The tingle started and he shifted his bare hand off her skin, giving her time to think, lowering her to stand back on her feet. His ungloved hand brushed over her hair tenderly, soothingly.
“It’s fear, darlin’. Your mutation’s defensive. Think about it -- from the time your mutation kicked in, have you ever touched someone without bein’ afraid of hurtin’ them, or them hurtin’ you?”
“I...” She felt like her world had just tilted on its axis. She was suddenly lightheaded, her blood thrumming in her veins, and his hands gripped her more firmly as she swayed.
“Easy, now.” He guided her to the bed, sitting her down.
Her stunned eyes met his. “How did you know?”
“I didn’t, not really. But when you were unconscious your mutation didn’t work, and then some times it took longer to kick in than others. It made me wonder.”
She tried to pull a coherent thought from the jumble in her mind. “I can...control it?”
He nuzzled her hair a little. “It’s okay if you can’t, Marie. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. But I think maybe you can, if you can learn not to be afraid.” A gleam of his teeth in the semi-darkness as he smiled wolfishly. “Or if I can keep you distracted enough.”
A sound escaped her that was half a giggle and half a sob. She shook her head in amazement. “Just...don’t be afraid?”
He nodded. “Might not be so easy. The fear is so reflexive for you now. But Marie -- you can’t hurt me. Even if you slip, you can’t hurt me. I’ll heal. You just have to believe it.”
She sat up a little straighter, sucking in a deep breath, wiping her eyes, getting herself under control. She lifted her head and looked at him -- his still-bare chest, his ruffled hair, the stretch of the muscles in his arm where his weight was braced, those golden hazel eyes. Logan.
“I can touch,” she said, her voice halting at first, but gaining certainty with each word. “I can touch you.”
His eyes darkened again at her words. “God, Marie. Yeah.” His muscles were wound tight with restraint, his voice rough as his hot gaze met hers. “You can touch me.”
She felt as if she were watching herself from a distance -- surely she would not be bold enough to do this -- as she drew the glove from one hand, and then the other. She started with just one finger, resting the barest, lightest touch against the back of his hand, ready to pull back at any moment. I can touch, she repeated to herself. I won’t hurt him.
The seconds stretched out endlessly, but each moment without the tingle gave her more confidence. I can touch.
She traced a light pattern on the back of his hand, drinking in the sight of her bare skin touching his. Growing bolder, she placed the tips of all five fingers firmly against his skin, enjoying the warmth and texture of it. She drew her fingertips down between his knuckles, where the claws emerged, and he shuddered, closing his eyes. “Marie...”
“Hush.” She felt the slow smile on her lips as she used his own words to tease him, rubbing her thumb on the pad of flesh at the base of his palm and then lifting his hand in hers. A brush of her lips on the back of his hand and then she opened his fingers, placing a soft, sucking kiss to his palm, ending with a sharp nip to the pad of flesh she had rubbed. He groaned, his fingers tightening reflexively on hers.
She looked him over consideringly, giddy with her new-found power. “Lie back,” she whispered.
A reflexive low growl from him and then he visibly reined himself in, moving back to lie down in the center of the bed. She knew this submission was difficult for him -- his muscles were bunched with tension, his hands clenched in fists -- but he seemed determined to let her set the pace. She saw him turn his head, inhaling the scent of her from the pillows.
She kneeled next to him, taking in the way he looked in the dim light. Something hot and needy unfurled in her belly at the sight -- that magnificent body and all that beautiful, unmarked skin, hers to explore. She reached up slowly, reverently, feeling the texture of his wild hair for the first time, rough and silky all at once. Her nails scraped his scalp, and he closed his eyes and practically purred, pushing up into her touch.
She trailed her palm down his cheek, feeling his prickly stubbled jaw for the first time without the barrier of silk between them. She stroked her fingers down the muscles cording his throat, smiling again as a rumble that he couldn’t seem to suppress tickled her palm. She spread her hand over his shoulder, feeling the coiled muscles there flexing under her touch as he shifted restlessly. The rumble got louder as she felt the crinkly texture of his chest hair, his nipple hardening under her palm as he bucked his hips uncontrollably at her touch.
“Marie...” His raspy voice was half a plea and half a warning. She leaned over him, hearing the tags around her neck clink together as she took his nipple in her mouth, licking and sucking at it as he twisted underneath her. She felt seductive, powerful. I can touch. I can touch him. She reveled in every hitch she caused in his breath, in the thin film of sweat forming on his brow, in the rough noises she was forcing from his throat. She wanted to make him frantic.
She sat back again, trailing a hand down the tight leather of his pants where they stretched over his hip, watching him buck again at her touch. She trailed the hand lower and lower, grazing his inner thigh, and then stopped to teasingly pull off his socks.
“Dammit, Marie...” His eyes glittered with warning.
“Sorry, sugar.” He growled softly again at the sound of her honeyed drawl, his hands restlessly clenching fistfuls of the blankets. She relented, trailing her hand back up and pressing on the firm ridge at the front of his pants, feeling his body hard and eager under her hand. He groaned, pushing up into her hand even harder, the leather almost as warm as she knew his skin would be.
