They arrived back at the mansion and found Becky tucked up in bed fast asleep. Logan left Marie with Hank to take blood and DNA samples and went for a shower.
The hot spray stung his skin, but he didn’t care. He was lost in his own thoughts, his head and palms resting against the cold tiles while he tried to calm himself. He was so wound up, dangerously so. He knew he would have to stay in the shower for a while, to gather himself, calm down and to make sure he didn’t get on his bike, go back to that bar and rip Ethan’s insides out through his nose.
He heard the door close, which meant that Marie was back. He could smell her over the steam and water; she was sad, nervous, and scared. He hated it when she smelled like that. It was one of the few times he wished his mutation were different.
She had smelled worse on top of the Statue of Liberty, scared shitless and screaming for someone, anyone, to help her. He had come to her rescue. He wanted to do that now, take away her pain, make her feel better, but he wasn’t sure he could. It was so difficult, so hard to feel like this. All he wanted to do was destroy something, slice, cut, claw and hit, somehow get rid of the dangerous energy gathered in his body.
He washed himself vigorously, trying to push all the evil, vengeful thoughts out of his mind. He was finding it hard. After missions where he had to fight or let it loose a little, he felt something similar: an unfulfilled rage like a lion that didn’t get his fair share of the meat. Normally he could push it all away, make himself calm again, but this was different.
This was about Marie and Becky, the two things in the whole world guaranteed to get a reaction. If Hank’s suppressant didn’t work, Becky could die, and heaven knows what that would do to Marie, or him for that matter. Whatever the genetics, Becky was his little girl.
He had bathed her, changed her and played with her. He was the one she called daddy. He knew that she didn’t like carrots. He knew that she couldn’t sleep without a little blue teddy he had given her when she was a year old. He was the one that noticed how she smirked just like her mother or how she crossed her arms in front of her chest and pouted just like her, too. Him, not some brainless, perverted, junkie asshole, but him.
He banged his head on the tiles a couple of times. He decided his line of thinking wasn’t helping. He was only giving himself more reasons to get angry; he couldn’t and wouldn’t cry, so he usually just got pissed off instead.
He turned sharply when the shower door opened, and Marie stepped in. He kept his back to her as she wound her arms around his waist. “Darlin’, I ain’t good company right now.”
“Well, I am.” She ran her hands up his back; he managed to suppress a shiver. His cock was starting to harden at her touch. But she needed to leave; he couldn’t take out his frustrations on her. Every time they had made love, sex, a quick fuck, it had been out of love, respect and trust, not the need for vengeful relief.
He had been rough, left bruises, but never *hurt* her. He had never laid a hand on her when he felt like this. If he had her now, he knew he would cross the line. It would be for him, hard, rough and demanding. He would show his power and dominance. He would use her body, mark her skin, and remind her soul who it belonged to.
“Marie, just leave me be, darlin’.” She began to feather light kisses on his back. He could smell her increasing musky scent, filling his nostrils and nibbling away at his restraint, like a mouse on cheese.
He was breathing heavily, his shoulders and chest rising and falling in huge movements. Every muscle hard and unforgiving. Her small hands ran over his skin, inflaming it, making his heart beat harder.
It wasn’t just the situation with Becky and Ethan that had him wound up. He had watched her take her clothes off in front of a horde of men whose aroused scents had mixed in with hers. He could also smell Hank on her: no matter how well-intentioned his touch was, he was still another man. The animal inside wanted to re-take its territory, mark its ownership.
He grabbed her hand, pulled her round in front of him, and pushed her roughly face-first against the shower wall. “I told you to leave me be!” His breath tickled her ear as he growled his words, giving her goose bumps and making her shiver. Her scent held fear, but not enough to make him let her go; she would have to stink of it before he would stop now.
Leaning flush against her, he noticed that the fear in her scent was ebbing away and being replaced by excitement. He rubbed his hands roughly down her sides and round to her stomach. He moved one hand down to her pubic hair and roughly cupped her mound. “Logan!” Rubbed none too gently at her clit and she could help but push back against him.
