It took them two days to get to the small logging town he’d passed through on his way north. The truck was a heap, he’d tackled three oil leaks, a leaking radiator and soft brakes. His patience was seriously thin. The only good thing about those two days were the conversations he’d had with Damask.
Why name her Damask?
She’d asked him last night as they made themselves comfortable in their beds (she got the small mattress, he slept in the front seat.) what his favourite smell had been. It didn’t take him long, he remembered the rich perfume of the roses at the school. Drinking it into him he’d watched Jean cutting the flowers for her room, he’d asked her what they were and she’d told him. Deep Red Damask Roses.
The memory was a good one and he shared it with her, the way the sunlight lit up her skin and how the red of the roses was so deep it was almost like blood. Damask had asked him how he’d killed Bud, the question had surprised him and he hadn’t answered her. He’d asked her to go to sleep, they had a long days ride ahead and God knew how many stops to fix this old heap.
Now the truck was up in an inspection bay being looked over by a mechanic who was looking rather puzzled. He looked at him, “What is it? And how much to put it right?” The mechanic wiped his hands on a rag and climbed out of the pit. Small and wiry he didn’t look like your typical mechanic but his eyes were honest and his fingers nimble.
“The whole brake systems shot, your discs need replacing and your lucky to get here alive with that leak in the gas tank. Just glad it’s been snowing or you’d be dead by now bud.” His face showed actual concern for his plight and he wondered how long it would last if he knew what he really was.
“Like I said, how much?” The man looked him up and down obviously setting his price based on the clothing he was wearing. What he saw did not inspire confidence.
“Well, brand new we’re talking around a grand for each but second hand around seven-fifty. Can you stretch to that? Even less if you can help out.” Smiling Logan picked up a wrench and hopped down into the pit.
“Well, we’d better get started then.”
***********************************************
The small motel room he’d found was dingy but clean, he’d left her there in front of the small heater exploring the room by smell and touch. Knocking quietly at the door first, he let himself in. The room had been re-arranged, the bed was now next to the heater on one side, the chairs had been put together to form another bed, the small table had what was left of their food prepared and laid out. She was in the small bathroom washing her hands when he came in. He could smell her stronger now, the enclosed warmth made it seem heady and sweet. Turning toward the door she smiled as she recognised his scent, “You're back. What’s the verdict? Are we mobile or stuck here?” as she approached she smelt the oil and grease that still covered him. “Ah, that bad then.”
“Hold out your hands,” she did so gingerly. He placed the small sack of goods in her hands. There was something from the small store that he knew she’d need soon, his nose never lied to him and it didn’t now. Excited she went straight to the bed and started to unpack it, comb, toothbrushes, paste, de-odorant and a small box. Her fingers traced the slight raised letters and her face bloomed red. Her voice was small as she spoke “Thank you. I didn’t know I’d need them so soon. I tended not to notice that much before.”
Quickly taking the things into the small bathroom she placed each item carefully, including the special box. He watched her discomfort about something as simple and natural as her own period. She’d have a few lessons to learn when they got back to the school, if they got back at this rate.
Tired he pulled one of the small padded chairs out of its configuration and sat down. Picking up a lump of cheese he stuffed it into his mouth and moaned heavily, he forgot how good things tasted. Especially when on the road.
He watched as she brushed her teeth, using small delicate strokes, her eyes following the brush handle in the mirror. How many other simple things had she been without? How would she cope with the school? All those hormone driven young boys for start, she’d be the bomb, literally. He could see them all watching her, drooling after her as she walked by, just a slight scent of her would drive those guys insane. It was all he could do not to touch her himself.
His mind went back to their first night in the truck. She’d been asleep on the small bed and he’d been woken by a deer sniffing around outside. Annoyed he taken a deep breath and had been assaulted by Damask’s peculiarity. She was all around him, the sweetness of musky sexuality of her was everywhere, inside his lungs, inside his mind. The animal rose to this new and exciting smell, he was out of the front seat and making his way to the bed before he’d caught himself. His hand was reaching out for the cover to get into bed with her and looking at himself he hadn’t just been wanting to keep her warm.
His mind had seethed with shame that night and he’d pushed the thoughts down and into the truck, if he could get the damn thing going he could make it. She’d be safe and he’d be away from the temptation. Yet underneath it all, he really wanted to feel her skin next to his, to feel her fingers trace over his flesh, to hold her small frame in his hands and show her that sex isn’t pain but beautiful and deep.
The animal just leered at her small frame and wanted her now! He wasn’t going to lower himself to their standards, they called themselves human but acted more like the animal they called him. Turning around he went back to his bed and tried not to think about the small fragile body behind him but the ache in one part of him took almost all night to subside. Making him cranky and snappy the next day.