“Marie...” Another plea, growled like a command, as she traced the shape of him and then scraped her fingernails down the rigid length under the taut leather. “Christ, Marie, yes...” The words dissolved into gruff, inarticulate sounds of wanting as she stroked him lazily, her mind spinning with all the things she wanted to do to him.
The scent of him was all around her as she straddled his hips, drinking in his grunt of satisfaction as her weight settled on him, leaning in low to breathe the words against his lips. “I want to touch you, Logan.” A slow roll of her hips, sending hot desire spiking through her so sharply she had to close her eyes against it. She took in a deep breath, opening her eyes again, another thick current of desire running through her as she saw the expression of fierce pleasure on his face. She licked gently at his lips, and then a deep slick swipe of her tongue into his warm mouth. “I want to taste you.”
Something flared bright and gold in his eyes before he closed them, pushing up into her again. “Fuck, Marie. Yeah. All of that, darlin’.” Another sharp jerk of his hips, sending pleasure jolting through her. “Please, baby.”
She pushed back a bit, carefully unfastening his pants -- her own breath short now, her hands shaking with eagerness. They both sighed as she finally freed him from the tight leather and then she was touching him. Softly at first, taking in the velvet-and-steel feeling of him, and then more firmly, watching his jaw clench, corded muscles standing out in his neck as he threw his head back in reaction.
She leaned down, letting her hot breath brush his sensitive skin. Then she was taking him into her mouth -- licking gently, then sucking hard, gauging his reaction by the low, guttural words she forced from his throat.
“Fuck, baby...ah God, Marie...just like that...oh, fuck darlin’...so good...”
She let her hand wander over him, grasping the back of his thigh, then rubbing a deep slow circle at the base of his spine. She felt his control fray and suddenly he could no longer keep his hands from her. His fingers traced gently through her hair, down her neck, everywhere that he could reach.
“Christ, Marie...”
She lapped at him gently, teasing him, feeling him wind tighter and tighter with tension beneath her hands and mouth. Another swirl of her tongue and a deep, slow suck of his body into her mouth and something in him seemed to snap. He grasped her upper arms, pulling her up his body in a delicious slow slide of skin against skin. He tumbled her under him, pulling her sweatpants off in one smooth motion, kicking his pants off to join them. She lay breathless beneath him, taking in the feel of his whole body pressed tight against hers -- her breasts grazing his chest, belly flattened against his, his hard length snugged tight against her most sensitive skin.
He looked down at her, smoothing her hair, and then pressed his forehead to hers in a gesture so tender it made something twist inside her. His voice was a low strained whisper. “I want to make this good for you, Marie.”
She took his face between her hands, kissing him gently. “It is.” A press of her hips up against his, sending a luscious rush of sensation through her own body and making him groan into her mouth. “You are.”
He buried his face in her neck, pulling in a shuddering breath as she opened her thighs to him. The first slow press of his body into hers and she held her breath as the stretch and the burn of it warred with the pleasure of having him at last. Suddenly she felt her skin tingle and tried to pull away. “Logan!”
His hands stilled her, tenderly but firmly. “No, baby. It’s okay. You’re not gonna hurt me.” He muttered the words into her neck as he moved gently against her, building the pleasure as the pain faded. “God, even that -- it’s you, Marie -- fuck, it feels so good.” He moved his mouth to her breast as his hips continued their gentle rocking movements, and she caught a ghost of his feelings just as the burst of pleasure ended her skin’s defensive response.
Marie...mine...mine..so good...softwarmsweet...my Marie...
She realized with shock that even the feel of her skin activating held no fear for him. She let the rush of his devotion and acceptance and joy wash over her, and the pain was gone, leaving only a deep flicker of pleasure in its wake. She tentatively moved in counterpoint to each undulation of his body, trying to catch the rhythm, hushed excited noises escaping her with every push of their hips.
He was murmuring soft words now, urging her on. “That’s it darlin’...move with me...just like that, and...ah, God, Marie...” His movements were growing stronger now, each luxurious glide of his body into hers pushing her higher, the slow build from earlier intensified now to an almost unbearable level, and yet still she wanted more.
She scraped her nails down his back, urging him on. “More. Harder.” Every word was forced out of her by the hard press of his body into hers. “All of you.” He groaned again, pulling her thigh up high against his waist, pressing deeper, but still she sensed the ruthless control he was exerting to keep himself in check.
This time -- this first time -- she knew what she wanted from him. Her voice was urgent through the haze of desire as she breathlessly insisted. “Logan. All of you.”
He raised himself on one arm, still continuing the deep steady rhythm, holding her head with a hand wound through her hair as his dark gaze met hers. A moment of sudden stillness as he searched her eyes for the truth of it. Then he bared his teeth, throwing his head back, and she felt the relief roll through him as he finally let the animal surge forward -- his eyes burning gold and feral, his movements becoming rough and uncontrolled.
“Mine!” he growled into her throat, licking at the skin, and she bared her neck in submission as his words sent a raw shock of pleasure through her body. His head came up to look at her again, the feral eyes watchful. She wound her hands in his hair, knowing exactly what he sought. “Yours,” she breathed. “Only yours.” The golden gaze glittered with satisfaction as he took her mouth again in an invasive possessive kiss.
