks. Rogue had never heard him sound quite like it, but knew a voice like that could work magic. It was as if an invisible cord stretched out from it and roped her in. Suddenly she was standing in front of him, and it took a moment before she even realized that his hands were in her hair, pulling her mouth towards his. She wasn't sure that she'd even woken up yet. Was this still a part of that same tawdry dream?
His mouth was hot against hers, and then his tongue was in her mouth. Rogue closed her eyes; if it was a dream, she welcomed it gladly. Feeling pliant in her fantasy, she reached her hands around his neck and pulled herself up to shamelessly wrap her legs around his waist. Her tongue sought his, sliding against his mouth. When she sucked roughly on his bottom lip, a rumble went through Logan's chest, vibrating against her. She mewled into his mouth when he returned the favor. His hands cupped her bottom and stroked her back, moving her closer against him. Those hands had violently saved her life before; those hands had gently caressed her several times. Those very same hands had been all over a nameless fight groupie only hours ago and probably held her tight while he fucked her.
The image made Rogue's chest burn. Wide awake now, she realized it was no dream, but that Logan had come to her in another moment of weakness. She turned away slightly, not meeting his eyes and his breathing was quick and fiery against her cheek.
"Did you come here to get the taste of her out of your mouth?" she asked acidly, wanting him to hurt the way she did.
"What are you talkin' about?" he said, his face barely brushed hers.
"The groupie?" she turned, their lips almost touching. "The slut that you were banging tonight. Did you come here to get the taste of her out of your mouth?" She enunciated each word with severe accuracy.
Logan raised his eyes from her mouth to clash with her fierce gaze.
"No," he said steadily, even though his chest tightened with the realization that somehow she knew. "I went to her to try to forget about you."
Rogue took a quick breath in, not wanting to believe it. "Liar."
He shifted her against him, her bare legs still tightly enveloping him.
"Does it feel like a lie?" he asked smugly. Pausing, he sniffed the air. "Did it work for you?"
Her eyebrows drew into a crooked line as she looked at him in confusion.
"The guy you were with tonight? Did it help you forget about me?" he continued.
"I wasn't -"
"Don't lie," he stopped her. "It may be too late to know who, but I know the smell of sex."
Rogue tried not to tense up in his arms, but the air was crackling with heat and danger.
"Whoever he is ... does he make you happy?" Logan asked.
"No," she answered.
"He's still a better choice than I am."
She laughed bitterly; if he only knew. "How can you say that? Maybe I don't want 'better'."
"You want a man that comes to you after fight groupies, Rogue?" he asked, every bit as bitter.
She pushed off of him, regaining her footing. "No! But that’s your choice because it's the easy way out. You come here because your guard is down. When your inhibitions are low, you let me in but then shut me out the next second. I don't know what you want." Her body and her voice were shaking now.
With every reserve of strength she had, Rogue moved towards the door. She had to force herself to open it and look him straight in the eye. "And I'm tired of waiting for you to figure it out."
Logan's jaw clenched and unclenched, knowing the battle that she was waging with herself and fighting one of his own. He did *want* her, but he couldn't make her any promises. If only it were that simple. He couldn't even sort out everything he wanted from her, so he sure as hell couldn't ask it. He didn't deserve what Rogue would try to give him either and nothing was going to change that. She'd want more than the physical from him, she'd want his entire being and she'd try to give hers in return. The idea of it was overwhelming. It would bring her misery, but selfishly, part of him longed for it any way. She was right though; he only came to her when he was too weak to fight it anymore and that wasn’t fair. Logan didn’t even blame her for growing tired of it all.
Maybe this other man would make her forget, bring her some happiness. If he did anything short of make her happy, Logan would turn his life into a living hell.
Walking to the door, he stopped and tilted her chin up to look at him. "I just need to know ... you don't hate me," he said, needing to hear the words.
Watery eyes met his. "I don't hate you," she said quietly, and shut the door.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
She felt that rush of control that a woman could have over a man. It was okay to be wanton, and he'd love it if she was aggressive.