It wasn’t that he was hurting her; she just knew that she was in over her head. She wasn’t stupid, she had never provoked him, and she knew better than to get near him after a mission, but tonight she didn’t expect him to be like this. She wasn’t sure if it was that that made her nervous or the fact that she liked it.
She expected him to slip his finger inside her, but instead he slammed two into her with a growl. She immediately clamped around his fingers, hissing at the pleasure-pain but unable to stop herself from bucking into his large frame.
He held her there, revelling in the sounds that she made. Soft moans of pleasure that mirrored his own need. She tipped her head back, and he took the opportunity to bite her neck, marking her pale skin and making her fling her eyes open wide and yelped.
She was so close to letting go, when he suddenly pulled her out of the shower, his fingers still inside her. “Logan, what the...?”
He shoved her against the bathroom counter, and she winced as the edge dug into her thighs. He was franticly running his free hand roughly over her body, nipping and growling at her back while he pumped his fingers into her, making her coo and moan. He grabbed her hair and wrapped it around his fist, pushing her forward over the counter. He took out his fingers and slammed his aching cock straight into her. “AAHH!”
He pulled her up by her hair so her back was flush with his chest, then raised one of her legs onto the counter and snarled into her shoulder as he pumped into her. She flung her head back and grabbed at her breasts, rolling her nipples between her fingers.
Looking over her shoulder into their large bathroom mirror, Logan snarled at the sight of her touching herself. It made his cock even bigger to see her generous breasts barely contained in her small hands and her dark nipples hardening in between her lithe fingers, her wedding ring glinting in the light reminding him he had her completely.
His fingers dug into her thigh as he tried desperately to hold her still. She was moaning and bucking and wriggling against him. He let go of her hair and put his hand under her chin, his huge fingers gripping her jaw and holding her tightly against him. He was going so hard into her, probably too hard. He had never been this rough with her, fucking her so harshly, taking what he wanted and be damned if she enjoyed it or not. He was going to bruise her, he knew it, but he just couldn’t stop himself.
Her inner muscles began to tense around his cock, and she screwed her face up tightly as her orgasm ran through her like a sharp unforgiving blade. Her body slackened against him slightly, but he didn’t stop.
He pushed her forward and lowered her thigh so both her feet were back on the floor. She was flat on the counter now, her forehead pressed against the cool surface with her hair fanning out over her shoulders. Logan leaned back and dug into her hips as he brought her body back to meet his fiercely hard thrusts.
She was moaning his name and scraping her nails on the counter. Every thrust he made, she cried out at its force. He smirked as he watched her writhe and moan under him, loving the sight of her, the smell of her making him want to go even harder.
“FUCK, LOGAN!” She was getting close again. She knew he couldn’t be too far behind her. She wished he would bite her or something, just a little nip to push her over the edge and take him along with her.
Her body glistened with sweat. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. He was also covered in sweat, and he looked positively lethal: teeth bared, muscles taught and balls deep in the most beautiful woman he had even seen.
He ran one hand over her back and onto her buttock. He smirked again as he raised his hand and gave her a sharp smack. She bucked and squeaked at the sting and immediate burn. It tipped her over the edge when he smacked her again. She grabbed at her hair with her hands and held onto it while she shouted his name.
His fingers dug into her hips again as he came; his sharp rough thrusts making her thighs dig painfully into the counter edge. When she was going through her orgasm, she couldn’t feel it, but now the pain came to her fully
He rested his head in the small of her back breathing heavily. He kissed her and moved away. Picking up a towel, he wrapped it around her as she stood up on slightly shaky legs. When she had finished tucking it under her arms, he lifted her up to sit on the counter.
The first thing he noticed were the red marks on the side of her jaw. Then he gently moved the towel up her legs so he could look at her thighs. He sighed at the angry red line starting on one thigh and carrying onto the other; it would bruise. He undid the towel and looked at her hips, inspecting the damage he had done. There was a full handprint on each, they were pink and would, overnight, turn blue. He picked her up off the counter and lifted the towel to look at her buttocks. An angry red handprint stared back at him, like a neon sign saying ‘bastard’.
