Marie. That sunshine-and-rain smell of her, the taste of peaches and sweet grass as he delved into her mouth. The soft feel of her against him, curves filling his hand as he pressed into her, scraping his teeth against her neck, rubbing his scent on her, claiming her...
__________________
Logan lurched into consciousness. He held his breath as the soft weight of Marie stirred on top of him. He was lying on his back, Marie draped over his chest, her luscious breasts pressed close against his side, a slender firm thigh thrown over his. And he was excruciatingly, painfully hard.
Marie stirred again, and Logan felt the rumble start in his chest, stifling it with concentration as his hands clenched and unclenched, grabbing fistfuls of sheet to keep from touching her. He was so acutely attuned to her that he felt the shift in her breathing, the slight irregularity to her pulse, the fraction of a degree drop in her body temperature as she woke.
Sleep-hazed dark eyes gazed into his as a slow smile spread across her face. “Hi,” she said.
She reached out a soft gloved hand, tracing it slowly down his cheek, and something in him snapped. He turned his head, teeth closing firmly on the fleshy pad of her palm through the silk, as his eyes closed in the ecstasy of feeling her flesh firm between his teeth, marking her...
He felt and heard her sharp intake of breath, but when he opened his eyes her eyes were wide not with shock, but with pure heated lust. This time he could not suppress the growl, and he saw her pupils dilate at the sound an instant before her mouth met his in a hungry, clinging kiss.
God, she was so good, her kiss unpracticed but so hot and sweet and wet, and he wanted to devour her. He could feel the muscles in his shoulders bunching from the tension of restraint as he let her explore, her small gloved hands burrowing under his shirt to glide across the planes of his chest. He shuddered as her hand brushed his nipple, and he felt her smile against his mouth in response.
He wrapped his arms around her, hauling her up until she was fully over him and her thighs automatically parted, straddling him as he deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding slick against hers. He grasped her hips in his hands and pushed her down hard onto the bulge in his jeans, drinking in her shocked moan as the honey-sweet smell of her arousal thickened in the air.
She drew back to look at him, and the mixture of lust and wonder in her eyes was as erotic to him as the feel and smell and taste of her. He pressed her down again as he arched up, pushing into her softness, watching with fascination her intake of breath, the dark flicker in her eyes, the color rising in her cheeks at the sensation.
He ran a thumb across her lips. “So goddamn beautiful...”
Her eyes fluttered closed, and now she was moving against him, tentatively, experimentally, and it was driving him mad. His hands closed on her hips again, guiding her, helping her find a rhythm as he pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over her head.
He closed his eyes again, trying to restrain himself, but the image of her auburn and white hair falling down around her lush, perfect breasts was burned indelibly in his mind. His left hand still at the small of her back to direct and deepen the press of her body into his, he brought his right hand up to cup her breast, feeling the nipple pebble under his palm, flicking it with his thumb before bringing his mouth up to taste it, firm and berry-sweet on his tongue.
Their breath rasped in the quiet room, small soft cries and whimpers escaping her, rough wet growls low in his own throat as they ground into each other with abandon. The bed squeaked rhythmically and her small hands clenched on his shoulders as he licked and nipped at her breasts, her lips, her neck.
He could feel the tension in her building, and her eyes opened to meet his. “Please,” she whispered. “Please.” His mouth claimed hers again in a blazing, bruising kiss as he rolled her underneath him, his hand sliding over her taut belly as she made a soft noise -- anticipation or protest, he didn’t know. He grazed her neck with his stubbled jaw before taking the tender skin of her earlobe gently between his teeth, tugging. He breathed into her ear, feeling her shudder. “Hush...let me touch you, darlin’.”
She shook her head even as her body bucked reflexively up into the warmth of his hand. “My control...” she gasped.
“You let me know if you’re slipping, baby. It’ll be okay.”
Any further protests were lost as his mouth claimed hers, his hand sliding into her pajama pants to circle and stroke, soothe and arouse. One finger and then two delved deep, and Logan clenched his jaw against the feel of her, so tight and hot and wet around his hand.
Her head was thrown back, exposing the slender line of her neck, and he was drawn irresistibly to place sucking bites there, feeling her soft cries vibrating through the skin of her throat where it pressed against his mouth, working his fingers in her to push her closer and closer to the edge.
“Logan...” she entreated, and the sound of his name on her lips sent a jolt of lust rocketing through him.
