The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the final part. Hope everyone has a good Christmas :o)
When your pulse thuds.
When your blood thickens with lust. With anticipation.
When you wait for her reaction. Watching with a predator's eye; the way her expression slides through emotions. Confusion, disbelief. Nervousness. The way it settles on something deeper. Something older. Something she's not sure of.
Hesitation.
Did you really say it? Did you mean it?
Questions you don't know how to answer. Not with words anyway. So you lean closer. Tilt your forehead against hers until you can feel the slant of her breath across your face. Knowing it's wrong to push her. Not being able to do anything but, because... fuck you need this.
Barely an inch between you.
And you're waiting.
She swallows, and your stomach clenches. Her eyes darkening with the knowledge of what her answer will mean. But she doesn't speak. She doesn't rush. Instead she finds your hand, slowly lacing her fingers through each one of yours... until they fit. The simple gesture fine tuning every nerve in your body.
Yes.
God. The way she looks up at you through those lashes of hers. The way it sends your thought all directions at once; none of them innocent.
She lets you lead her through the darkness, senses racing as you pull her away from the sights and sounds of the celebrations, away from her friends, back to the rooms she doesn't know. Back to the rooms that are yours.
What it feels like when she looks at you, all nervous trust and warmth. The way your heart pounds so fucking hard it hurts. She jumps slightly as you shut the door behind you, and the feeling jolts right through you. The knowledge of what you are about to do crackling like electricity over your skin. Over her skin.
Stepping closer. Fingers going to the streaks in her hair; somewhere familiar. They've been there before. Flickers of memories. A raised eyebrow in a doorway, and a sassy reply. I kinda like it. Safe ground.
But her pulse is humming beneath her skin, and you let your hands slide lower. Watching her face as you cross those barriers. Down the soft green of her sweater, hitching into the belt loops of her jeans. Pulling her closer. Standing on that precipice. Accusations running furiously through your thoughts; screaming reasons why you shouldn't be doing this. She's young. She was your student. You're taking advantage.
And none of them making a damn bit of difference.
Because when lower your head and feel that shiver running through her. When your mouth finds the heat of hers, when she kisses you back just as damn hard, lust kicks through you like a violent drug that pulses through every muscle in your body, until the only thing that you know is that this is exactly what you need.
Hungry against the softness of her mouth; her fingers curling hard into your side as you taste her. Hands drawing her closer. Deeper. Thumbs wondering upwards on her hips, impatiently sliding up the dark green material, shuddering as hers find their way under your shirt.
You watch the way her pupils dilate when you take her hand and slide it downwards, press it against you. Feel her breathing quicken at the groan that escapes you.
God, you shouldn't be doing this. You should not be here. She shouldn't be here. But there's no fucking way you are going to stop.
Clothes begin to form a puddle around you. Her hands fumbling with the newness of it all; yours leading, showing. Teaching her things she shouldn't be learning from you. Drowning in the softness of her skin and the sounds she makes. The things you whisper in her ear. The way the bed sinks beneath you; her hair fanning out across the white of the pillow; your arms straining with your weight. The swollen surge that rocks through you as you... you... God...
Fists clenching into the sheets beside her. The heat that every movement brings. Your name tripping off her lips, lost amongst the soft cries that drive you to a frenzied edge. The way her legs scramble higher on your hips as you thrust your body into hers again and again and again. Sweat trickling down your back. Life surging through your veins. Forehead to forehead as you loose yourself in her, strangled sounds of pleasure torn from your lips as her body writhes into yours and everything that's consuming you is ripped from you.
Until you're spent.
Until you're dizzy with sated lust and warm exhaustion.
And you realise that you're nothing without this.
So you wrap yourself around her, breathing in the liquid way she looks at you, and you don't give a damn about what the rest of the world may think. Hands smoothing over her skin until her heartbeat begins to slow, and her eyelids drift heavy with sleep.
And as you shift lazily between that veil of waking and oblivion, you clutch one thought like a lifeline.
This time, you'll do anything to make her stay.