She turned around to face him. He looked at his feet and then to her face. He shook his head a little and was about to speak when she put her fingers over his lips. “If you apologise for possibly the best sex we’ve ever had, I will hit you.” He chuckled and kissed her. “You’ve never been like that before. I mean you been rough, but… that was something a bit harder to control, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah.” He took the towel off and picked her up in his arms, carrying her gently to their bed. Once under the covers, she snuggled into him, stealing his warmth and cosiness.
His face was pressed into her hair; he stared at the silky strands just not knowing what to say to her. He really had hurt her, not a love bite or little nips that left a mark, but pain. Even before he met her when he would have a different woman nearly every night, he had never gone that hard, that rough and uncaring.
She shifted in his embrace and pulled back a little so she could look at him. “Logan, it’s ok.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Even though he knew it was about her.
“Logan, it was good, a bit rough, but really good. I’m not complaining. In fact I think I might start bugging you after missions now.” She giggled a little and snuggled into his chest again. He couldn’t help but smile. Even he had to admit it was damn good.
“You’re not there for me to take my shit out on, darlin’.”
“So why don’t you tell me about it, talk to me?”
He rolled onto his back and put his hands behind his head. Marie rested up on one elbow to look at him. “I nearly killed him. I wanted to, I had the perfect opportunity, and I was gonna take it. Pump him full of tranquilliser and overdose the son of a bitch.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Scott said what if Becky finds out, and for a second I honestly thought she wouldn’t, no way would she ever know that. But it would come out, someway or another, and then that little girl would hate me for being a fucking dangerous freak who kills people simply because he can. I want to kill him, Marie.” He rolled on his side and mirrored her position, then gently touched her cheek before continuing. “Right now, I want to drive back over there and beat him to death. Forget the tranq gun. Forget the claws. I want to feel it through my hands. He made you into something you weren’t. He took advantage of you, pumped you full of shit, and then did God-knows-what to you. On top of all that, he put you in a situation where 1): you got used by some asshole you didn’t even know, and 2): you could have died. But it’s not any of that that makes me want to kill him. It’s worse.”
“What then?” He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed with his back to her. She moved out of the covers next to him and lowered her head so she could see his face.
It had been eating away at him, the real reason he hated the bastard so much. “He gave you Becks. I’ve never seen you so happy as when you’re with her. She makes you shine. She brought out so much in you, your courage when you were pregnant and giving birth and everything. She’s so beautiful and full of life and *pep*, for want of a better word. She makes everyone smile, especially you, and I adore her for that, making you happy again, making you want to feel again, rather than hiding in the background. That fucking bastard gave that to you, and I hate him for it, because I wanted it to be me. I wanted it to be me.”
She kissed his shoulder and ran her hands over him. “It is you. Everything is you. Logan, I love you.” She stood up then straddled his lap. “As annoying as it is, I do agree with Scott. I don’t want her to find out about him, but there is always the possibility that she will.”
He ran his hands up her sides and cupped her face. “I love you.”
“I know. It’s ok to hate him and to want to kill him. You’re not the only one, sugar.”
He gently let his fingers slip effortlessly into her soft hair and pulled her down for a kiss. “Let me make it up to you.” He kissed her again and let his free hand rub her breast. She could feel his erection come to life between them.
He stood up and gently placed her on the bed, all the time feathering her with light gentle kisses. He caressed up her thighs and spread them open. His hands roamed over her body as he entered her slowly. Every move he made was slow and gentle, making sure she realised how much he loved her.
This was for her. He cradled her face in his hands as he moved slowly in and out of her. She moaned at him as he took his sweet time, keeping the pace the same, slow and gentle, rubbing his big hands over her breasts and lightly pulling on her nipples.
