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

Whatever she’d gotten up to in here, Logan mused, she’d enjoyed herself.

And judging by the way her scent had permeated the room, she’d enjoyed herself in his damn chair as well. Which was pretty fucking hot, whichever way you looked at it.

And pretty fucking annoying, since he was trying so hard not to screw her senseless now he was home.

Logan shifted uncomfortably then, padding quietly into the room and trying not to wake her. Also trying not to conjure a mental image of Marie’s probable activities while he’d been away. Wasn’t hard to guess what she’d been doing: The scent of arousal was so strong he coulda followed it from the garage, let alone the front of the house. It clung to the drapes, the sheets, his clothes, everything. Filling his head like the sweetest perfume and trickling against his tongue like honey in July. She was lying lengthways in the chair, sated and asleep. Looking innocent. Both legs sliding over one of the armrests, arms hanging akimbo and loose. Not wearing a shirt or bra or- by the look of things- any panties-

Logan sighed then, thinking not for the first time that Marie would be the death of him. Because there should be laws about looking that Goddamn gorgeous around a man, especially if he was trying to be noble and self-sacrificing and salvage his friendship with you. She was Marie, fer Chrissakes, he reminded himself sternly. His girl. His best friend. And all it had taken fer him to fuck things up was three seconds around her when she was out of her mind on someone else’s hormones. He wondered whether ‘Ro would object to him going another coupla rounds with Sabre-tooth, since Creed had caused this damn mess in the first place. And since beating the shit out of him fer it would do wonders fer his sense of Zen…

Marie stirred in her sleep then.

Mumbled something that almost sounded like his name thought Logan couldn’t be sure. Smiled lazily, her back arching and once again Logan was forced to remind himself just who he was looking at and why. Because the sight o’ her was still calling his blood up. Even as she stretched like a cat, yawning, her bare legs flipping so that she could turn herself around in the chair as she woke. Alls she was wearing was her black skirt and gloves and for a moment he considered clearing his throat. Making sure she knew he was there. But just as he went to do it she stood up and turned towards him. Chest bare, hair everywhere. Beautiful.

And also damn near nude.

Well, ain’t that just peachy? he inwardly growled.

“Hey Logan,” she grinned then, like her standing in front of him half naked was a normal thing. Stretched her arms above her head, making her tits- Jesus, he didn’t wanna think about those- rise and jiggle. The rosy prink nipples perking up like they’d seen him and felt they just had to say hi. “Ah was wondering when you’d get home,” she continued, bright-eyed. “How’d the mission go?”

“Fine.” He hadn’t meant to growl it, but he couldn’t stop himself. The sight of her was straining his last nerve. Logan sniffed, wondering whether Creed’s hormones were still in her system, since that was the only reason he could conjure fer her chipper- and distinctly not-throwing-things mood. Not to mention how turned on she smelt. But there wasn’t a trace o’ Sabretooth left in her, which left him feeling wrong-footed. And besides, where were the tears and the accusations about what a bastard he was? Where was the girl who never even flashed him her ankles, let alone her tits?

And why was she walking towards him like a cat intent on making an unlucky canary’s acquaintance?

Because Jesus, he’d never realised how predatory she could look before now. “Aintcha gonna answer mah question, Logan?” she inquired innocently then. Curling one platinum strand around her finger. “Or are ya just thinking about it really, really hard?” And she slowly, torturously, bit her lip, eyes smouldering.

Aw, he thought, now that shit just ain’t fair.

Logan growled then, taking a step away from her. Hands held in front of him, fingers twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. Wasn’t really paying attention to his surroundings, he just knew he had to keep her outta his personal space. Well, one of his brains did, at least. He tried to step by her and if possible, her smile got wider, growing to Cheshire-cat like proportions. Her hips swaying now, her gait sauntering. And no sign of her putting clothes on anywhere on the horizon. Logan didn’t often think it, but falling back suddenly seemed like a real good idea-

Or as a non-military man mighta put it, running away.

