“You can leave any time, Logan,” she said, her back to him. “Leave here, leave the mansion. I know you think you are bound by some ridiculous obligation, but that’s not true anymore. The helpless girl you made that promise to is gone. I can feel you trying to break free, distancing yourself more every day. I know I just embarrass you, disgust you now. I understand. Just stop pretending, it’s only hurting us both. I’m not Marie anymore, and I don’t need your protection.” She could hear the flatness and emptiness in her voice as she finished her thought. “I’m Rogue, and I don’t need anyone.”
She pressed the sharp stone into her palm, and focused on the pain. I am stone, she thought. Nothing can hurt me, I am stone.
Again, he moved so silently, she had no idea he was right behind her until he spoke, his growly voice so close that she jumped.
“You’re wrong.”
She turned to face him, and her breath caught in her throat. She had seen him angry before, had thought she had seen every mood that he had. She had never seen him like this, however. Something in his eyes, a dark intent. Part anger, but more than that.
She had never been afraid of Logan, but something on the edge between fear and excitement unfurled in her belly under that dark gaze. She was pinned by it, hadn’t even realized she was backing away or he was stalking towards her until she felt the rough trunk of the tree against her back.
She couldn’t break free of that intent stare, the brawny arms that came up on either side of her, hemming her in against the trunk, were superfluous. She couldn’t even think of escape, didn’t even want to go anymore. She leaned her head back against the trunk, focused entirely on him as he came closer and closer.
“About what?” she managed.
At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer. He leaned in even further, his body so close the fabric of their clothes was brushing. His head dipped down, and a shudder ran through her as she felt the barest scrape of his stubbly cheek against her neck, the rush of air as he inhaled her scent.
She pressed the palms of her hands back against the tree, dropping the rock, feeling the texture of the bark and trying to keep her legs from wobbling. His head tipped up a bit -- was that his lips just skimming her neck? -- before he rumbled in her ear. "Wrong about everything.”
“You think I’m avoiding you because I’m embarrassed by you? Because I’m disgusted by you? What the hell are you thinking, Marie? I’ve been avoiding you because I know that if I don’t I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.”
He seemed to inhale her gasp of surprise, his lips brushing up to her temple now, the barest contact. His hand came up to cup her cheek, tipping her head up to meet his eyes again as his golden hazel gaze scalded her.
“I know it’s wrong. Hell, you were practically my ward. But I can’t be near you without wanting you. I can’t smell you without wanting to be inside you. And god help me if I touch you, I am never going to let go of you.”
His voice was harsh and guttural, almost angry, but his words and closeness were spreading a delicious warmth inside her body.
“You’re right about one thing,” he muttered, his breath rough against her skin. “I’ve tried to leave the mansion. I’ve even gotten a few hours away before I’ve turned around to come back here to you, because I can’t stay the hell away from you. That’s why I’ve been stalking you through these damn woods. That’s why I watch you day and night, and try to never let you see me. Because I know I’m no good for you, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to fucking have you. And now that I know it’s what you want too, I don’t care anymore whether it’s right or not. So here’s what you’re wrong about -- pretty damn much everything. Especially when you say you don’t need anyone. You need me, and I’m going to show you how much.”
Before she could react, before her brain even kicked into gear, he dipped down and his mouth claimed hers, a quick deep kiss that he broke off the second she felt the pull, leaving her with just the ghost of his emotions and a stinging in her lips.
She brought her fingers up to touch her mouth, knowing her eyes must be wide as saucers above them. She felt as if the whole world had tilted and realigned itself in just a few moments, and the only constant in this new dizzying universe was the rough tree at her back and the rough man now pressing closer to her front.
His gloved hand came up to move her fingers aside and brush a thumb against her lips. She saw tenderness soften the intent look in his eyes, and something between a sob and a moan escaped her. She shifted her head to capture the thumb between her teeth, gently biting down through the leather until his gaze darkened with lust again.
“You’re mine, Marie,” he said, and she felt the truth of his words down to the very marrow of her bones. “You’ve been mine since the day we met. And now I’m claiming you.”
Again he kissed her, a deep warmth of tongue and a sharp nip of tooth that sent shivers down her spine, pulling away just in time, and moving to her neck, pressing a sucking bite there. She let her head fall back against the tree and allowed herself to just feel him, reveling in the contact, in the knowledge.