“So what’s the town like?” Her voice snapped him out of his memory, she was stood in the doorway. Leaning on the frame, a small smile on her lips and for a moment he saw Marie not her. Blinking away the vision he straightened up.
“Same as any other. A few stores, a bar, garage and pump, one road in and out. Not much else to see.” She walked over to the bed and sat down, just glad to have his company, not to be alone anymore.
“Can I go to the bar?” Her question floored him. He looked at her face with incredulity, she had to be joking surely. He’d been around the town, there weren’t many women here and if they caught scent of her she’d be back in the same situation she’d just come from.
“Not a good idea Damask, there’s not many women here and with your”, he struggled for the right word “Ability. You could get into a lot of trouble real quick.” Her head hung down as the words hit home. Pulling her legs up onto the bed she huddled next to the heater, her scent being thrown around the room by its convection. He knew she was annoyed, but the smell of her was overwhelming. The room seemed too small all of a sudden and he needed to get away, away before he did something he’d regret. Standing up quickly, all the tiredness seemed to have left him and his skin was filled with fire. Only her hands on him would put it out and he couldn’t do that, so he’d leave. “I’m going back to the truck. Try to get some more work done.” Her face turned to watch him leave but he knew her nose had caught the true reason, he’d wanted to but he hadn’t.
**********************************************
The snow was coming down again as he entered the workshop, looking for the mechanic he wasn’t surprised that he wasn’t there. Checking on the truck, he found the new brakes had been fitted and the hole in the radiator had been fixed. Hopefully they’d be out of here tomorrow. Walking to the bar he went inside and found the little man eating his dinner. The smell of warm food made his mouth water, he needed to be filled by something and food would do for now. He couldn’t answer the other hunger that gnawed at him, the one that involved Damask and the bed.
Seating himself next to the small mechanic ordering his food and exchanged news with him. The little man had lots of ideas but no money to make them happen, he found himself getting to like the little guy. After they’d both eaten they talked some more over the hockey game that was playing on the old tv in the corner. Here he could just be another man passing through he had no past, no pain, just another human being passing the time with another. The night went on, as did the snow.
Falling heavily now, the reflected light made the bottles behind the bar sparkle. Beer went to whiskey and back to beer. Slowly getting drunk he realised that it might be time to get back to Damask, she was alone again in a room where the outside was a prison as much as it was the last time. But she had the heater didn’t she? She’d be fine, he was sure of that. Upturning the bottle he found he was dry and the barman had gone to bed, the small mechanic was asleep on the bar and he had the whole place to himself. Throwing down a fifty he reached under, brought out a bottle and sat in an old booth and drank till he fell asleep.
Cold woke him the room was freezing. All the lights were off and his breath plumed in the air in the bar. Shaking himself sober he pushed his way out of the booth and looked out of the bar’s window. Snow was drifted up against the glass, what he could see in the pre-dawn light was a town without power. All the heat had been leeched out of the room by the open glass, his eyes searched for the heater and he found it. Just like the one in the motel and it was cold to the touch.
Damask!
Pulling the door open he entered a freezer, the wind was cutting even to his skin. Frost formed on his hair and skin as he struggled through the drifts to the small motel. The snow had piled up against the back wall of the building, leaving the open forecourt clear. Shaking off as much snow as he could he went to their door and opened it.
His breath plumed in here, it was as cold in here as it was outside. Shutting the door tight behind him he looked for her, he found her wrapped up on the bed shivering with cold. Her skin was blue and her lips were pale. He had to get her warm or he’d lose her. He had no choice now, he had to hold her.
Sliding off his wet clothes he shuddered in the cold room, opening the covers he climbed in and pulled her small form toward him. Her skin was icy and it leeched all the heat from him in seconds. Her body uncurled and sought the source of heat, pulling herself closer until she was almost inside his skin. As she warmed, her scent bloomed again and he couldn’t get away from her this time, she needed him.
With her head on his chest she slowly came round from the cold, her eyes opened and she tensed, sending fear rippling through him. Did she think he was going to hurt her? Then she relaxed again, her muscles flowing into the warmth he provided. “I’m sorry” the words didn’t seem enough. He’d left her alone in a strange place, with no way of getting out and hadn’t thought about her if the worst had happened, which it had. Bringing her head up to look in his face she answered.
“What for?”
“For leaving you here alone, in the cold.”
“But you came back didn’t you?” her voice small and rich in the darkness, matching the scent that rose from her as she warmed up. He looked down into her eyes and knew that she could see him, if not with her eyes then with her fingers, they traced the patterns of scars around his back and over his shoulders. He watched her face change as she discovered each new scar, touching and exploring each ridge and furrow.