He lowered his head to suckle her breast again, teeth grazing her tender skin as his thumb circled and pressed, making her cry out beneath him. “That’s it, baby...c’mon, darlin’...this is for you..take it...”
He smelled her arousal crest, and he growled in primal satisfaction as her whole body arched, spine taut as a bowstring, heels pressed hard against the bed as she shuddered and spasmed around his fingers. He kept her at the peak for endless moments, his hand pressing and stroking and circling. As the last shudder passed through her, he eased her down gently, lapping soothingly at her breast, pulling his hand away from her slick skin to rub gentle circles on her belly.
He pulled her in close to him, cuddling and soothing her as her body twitched with aftershocks, her muscles as lax as his were rock-hard with hard-won restraint. Her breathing evened out and she looked up at him, her eyes glowing lambently in the morning light. He couldn’t help himself from running a hand down her bare back, and she shivered and sighed against him. God, she was so damn responsive. He took deep heavy breaths, feeling the Wolverine scrabbling and howling at the back of his mind.
“Logan...?” she said, as confusion, and then understanding, and finally determination crossed her face. She slid her hand firmly over the taut muscles of his abdomen and he practically howled. He grabbed her wrist.
“Marie...you don’t have to...”
The sharp nip of her teeth on his earlobe interrupted him as she popped the buttons on his fly one by one, the relief almost unbearable as she released him from the constraint of his tight rough jeans into her silken gloved hand.
“I want to,” she breathed into his ear. “Show me.”
He was lost, his body aflame, the tension in him ratcheted to the breaking point as his hand came down almost roughly over hers. He showed her what to do, helplessly bucking and shaking against her as he succumbed to the exquisite pleasure of her hand on his body. He breathed in her enticing scent mixed with his, nuzzling his face fiercely into the curve of her neck, until finally he came hard, spilling into her hand, shivering and pulsing as he ground out her name against her soft skin.
He pulled her hard against him, squeezing her tight. What have I done?
__________________
Logan sat in the car, listening to the stunned silence on the other end of the line as Xavier processed what he had been told. I should enjoy this, it’s not often someone can knock Chuck for a loop. Telling himself that didn’t help the sour feeling in his gut. Marie’s soft voice rang in his memory, gnawing at his conscience. “I’ve never told anyone what happened...”
“My God. Not only the power to take on any mutation, to overcome any mutation, but...”
“Yeah. Magneto in her head. Access not just to all he knows, but the way he thinks.”
“It is no wonder he is pursuing her. Such a liability...he would not be able to tolerate it.”
“She’s damn lucky to have made it this far.”
“This removes all doubt. She must join us. I cannot think how she would be safe otherwise. And she would be a formidable asset to the team. Insight into the very workings of Magneto’s mind...”
Logan felt an unbearable pressure building in his chest.
“Charles...”
Another stunned silence, and Logan realized he had never before used Xavier’s given name.
“Logan?”
Logan put his head down on the steering wheel, breathing heavily. “I think I fucked this up,” he ground out.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“It’s gotten...complicated.”
Logan could almost see Xavier reaching out with his mind, trying to grasp his meaning. Goddamn, he almost wished Xavier could read his mind, so he wouldn’t have to say the words.
“Logan, are you trying to say...” A delicate pause. “Is there something going on between the two of you?”
“No. Yeah. Fuck, I don’t know. We’re not...I haven’t...” Christ, Logan felt like he was having to explain his intentions to a girl’s father. “We just...there’s some sort of connection. And she hasn’t trusted anyone, ever, since Magneto. She already got reeled in once by Bobby. How can I tell her it happened again? That I’ve been after her this whole time? What is that going to do to her?”
A thoughtful silence on the other end.
“I must admit, I never expected this, Logan...for you...”
“You don’t have to tell me. I know.” The idea was almost absurd -- the Wolverine, professional badass, getting all emotional on a mission. Getting entangled with a slip of a girl. Fuck, he could hardly believe it himself.
“This will take consideration. Although, if she has Erik’s knowledge, she must already know of me. Know that we have a fundamental disagreement in our approach...”
“I don’t know. She said she locked him up tighter than any of ‘em. That he scared her most of all -- trying to take over, his nightmares of concentration camps keeping her up for weeks before she got him put away. I don’t think she would access him again without a damn good reason.”
“I see.” Another thoughtful pause. “Where will you be tonight?”
Logan thought about it. “Tennessee, probably.”