Logan, kissing her. Logan’s warm gloved hand, smoothing up her side, curling around to her lower back to press her fully against his body. Logan’s growl in her ear, as she pushed her hips against him, bringing her arms up to circle his waist as she had always imagined doing. Logan’s expert senses, knowing just how long he could linger without being hurt, the only person who would ever be fearless enough to even think of pressing his lips against her bare skin.
With seemingly effortless strength, he hiked her farther up the tree, one gloved hand brushing down her thigh to wrap her long bare leg around his waist. He tilted into her, the pressure of his jeans against the juncture of her legs unbearably sweet, the rasp of his stubbled cheek against her skin almost painfully sensual.
She had been deprived of touch for so long, she felt like she was going to burst from this sudden flood of sensation, but still she wanted more. His mouth claimed her breast, pushing aside the cup of her bra underneath to lick and then suck through the thin silk of her camisole, a burst of pleasure running through her with every rasp of his tongue. She felt his body and mouth begin a rhythm, grinding against her in a pattern that echoed deep into her bones.
“Marie,” he rumbled into her ear. “Let me show you...”
“Yes, Logan,” was all she could manage to say. And then, “Please.”
She heard the slide of metal against bone as he snicked out the claws, and then her shorts fell away. She felt his hair rough against her belly where his hand had rucked up her camisole, and then lower, as his mouth pushed against her panties, licking and sucking as she braced her hands first on his shoulders and then around the tree behind her as she tried not to collapse from the sensation.
He pulled one leg over his shoulder now, and she felt the solid flannel under her knee as he increased the pressure, his stubbled cheek rasping against her inner thigh as he increased the pace, until she was making helpless little sounds, breathless gasps and entreaties.
“That’s it, baby,” he mumbled against her. “Come for me. Show me that you’re mine.”
His words were the trigger, and she felt the rush overtake her, the delicious painful edge of sensation drawing on seemingly endlessly as he gently worked against her, making it last, putting his mark on her until she slid bonelessly onto his knees where he kneeled before her.
He gathered her up and carried her to where the blanket lay, easily supporting her weight with one arm while he stretched it out with another and laid her down.
She was still in a daze as he lay down next to her, pulling her into the warmth and strength of his body, her head naturally finding the crook of his shoulder and her arm the curve of his waist. She slowly emerged into rational thought, first taking in the warmth of his body against hers, and then the careful deep breaths he was taking and the tension in his rugged frame. She suddenly realized, and brought his hand up to press it to her lips.
“My gloves...” she said, “I want to touch you.” He kissed the top of her head, and then her lips again.
“This was for you, Marie,” he said. “I don’t want to rush you. We have time.”
She almost laughed out loud, and could feel the smile spreading across her face.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to touch you, Logan? To see you? If this is about me, then this is what I want. Right now.”
His smile answered hers and she reached out, brushing her fingertips over his stubbled cheek too lightly to really touch the skin and start the pull, realizing how long it had been since she had seen him looking happy. She sat up and spotted her backpack just a few feet away, quickly retrieving it and finding her gloves by feel.
Logan’s gaze sharpened on the bag as well. “If I remember correctly...” he rumbled, and unerringly pulled her gauzy long-sleeved shirt from the pile.
She was confused for just a moment, and then understood and held her hands, still holding the gloves, over her head while he drew the camisole off her body. Even in gloves his hands were remarkably deft, unclasping her bra and peeling it away so that she knelt before him in just her panties.
The look in his eye took her breath away, she could only stare at him as he drank in the sight of her, running his gloved hands over her bare breasts. His gaze was both reverent and avaricious, and once again she shivered just to see it. He allowed himself a few quick moments to suck her nipples back to hardness before he drew the translucent shirt over her, his eyes admiring the shadow and texture of the dusky skin through the fabric.
He pulled off the gloves and let the backs of his hands carelessly brush up against her as he fastened the buttons down to the very bottom of the shirt, smiling at the intake of her breath and the brightness in her eyes that he was causing.
Suddenly she couldn’t get her gloves on quickly enough. “My turn,” she said, pushing him back and straddling his hips, enjoying the rasp of his jeans between her thighs and the low growl he made as he pushed up into her.
