Jealous rage shot through Wolverine like Greek fire. He left a battered, but healing Sabretooth in a pile of glass on the back patio. Having no other conscious thought between the kitchen and Rogue's room, he never slowed down before charging through her door. The small lock had no chance of survival as he sliced through it.
Hearing the noise, Rogue threw on the favored silk robe and ran out of the bathroom expecting something awful. Taking in Logan's face, twisted into a frenzied mask, she thought she should have prepared for even worse. He was dragging her smaller dresser in front of the door, blocking it since the door knob and lock both dangled uselessly.
"What happened? What are you doing?" she asked, her voice shaky with concern.
He spun around, stalking towards her, his voice loud and snarling.
"What are *you* doing?!" he roared and put his fist through her wall. Logan's body was vibrating with his basest need to tear apart something. Her tall dresser fell victim as he sliced into the wood, shattering the trinkets on its top.
He reached for her then, his hands closing around her arms, drawing her up and into him. "What the FUCK were you thinking? Creed?!! You're playing the whore for Sabretooth?!"
Rogue blanched, dreading what was to come. She couldn't lie to him and even if she remained silent ... he'd know the truth all the same because her eyes always revealed the answers beneath.
"It's not like that," she tried.
"What's it like then?! Tell me what it's like, Rogue!" he bellowed, skewering her with his glare.
She couldn't move, paralyzed by what was happening.
"I'll fucking tell you what it's like!" Logan hissed. "It's like being kicked in the goddamn teeth! I gotta listen to Sabretooth telling me all about what he's done to you, how you taste, how you sound ... in grand fucking fine detail." His grip automatically tightened around her arms.
"Ow, Logan ... that hurts."
"Isn't that what you want? I thought that's how you liked it," he accused, shaking her roughly.
She shook her head in denial.
"What is it *Marie* - is it the animal you crave so much?" he growled into her face. "You shoulda said so 'cause there's an animal that's wanted to fuck you since Laughlin City."
Rogue's eyes grew huge just before his mouth crashed into hers.
The Wolverine wanted vengeance. He wanted to discipline her for letting that other animal touch her. He wanted to punish her for being something that the man thought he could never deserve, but would always ache for. She needed to pay for this thing that lay between them that could not be controlled. The animal knew she belonged to him and raged against the idea of anyone else having her. The anger and frustration penetrated his kiss. It was possessive and bruising and Rogue wondered what it said about her that she welcomed it, glorified in it.
Logan was just as much a catalyst for all that had happened as she or Victor. She had just as much anger and frustration and wanted to unleash it on him. The cause was now the outlet. He could release all that emotion into her, and she could let it all out just as roughly. Rogue sucked on his lips hard, aggressively, using her tongue, but giving into him as well. As their mouths warred, he backed her towards the far window. When he tore his mouth away, his eyes burned into hers, looking for answers. Both of his hands moved to grab the sash around her waist and tugged her forward before stripping the silk off her body.
Rogue stood naked in front of him and the Wolverine wanted to devour her. Any resistance was gone as he decided to take what he'd wanted for years.
A million different thoughts crashed over her at once. The desperate look in his eyes, her own fear and excitement, the knowledge of what was really happening, and her desire for it to happen. She was scared, but she'd never wanted anything more in her entire life. He wasn't looking at her like a 'kid' now; this look was completely different. She'd seen something like it before because Victor had worn a similar look, and wore it proudly several times. But the look on Logan's face was desperate and it said he wanted to swallow her whole; he was going to have her.
His hands kneaded into her warm flesh, rubbing along her ribcage and traveling higher. They were on her breasts, then her arms, her hips, roughly squeezing and petting and she thought she might come just from the anticipation. Suddenly, he stepped back and, panicked that he might leave, Rogue reached out for him but he only stripped off his shirt. She admired the lean muscle contracting along his torso, the bulky muscle of his chest and shoulders. Rogue bit her lip to keep from crying out.
He closed in, moving her backwards. The cold glass of the window shocked her as he pushed her back against it. He buried his face into her neck, breathing in her scent, the soft caress of her hair, the feel of her body pressed against him. A low rumble emanated from his chest and with his mouth and tongue he made a scorching path along her neck, her shoulders, between her breasts, and centered down her stomach. He nipped and bit at her, sometimes causing a prick of pain but driving an erotic charge through her entire body.
