She was tired. She was lonely. Even though Rogue never lacked the availability of male companionship, she just didn't want to risk having any entanglements. Shoving the thought of Pyro away, she walked into the smoky whorehouse.
No. She didn't want that one. Nor that one. She knew all of them were good in bed - she'd had all of them time and again in the last year since Pyro died. Walking to the madam easily, and was greeted with a familiar smile. She and Rhys were well aquatinted with one another, and if he hadn't been gay she would've had him by now too.
"Got anything new for my Rhys?"
A quirk of full lips and the twinkling of azure eyes met the question. "Sure do kiddo. New guy - from Canada. Just started today, no other clients for him yet either. Wanna take a look?" Knowing that the answer couldn't be otherwise, he pointed to a corner.
Straining her eyes for a moment she saw a man leaning casually against the joining of the two walls. Tall, lean, raw animal masculinity. Catching his eyes she saw something lurking there. Not quite human, she decided. Tearing her gaze from his, she looked him up and down quickly. Legs encased in painted on leather, thighs bulging as he shifted positions. Up hips - her eyes widened - he must be -very- uncomfortable in those tight pants, because the heat he was packing to the left leg was more than clearly defined. Waist and chest unfortunately covered by a billowy shirt. But it was open at the top, showing off a metal tag nestled in-between that hollow that is the joining of collarbones, chest and throat, on top of a sprinkling of chest hair. Shoulders so broad it almost looked like he'd over balance if he tried to stand up straight. They would look odd on a smaller man, one who didn't have such legs to counter his shoulders. Starting to look at his arms her eye was caught by the long fine boned hand resting above his opposite elbow. Olive tan, slightly red knuckles, delicate almost. Each finger so finely jointed, tapering into round fingertips. His nails weren't neat. And despite the structure of those lean hands they looked like they had seen honest work before, unlike some of the men here, what with their perfectly manicured nails and hands.
Trailing her eyes up the line of his throat, she saw that place on a man that looked so rough, just under the jaw on the side of the neck. Where the scrape of a razor's edge makes the skin tougher, prickly with stubble. She loved that place on a man. Then again she loved all men's bodies. Her appreciation for the human form, a machine that has been perfected by millions of years, into what it is today. All people, even if they didn't fit society's view on beauty, she could see it all. The way muscles, skin and bone have evolved into their current myriad of shapes. Magnificence in every line, in the economy of movement. Chin rounded yet square. Full bottom lip - she had a sudden image of running her tongue along it, and tugging it into her mouth. His nose was slightly crooked, like he may have broken it a few times and it wasn't set properly. It was also alittle long, but in his face it fit. High cheekbones, framed with thick sideburns, so much extra hair wasn't usually to her taste, but god it worked. Forehead that had shaggy and pointed bangs drooping over it, his hair was so wild, she wondered how much time he spent getting that look.
So much for her to see and analyze in just those few seconds, but she was a mutant in the Brotherhood. Being totally observant and aware was her job. And was she ever aware of him.
"Rhys - you do good work. I'll take him - but don't expect him to be able to do for anyone else tonight. He's mine until I'm done, OK?"
"Could it be any other way, kiddo?" Rhys just laughed at her - she always took them all night long and usually most of the way into the next day. And they always needed a few days to…rest as it were when Rogue was done with them. "The usual room is taken, but I figure you could use the suite."
Rogue's head snapped around to look at Rhys. The suite was -not- something he handed out keys to lightly. And it irked her to no end that he'd given out 'her' room to someone else. She was here most non-mission nights and thought of the fourth room on the rightside of the second floor hallway as hers. Hell she even kept a few changes of clothes there.
"Don't worry. I had them put your stuff in the suite. Some black haired chick who looked a little suspicious to me wanted that room specifically. So you got the better end of the deal anyway kiddo."
"Extra?" Rogue had funds, but she didn't like spending more than what she expected on anything, no matter how much she wanted it.
"For you kiddo? No. Anyway from now on you should take that room. I didn't like the look on that woman's face. I'm just going with my gut feeling here kiddo. And I owe you too much anyway." Any reference to the time when Rogue'd taken out the X-Men's Ms. Marvel when the uber bitch had attacked the Emporium (A/N: that's the house of ill repute they're in at the moment) made her distinctly uncomfortable. It may have been years but still.
Nodding almost to herself, Rogue motioned for the man to follow her up the five flights to the suite.