“Keep your GPS on. I’ll bring the jet and meet you. It may be wiser for me to approach her myself.”
“That’s a fuckin’ cowardly way for me to do it.”
Xavier sighed. “Her assent is all that matters, and we will do this in whatever way we must to ensure that she grants it. I can at least show her my thoughts, if it helps to convince her of our sincerity. And at worst, if she refuses, at least we know now that she will not flee to the Brotherhood...”
“Goddamn it, Chuck, that’s not good enough. She has to come with us. She has to. I can’t leave her alone out there.”
“We shall do our best.”
________________
Logan lounged on the motel bed, pretending to watch the hockey game as dark thoughts roiled in his head. He had been on edge all day, and he knew Marie had noticed. He had told her it was a headache from the whiskey-and-charcoal smell of the Jack Daniel Distillery they had toured earlier, but he could tell from her nervous gestures and sidelong glances that she didn’t quite believe him.
He took a pull from the commemorative bottle of whiskey in his hand, ironically the only alcohol sold in the damn dry county Lynchburg was in. Marie came out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, her skin flushed warm from her shower. She smelled sweet and soft and enticing, and he took another pull on the whiskey to try to drown her scent.
She approached him somewhat cautiously, finally sitting beside him and nudging in under his arm. He sighed and pulled her in close, still pretending to watch the game. His arm tightened reflexively as she turned her head into his shoulder and breathed in his scent.
“Can I have some?” she asked, and he handed over the bottle without a word. She took a hearty slug and handed it back. “Thanks.”
He grunted, the whiskey already to his mouth, his body reacting involuntarily to the taste of her on the bottle.
She lay her head back on his shoulder, watching the game. He could practically hear the thoughts ticking through her brain. Finally, she asked it.
“Are you mad at me? Sorry that we...”
She stopped, blushing, and he felt every bit like the bastard he was.
“‘Course not, darlin’,” he said, but the denial in his voice rang hollow even to his own ears.
She sat up suddenly, turning her back to him.
“Dammit, Marie...” He grabbed her chin, wiping the tears away with his thumb. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said urgently. “I’m just an asshole sometimes.”
She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He pulled her close, feeling her tears gather in the hollow of his neck. “I know. I’m sorry, darlin’.”
She lifted her head, running a gloved thumb over his lower lip. “I wish you would kiss me again,” she said, her vulnerability naked in her eyes, and he was lost. His mouth came down hard on hers as he kissed her almost brutally, the delicious taste of her mingling with the smoky-sweet taste of whiskey in his mouth. Her response was equally fierce, as her teeth clashed against his, their tongues tangling.
He tumbled her underneath him, his mouth frantically seeking, hands restlessly moving over her body. He ground down into her and she clung to him desperately, both of them scrabbling as if to hold on to something that was already slipping from their grasp. He couldn’t get close enough. With a frustrated roar he lifted her, pushing her back against the headboard, kneeling between her spread thighs.
He pushed the full weight of his body into her, pressing against her as if he could make her part of him, as if he could imprint her body with the feel of his so deeply that she would never forget it. He felt the growl rumbling up from his chest, and against his will it formed a word. “Mine,” he said, as he grasped the headboard with both hands, pressing his teeth into the curve of her neck, marking her, his claws snapping out with the savagery of his need.
She threw her head back, exposing even more of her neck to him, submitting to him entirely. “Yes,” she breathed. “Yours.”
He froze, looking down at her, his mark already blooming red on the tender creamy skin of her neck. Slowly he pulled away, sheathing the claws, letting her slide down his body to the bed. What am I doing? he thought again. What have I done?
He turned his back to her, gulping in deep breaths, steeling his body against the urge to claim her entirely. He stood up, snagging the bottle of whiskey on the way out the door. “I’ll be back,” he mumbled, refusing to meet her eyes as he slammed the door shut behind him.
______________________
Logan walked blindly, taking pulls from the bottle as he went. Christ, what the fuck was he doing? Xavier was coming tonight, and he was getting in deeper and deeper. He stopped suddenly. He had to tell her himself. He couldn’t let Xavier do it. It would be bad enough coming from him, he couldn’t stand by and let someone else tell her. He reached for his phone to call Xavier, to stall him...
The phone wasn’t in his pocket, and he cursed in irritation. Then the realization hit him, as the bottle of whiskey fell from his nerveless fingers. He turned and started back to the motel, breaking into a run. He couldn’t catch his breath, blood was roaring in his ears. Kitty had told him a dozen times how to password-protect his phone, and he just hadn’t taken the time to figure it out...