He made a break fer the exit then but she stood in front of him. “You see something ya like, sugah?” she asked sweetly, hands clasped together behind her back. The motion enough to make her breasts stand out even more. Yup, those nipples were definitely saying hello t’him…

“No- I mean-” Fuck. He shook his head. She was too close. “I mean, of course I see someone I like Marie- It’s you, after all…”

“And you like all o’ me, do ya Logan?” Her little hands were hovering near him now, her body heat reaching out to his. She smiled devilishly, tugging lightly at one glove then the other- “You sure you wanna take off more clothes, darlin’?” he muttered- and dropping them to the floor in front of him. The action half challenge and half invitation. Then slowly moved her hands behind her back and pulled the skirt off too.

He realised then that she definitely wasn’t wearing any panties.

“Ah know ya think ya gotta pretend Ah’m your sister, Logan,” she said softly then. He tried desperately to focus on her face but it had way too much naked competition. So he concentrated on her voice instead. “Ah know you don’t wanna hurt me, and Ah know you think getting involved will be a mess.” He nodded unconsciously, hands clenched with the effort of not touching her- She was so fucking lovely, his Marie- “But you oughta remember that it’s not only you has a say in this.” Voice wavering like she was losing some of her confidence, and despite himself Logan reached out fer her, one hand straying to her face to tuck one of her stripes behind her ear. The other- God help him- brushing against her lower lip. She leaned her cheek against his hand as he did it and a spark of warmth shot along his arm, lust and trust mingling together. Something in him twisting at the thought. “Ah want you,” she whispered, brown eyes serious and soft. “Ah’ve- Ah’ve wanted you for a long time, sugah. And Ah think- Ah think that you want me too-

“Don’t you?”

And that said, she leaned up and kissed him.

Once, very softly on the mouth.

In that second Logan was lost. If she’d tried to grab his prick or force him back to the bed it wouldn’t have worked none, but she’d chosen the one thing that would get underneath his defences- The one thing he knew he wouldn’t pull away from at any cost. Because her lips were warm and soft, moving gently against his, and for the first time since any of this started she felt like the Marie he knew now. The Marie he loved. Truth be told this was what he’d wanted to do to her for so long as he could remember. Not fuck her against a door or make her holler his name out like a wild woman. Just kiss him like she was doing now, all soft and sweet and gentle. All warm and completely Marie. He’d wanted to be the man she kissed like this, not the man who scratched an itch someone else had tagged her with-

He was that to enough women already, he wouldn’t be that to her.

Her little arms curled up and around his neck then, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer. Sighing contentedly against him, her breath filling his mouth, her scent in his nose. She sighed his name again, fingers scratching across his shoulders and he pulled her backwards. Both of them tumbling into his chair. Velvety tongue sliding over hers, just like he’d always wanted to do. Her knees going on either side of him, the heat of her pooling in his lap. She laughed breathlessly- “Can Ah take that as a yes?” and a snarl rumbled through his chest- “Take it as a Hell yes, darlin…”

And then her little hands were everywhere, pulling at his t-shirt, fingers ghosting over his skin. Scratching along his mutton-chops, her nose buried in his neck and his in her hair. She stopped for a moment, her pupils dilating as she stared down at him. Shirt off and growling for her there in the evening light. He ran his hands across her cheekbones, cupping her face with one hand as he brought the other to rest against his chest and she smiled at him. But the smile didn’t touch her eyes, he could tell she was nervous about something-

“What is it, darlin’?” Was she having second thoughts already?

“Ah’m-” She bit her lip and this time it wasn’t about seduction, the brown eyes held genuine worry. “Ah can see ya want it t’be all soft and romantic and all, and Ah love that, Ah really do, but-” she stuttered.

“Spit it out already, Marie.”

She giggled, and despite himself he laughed too. “Well, it’s just that Ah…Ah…” Suddenly she grabbed his face in her hands, nails digging against the mutton-chops. Thighs tightening on his, heart pounding in her chest. “Ah wanna give ya the fuck o’f your life, Logan,” she growled, “And Ah don’t know how t’do that if we keep going so doggone slow!”