In the narrow confines of the stairwell she could feel his eyes traveling her body, burning a trail along her long curves. It was almost like he was touching her, and she felt the familiar heat rise in her blood faster and more surely than it ever had. The smell of him, smoky, full, spicy sour, -male- filled her nostrils, and she wondered about how good he smelled and she wished she had touched Victor to gain some of his senses. She thought she would be able to drown in the heavy perfume of his skin, if she had such olfactory abilities.
Reaching her destination, she was aware of him moving closer to her body. Feeling the press of his chest against her back and his hand - such strong graceful hands - gliding down her arm to wrap around her hand on the doorknob, twisting it along with her.
His face was buried in her hair, breathing in the scent of her shampoo. Warm breath puffing out onto her scalp. The feeling was so intimate and erotic; it was something a lover would do to her, not a one-night stand. But she stayed where she was, pressing herself against him lightly as he molded himself to her form.
"You smell good darlin'." His voice, low, gravely rich and deep rumbled through her, vibrating down to her bones, her toes. She thought she'd melt just from the sound of him. God his voice matched his body so perfectly, Rogue was sure she'd cum on the spot, from a few caresses, the smell of him, the feel of him, the -sound- of him was almost too much.
She let herself bask in the sensation of him for a moment more, before pushing the door open, his hand still wrapped around hers, his other hand now resting on the strip of skin shown off by her midriff baring shirt, moving along with her. The door now open, the palatial suite, all muted greens, creams, and azure blues - she had to hand it to Rhys, he knew how to decorate - revealed in tasteful glory and the best thing she'd ever seen, behind her. Turning in his arms, she slid the hand he was holding up to his shoulder, tracing the collarbone, fingers slipping up his neck, caressing his ear, to bury it in his wild dark hair. Pulling his head down, standing on her toes, she met his lips and did just what she had imagined downstairs, moments ago.
Running her wet tongue along the full bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth, tugging on it lightly as he smoothed his hands down her back, pulling her hips against him, one hand now on her ass, caressing up to her shoulders, hands now buried in her hair. His tongue sliding into her mouth, hers licking the firm line of his teeth, tongues entwined, her legs on either side of his muscular thigh.
Pulling away from him, she looked into his eyes fully for the second time. Normally she hated to look them head on; she didn't want to give them the chance to see her laid bare. But looking into his eyes, such a crystal clear brown green - she'd never seen hazel done such justice - she wanted him to see what he would. His eyes widened alittle in response. Surprise mabye, she couldn't name quite what flared in them at that moment. Then his eyes darkened, and he pulled her closer to his taller frame. Locking her in place with one of those magnificent hands at the small of her back, the other one cradling her head in his palm.
Held like that, Rogue felt precious, delicate, wanted and loved for a moment. Worshipped. And more naked than ever, despite her clothing. Laid so bare that she was sure he could see into her soul. It was torn quietly from her throat. "I want you."
He nodded, eyes still so dark they were almost black now. Bending down momentarily he scooped her up, kicking the door shut behind him, walking to the bed. She could have lifted him just as easily as he had her, but this felt good. Felt right. Held just like this.
Deposited on the silk covered metal-framed bed, she lay looking up at him. "You look like a goddess," he murmured as he leaned over her, head dipping down to kiss her forehead. Before he could pull back, before the flames of not touching him consumed her she held his head to her, kissing him on that spot underneath the corner of his jaw, as she sat up. Running her hands down to the waist of his shirt, she tugged it free, never leaving off kissing him.
His kisses contained equal fervor, but he let her lead. She almost wanted to give him control - she never had with -any- of her lovers, she just couldn't trust them that much - but she wanted much more to touch him. Maybe later she'd let him take over. Maybe later she'd let him make her his. First she wanted him to be hers. His goddess. Nimble hands slid up under his shirt, feeling the soft hairs on his stomach, inching up his torso taking the shirt with them.
Pulling back for only a moment, just long enough to get that shirt off of him - her breath hitched in her chest. "Magnificent." He looked like the David come to life. Only more beautiful, more male, more…just more. "Your name - what should I call you? Please?"
Sinking to his knees between her spread legs, he looked up at her, hand holding one of hers to his chest. "Logan," he breathed.
"Logan. Logan, I want to make love to you." It all came out as a sigh, the kind that was let loose in contentment. "I'm - "
"My goddess." Pulling her hand to his mouth, eyes never leaving hers he kissed the soft space of her palm. A light lick, "I need no name for you other than that."
Almost odd for her to hear something so flowery from this man, but it also felt as though it came from the bottom of his heart. And the things she'd been thinking had been just as tender, as flowery. That realization brought her up short. She didn't want entanglements.