______________________
The smell of her fear and confusion hit him the moment he opened the motel room door.
She sat on the bed, her face pale, thumb still automatically paging through the texts. She didn’t even look at him. “You got a text,” she said softly. “I was going to bring you your phone and then I saw my name...”
Finally, she looked up at him numbly. “The target? This whole thing was a set-up?”
“Marie, no...”
“You had someone destroy your own bike so you’d have an excuse to ride with me? This whole time you’ve just been playin’ me?” He watched helplessly as the confusion in her eyes turned to anguished betrayal, and then finally anger.
He opened his mouth to protest, to explain, but abruptly his jaw clamped shut. He suddenly felt his body being lifted, the room spinning crazily as he was pinned to the opposite wall. Marie was watching him, eyes blazing, hand held up in front of her. As he watched she spread her fingers and his arms splayed, claws snapping out against his will. He tried to struggle against the force, but he couldn’t move an inch.
“You can tell Lehnsherr that white hair isn’t the only souvenir he left me with,” she hissed at him, the drawl coming out in her voice. “Ah can taste the metal in your bones.” She stepped closer, and he saw the cold fury in her eyes. “Ah hate you,” she said, and he felt the words like a knife to his gut. “Ah hate you for what you did to me, and Ah hate you for what you’re makin’ me do to you.” A flick of her fingers, and his body flew forward a few inches, only to slam back into the wall, knocking the breath from his lungs.
“You must have thought Ah was pathetic.” She took on a mocking tone. “Sad little Marie, beggin’ for your kiss. So desperate that a few crumbs of affection would win her trust.” He tried to speak his denial, but he couldn’t force a word past his clenched jaw. Her voice was low and raspy now, thick with unshed tears. “Lonely untouchable Marie, give her a kiss and a squeeze and she’ll follow you anywhere.” Her voice broke. “And Ah would have.”
Suddenly the mask of anger dropped, and all he could see was anguish. Frozen in place, he looked into her stricken eyes and realized that there was some part of herself she had managed to protect through whatever she had endured before she met him, and now it was broken, irrevocably. He had broken it.
“You’re the only man I ever wanted to touch, Logan,” she said softly, her voice the barest whisper, raw with pain. She pulled her glove off. The force holding his body to the wall was released, and he slumped to the floor on his knees. “It looks like I get my wish.” Before he could react she reached out and brushed his cheek. He realized he had never before felt her bare hand on his skin. At first the touch of her warm hand was soft -- a tender caress, a benediction. He had the insane thought that she had forgiven him. It was the last thought he had before the agonizing pain overtook him, and then the darkness.
__________
[text message log:]
Xavier to Logan: We have established her identity. Anna Marie D’Ancanto, also known as Rogue. I will be in Tennessee within the hour.
. . .
Logan to Xavier: You’ll be just in time to pick up your errand boy, then. He’s unconscious in room 362 of the Daylight Motel off Route 55. Stay the hell away from me, Wheels. Next time I won’t be so kind. -- Rogue.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Yeah, I'm ridiculously impatient about updating. Just remember these every-other-day updates and cut me some slack when I hit writer's block in the next part! ;-)
A quick word about Marie's accent. I made the mistake of having her say in an earlier chapter that it comes out when she's angry, and since she's about to get as angry as she's ever been in this chapter I felt like I had to write the accent. I hope it's not distracting. In my conception she drawls when she's angry or drunk, but not really when she's sad or whatever, and that's why it kind of switches on and off. Anyway, I've been stringing you guys along for quite a while about the big "reveal" of Logan's mission, hope the payoff is worth it! Please review. :-) ETA: Oh, yeah...smut ho! Be warned. ;-)
A quick word about Marie's accent. I made the mistake of having her say in an earlier chapter that it comes out when she's angry, and since she's about to get as angry as she's ever been in this chapter I felt like I had to write the accent. I hope it's not distracting. In my conception she drawls when she's angry or drunk, but not really when she's sad or whatever, and that's why it kind of switches on and off. Anyway, I've been stringing you guys along for quite a while about the big "reveal" of Logan's mission, hope the payoff is worth it! Please review. :-) ETA: Oh, yeah...smut ho! Be warned. ;-)
Chapter End Notes:
Please review! :-D