Gravity: The Inevitable Pull
or
Friction: When Rubbed Together
I open my eyes to Marie's face, sweet and shy. And there's a flicker of fear, that only makes me care for her more. She's afraid of a rejection, of me laughing or turning away. I know because it's a mirror of my expression.
With a heavy arm I reach across the covers and tug Marie to my side. She comes willingly, resting her head in that hollow by my shoulder. Such a familiar act, but it's never felt so monumental. Her soft curves pressed against my body, a warm, comforting weight. I kiss the top of her head, silky strands against my lips. Marie slides her palm over my stomach, letting it curl up just above my belly button. That's one of the things I'll always remember, that innocent curve of her fingers.
We are still, quiet with each other. I listen to the steady throb of her heart beat as sleep finally comes to take me away.
I wake in the same position, an hour or two later. No use looking at the clock- I silenced that beeping monstrosity months ago.
I look at the girl laying in the crook of my arm. The simple rise and fall of her chest hypnotizes me-I have not forgotten the time when it was motionless- and it takes a great effort to shift her away. Marie fusses, squirms adorably, but does not wake. I tuck the covers around her to replace my body heat and go into the bathroom.
Strange, but my thoughts haven't been so quiet in a long time. I stand in the shower and let the hot streams sluithe away all the sweat, the dirt and blood of the earlier fight. There's a calm in me, or perhaps a resignation, knowing that for better or worse I am on a definitive path now, whose pull I have not the will to fight. Any voice that happens to be shouting in my head-
*(what the hell is wrong with you? she's a kid! she's a kid! you can't do this! leave! run!)*
-has the strength of a fly, batting against this pull.
When every last bit of dead skin has sunk down the drain, when I smell decent even to my nose, I shut off the water and step out. Quick rub-down with the towel, droplets splattering on the floor. I really need to clean up in here. A second's hesitation, and I pick up the sweatpants again. They're better than nothing. I have never been...shy about nudity, but the idea of walking out stark naked to Marie is too presumptuous even for me.
On second thought...no. No.
She's awake, sitting half-up in the jumble of covers and leaning back on her elbows. There's still an air of uncertainty about her, and I try to make my expression as open as possible. But a pink, familiar stain spreads across her cheeks, her scent thickens deliciously- and these cotton sweats are definitely, definitely inadequate.
I cross the short space between the doorway and the bed, sit on the edge of the mattress. Marie watches me expectantly, trustingly and I am painfully aware of how inexperienced she- especially her body - really is.
Does Marie understand the situation? Does she know what she's getting into? There's that annoying dissenting fly again. The answer is yes. I know Marie too well to ascribe naivety to her actions. But...
"Kid." I clear my throat, pick up on of the hands that lost their gloves somewhere in the night. My callous fingertips smooth over her more sensitive palm. "Kid, if you're...ah...gonna leave, you better do it now." Gently, I press a kiss to her inner wrist. Marie's breath hitches.
"No, that's-that's okay. I'd...like to stay." Trembling words, but no real fear. I can't smell a lie on her.
Wolverine is standing at full attention-
(Note: 'The Wolverine' is not a euphemism for my penis. But close enough.)
-flooding my system with adrenaline and hormones. But I am focused on soothing out that nervousness in Marie's scent.
I swallow, urge her a little closer, let my hand drift up her arm. She's so small- or perhaps I'm so large- that my palm can cover her neck and cheek simultaneously. Softly, I stroke the fine bones there, skin so warm and tender. So different from that night on the statue. Her brown eyes open wide, guileless dark orbs.
As if drawn by gravity, I lean forward. Closer, closer.
An intake of breath and the taste of something sweet, like kiwi. Silk lips, eager but unpracticed. Our first few are short, sampling. Dip and pull away, soften her up. Then more intense, coax those lips, those teeth, apart. Inside much, much sweeter than fruit. Marie...god, Marie....places a hand on my chest-caressing, not restraining. I hook an arm about her waist, pull until her breasts are cushioned against me. A warm, deep rumble opens in my throat. Her breasts, they're-they're-
Stop.
Slow. Slow.
I nuzzle her cheek bone, down her neck, find a spot near Marie's shoulder that makes her shiver. Interesting. Gotta remember that.
"Logan," she breathes-half whisper, half purr. That's right, Baby. I gotcha. I gotcha.
Slowly ease her back. Run my hand everywhere. Rub her back, stroke her arms, her legs. My own muscles feel tight, over heated.
I kiss her collar bone, bite and lick gently. She touches my face, my shoulders, my hair, as if indecisive or frantic. Marie's hip squirm, thighs parting reflexively and that smell...
