Remember how I said things can only get better?
Yeah, me neither.
I was on my third glass of red wine, my cheeks burning with heat, my vision slightly blurred...oh and I must have taken off my sweater at some point, I realized. If this was the usual effect of alcohol, we should save some for the winter.
Logan was still half-heartedly watching the movie while I had changed my focus and was only watching him now. My clouded mind only needed to catch a short glance of his lips to imagine them on mine and one of his hands to practically feel them all over my body.
Luckily, I had about two or three brain cells left and those successfully managed to keep me from trying to actually make my fantasies happen.
Tearing my eyes away from Logan for a minute, with an effort so great that made me feel physically exhausted, I managed to sort my thoughts enough to be able to speak. I was a girl on a mission tonight after all and that mission was not only getting drunk.
“Logan,” I drawled, grabbing the sleeve of his sweater with a sloppy movement to get his attention.
He gave me that half-amused, half-adoring look that had been on his face all night and I felt ready to reveal the big secret.
“You can touch me.”
Uhm...in a nutshell, yes. But I had originally intended to elaborate a little.
He made one of those cute growly sounds that were his equivalents to simple terms like “yes”, “no”, “what?” and “fuck you”. I was guessing that Answer C would win me the million Dollars in this case.
“I mean...parts. Of me.”
Another grunting sound that I interpreted as “go on.”
“Like, my palms. And my ears,” I managed to force out, having a little difficulty remembering which parts exactly he could touch without getting knocked out. I pulled off my black opera gloves and stretched out my arms to offer him my hands, palms up.
“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked in a low voice and leaned in a little.
“Oh God, yes,” I spoke (moaned, to be exact) my mind without thinking.
Nice. Showing him how he reduces me to nothing but my instincts and kills those last couple of brain cells in the process will surely make him realize what a great girlfriend I'd make. Why did I decide to get drunk again?
Logan laughed and then, to my surprise, grabbed me around my waist and pulled me onto his lap.
“So, ears you say?” he whispered and I could feel his hot breath on my right ear, immediately followed by a short kiss being pressed onto it.
When he started licking my ear and lightly bit down once, I didn't have enough strength left to hold up my head and let it drop back onto his left shoulder.
“Did you know it's an erogenous zone?”
Well, let's just say I certainly did now.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that the man I'd been dreaming of for several months now was finally showing some interest in me that was beyond some little flirt between friends, or maybe he just had an extremely talented tongue - either way, I was getting incredibly turned on. And with Logan's enhanced sense of smell, I was sure he already knew exactly what kind of effect he was having on me. My cheeks turned yet a little bit pinker at that thought.
“Hands,” he breathed into my ear and hooked his arms around me to be able to reach my palms that I had turned upwards and placed on my thighs at his demand.
I felt Logan's fingertips draw gentle patterns on the inside of my hands, tracing the lines and continuing his assault on my ear.
Who would have thought that just a light touch on my palm could be quite so sensual?
After a while he brought my hand up to his mouth and replaced his fingers with his lips and tongue and I closed my eyes with a gasp. If I'd been able to concentrate on anything besides his touches right now, I probably would have congratulated myself and my friends for coming up with such a good plan. But I was far from that kind of mental clarity.
“Where else?” he asked in a husky tone and I wasn't far away from asking him to please keep on talking because I was in love with his voice just as much as I was with the rest of him.
“Uhm...” I eventually answered, “under my feet.”
“Oh this is good,” Logan said, a mysterious smile flashing over his lips.
He lifted me off his lap again and I might have slightly whimpered at the loss of physical contact.
“Over there.”
I did as I was told, lying down and getting as comfortable as possible on the couch as I let him lift up my legs so that my feet were in his lap now. I wiggled my flip-flops off and impatiently waited for what was going to happen.
Logan put the blanket I had strategically placed on the couch over my feet and then took them in his hands, only making direct skin-to-skin contact with the soles.
I was half-expecting him to start tickling me or do something equally mean, and was pleasantly surprised when he started massaging my bare feet.
Very silently, I moaned at the touch. He really was talented at all this...
“Did you know...” he began, pausing to place a soft kiss onto my toe and then continued, “that some women can have an orgasm only by having their feet touched?”
“No,” I pressed out, instantly believing him.
For a short second, I wondered where he had collected all that trivia knowledge about the human body and sex – I briefly considered Seventeen and Cosmo, my ultimate sources of Sex Ed, but then came to the conclusion that he probably drew his knowledge from experience rather than reading. Somehow, that made me feel safe and exposed at the same time, so innocent compared to him. But all that was part of the appeal...
I enjoyed the sensations of Logan's hands kneading and caressing my feet for a little longer before he wanted to know the other touchable spots on my body.
My vanished blush re-appeared on my cheeks when I imagined the attention he would extend to those other places and I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him.
“Around my belly button...and inside my thighs,” I told him shyly, the anticipation bringing a million butterflies to my tummy.
Logan appreciatively nodded and knelt down between my legs, carefully pushing my top up a few inches. He bent down and planted a sloppy kiss onto my belly button, proceeding to encircle it with his tongue. I arched my back to meet his touches and reached out to tangle my hands in his hair, the one part of him I could touch without any danger.
Was it possible to die of unresolved sexual tension? Because if it was, I was sure I would. And very soon.
Logan ran his hands up and down my legs while he continued licking the sensitive skin of my belly. Just when I was mentally going through the countless things that I could have him lick off me – ice cream, chocolate sauce, whipped cream – he stopped.
I raised my head and was about to protest when I felt his hands on the zipper of my jeans.
“Is it okay if I...?”
One encouraging nod and dreamy sigh (wasn't it just so sweet that he'd actually ask permission?) later, Logan was pulling my pants off me, leaving me only in my black panties. I had listened to Jubilee and worn my prettiest ones, even though I hadn't believed it would be necessary.
Guess I'd been wrong.
But I actually didn't mind if being wrong involved getting undressed by Logan.
I gasped at the sensation of his fingertips making contact with my thighs and felt shivers run over my entire body when he moved his hands up and down, painfully slowly.
“Logan...”
I moaned his name, pressing his head down between my legs and soon feeling his tongue on my exposed skin.
This was the farthest we could go, I suddenly realized but quickly pushed that thought away.
I was close to going insane with need and Logan knew it. He was growing nearly as frustrated as I was.
While I was making unintelligible sounds that had originally supposed to be words, he raised his head to look at me for a moment, before returning his gaze to my lower body.
“I wish I could...”
He never finished his sentence and I probably wouldn't have registered much of it anyway, as I felt his lips press into my center, only separated from me by a thin layer of fabric.
He inhaled deeply and then pushed his tongue down; I grabbed his shoulders in response, holding on to him tightly and squeezing my eyes shut.
“Fuck...” Figures I'd remember that one of all words.
I raised my hips to get closer to him, feeling my inner muscles starting to cramp and my legs twitch.
“Oh God, Logan, please...”
A couple more thrusts of his skilled tongue and I fell over the edge, thrashing and panting and groaning in pleasure.
Fuck indeed.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Chapter End Notes:
I've never really written anything explicit before and I had originally planned to stop and "fade to black" a little earlier in the scene...but the little inspirational Marie in my head was getting *a little* pissed at me for planning to leave her so unsatisfied...poor girl. So this had to be done ;)