Rogue sat at the kitchen table, cup of cocoa in hand. She was exhausted, and yet she did not long for sleep and the dreams that came with it; rather, she dreaded it.
Well, that wasn’t completely accurate. She didn’t dread sleep. And if she was being completely honest, she didn’t really dread the dreams either. They were dreams that left her hot, sweaty, and aching in a place yet untouched by anything other than her own shy, exploring fingers.
It wasn’t as if Rogue had never had a sex dream before. After all, she was almost 20. She had dreamt of nights spent in the arms of various X-Men and she had discovered that the dreams were more vivid if she had touched the man in question. So, while the few fantasies she had had about Scott had been fuzzy in parts, she had been able to dream in detail about what sex with Bobby might be like, and now that she knew that John (predictably) enjoyed incorporating hot candle wax into his foreplay.
But, those dreams paled in comparison to the extremely vivid dreams she had been having about the Wolverine. She had dreamt of him before, but nothing like she was now. She didn’t know for sure, but she speculated that her age, combined with his recent return to the mansion had triggered them. One thing she did know for sure was that the mornings after, she could barely look Logan in the face.
Rogue sighed into her cup. She knew she was simply putting off the inevitable. Everyone had to sleep sometime. Well, except for that kid who spent his evenings channel surfing. She debated draining a little of his mutation to save her sanity.
Just then, she heard a noise in the hallway outside the kitchen. Rogue glanced up in time to see the very star of her dreams stroll through the door.
“Hey, darlin’. What’s the matter? Can’t sleep?” Logan asked her as he passed by, ruffling her hair on his way to getting a midnight beer.
“Um,” Rogue bit her lip. What was she supposed to say? No, actually, I’m just trying to put off the moment when I shut my eyes and fall into another episode of ‘Logan Takes Rogue Behind the Boathouse and Fucks Her Senseless.’ “I’m just trying to calm my nerves before bed,” she said. It wasn’t completely untrue.
“Ah. And what do you got to be all nervy about, Marie?” he asked, sitting down next to her. She could smell his trademark scent of pine and tobacco. The same as in her dreams.
I’m nervy about the fact that just looking at you in this kitchen makes me want you to through me down on this table and mount me like you did in my dreams last week. Rogue couldn’t take it anymore. She just shook her head and shrugged as if to say “I don’t know,” got up, emptied her cup in the sink and went to bed.
She saw herself writhing beneath him. He loomed above her lithe body, muscular and almost overpowering. She saw when he first entered her, his red, almost purple with need, head disappearing into her glistening folds. She heard herself start to moan and watching as her legs shifted further apart to accommodate his lowering hips.
He pulled out, almost entirely, before sliding back in, almost painfully slow. She saw every motion, as if she were a third person standing in the room observing their heated tryst. And yet she felt every thrust.
She watched as the muscles in his back rippled as he pumped in and out of her, gaining speed now. She could see the look on her face, one of sheer ecstasy, and watched her arms encircle his broad, sweating shoulders. Her fingernails raked over him making shallow cuts which healed instantly.
She listening to the slapping, wet noises as their bodies joined again and again. She heard the moans and grunts of two people in the throws of passion. And then she heard the sound she loved more than any other: Logan loud grunt and him growling her name as the muscles in his backside clenched. When his climax was finished, he leaned down and kissed her forehead.
Rogue woke the next morning refreshed, but still wanting. Not sleep, of course, but Logan. She took a cold shower, which helped her clear her head. She attempted to mentally soothe herself some more. Everyone has sex dreams. Even Logan. I wonder if his are ever about me. SHUT UP BRAIN!
Literally shaking her head she went down to breakfast, hoping that some bacon would make everything okay.