"I can't do this." Tugging her wrist lightly, not wanting to use her strength on him, she waited for him to let go. His hand only tightened.
"Can't or won't?"
"Pick one."
His head cocked to the side, studying her. "You can and - " a deep inhalation, "You want to. And -I- most certainly want to. So why not? What are you afraid of?"
"I don't want entanglements." She hated admitting that to him, but if it would make him let her hand go, she would take the blow to her pride.
He kept hold of her hand as he seated himself next to her on the bed. "And why is that?"
She looked away from his too intense gaze. "It's none of your business."
"Maybe. Maybe not. You think this is normal? For me to talk, really talk? You know the rules here as well as I do. And you know that I already broke several. You break one now. Tell me. Why. Not?"
"I- I come here because he died. I'm lonely," a bitter laugh, " what woman who comes here, comes because they -aren't- lonely? I want no entanglements."
"Too late darlin'. You got me already, and you know that I got you. You'll run, you'll hide, but you'll come back. Why fight it when the moment you looked at me it was too late?" When he finished he let go of her hand, and she missed his warmth until he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her to rest her head on his bare shoulder.
Sighing she mulled it over. "What makes you so sure? Because I think you're just trying to do your job."
"That I am. But also - I dunno. I just am sure that it's not just that. C'mon darlin'. Let's just do this, let's just see for a little while."
Rubbing her face against the warm tan skin underneath her pale cheek, she decided to let go for a night. So what if she did him next time and the next and the next. He was still bought and paid for. Not someone she had to actually live with. It would prevent the ties that bind lovers. They'd have sex. Maybe talk. And they could do it regularly. But there'd always be the line of separation. The line made by money. She could enjoy him without any worries.
Trying to take comfort in that she decided it would be alright for now.
Placing an openmouthed kiss on his shoulder, she moved to sit astride him. His hands were gentle on her hips, caressing lightly as he looked into her eyes. She leaned back, pulling her shirt over her head, one of his hands at her back supporting her. Coming back to press her chest to his, he tipped his head back to meet her descending lips.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, as she rubbed against him, his arousal trapped underneath her, and his dug into her backside, urging her on. She could taste the bitter tang of beer in his mouth, the toothpaste he'd used today, all mixed together into something she wanted to consume. Pushing him so he'd lay on his back, she shifted down to his feet. Tugging his boots off gently, pulling his socks off from his feet she was surprised. Most people had ugly feet. His weren't, in fact they were beautiful. But his toes were a little short - cute she decided. Then again she hadn't seen anything about him that was ugly anyway.
Yanking her own shoes and socks off quickly, she unzipped her pants, sliding them down her legs as he watched the fitted denim peeled from her thighs, calves, and were then tossed to the side. Running her hands up his legs, her fingers reached his waistband. Leaning forward she rubbed her face against his stomach - it was so soft over top hard muscles, she giggled for a moment.
Logan lifted his head and looked at her. "Normally women don't giggle when they're almost face first in my crotch."
"Your hair tickled my nose."
His left eyebrow traveled up his forehead as though it was saying 'Reeeaaallly, and this matters WHY?'
Kissing the skin above his waistband, she held his eyes. "Well it did tickle." And before he could say anything, she had him unzipped and was sliding her hand down to pull him out. A harsh groan was torn from his mouth as her hand wrapped around his girth.
His hands scrabbled for the waist of his pants, still laid out flat, as he struggled to get them farther down while her hand massaged his length up and down. Rogue just kept watching his face as it contorted in pleasure from her languorous ministrations.
"God baby - g-gotta get these- pants!" he barely managed to grunt out when her hand tightened on the tip of him.
"Hmm…. having trouble already sugar?"
Logan growled, sat up and grabbed her hands, pulling her up next to him on the bed. As he stood he turned so that his engorged penis was jutting out just mere inches from her mouth. Before she could reach for him again, he was bent over almost ripping his pants off, and when he straightened back up he looked at her. There was so much fire in his eyes, and she could feel herself responding to him equally.
He stepped back from her, holding out his hand. Rogue stood and let her eyes travel over him one again, as he did the same. This time they were both revealed to the other - gloriously naked and flushed with arousal.
Finally she allowed herself to really look at him. His manhood was dark and heavy, curving upward and already glistening with pre-cum. Opening her arms to him she felt complete when he wrapped his strong arms around her, hands caressing her possessively, as her own traveled the expanse of his broad back, taught muscles of his chest, down his gluts - staying there for a firm squeeze that made his hips push forward, rubbing his cock against her soft belly - their gaze locked on the others' as they explored one another.
