Disclaimer: This fan fiction is not written for profit and no infringement of copyright is intended.

There were times when Logan hated his sense of smell.

Because it had a tendency to bypass everything else in him, including training and self-preservation. Including courtesy and dignity and even common sense. And right now, that’s exactly what it was doing. Making him feel more like an animal than a man. Making his breath catch and his heart pound and his dick twitch in anticipation at a thought which neither of his brains should ever have entertained. And yet he couldn’t help himself. Because seriously, how often in life did a sight as perfect as the one before him meet him? And how often was it likely to meet him again?

He heard her sharp intake of breath as she realised he was there then. Heard the click as the door swung shut. It felt ominous, as if it was sealing his fate somehow-

But he realised he didn’t care.

Marie, his sweet Marie, was writhing in his favourite chair, looking tumble-down gorgeous and completely seductive. Hair tossed about her shoulders. Skin alive and warm and blushingly hot still. Perfuming his room with her unique, sweet-spicy scent and in all the years he’d known her, he’d never seen her completely abandoned to anything but sensation and pleasure- He couldn’t take his eyes offa her. Couldn’t even begin to pretend he wasn’t turned on as Hell. His gaze travelled helplessly across her pleasure-flushed body, her breasts, her ass. Coming to rest on her swollen, arousal-bitten lips, and oh sweet Jesus, the sight of that did shit to him nothing else had ever been able to do-

She’d been calling, whispering, growling his name as he walked in here, he realised then. She’d been calling, whispering, growling his name as the thought of him alone made her come.

The beast in Logan growled at that. The man in him did the same.

Her scent was filling his head now, pushing out everything else. The effect of it almost making him feel stoned. Somewhere inside his mind, in that tiny place which held onto sanity, a voice was screaming at him that he’d had a reason for coming back here. That Hank had asked him to go get Marie and test her, considering the new data they’d discovered about Sabre-tooth and the reasons for his attack. But that Jimminy Cricket voice was becoming merely an annoyance. something to be gutted, slashed or otherwise dealt with, but certainly not to be heeded now. Because Marie was here, in his chair. In his sights. And she was holding her hand out to him in invitation.

“C’Mere, sugah,” she growled, staring at him through heavy-lidded lashes. “C’Mere and let me show you just what Ah can do.”

And in that moment, Logan knew he was lost.

He didn’t remember taking her hand. Didn’t remember nodding. All he knew was that she was in the chair one minute and then, then- Then his back slammed hard into the door behind him as Marie’s momentum made him stagger back. One bare hand clawing at his shoulder, the other pulling his hips closer as she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. Those flushed young breasts burning against him, soft and hot and heavy in his hands as he squeezed them- You like that darlin’?- As she panted something which- Jesus- sounded a Helluva lot like his name. “Logan,” she was whispering, hoarsely, “Oh God, Logan- Please, please-” Her sweet voice hoarse and low-down and a justification fer every type of sinning known to man and angels- One hand sliding up his back to tangle in his hair even as the other went for his belt-buckle, his cock-

Sweet Jesus his Marie was good.

He hissed in pain and pleasure then- His favourite fucking combo- as his dick was freed from his jeans. Those elegant, clever hands closing over him, squeezing him, and just for a second Logan thought he was gonna lose control it felt so fucking good. His hips began to buck in time with hers, both of them trying to find their rhythm. Both of them panting and out of breath now and desperately straining for release. She bit his earlobe hard, twisting it with her teeth and again he hissed in pleasure. “You like that, doncha darlin’?” she murmured devilishly, nails scratching at his fore-arms. “You like it when your sweet little Marie fucks you-”

Her words were the thing that finally pushed him over the edge. Hearing her talk dirty in that perfect Good Girl Southern accent was the last Goddamn straw.