Trying to think of the snow outside, the cold, anything but what was happening to him right now. Her breath tickled him, as did her short hair, her shirt rubbed against his bare skin and he felt the animal rise. Growling softly his hands slid under the shirt, gently stroking her mottled skin, pushing his hand under the waistband of her trousers he found the smooth rise of her hips and began to lose control. Looking down at her he had to know, “Do you?” he never got to finish the sentence as her mouth met his and he knew the answer to his question.
He ached for her, but it wasn’t just her gift that did this. He needed to feel again, to feel alive, to touch another person who wanted him to. Not just the touch of a killer, who could feel through his claws but the touch of a warm living being who wanted him to touch them. Her breath was sweet as their lips parted, her eyes glowed in the darkness with an urgency he had never seen before, did he do the same to her as she did to him? Had she been waiting too, hoping for the right moment? He knew her sense of smell was as good as his, did he make her need him, was that it?
“I need you,” her voice honey coated and dark pulled him closer to her and his hands gripped her slowly warming flesh. She could smell his confusion and she provided the answer. “You won’t hurt me, I just need to feel you, with me, in me. After everything that’s happened I just need one good memory, one good thought to hold onto. Can you give me that? Could you?”
His hand moved to her chin and he raised her head, looking at her eyes brimming with diamonds he kissed her, softly, tenderly. Even though he wanted to rush, wanted to be an animal, he didn’t. He unbuttoned her shirt slowly, making each touch of her skin count. It wasn’t just her fingers that were sensitive, it was all of her skin.
Pulling off the shirt and trousers he put them under the pillow, to keep them dry and warm. Leaving her with the long johns, all soft and warm against her skin, skin so sensitive that the burns must have been excruciatingly painful. His hands deftly avoided each one, tracing the unblemished skin around them. Turning the pain into pleasure. Her small breasts budded as he touched her skin, his fingers gently caressing each smooth inch of her, taking his time, making it last, making a memory.
Stretching her out by the side of him, he eased his thigh between her legs. Moving her so she was straddled across him, his eyes boring into her as he watched her as she moved against him. She knew what she wanted all he was doing was helping her to get it, without pain, without force, just helping her feel. Holding her steady and tight she rode him, each new movement bringing more colour to her face. Her head against his chest her breath came in gasps as she thrust against the hard muscle of his thigh, his own sex swelled as he smelled her spicy scent mixed with dampness. Hand holding the small of her back tight against him, her delicate fingers digging into the flesh of his shoulders. Her movements becoming faster, stronger, his finger brushed her small nipples and he watched as she found the memory she’d needed. Her body arched as the waves of pleasure filled her and rolled over her small frame, flushed pink her face lifted to his and she kissed him hungrily.
Her scent filled his small warm world, he ached for her and he wouldn’t be denied now. Manoeuvring her off his damp thigh his fingers sought her under the soft fabric, her face flushing again as he touched her and sending shudders down her back. Her hips moved to allow him access to her, sliding his fingers slowly and gently into her warmth. Growling softly at the heat he found there, her delicate hands found him and moved over his already strong erection. Her touch was electric, now he knew why they’d kept her, her touch fired nerves to their limit and beyond. He’d never felt this way with anyone, but this was a lie, there was someone. It had happened nearly two years ago, when he’d first gotten involved with the school, when he’d nearly killed Marie. His mind recoiled from the memory and he moved away from Damask, shocked by what he’d admitted to himself.
Damask opened her eyes and looking up at him wondered if she had done something wrong, he could smell her doubt and guilt. No, he wasn’t going to make this a painful memory for her. Moving closer he added another finger to his already exploring two and he felt her give and melt under him. Her hands slid the soft fabric down over her legs and she sighed with the feel of the material as it slid off her skin. Leaving them in the warm bed she laid herself flat, ready for him, wanting him to take her. But not like that, she was the one in control here, not him.
Moving her up and over, he positioned himself under her. Pulling out the shirt from under the pillow he put her in it, feeling the warmth from her on his stomach and making him ache even more. “Keep you warm,” was all he managed to say as he slid further down the bed, his face now inches away from her heat and smell. Unsure of what he was doing she held the folds of the shirt shut until his tongue touched her, then it no longer mattered. Using his hands to support her thighs across his shoulders, tongue tracing her sweetness her felt her shudder and her breath hold. Smiling, he kissed her lips and found the source of her scent, her pleasure.