She began unbuttoning his shirt before growing impatient, pulling him to lean forward so she could yank it over his head, laughing when it tangled in his long arms and gasping when he took the opportunity of her precarious position to once again press his mouth against her breasts, laving and suckling her nipples through the thin fabric of her shirt.
Then her hands were drawing his undershirt off him, and a sudden stillness came over her as she finally had him laid out before her, full access to all his beautiful skin.
“You know, the first time I ever saw you your shirt was off, sugar,” she said in an exaggerated drawl, drawing another smile from him. “It’s taken a damn long time to get back to this point.”
She ran her thinly-gloved hands over his broad shoulders, down his arms, across his chest. Everywhere she had ever wanted to touch. She leaned down and let her breasts, thinly veiled by the fabric of her shirt, brush against his body, breathing in the scent at the base of his neck as he had done to her, smiling at the shuddering reaction that brought.
“Marie,” he rasped, hands firm on her hips over the fabric of her shirt, pushing up against her and closing his eyes.
She ran the heel of her hand firmly down the hard ridge pressing against the front of his jeans, and he groaned, bucking his hips up into her hand. She drew the zipper down and released him into her hand, caressing him with the silken gloves, smiling at the rapid indrawn breath, the increasingly urgent movements of his body as he pushed up against her.
“Do you...” she started, but he was already drawing the wallet from his pocket, tossing it to her. “And to think earlier I was cursing you for always being prepared,” she said, and he raised an eyebrow in inquiry briefly before her hand smoothed the latex over him, making his eyes close with pleasure and drawing another rumble from his chest.
She could tell his self-control was straining, but still he let her untutored hands explore, testing the texture and feel of him, gauging his strength and reactions. She lowered her head and experimented with the feel of him against her lips, and in her mouth.
“Christ, Marie,” he ground out, as she licked up his length, and then sucked him fully into her mouth. “Marie...”
She relented, lifting her head to answer the question in his eyes. “You were right,” she said. “From the day we met, I was yours.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “And it’s you that I need.”
A possessive growl this time, as he flipped them over, settling solidly between her thighs. She saw him searching her eyes and knew he saw nothing but conviction there before they fluttered closed as he cut the panties from her body and arched closer to her. Her gloved hand pressed against his cheek, and he mirrored her previous actions as he gently bit her thumb, her eyes drawn open by his gentle nip to look into his and then widening at the intent predatory gleam she saw there.
“Look at me,” he said. “Look at me while I take you.” She nodded, arousal flushing her skin a delicate pink at his words, and he drank in the sight and scent as he pressed slowly into her.
Every reason against this was forgotten, this was so very undeniably right, as she felt her body briefly resist and then welcome him. She could feel him ruthlessly controlling his urges in order to allow her time to adjust, caressing her through the shirt on her sides, belly, breasts, until she began to push up against his body, seeking more.
Then he began a gentle rhythm, and she felt warmth rush over her as a new kind of pleasure began to grow inside her. Her thighs came up to cradle his hips even closer, the denim of his jeans rasping her as she found new leverage to match the movement of her body to his, heightening every sensation.
He moved against her more urgently, driving her relentlessly towards her pleasure and his, pressing against her as if he could take her inside his own body, mark her, claim her.
He threw his head back and she ran a silk-covered hand down his corded throat, as everything inside her seemed to draw into a single point where they were joined, and then explode outward in spreading waves.
She pressed the heel of her gloved hand against her mouth to suppress her scream, and Logan growled in triumph as he buried his head in her shoulder and shuddered against her as his own ecstasy overtook him.
He rolled them over, settling her boneless weight in a soft heap on top of his chest, her hair a silken veil between her cheek and the skin of his chest while he curled his arms protectively over her. The breeze cooled the sweat from their bodies, and the warmth of the sun washed over them, as Logan lazily traced circles on Marie’s back with his fingertips.
“I warned you,” he said in time. “You let me touch you, and now I’m never letting go.” He was trying to keep his voice light, but she heard the underlying emotion and possessiveness in his words, as his hands clenched reflexively against her.
She smiled against his chest, and nuzzled her head into his body briefly before lifting it to gaze seriously into his eyes. “Sugar,” she said. “It’s a deal.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This is the chapter that brings on the smut...be warned! :-D