He was fucking her deeply, urgently now. It felt so good, the way he was filling her up, his body moving in hers, his hands on her skin, his huffing breaths and gruff snarls hot against her lips. Each rush of sensation combined and built into an overwhelming thick hot swell of pleasure, until finally she let it take her. She shuddered and spasmed, slurring his name into his mouth as her body clutched at his in complete abandon.
She felt a tremor pass through him, his growls turning into a roar of triumph as he ground into her mindlessly. He sucked hard at her neck and she heard the metallic slide of his claws. His teeth bit sharply down on the numbed skin, and then he was coming hard, growling her name against the excited thrum of her pulse as he spilled into her body. She clasped him to her, feeling convulsive shudders of pleasure move through the taut muscles of his back as he pulsed wetly inside her for endless moments.
She felt incapable of movement, boneless and sated as he sheathed the claws and slid reluctantly from her body. He lowered himself beside her, his massive frame still shaking as he rested his head on her breast. She tried to steady her panting breaths, enjoying the feel of his stubbled jaw against her skin, tracing her nails though his wild hair.
He nuzzled into her, licking a path up her collarbone and then sighing with satisfaction into her ear. She turned her head to look at him, smiling, and he suddenly tensed.
“Logan?” she asked.
He raised himself on his elbow, his eyes guarded. He slowly reached out, brushing her hair back from her neck, and she felt the sting as the damp hair unstuck from his bite.
“Marie...” She saw the self-loathing creeping into his eyes and voice, and hated it.
“No.” The sharpness of her voice startled him, finally tearing his eyes from the bite to look at her. “Don’t you dare apologize. Not for anything.”
His expression was resigned now, regretful. “I hurt you, Marie.” His hand brushed gently down her body, and she knew he was worried about more than the bite.
“No.” She propped herself up on her elbow to face him, pulling the thick hank of her hair over the other shoulder, proudly displaying his mark. “Dammit, Logan. You’re all talk. Telling me my skin is beautiful, that I need to accept it. Well, you need to accept some things too.”
Her voice softened, her hand reaching out to cup his jaw. “You’re beautiful too, sugar. Wolverine, your feral side, whatever you want to call it. All of you. That’s what I wanted. Don’t you dare apologize for giving it to me.”
She captured his hand, pressing it hard against the bite even as he tried to pull away. She gasped at the jolt of pleasure-pain, watching his eyes dilate as his gaze grew hot, knowing he could smell it on her. She shivered as seemingly against his own will his thumb brushed lightly over the mark of his teeth on her skin.
“You didn’t hurt me, sugar. You marked me.” She saw the flicker of surprise cross his face, and a slow smile spread across her lips. She didn’t even know how she knew, but she did. As much as he knew her, she knew him too. “You didn’t think I would understand?” She tilted her head, deliberately displaying the mark further, watching his eyes snap there. “I understand. It means I’m yours.”
She saw something flare again in his eyes, hot and dark. “Yours,” she repeated huskily. “And you’re mine.” She brushed her hair back again and eased back down to lie beneath him, knowing he would understand the gesture of total submission. She saw him lean forward unconsciously, and then pull himself back. “Go ahead,” she whispered. “I know what you want. Taste me.”
A low soft growl from him, and then he was snuffling at her neck, breathing in her scent. She felt his tongue, rough and flat, licking at the bite, chasing away the traces of blood and pain with soothing laps of his tongue. Her toes curled with the pleasure of it, but she lay still beneath him until he stopped. With a final sinuous lick he drew back, slowly coming to lie beside her. He placed his hand along her cheek, looking a little shaken, but she could see the relief and satisfaction in his eyes, warring with the shame. It was enough for now. She turned her head, placing a kiss in his palm.
She ran her hand through his hair, and he closed his eyes, rumbling with pleasure at her touch. She would never get used to this, never take it for granted. “You’re tired, sugar. You sleep now.” She didn’t entirely trust herself still, but he made no argument as she pulled her gloves back on, wrapping herself fully in the sheet before lying back down. He pulled her back into the warmth of his body, and she felt him bury his face in her hair, sighing softly in appreciation, his fingers lacing through hers as they both slid into sleep.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
A few warnings. This chapter is as smutty as the day is long. It is also as long as the day is long. As hard as it is for me to write smut, somehow when I do it manages to just go on and on, in this case for 3000 words. Not even counting all the smuttiness in the last chapter. So, if you are anti-smut, feel free to skim along. If you are pro-smut, please reward me with a review.
It also might get a little bit weird at the end. Nothing majorly kinky, but the characters did surprise me a little. Someone on fanfiction.net said she loved my stories, but could I please write something with a little BDSM in it, and also could I make it about Snape and Hermione? She might be half happy with this one. ;-)
It also might get a little bit weird at the end. Nothing majorly kinky, but the characters did surprise me a little. Someone on fanfiction.net said she loved my stories, but could I please write something with a little BDSM in it, and also could I make it about Snape and Hermione? She might be half happy with this one. ;-)
Chapter End Notes:
Please review! :-D