Moving his tongue over the raised nub he felt her rock backwards as if punched and he had to grab her tightly to keep her straight. Moving back up the bed, her body still arched from his tongue he slid himself underneath her. Her face was up at the ceiling as he gently brought her down on him, she was like silk, tight, hot and wet. He gritted his teeth as he fought the urge to come there and then as he filled her. She snapped her head down as they locked together, her light frame filled by him, her eyes expressive and wild. Gently moving her forwards he felt himself move inside her, entering her fully. Her own hands traced around her skin, touching her nipples making them hard. Moving himself upward till he was supported by the wall, her straddling his hips. He needed to see her face, to watch the emotions pass across it, to feel what she felt.
Her hands pushed against his chest as she moved herself back and forward, he could feel himself sliding inside her. His grip on her tightened as she began to speed up. Her face flushed and red she gasped again as the wave rode over her, voice hoarse as she spoke. “Fuck me, please. Let go Logan, you won’t hurt me.”
Inside the animal howled and broke free, pushing himself up from the bed in one movement, holding her in his grip and turned her against the wall. Snarling he pressed her back to the wall, using it as support. His eyes burned into her face as his hands brought her hips downward, hard into him, thrusting himself even deeper into her. Using his strength he pushed her across the wall, her face buried in his neck, biting the skin there, making him growl and exciting him further. He could feel it rising, felt the familiar tickle as fluids moved.
His hands moved from her hips to her shoulders, wrapping her thin legs around him he pushed off away from the wall and stood supporting her. He could feel himself rising, he was nearly there. “Look at me, lift your head up. Look at me.” The words came out quick and aggressive, her head snapped up and she looked at him, face to face. Her milky eyes scanning his face as he pulled her face to his, as their lips met he came inside her. Shuddering in its intensity he held her tightly against him as filled her with himself. He could feel it flow from her, running down his thigh making him hard again. Pulling back he watched as tears began to flow from her ivory eyes, holding her close, still inside her he let her cry.
Standing he slowly moved himself deeper inside her again, the tears cleaning the pain away, the pleasure and comfort healing the scars of her ordeal. She was in control here, it was what she’d wanted, he’d do anything she wanted him to. He growled softly in her ear, pulling her down on him again and making her gasp. They weren’t finished yet, dawn light was pushing under the door but he wasn’t tired, not by a long way.
Moving back to the bed, he laid her down gently and stroked her tears away with his fingers. Looking at her laid out on the bed, her flesh pink and warm, she could have passed for normal if it wasn’t for her eyes. A pang of guilt rode in on his happiness, he’d used her like they had, gotten what he’d wanted. Feeling his discomfort she touched his face and felt the lines there.
“What’s wrong?” His hand came up to hold hers, stroking the fine delicate skin.
“Is this what you wanted? It’s just that I feel like, I’ve used you, to get what I wanted. If I have I…” His voice trailed off, unable to even think of what he would do if he had but already the warmth was slipping away, being replaced by anger and shame.
“No, no. Logan, I needed you. I asked you, I made the first move. You didn’t hurt me,” tears sprang anew, from both of them this time. “I only asked you to give me a memory, you’ve given me much more than that. You've given me, 'me'.” Holding her head close to his chest he felt her tears run down into his hair, feeling his own roll down his face. To have someone to hold him while he cried, being fragile and open. How many other times had he dreamed of this, when he had been alone, afraid and distant from the world. How many times had he wanted it to be Jean? Lifting her head she kissed the tear trails and followed them to his eyes, her lips soft and warm, stirring him back into life.
“It my turn to help you, I’m here and you're not alone anymore. Not today, we’re alive and warm, lets just concentrate on that. Let go Logan, let me help you feel again.” Her face flushed a little as she spoke, “It hasn’t been easy for me either, you have a scent too. Something, maybe it’s your animal, the one that’s inside. It calls me.” The last few words were quiet and he moved his head down to look at her.
“What?” Looking up into his face her tears stopped and dry she explained.
“I was serving drinks by the Cage when I caught you, you passed by within a couple of feet but I felt you. Something sent a shudder down me and I carried on serving, until the fight. I’d hidden myself next to the Cage, trying to get away from Chet, that’s when he saw you inside and decided to have a go himself. I’m glad he got beaten.” There was a touch of iron in her voice there and she tightened up against him, brushing her nipples against his chest. Making him ache for her again but he wanted to hear her out first.
“I could sense you in there, like a tiger, pacing and pacing, raging all the time, needing to fight or to be hurt. You overwhelmed me and I went back to the bar. Then I passed you again, closer that time and I breathed you in, your surprise and your interest. So I waited near the bar, just in case. Chet was the favourite and you won, so you could have been killed and I didn’t want that.” Her face blushed, “I needed you, I wanted you, there. So I just loosed my ‘gift’ on them and you got away, it was just bad luck that Bud caught me in the diner. But it turned out for the best didn’t it?”