Backing up until her knees hit the edge of the bed, they fell in tangle of limbs, still gentle touches, nothing to really egg on their excitement. That is until Logan reached between them, sliding one of those gorgeous fingers into her cleft. Grinding herself against his palm, all the while looking him deep in the eyes, until hers fluttered shut when he pushed two fingers into her soaked entrance.
"God darlin'. You're so fuckin' wet." His breath caressed her cheek as he moved his face to the hollow of her throat; her fingers tangled deep in his hair. She could hear him breathing in the scent of her skin, followed by a gentle nip. Faster she rode his hand, his fingers gaining more speed, the heel of his palm crushing her swollen clit.
Logan rose above her to watch as she fell apart. Slowly removing his fingers when she opened her eyes, she watched him then lick them clean. Her hand on his shoulder pushed softly, urging him to go down. Shifting himself to kneel between her thighs, his dark skinned hands parted her farther. Kissing the soft skin beneath her navel, tongue scrubbing through her wet curls, doing a quick little circle around her clit, to dip into her slit. Kissing her there deeply, moaning as the taste of her essence ran along his chin and in his mouth. Slow ministrations from his lips, teeth and tongue brought her back to the brink again and she tumbled off the precipice without hesitation.
When he pulled back for a moment, to slide back up so their faces were again level. "So beautiful," she mumbled as she reached up to cup his face.
Logan gave her a lopsided grin, taking the earnest compliment with aplomb.
Raising herself to her hands and knees she crawled on top of him, rubbing her wet pussy against his hardness, both of them moaning simultaneously. Leaning forward she angled her hips so that on her next grind the tip of his penis would slip into her. Rogue shuddered when she felt herself sinking down on him, all the way to his thick base.
As they hurdled towards ecstasy, she watched him watching her, his face painted with transcendent pleasure.
Collapsing after shivering and shaking out the last drops of her climax, Rogue sighed. Logan's hands moved over her back, smoothing out the tension and strain in her muscles. All of a sudden her head snapped up to pin him with a glare. She had heard him say something as he came. Something that had frightened her now that it registered. He had said 'Rogue.'
Leaping away from him and crouching down in a fighter's stance she waited. He just looked surprised as he raised himself up on an elbow.
"Darlin'?" he sounded so confused, but she was barely aware of his confusion. Suspicion mounted and a terrible doubt flitted through her mind.
"Who are you? Who are you -really-. Tell me now or I'll twist you into a pretzel -Logan-," she sneered.
Bringing himself into a sitting position at the foot of the bed, hands hanging between his legs, shoulders slumped and looking down he mumbled, "Wolverine."
A hiss escaped her - he was an X-Man. One she hadn't ever seen in battle but knew was a member of the main team but had been on hiatus for the last few years. He was probably the only X-Man alive that could kill her, and here he was, posing as a prostitute just so he could get closer to most likely kill her.
Backing slowly away from him she only stopped when she felt the unforgiving and cold wall at her back. He hadn't moved from the bed, he just sat there not even watching her movements. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he sighed.
"Listen - I'm not here to kill you. They only sent me for two reasons: one because in a fight I'm the one most likely to survive you unless you use your skin, and two because you don't know me - what I look like ect. But why they sent anyone at all is because the Professor wants to make a deal with you."
Red flags were waving about insider her mind, Rogue wouldn't betray the people who had taken her in, the ones who'd saved her from the military bastards who had first captured her before they could start their experiments.
"Just wait - let me talk, OK Rogue? You don't like the deal - you can walk away, no questions asked. Just - please?"
Feeling more vulnerable than she ever had in the last six years since she had been freed, she crumpled to the floor, back against that wall. At that Wolverine looked up, and saw her staring dejectedly at him. As she watched him get up and approach her slowly, obviously in a far-fetched hope of keeping her calm, to squat at her feet and bring her into his arms. Rogue wanted to resist, and she wanted to just stay there forever. He was so warm, and so gentle that it made her feel almost safe. But she reminded herself that he was an X-Man. The enemy. And the woman in what was her usual room was probably an X-Man too. They always worked in pairs.
He just kept rocking her back and forth, lips planted firmly in her hair. "Darlin' I ain't your enemy. We never were. We never ever were the Brotherhood's enemy. Same goals - we want mutants to be safe. Methods? That's the only reason there's ever been a conflict darlin'."