He had no idea how long they had been going, an hour maybe. He kissed her lips and her jaw, her throat, anything in reach. Both were covered in sweat as the slow intense feeling grew in each of them. When she finally tipped over the edge, digging her nails into his back, her warm pants heating his skin, she took him with her, and they clung desperately to each other. His face buried in her hair and hers pressed into his chest. They broke apart and panted for air.
“We need another shower, darlin’,” he chuckled. She laughed and snuggled into him again; soon they were both asleep.
The next morning both of them were woken up by an earthquake. The bed shook and Logan’s head bounced on his pillow. He shot up and looked Becky straight in the eyes. She was bouncing on the end of their bed, making it shake violently. Marie stirred next to him but made no attempt to deal with the little kangaroo on the end of the bed. “Becks, cut it out!”
“Get up, daddy. I’m hungry, and you snore!”
He laughed at her. “Go get dressed, kid.” She bounced off the bed and ran into her room to get dressed.
He turned over to Marie and pushed the covers off of her. The first thing he noticed was the red handprint still on her ass. She moaned and tried to push him away when he turned her over. She had blue fingerprints on her hips and a blue-and-yellowed line across both her thighs. Thankfully her jaw wasn’t marked.
She opened her eyes and found him inspecting her body. She touched his mutton-chops. “It’s fine.”
“Don’t look fine. Turn your skin on. I’ll give you a boost.”
“So you can spend the rest of the day all groggy and irritable? I don’t think so, sugar. I’ll live.” She stood up and stretched.
“Darlin’, what if someone sees? What are they gonna say? That I’m a mean bastard who roughs up his woman, that’s what.”
“Logan, who exactly is going to see my hips, thighs, and ass?”
“But…but…” He stammered, because no one was ever going to get the view he had right now. She smirked at him and started getting dressed.
After Becky had eaten more than her fair share of eggs and pancakes, they took her down to Hank. He had spent most of the evening working on the suppressant and had finished it that morning. Logan sat Becky on the exam table, and Hank gave her a small injection. When it was all done, Becky ran off to play outside, completely unfazed by the whole experience.
“How long will we have to give it to her?”
“Once every other month until she’s about 14 years old. It seems a lot, but it is quite necessary.”
Marie had her arms crossed over her chest and was inspecting the floor. “What if we carried on giving her the suppressant?” She felt dizzy, but figured it was just her adrenaline pumping a bit too much.
“What? That’s a joke right?” She turned to see the anger in Logan’s eyes, opening her mouth to speak, but deciding against it. “So we, what, just take away her right to this mutation?”
“She could be normal, Logan, just another girl. Just another normal girl.”
“Rather than a freak! Is that what you mean?”
“No, I don’t mean that. I…just, I...”
“Marie, I can’t believe you even suggested that. She grows up with a deadly mother, a lethal father, and a band of aunts and uncles that could wipe out half the known world, and you want *her* to be normal. What if we have more kids? We gonna do the same for them as well? Take it all away, take away their right to be who they were meant to be, turn them into something they’re not? Make them lie and hide for the rest of their lives?” She knew what he was getting at. He meant how the army had tampered with him, trying to make him something he wasn’t.
“No, I just want her to be safe.”
“She is safe, with us.”
Hank, coughed purposefully to draw their attention. “I hate to interrupt, but what Marie has suggested wouldn’t even be possible. She will eventually outgrow the suppressant. Her hormones will take over, and her mutation will manifest anyway. I’m afraid it’s not even an option.”
“Good!” With that Logan turned and walked out of the lab, slamming the door as he went.
Marie found him in the grounds smoking a cigar. His mouth was set in a grim line as he watched Becky play catch with some of the younger kids. She touched his arm, but he shrugged her off.
“Logan…” He turned on her, anger still present.
“What? Huh? You want to say something? Then say it, I’m listening. Jesus fucking Christ, Marie! I can’t believe you would even think about it.” He paced in front of her slightly.
“Logan, she’s just a kid. God knows what way the world will go as far as mutants are concerned. What if there is a war coming? What if she gets caught up in it?”