Logan snarled then, switching their positions so that now he was thrusting her back against the door. Taking one wrist in each hand and forcing her arms and legs apart, spread-eagling her against the door while he sucked and bit at her neck. Marie laughed breathlessly, delightedly, begging him to bite harder even as she rode his hips, his knee. His prick. “That’s it, sugah,” she murmured, “You fuck me good and hard.” Logan closed his eyes, breathing in the drenched with sweat-and-sex perfume of her, and then reached for her top. Tearing it offa her. Hands at her jeans, squeezing her ass, and then her legs were bare too. His mouth moved down, nipping and biting at her shoulder, her collar-bone, her breast. Tongue laving the nipple and then sucking it hard through his teeth, his reward a gasp and another raking of her fingers against his forearms. Another round of pleading, her voice hoarse with longing and want. She snaked her bare foot around his hip to rub against his ass, the other hand tangling in his hair to hold his head in place as he sucked her. He slid his fingers inside her, growling approvingly at the silky, honey wetness which greeted him and then began kissing his way upwards, already anticipating what it would feel like to be inside her. To fuck her long and deep. She was whimpering now, his tongue aching to slide into her mouth. His fingers still riding her hard and fast even as she called out for him, brown eyes imploring as he moved in to finally kiss that siren mouth-

And then suddenly he froze. They froze. Soon as their eyes locked on one another Logan stopped moving. Because suddenly his brain registered just who was in his arms.

Fuck.

He let his grip on her loosen then, pulling slightly away from her. Ignoring his cock which was screaming protest and trying to calm himself before he did something even dumber’n that. She tried to pull him closer again but he stilled her. Giving inta temptation and briefly laying his forehead against hers, but then pulling away. Because he remembered who he was. Who she was. What they were doing together and what she meant to him outside this moment and this room. Those chocolate brown eyes belonged to his best friend, not some random, sexually adventurous stranger who happened to look a bit like her. And he was fucking her against a door, fer Chrissakes. He was snarling and growling and not even kissing her, and she was his Marie. He’d gut someone else fer doing this to her-

“Logan?” she murmured then, her voice suddenly tiny and not at all hoarse from longing and want. “Logan, what is it? Did Ah..?” And she let the sentence trail off, biting her lip. Brown eyes suddenly bright with something he suspected might turn inta tears. “Did Ah do something wrong?”

“No, you didn’t, darlin’” he growled, breathless. Hands clenched with the effort of not touching her. “I did.”

“But Ah wanted to,” She frowned. “And Ah thought you did. Ah mean, the way ya reacted earlier…” She shook her head, face confused and embarrassed. Bewildered. “Isn’t that why you came back to the room, shuggs?”

And she looked away from him, trying to hide those tell-tale tears.

If possible Logan felt like an even worse bastard than he had before. “No,” he said quietly. “No, Hank asked me t’get ya. Something about Sabre-tooth’s mental state when you fought him.” He’d come to take her to Sickbay, to check on her, and instead he’d tried ripping her clothes off and screwing her without a second thought. He knew he wasn’t the most chivalrous of men, but that was low, even by his standards. And now he’d made his Marie cry, which was the one thing he never, ever wanted to do. Something other people had been known to lose a limb fer attempting-

Jesus, this was a mess.

“Ah should go see Beast then,” she muttered dully. Eyes flat. For the moment she was in shock, though Logan knew it wouldn’t last. She‘d be throwing things by morning. “Can ya put me down?” she muttered, and he deposited her awkwardly back on the floor, looking away as she tried to smooth her hair down. Find her clothes. If he touched her he didn’t think he’d be able to stop himself again. “Ah’ll just head to Sickbay, see what Hank wants,” she muttered, pulling on her blouse and jeans. It was so awkward. “And Ah’ll see ya tomorrow. Night.”

She didn’t look back as she left.

But given the circumstances he didn’t really expect her too.

Logan dragged a hand through his hair then, trying to ignore the scent of her permeating everything. Trying also to ignore the realisation of just how royally he’d fucked up. She’d probably never speak to him again. The chair creaked with his weight as he sat down in it, nearly drowning in the smell of her, the memory of it. Ordering his mind not to conjure the image of her writhing there, his name on her lips like a prayer. He sat there, hands clenched, claws ready to rip at something- And waited. Didn’t move. Sat still. Night fell and with it came a peaceful darkness, but the recollections still didn‘t leave him. Sleep came about four hours after she’d left him-

And when it did, he dreamt of his Marie.