"Marie." I almost whimper.
That nightgown has to come off. Now. Right now.
I tug the black cotton up, over her hip, over her head. It's tossed to the side, lost amid the bed sheets and forgotten. Not missed.
I monitor Marie's responses, her scent, searching for distress.
She only grips me harder.
My thoughts lose all coherency at the sight of her breasts. Pale, perky, soft. all the best adjectives. And I have a sinking suspicion those garbled noises aren't staying in my head.
"Baby," I murmur, dragging my fingertips down her side. Marie jerks, ticklish. Another thing to remember.
Her hair fans out across the pillow, framing the youthful face. I swear, if she backs out now I will die-healing factor or no.
"Marie, you gotta be...you sure?"
In all fairness, perhaps I should have stopped touching her when I asked.
"Yes...Mmmh...I...am..yes, Logan...yes..."
I give into temptation, kiss slowly up her belly. Up, up. Her skin, salty and sweet. Velvet. Untouched.
Marie gasps when I reach her breasts. I might have too, if my mouth weren't full.
"L-Lo-Logan," Marie stammers. God.
I stroke her stomach soothingly, and graze the pert nipple with my teeth. I could spend hours doing this, days. Weeks, listening to the sounds Marie's making.
But there are more pressing issues.
I return my lips to hers.
"Marie, Marie, Marie." Have to keep touching her breasts, though. Gotta-gotta do that.
I reach over to the nightstand, yank the drawer open with enough force to break it-it'll never close now. Fumble around hurriedly...where's the...there.
Slip a condom out of the box, rip it open. I've had lots of practice with this. With one hand I push down the sweats. Marie stares, her eyes very, very wide. I don't blame her. I smile, and slide the rubber over stiff flesh.
I've done alot of things in my fifteen remembered years- crazy and kinky and dangerous, pushing body and virtue to the limit. But I've never been with a virgin. My usual tastes run to more hardened women, capable of taking a quick pounding and greedy release.
It's never been like this.
"Marie, Baby." I kiss her cheek. "Sweetie, you know this is gonna hurt a bit?"
She nods, nuzzles my neck.
My blood's pounding, coursing hot as fire. But in the midst of this I feel a deep calm, a swell of affection for the girl beneath me. It's so strong, like a solid presence within me. A core that will never go away.
I press a knee between her legs, part her thighs so I might settle between them. Those panties-white, with a black ribbon-are an obstacle, but not for long.
Soft hair, pink petaled skin, a concentrated warmth.
My lips never leave Marie's face. Kissing, tickling, encouraging.
A brush against her entrance, a tight ring of muscle.
"Marie...Marie."
Slowly ease forward.
God, so tight. So hot. My body's trembling with the effort of restraint, but I can barely hear the Wolverine's voice. Perhaps because his is so blended with my own.
A gasp, a whimper of pain. the scent of blood. I've got my eyes locked on Marie's. A hundred promises and endearments spilling from me.
Sinking in, then pulling out. Over and over. And Marie is kissing my neck, my mouth, my cheek, my eyelids. She's talking, but I only recognize my name in the babble.
Rising tension. Ridged skin against tender. Steel in softer muscles. Beautiful traction. A static so..."Uh..." good it's almost painful.
"Yes...Logan...Logan..."
Marie's whimpers, her chest shuddering. Amazing smell. Building, building.
Her body thrashing, arching under mine. Warm, so warm.
"That's right, Baby. That's right."
Sudden clenching. Hips jerk, gush of liquid and I am not going slow any more.
Taste of blood, because I'm biting my lips rather than her shoulder. Hard. Fast. Hard.
Marie, caressing my shoulders. Fierce growl in my throat and then flames, filling her. Pumping. Spasming. Hoarse yell. Shut my eyes and find a galaxy, darkness.
A brief time of unconsciousness-no thought or sensation.
And then I'm back, leaning on my elbows because my body instinctively knows not to crush her.
Kissing her temple, again and again.
"I love you. I love you."
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000
Author's Chapter Notes:
Hello! I'd like to thank all you wonderful reviewers. I never know if I should reply to each one individually- the words "thank you" become flat and repetitious after awhile. But please know that if your's is one, I am unbelievably grateful. Your feedback is so helpful and welcome. And if we were face to face, I would be jumping up and down, giving you hugs and doughnuts.
Chapter End Notes:
I hope you all enjoyed reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. If your response is..."Bleh.", please keep in mind that it was my first time writing a sex scene, and I apologize. As ever, I would love to hear your response. Only one chapter to go- and it will be a longish one. (Perhaps an epilouge as well, but I can't decide). Anyway- Flippidyistypickle!!