Turning in his arms to look up at his worried gaze she could only ask one question. "Why me?"
"You're the only one left of the two or three who ever tried to actually work towards something without power and money as the driving force behind your decisions. Pyro - he was one of the ones we were going to approach. The government got there before we could get him out. And we know Mystique will never leave Magneto. That left you. We need more help. This war is taking its toll - losses on both sides are too heavy, and Bucket Head isn't willing to work with us. And we can't use the same methods. Darlin' - you could turn the tide. While Pyro would've been a great asset, and Mystique's expertise would be welcome - we have tacticians, we have kinetics just as powerful or more than Pyro. What we -don't- have is someone like you."
"I didn't want to kill her you know," she whispered, face buried in his neck.
"Who?"
"Carol. I tried to hang on for only a little bit - but I couldn't let go. It doesn't happen that way normally. But it's like her skin became glue and there was no way for me to pull free. If I hadn't killed her -"
"Stop darlin'. Stop. That wasn't your fault. And besides - she was freelance. She wasn't working for us at the time. We don't know why she attacked this place. It's not like it really matters. What does matter is that you honestly consider Chuck's offer. Please?"
Please was a word that she didn't think Wolverine said often, but each time he said it, it carried such a wealth of emotion. And it made her so much less afraid; it made her want to think about it. To think about seeing him everyday, sleeping in his bed every night, fighting the good fight for no other reason other than it was the right thing to do. She'd never been too comfortable with the training of militia's or the anti-human propaganda that Erik was always on about. But she didn't want to betray them. So she was confused.
When she pulled away from him, Wolverine looked as disconsolate as could be. It looked as though she'd drop kicked a puppy across a room when it had come to get its head scratched. And when she grabbed a change of clothes from one of the two dressers in the room, he looked like he was just about to cry. But he stayed just where he had been.
Walking up behind him she kneeled behind him, taking him into her arms. She wasn't certain what she'd do about his offer, but she was going to think about it.
"I'll think about it Wolve-"
"It's Logan. Don't use that name."
Nodding her head against the back of his neck, laying a gentle kiss there, she began again. "I'm not sure if I'll take you guys up on it, but I will think about it Logan."
"Am I gonna see you again?"
"I'm not sure about that either Logan. If I don't side with the X-Men and you and I were to - to continue on this track… and then if I had to face you in a fight - I couldn't do it."
"Could you do it now?"
Sighing with her face in his hair, holding him the way he had held her, a direct mirror, she lied, "Maybe," all the while thinking 'No. I couldn't.'
"Could you Logan?"
"No."
"What if an X-Man was about to kill me, could you let them?"
"No."
"That's the problem sugar. Neither of us can risk that conflict. -I- can't risk that conflict. And it'll be there if you and I-"
Logan stood up, pulling himself out of her arms, and said in a voice devoid of emotion, "Fine."
Reaching her hand out to his turned back, from her seated position, she felt regret for lying to him wash over her. But she was right - she couldn't risk that conflict until she made her decision.
"When I decide - Logan, where will I find you?"
"347 Rohde avenue, apartment 125, Salem Center New York," his voice was still so mechanical, it hurt her heart. But she needed time, time away from him, to be able to think this through. She walked out then; looking only once after she closed the door and heard him pick something heavy up, and smash it against what she assumed was a wall.
Three months later, under an overcast sky she looked up at an old brick building. She had talked with Mystique, who had scowled at her for her childishness. Recalling the conversation clearly, she went over it again, hoping she had made the right decision.
(Rogue - Erik will never try for peace, you know that, I know that. And you know why I stay. And why you should go.)
Three simple sentences that carried a plethora of meaning. Mystique stayed not because she liked the mayhem that the Brotherhood partook of at times, but because she loved Erik. Turning the word over in her head she wondered if she loved Logan. In the three months that she took to make up her mind, all she could see were burning hazel eyes, ones that warmed with humor when she did something silly, ones that darkened to black when his lust rose, ones that shinned with something she hadn't seen since Pyro died when he looked at her. Logan made her feel things that she hadn't since she was a child - safety and security. Pushing her hair out of her face she pushed the button on the apartments intercom.
"Apartment number please."
"125."
"One moment."
"Whaddya want?" for a moment Rogue's breath hitched. His voice was sleep roughened and unforgiving almost, but so so welcome.
"I want you."
For a moment there was silence on the other side, and she started to panic, until she heard the telltale 'beep' of the automatic lock sliding back to allow her entrance.
"I'm on the second floor."
Letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, she entered the building. Warm pre-WWII wood hallways greeted her. A few paintings adorned the walls, and a soft runner rug was underneath her feet. She didn't notice any of it; for once she was totally unaware of her surroundings, her only thoughts for her destination. When she reached the dark wood door, her hand hesitated, and before she could knock she felt a soothingly welcome presence at her back.
His head dropped down to her hair, inhaling the smell of her hair, a hand running up her arm, to grasp her hand, directing it to the doorknob, and they turned it together. It was a moment in which she knew. She loved him. And that thought was liberating.
"Rogue," he murmured, breath caressing her, warming her scalp.
Without turning in his arms, she whispered one word, "Marie."
Logan's arm tightened around her waist, pulling her all the closer to him. Then he stepped away and around her, pulling her into his apartment, only to press her against the now closed door. Getting a good look at him she noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the bloodshot vessels in them, and he looked like hell.
Stroking his stubbled cheek gently, fingers combing through his bushy sideburns she stared into his eyes, drinking him in.
When his eyes started to become moist with unshed tears, and he sank to his feet, head buried in her soft belly and shoulders shaking, she became alarmed "Sugar?"
"I'll leave the X-Men. I'll do whatever it takes, Rogue. Just - I can't take this," he sounded broken, and she couldn't figure out why.
Tugging on his hair, making him look up into her face "Logan - it's OK. I'm not going to make you leave your friends. And I do believe I told you to call me Marie."
Logan just looked up at her uncomprehendingly. "Whu?"
He just looked too adorable all confused like that and she couldn't help the giggle that escaped. Logan's eyes widened as what she said broke through the fog in his brain. Shooting to his feet he cupped her face in his hands. "But - why? You want to risk meeting me in a fight? I thought you -"
Resting a finger against his lips to silence him. "I didn't say that I was going to stay with the Brotherhood."
Slowly a sunny grin broke out over his face, and that was the last thing she saw as he kissed her deeply. Finally he broke away and she noticed that she was laying down now. "Whu-?"
Logan laughed at her, "Having trouble already, darlin'?" that insufferable and sexy and hot and - oh she didn't know what it was, eyebrow was quirked up as high as it could go.
"Ooooo! You're intolerable! Now where the hell am I?" Looking around the fact that she was on a bed became apparent.
"Heh - darlin' I thought you were supposed to be observant. You tell me where you are."
Sticking her tongue out at him he laughed at the childish display. "Marieee…. I got far better uses for that tongue. Hmmm." With each word he leaned farther down until he was hovering over her, until his velvety soft lips were prying hers open; tongue licking at her mouth gently.
Going back to her thoughts of their first time together she wanted him to take control, to let him guide her the way he wanted her. Three months was too long to not taste him, to not feel him buried deep in her tight wetness.
This time she was aware of him moving around her, stripping her clothes efficiently.
"Logan, c'mon fairs, fair. Lose the get-up."
He was still clad in too tight denim when he sat down next to her, and it made her grumpy. Here she was wearing not a stitch and he was still clothed. Well half clothed, she amended. This all felt so much more light and happy than the last time, even though it had been good, she hadn't felt like she could really let go. Her mind had been conflicted with lust, need, loneliness, and yes anger. And all those tender feelings had overwhelmed her as he had touched her that first time, and all of it had mixed together into something she hadn't understood. It had all clouded her vision of the connection that had been made the moment they looked at one another.
But now, now she could be content and free. The best possible Marie. Logan made it all possible. Those thoughts ran quickly through her mind, but then all musings ceased as his now naked body pressed close to her, hand stroking her stomach gently.
"Make love to me Logan."
A small smile curved his mouth upwards, and he proceeded to make love to her all evening and into the next day.
A week later they made their way to the mansion. When the door was opened a lovely smiling red head greeted them.
"Logan! I'm so glad you're back. And you must be Rogue. I'm Jean. The Professor should be out in the garden. Welcome home," the last was directed to both of them and Rogue felt that this place really would become her new home.
The End.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Story Notes:
Same thing as the other story, just this time it's Logan who is the whore, and Marie has Ms. Marvel's powers. Oh and this time she's touchable. But still she's the one in control...whooooo...control…umm… OK another bunny has just attacked me - anybody want it? I'll give that one away freely…. Then again, maybe not, I'm feeling a bit like doing as much taboo stuff as possible. Maybe in that one Rogue'll be a sculptor, but I won't give anymore of that bunny away. Start Date: June 1, 2004. Finish Date: June 4, 2004.