He couldn’t help it: he gave another puff of laughter. And then dragged her lips down to meet hers before she could protest. Because how could he resist that? All this time, he’d been worried about whether he’d hurt his innocent little Marie, and she was more like him than he’d ever thought possible. More like him than anyone would have guessed. And if that was what she wanted… She was growling against his mouth, protesting against the laughter as he forced her lips open more roughly. Wrapping both arms crushingly around her, her breath coming in panting gasps from the tightness of his embrace. She came up for air and he grinned devilishly, biting at her lip, tugging at it even as her hand went to his belt buckle and she heaved off his jeans, her nails scraping against his ass. He kicked his way out of them, letting her force his head back even as she bit his neck hard. “Jesus,” he gasped-

“No, Marie, shuggs,” she laughed.

And then she was taking his hand, guiding it down between her thighs. Already rocking her hips against his fingers, as he pumped them slowly in and out of her. Keeping the pace infuriatingly steady and slow. Thumb circling her clit and she hollered- “Oh Jesus-”

“No, Logan,” he retorted-

She growled then, taking his cock in her hand. Rolling her fingers up and down its heavy length, one hand tugging at his balls- He hissed at the pleasure of it- while the other squeezed the velvety head. Her teeth scraping along his neck as she fucked him hard with her hand, her own hips moving to the rhythm he set now. He was so hard it was almost painful but she just kept teasing him, squeezing him. Riding that prick. Whispering what she wanted him to do to her in that smoky, low-down voice she only used on him. Grinding against his hand now, half threatening and half pleading with him to finish her, but he just grinned wolfishly. Edging forwards on the seat now and grabbing that pretty bare ass in his hands. For a second she didn’t know what he was doing, but he yanked her legs higher against his hips and her eyes widened with understanding. Whimpering, she shifted, preparing to take him inside her. Biting her lip as he eased forward and then with another growl suddenly moving upright, lowering herself onto his cock in one swift, wet movement. Fitting them both tightly together, like it‘d been a sin they‘d ever been apart. For a beat both were still, just savouring the sensation. The slick, wet joy of it. Their eyes locking- He needed to look at her right now- and then a look of fierce pleasure falling over her face. Over his. Logan let out the breath he hadn’t known he was holding, his last worry about hurting her finally fading and then they were fucking. So close, so Goddamn close. Her bucking against him, murmuring his name even as that tight, wet honeyed pussy took him, all of him. Clenched and arched and made him feel whole. She gasped, head thrown back, her mouth making an O of pleasure as her orgasm hit and he pulled her tighter to him. Chest and chest, forehead to forehead. Not an inch of daylight between them now. She was ragged, desperate, calling for him even as he kept pushing into her. Even as her arms and legs clenched him tighter, wanting him, needing him. Keeping him close and making him hers. Hers. He came and it was hot and wet and right and fucking glorious-

And then he snarled, spending himself within her.

His beautiful, lovely Marie.

They were quiet fer a while then. Him still inside her, her head resting on his shoulder and her fingers sliding gently between his knuckles. Occasionally dropping tiny kisses there, where the claws came out. She smelt content and sated, no more worry or anxiety. The scent of the pair of them mixing together, the perfume of it calming as Hell. Logan traced patterns on her back with his hands, growling softly against her with pleasure. Humming as he kissed her, smiling as she giggled when the vibration of it travelled through her lips, her tongue. They spent the night in that chair, rocking and fucking and loving together until the sun came up. And when sunlight slipped gently into the room, they left the chair and finally tumbled inta bed. Satisfied but not spent.

Her eyes were half asleep when she said it. “Think Ah might love ya, sugah.”

She was curled in against him, more trusting than anyone had ever been. Hand on his belly, the other at his chest. It felt so peaceful.

“Good,” he muttered tightly, “Wouldn’t wanna be alone in this.”

She smiled into his chest. “So can we do this again tomorrow?” she asked innocently. Eyes bright and devilish.

“We can do this every day, that’s what ya want, darlin’.”

The grin grew wider. “Ah was hoping you’d say that. But shuggs?” She was scratching along his arms, his chest now. Preparing to go for round two. Those pretty little nipples popping up to say hey. He raised his eyebrows at her questioningly.

“Ah think ya might need another chair,” she said with mock gravitas.

“Well, then I guess we’ll have to head back over there and check, won’t we?”

Turned out, that chair was way tougher than it looked. Just like him and his Marie.

But that’s a story for another day.