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Prompt# 39 – Washing – “All He Had To Do”
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Logan ran the washcloth across Rogue’s collarbone, applying enough pressure to send small rivers of soap suds down her breasts, over her flat ivory stomach, and down into the dark curls below her waist. A small sigh escaped Rogue’s mouth and Logan allowed a slight smile to his face. He reluctantly tore his gaze away from the bubbles disappearing between Rogue’s legs and looked back up at her face. She was watching him and when he met her eyes a blush crept up her face and down her chest, turning her body a healthy shade of pink. Only with Rogue would her innocent blushing become a huge turn on for him. The idea that he was the first to touch her this way, the first to be allowed - to be trusted - this close to her bare but deadly skin, and the knowledge that she would probably blush for years to come, had Logan rock hard, heavy and solid against his stomach.
The corner of her lips twisted up into a small smile. “I’m still waiting to be washed, Logan. If you wanted to watch, you could’ve asked,” she teased him, her voice slow and thick like molasses.
Logan blinked and slowly slid the washcloth down her chest, twirling it around her breast. He took care to rub its slightly rough surface against her nipple. He twisted the hardening nub, pulling on it enough to earn a gasp from Rogue. Her head fell back, thudding against the shower wall, baring her neck in invitation. Logan bent his head, flicking his tongue up the column of her neck too quickly for her mutation to react. Her moan, low and throaty, reverberated around the bathroom. She was killing him without even realizing it.
He added a little more soap to the cloth and gave her other breast and nipple the same attention. Rogue was moaning, unable to keep quiet, at the attention. Her eyes were wild, crazy with an overload of pleasure, and fixed on Logan. He leaned in and kissed her. His lips pressed hard against hers, his tongue demanding entrance into the dark, warm, wet recesses of her mouth. The first pull of her mutation had him reluctantly ending the kiss.
The washcloth was ripped out of his hand and wrapped around his erection a moment later. He knew his eyes were wide with shock when he met hers. “All you had to do was ask,” she muttered and then he was groaning as she did a wrist flick that almost did him in. And where in the hell had she learned to do that? “It’s what you like right?” her voice broke through the pleasure haze she’d put him in. Apparently he had muttered that last thought out loud. “You…it is right, right?” her voice suddenly soft and unsure, while the grip on his dick loosened.
His hands were tangled in her hair, as close to her face as possible. “Rogue,” he started and then cleared his throat before starting again. “It’s perfect Marie. It feels wonderful. You’re a natural,” he rambled in an attempt to reassure her.
A startled smile graced her face, followed quickly by a deep red blush. “Well I’ve got you in my head. It’s been pretty useful,” she confessed, blushing even further. Logan cocked an eyebrow at that little admission. He could only nod as Rogue tightened her grip and went back to showing him everything else she had learned.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
“I’m still waiting to be washed, Logan. If you wanted to watch, you could’ve asked,” she teased him, her voice slow and thick like molasses.