He ended up spending most of the day outside, just walking around, and unwinding from their earlier fight. She’d be there when he got back home. Or if she wasn’t she’d come back later. He picked his lunch from the mess instead of going back home. She spotted Marie from the distance few times, going on about her business, and waved at her. She waved back, huge smile plastered over her face.
Sun was already setting when he returned to home, tired to the bone, but first time in weeks relaxed. He kicked off his boots and breathed in deeply, gathering their combined scents floating in the house. Clock on the kitchen wall was ticking, and he could hear Marie breathing in the bedroom. She was already sleeping.
He ate sandwiches he found from the fridge, and flushed them down with some coffee from the thermos. Starting from this evening he was going to spend the rest of the week with Marie. No war. No recruits. No responsibilities. No hesitations and fears. Just him and Marie.
He stripped off his clothes in the kitchen, then snuck quietly past sleeping Marie to the bathroom to wash off the dirt and dust that had gathered on him during the day.
Water was lukewarm. There really was no need to heat it in the middle of the desert. You got cold and lukewarm to balance out often inhumane, scorching heat of the sun.
He stretched and lathered himself with rather generous amount of soap. Again one of the small luxuries. Real soap. Marie had used the soap bar earlier, her scent was still on it, faint but traceable. He rubbed it in, covered his whole body with frothy suds. It felt almost an offence to rinse it off.
He toweled himself dry and patted in to the bedroom. Marie was still sleeping, on her stomach on top of the covers. Last rays of the sun made her skin glow warmly. He discarded the towel and crawled next to her, nuzzling his face against her side, taking in her scent, enjoying the soft texture of her skin under his lips. She murmured in her sleep and curled on her side, turning her back at him. He traced her vertebra with his tongue, landing soft kisses to scars adorning her back. She moaned and wriggled again, on her back this time. He continued his explorations, licking her left nipple; moisturizing it and then blowing against it, making it turn in to a taut pebble. She gasped and arched her back.
“It better be you, Logan…”
He could smell her sleepy arousal when she moved again, turning on her side, scooting her back against his chest.
“I’m kind of tired… It has been a long day…” She muttered, rubbing her buttocks against his growing erection. He chuckled, peppering her neck and shoulders with small kisses.
“Trying to give me blue balls?” He whispered, his lips grazing her earlobe.
“I have a feeling that I don’t even have to try to make it work…” He heard her answering. She wasn’t as sleepy as she pretended to be, he could hear definite smirk in her voice.
“No. You won’t… But are you sure you want to?” He asked, thrusting lightly against her lower back. She grasped his arm and brought his palm over her ribcage to cup her breast.
“Hmmm… It would be a shame to waste such fine specimen of… Of… Oh…”
He scooted lower on the bed and pushed his cock between her thighs, letting it slide over her already slick and wet crevice, nudging her clitoris. Gauging her reactions.
“Is this okay?” He asked, wrapping one arm more firmly around her, nudging the other under her neck, efficiently anchoring her against him. She brought one hand up, grasping his hair and pulling his head forward, reaching little awkwardly to kiss him.
“Better than okay…”
They ground against each other lazily, their hips never parting. He could feel her getting wetter every passing moment, and it was absolute torture not to plunge in, but he held back. It was good, and it was only going to get better if they waited. Her hand clasped his thigh, nails digging in every time he bumped against her clit. He peeled her fingers off when he could smell the blood. She grasped his palm instead, squeezing with all her worth, her breath escaping with small uttered curses and hisses.
“Christ… Just fuck me, Logan… Please…”
She needed more. Her abdomen was on fire, and Logan kept denying her the only thing that would have banked those flames, teasing her with his rock hard cock. She could feel his pre-cum covering her crevice, mixing with her own arousal, sliding inside of her and creating delicious, tingling sensation, but she needed more. She needed all of him inside of her. And no matter how hard she tried; he managed to slide free from her traps, just barely entering before returning to torment her overly sensitive clitoris.
She was going insane. She was going to turn to a babbling, incoherent idiot soon. His fingers were squeezing and tugging her nipples, making her arch against him and moan, and he kept nibbling and licking the side of her throat and her neck, murmuring small encouraging whispers which made her insides quiver and melt. She was ready to explode. She wanted to grab him and take him, but she had no strength left.
Then she felt it. His cock, slowly sliding in, filling the aching void.
“I love you, Marie…” She was already beyond caring, her muscles clenching greedily around his shaft, pulling him deeper when she came apart, wrapped tightly in his embrace.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Help! Logie stole my keyboard!
*Ignore her. It's my turn.*
*Ignore her. It's my turn.*