“Then all the better she has something to protect herself with.”
“Protect herself or give them a reason to hunt her down! Fuck, Logan, you’re not stupid. Think about it. The Brotherhood, fucked-up scientists, the American government, another Stryker, what do you think they would do if they found out about her? A girl who can create anything she wants, and not just as an image--a solid, moving, living thing that can think for itself. Think about it. Now she’s making wolves, but in the future when she has a handle on it, who knows? A wall, a shield, an army of men or a fully-functional tank. She could put the President of the United States in front of you and tell you to kill every living human being on the planet. Tell me that’s not an asset?”
It was her turn to pace in front of him. “Marie…”
“You really think that I would suggest it if there wasn’t a damn good reason? The two of you are all I have, and I will do anything to keep that.”
She stormed off back to their room, slamming the door behind her, and paced around, running her hands through her hair. Her vision swam slightly, and she had to sit on the edge of the couch before she fell over.
She chuckled to herself; it must be the stress. There was no other reason for it. Her smile faded when she realised that she hadn’t felt like that since she was pregnant with Becky.
She got up and went into the bathroom. Opening the small cupboard under the sink, she took out a paper bag. It had three pregnancy tests in it. She and Logan had a long talk about having more children and decided to stop using contraception a month ago and see what happened.
She heard the door open and quickly locked the bathroom door. As she sat on he toilet to do the test, Logan knocked softly. “Darlin’, will you come out here and talk to me, please?”
“I’ll be out in a minute.” She kept her voice clipped, trying to sound annoyed rather than nervous.
She washed her hands and stared at the test. As she dried her hands, the liquid spread across the small window with the line in. The second window instantly started to colour, and after a couple more seconds, a brilliant blue line confirmed her suspicion.
She smiled brightly at the test. She was pregnant, by Logan. Her chest filled with air and began to ache as she held the test close to her. They both had wanted another child, but she feared the impact on Becky and Logan’s relationship.
Not knowing exactly how to handle it, she decided to go for the direct approach. She slipped the test in her pocket and went into the main room. Logan was leaning against the window frame looking out into the grounds. Obviously watching Becky again.
“Ok, look…” He turned around and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I’m sorry about suggesting we keep her mutation ‘off’, but I just want her to be safe. I wasn’t safe, I had to run, and I got lucky, because of you. She might not get lucky, Logan, and I can’t handle that thought. I can’t handle any thoughts of what could happen to her.” She sat on the arm of the couch facing him, still feeling a little queasy. “So how about we compromise?”
“Like how?” He didn’t move, just stood there staring at her with piercing eyes.
“We teach her everything, absolutely everything we know. We make sure she can fight, that she’s strong, smart, everything.” He smiled and looked at the floor. “What’s funny?”
“She’s got more than a damn good dose of you in her. She’ll be all those things and more.” She smiled at him as he opened his arms and gestured to her to come to him. “Come here. I’m sorry I shouted at you.”
She didn’t move. “There something else that’s going to make things a little bit more complicated.”
He crossed his arms again and leaned back against the window frame. “What?”
“I’m pregnant.” She bit her lip, wanted to smile, to beam, to jump in his arms and kiss him till the sun went down, but she wanted to see his reaction first.
He chuckled. “What? What did you say?”
“I said, I’m pregnant.” She put her hand in her pocket and brought out the test, smiling as she gave it to him.
He took it and looked at the lines, nodding. Tossing it over his shoulder, he lunged at her, his hands instantly sinking into her hair while he kissed her passionately. She didn’t need her mutation to feel the joyous emotion pouring off of him. Then as quickly as he had grabbed her, he let go and raced for the door.
“Logan, where are you going?”
He shouted back at her as he got out into the hall. “GOTTA TELL BECKS!”
**********END OF PART EIGHT
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Gamma, again.
Summary: “The two of you are all I have, and I will do anything to keep that.”
Summary: “The two of you are all I have, and I will do anything to keep that.”