Her quick intake of breath cut through the room as Rogue realized what Logan was doing. He wasn't just kissing her; he was smelling, scenting her and marking a path. On his knees, he knelt before her and pressed his face against her thigh and into the vee of her sex. The chill from the window set off the warmth of his hands and the jolt from his hot tongue now licking at her, twirling and toying and making her legs quiver.
"Oh ... god," she moaned and let her head fall back against the glass.
Hard hands shook her roughly against his mouth; bruising her hips and making her look down at Logan. It was a silent command for her to watch him. His gaze shot up while he continued to lave and fondle, demanding that she see him do it, that she know who was making her feel this. Rogue watched the pleasure dance in his wild eyes as she bucked against him, helpless. When her knees buckled with her climax, he held her up against the glass, positioning himself between her thighs. As he hoisted her up, she felt when he freed himself from the jeans, the hard length of him nudging and pushing against her, rubbing against the slick folds.
"Logan ..." she murmured, wanting to kiss his face, his lips.
Pinning her back, his eyes were harsh and accusatory. "Yes. Say it!" he ordered.
Her eyes fluttered as he continued to stroke her, teasing her opening with his cock.
"Logan."
He entered her with one hard, quick thrust. She was so tight, the resistance strained against him and the distinctive, metallic scent of blood floated through the air. Rogue's sharp cry briefly pierced through the lusty haze as the animal inside him howled in triumph at being the first, and the man was shaken with surprise and guilt.
Holding still, he felt her contract and shudder around him. As she clung to him for support, drawing him closer, his entire being called out for more of her. They both breathed heavily and, adjusting, Rogue began to move against him. Wolverine groaned a response, the feel of her around him, touching him, petting his skin; it was beautiful torture. He began to sway, losing balance, and they fell against the bed. Moving and rolling until he lay on top of her, he remained buried inside.
Rogue could feel herself trembling and she needed more. This was all she'd wanted, but there was something just outside of her reach. His hips jerked just as she pressed against him, and it was there, the promise of it. That was what she needed, more of him, harder and faster. He kissed her, but Rogue needed him to lose control, not hold back to protect her - she wanted the soul baring consequence of their union; his utter helplessness in the face of desire. She was losing herself too, and gave it over gladly.
"M-more," she whimpered - and he gave it to her.
Ankles hooked around his waist, drawing him in, and she pawed the air as he continued to drive into her. Rogue's watery eyes were filled with a wildness that spoke to the darker half of him, the half that wanted power and possession, the half that wanted this moment to be devastating for anyone but the two of them.
They moaned and whimpered together. When he withdrew, it was with strong and capable hands that he rolled her over. He rubbed against her, and wrapping one arm around her, drew her to her knees to make room for himself. He drove into her again, the sensation causing her to clench at the sheets.
Wolverine murmured and purred into her ear, driving Rogue towards the edge. He licked at her skin, nipped her back, neck, and shoulders - enticed by the softness of her, so much delicate and bare flesh. Thrusting roughly, she thrashed just as wildly back against him, their climax building quickly. Darkness crept into Rogue's vision, encroaching until she was in complete blackness just before light exploded behind her eyes and throughout her body. She cried out and unable to resist, Wolverine sank his teeth into the back of her neck just as he spilled inside her. Their bodies vibrating from his growl, he continued to moan and whisper her name. Over and over, it was joyful but he was begging, begging her for something beyond his comprehension.
******
Rogue lay sleeping, curled into his side. No sleep was going to come to Logan, however. She looked so gentle and small next to him; so open and trusting. Staring at the hole in the wall and the damage he'd done to her room, it hurt to remember his raving thoughts from earlier - at least the thoughts he could remember. His stomach clenched at the discolored marks on her arms, tiny abrasions scattered all over her skin, bruises he knew his hands left on her hips and a distinctive mark on the back of her neck. He'd lost control, gone too far ... and it was inexcusable. There was never a moment last night when he could've stopped himself. And if she'd refused him? Logan didn't want to think about it. He didn't think he could ever intentionally hurt her, but he'd wanted to erase that other beast from her forever. No one else had come before him though, not in that way. His animal had still wanted what was his, and Logan let it happen. He'd been helpless to stop it. It had been years since he'd allowed that kind of lack in restraint. It wasn't good, it never was - that she could do that to him, it was dangerous. Dangerous for her and for him.