He knew the question was there and she gave it voice, “You never did answer me about that, how did you do it? I never felt anything, he’d finished and then he just wasn’t there anymore. I need to know Logan, for my peace of mind, that he’s not just injured somewhere and going to come back for me.” Her voice tightened as she spoke, Bud had been her main tormenter by the sounds of it and she needed to know. He just hoped she didn’t run when he showed her.
“Okay, give me your hand”, he took her hand gently and laid it on the back of his own, her fingers just resting above where the blades appeared. Slowly he released the blades in his arm, the flesh separated as the blade sliced through his flesh. Her breath caught as she felt it come out of the back of his hand, her fingers deftly touching the warm metal. He could feel her touch on it, gentle, soft, like snow. Her fingers moved across his hand touching the other two blades that forced themselves from his skin. New tears sparkled in her eyes and he thought that she felt pity for him, for what he was.
“You killed him, with these?” Her voice sounding uncertain and hesitant, he didn’t answer her, he just nodded and waited for her voice to show disgust. She didn’t speak for a moment, silent tears falling like diamonds in the pale dawn light. He almost missed her voice when she spoke. “I’m free.”
She turned her face into his and whispered her delight into him, “He’s dead isn’t he? He’s never coming back, you killed him, for me.” His heart jumped when she spoke, he’d been waiting for her to pull away from him, to feel pity and disgust at what he was. She hadn’t she held onto him all the tighter as he explained what they were and how he’d got them, what little he could remember.
“So you’re kind of a knight then? Only with the armour on the inside?” He’d never thought about it that way maybe that would explain why he’d walled off so many emotions inside. Encased in adamantium he had no way of releasing what he felt, except through his extensions, his claws. They talked until the heat came back on, holding each other and just feeling the sensation of being with someone.
When the room was warm they had sex again, slowly, exploring everything within themselves as they did. He ran the backs of his claws down her skin, feeling her writhe under them as the warm metal met her flesh. Making him aware that he could use them for other things than just killing, he could feel with them too.
Letting him take control this time, comfortable with him being there, in charge. He wouldn’t hurt her he couldn’t hurt her. As he moved them over her chest his mind brought back the picture of Marie, skewered on his claws. Could he remember what that felt like? Sheathing the blades he paused as they retracted and tried to remember, did she hurt or was she afraid? How had she felt? He’d never thought to ask her, until now.
Concentrating on Damask he turned her onto her knees, moving up behind her, he slid one hand under her, raising her hips toward him. His fingers playing in the soft folds of flesh, already warm and wet, he heard her gasp as his fingers played there. Sliding himself in slowly, feeling the sides of her part to allow him entry, then close, gripping him tightly. Feeling as if they were one body. Pushing gently he supported his weight with one arm, not leaning on her or crushing her with his weight. She was free to move on his hand and she did so, pushing her hips backward to meet each thrust. Moving his hand to support her weight, he freed her hands and she stroked her own breasts, shuddering at the pleasure she found there. Closing his eyes he felt with his senses, the silk like movement of her hips against him, the slide of muscle with each thrust forward and the pressure of her hips as she ground herself against him.
His mind threw a vision of Marie under him, face red and skin hot to the touch. Her breasts bare and her hand holding him in way he hoped she didn’t know. Pushing harder into Damask as the vision unfolded in his mind, Marie’s lips on his, hot and sweet, tasting of the cherry gloss she used everyday. Grabbing her hair and smelling it as he pulled back her head to gnaw on her neck. Each thrust gaining momentum, every push back harder than the last, he could feel the flow again, coming from his feet, up through him, past the vision of Marie into the reality of Damask.
As he filled her, he growled Marie’s name under his breath. He hoped Damask hadn’t heard him, he didn’t want to upset her. But he needn’t have worried, her own mouth was forming the word ‘David’ as he reached over and laid her back down on the bed. Muscles still shuddering from the effort he reached around her front and let his fingers play a while, let her enjoy his memory a little bit longer. She finally fell asleep after three shuddering fits that made him wonder if she would ever stop needing more. He needed some sleep too. Curling up to her in bed, he drew the covers around them and fell asleep, knowing that the dreams would be good this time. Knowing that someone needed him both here and at home.
Home, home was calling, as was Marie.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The trip home isn't quick or easy and Logan gets to know a little about the girl he's 'rescued' and she helps him solidify his own thoughts about the girl waiting for him back home.