He'd sworn this would never happen. It wasn't supposed to be like this. What were they supposed to do now? How was he going to fix this? This was only going to cause her pain; *he* would only cause her pain. Hadn't he already proved as much? There was no way to slam the door on what happened, but he needed time, a chance. It was all wrong; this wasn't how it was supposed to be. He could figure it out though, take some time and make it right so he didn’t hurt her anymore.
The animal inside him stirred nervously, anxious and in disagreement.
With a shaky hand, Logan brushed a stray lock of platinum back from her face. Lying there with fair skin and bruises, a tangle of silky hair, and her perfect lips swollen and chafed - she looked like innocence spoiled. If he stayed, he'd make things worse, ruin it. His thoughts were fractured and panicked. He had to think ... he needed time ... to figure out how to fix it.
*****
Rogue reacted immediately to the sound of a motorcycle engine turning over. That sound had always and would always mean one thing to her: leaving. She bolted upright in the bed, eyes darting everywhere. He was gone ... and she knew without a doubt that Logan was the one starting the motorcycle.
Covering her aching body in a sheet, she single mindedly ran out of the bedroom and down the main stairs. It was before dawn and no one was around, but if the halls had been crammed with mid-day student traffic, Rogue wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have even noticed. She flew outside to find him tucking something away in one of the bike's saddle bags.
Too stunned to speak, she simply looked at him, wanting answers to questions she couldn't bring herself to ask. Logan's eyes met hers and in them she saw regret and ... fear?
"I ... I gotta go," he sounded broken. He took in the sight of her, wrapped in a sheet that bore the evidence of her innocence. She was still soaked with the scent of what they'd done, just as he wore it on his skin. He could smell them everywhere and didn't want to get rid of it, but he had no idea how to cope.
"You're leaving?" Her voice sounded so small and as she moved forward, the sheet moved, revealing the bruising inside her arms.
He straddled the bike, studying the ground like it held some answers.
Logan was like a wild animal caught in a steel trap. Regardless of the pain it caused, he'd chew through his own limb to be free. It wasn't her fault though. She didn't understand. He needed to figure it out; what he felt and what she made him feel, the lack of control he wielded when faced with her. He'd blocked it for so long, and now that there was no way to deny it, he had absolutely no way to comprehend it.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice sounding almost as small as hers.
"You're sorry?" She couldn't think. She was only repeating what he said in the form of questions. When realization hit her, she repeated it again, only louder. "You're sorry?!"
Panic seized her heart in an icy fist.
"You're running ... you're running away! How can you leave? You can't just leave me!" Rogue felt herself choke on a sob. She couldn't believe he was capable of leaving her after what they'd finally shared. All she wanted was to be near him again.
"I have to go. Chuck's sending me on a job," he said stonily.
Her whole body was shaking, vibrating like delicate glass. "That's an excuse. A lie! You bastard. How can you ... after what happened?"
"It's not a lie - and...I didn't want it to happen, not like that. Not like...I don't want to hurt you! I need you to ... I just need some time. It ... it wasn't supposed to happen, not like this. I'm sorry," Logan looked at her now and his face was drawn so tight and hard that it looked like if she tapped him, he might shatter into a thousand pieces.
Rogue forced herself to stop shaking. He was leaving and there was no way to stop him. Regret - that was what he felt after they'd been together. At that moment she knew, if he could take it all back, he would. He'd take back all of last night and the weeks before, all that he'd given her that meant so much. The coldness that gripped her heart moved to encompass her entire body, making her numb and the moment surreal.
"Go ahead then; turn around and run ... you're good at that," she said, icily. She hoped his heart was breaking just like hers.
He flinched at her words. Logan knew he was hurting her but it would hurt less now than it would later. He also knew that he was leaving her in a house where Creed still remained; he hated it but couldn't do anything about it; he *had* to leave. Even as his animal bellowed and snapped in opposition; Logan knew he had to figure it out and he couldn’t do that here – with her. "Please don't make this harder than it already is,” he pleaded through gritted teeth.
"Fine ... how about I make it real easy for you, Logan," she said, her mind and heart finally frozen numb. She couldn’t handle another second watching him leave without breaking down completely, so she hardened her heart. Rogue turned her back, walking stiffly inside the mansion and closed the door on him.
When the sound of the gunning engine reached her ears, her composure shattered. Leaning against the door, she let the tears consume her.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Rogue threw on the favored silk robe and ran out of the bathroom expecting something awful. Taking in Logan's face, twisted into a frenzied mask, she thought she should have prepared for even worse.