After making her rounds and ensuring all the students were asleep in their beds, Anna made her way to the front porch and looked down the three mile drive to the country road that ran long the estate, seeing, hearing and smelling nothing of concern.
Assured of the students’ safety, she let her guard down and sat down on one of the many steps that led into the new academy, resting her head against a wooden pillar. She thought of the discussion she had with the professor earlier, the responsibility she now bore on her shoulders for the young children inside, and she felt much older than her twenty-seven years. She was afraid for the future, the need for her new school proof enough that a war was coming.
“Anna.”
She gasped, claws coming to the surface of her skin, strumming with the want to break free. Flexing her fingers, she stood up and smiled welcomingly when she saw Scott stepping out onto the large porch, his tall, strong frame backlit by the outdoor lamps.
“Sorry,” he told her with an apologetic smile, eyes hidden behind his ever present visor, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Scott was wearing light linen slacks and a matching buttoned shirt that hung attractively on his muscled and tanned body. His hair fell in soft waves across his face to the nape of his neck, and it made him look younger, less rigid than he usually appeared. He ran his fingers through the golden brown strands and she wondered if they were as soft as they looked. He was holding something behind his back and although she could detect its scent, she feigned surprise when he revealed the fully blossomed magnolia. She took it from him, her sweet smile widening at his gesture.
Moonlight shone through her thin white cotton dress, silhouetting her body through the diaphanous material and a powerful shudder of want went through him. Hearing his thoughts, she stepped towards him, placing the white flower behind her ear, its fleshy petals highlighting the single white band of hair that escaped the tightly wound bun the rest of her hair was in. She stopped short of touching him.
“Thank you.” She looked at him expectantly as the delicate scent of the magnolia surrounded them.
His eyes remained on hers and Scott knew they were green, but because of his visor, all he could determine were that they were clear colored, and bright. “You’re welcome,” he told her, hands clenched into fists by his sides, determined to deny what his body raged at him to do.
Anna inhaled the powerful scent of his arousal and the feral inside her stirred in appreciation of the strong, attractive male in front of her. Her eyes darkened, feeling a rush of energy course through her and her eyes flicked upwards, catching his. “What color are your eyes?” she asked him, her voice low.
He swallowed before answering. “They’re brown”
“Brown,” she echoed softly, bringing her mouth close to his, “I have always wondered. You look like you want to kiss me.” Her eyes went to his mouth and then returned to where she knew his eyes were behind the red lenses. “Do you, Scott?” she asked him in a whisper, her breath soft against his lips, “Do you want to kiss me?”
Moments passed and neither of them moved. Scott seemed to struggle with something deep within him, the muscles across his shoulders flexing, tense. She was reacting physically to the signals he was sending but it was for him act on it, not her, and when he did nothing, she pulled back, disappointed.
Scott did not crush her against him like his instincts demanded, he didn’t capture her mouth like the starving man he was. He didn’t run his hands over her luscious body, and take hold of the woman who invaded his dreams for far too long. No, Scott Summers did none of those things. Instead, his lips were soft, featherlike, barely taking hold of hers in the gentlest of kisses, their warmth barely making an imprint on her lips stronger than the force of his breath. His lips tugged softly at hers, not plundering the depths of her mouth like she anticipated he would, like the others before him who wanted her just as desperately. She was experiencing a kiss with no more strength than a butterfly’s wing and when she felt him move away, her eyes remained closed, her breath caught in her throat, entranced.
“Anna?”
His voice was thick with repressed desire and she opened eyes to look at him, stunned. Scott kissed me. His face solemn, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, ending with a finger tracing her lips. “You’re beautiful, Anna Marie,” he told her simply, “So beautiful.”
Anna couldn’t remember being treated so delicately, or kissed so tenderly. Every man who claimed her lips with their own always did so with a fierce passion, almost attacking her with their want, their desire for her. She remembered Remy, after his initial kiss, had almost devoured her with his need and no one ever matched the ravenous hunger he had shown her, his kiss the only one she could recall with vicious clarity.
But he wasn’t here. Scott was. Handsome, strong, sweet Scott.
Anna felt the protective walls around her heart tremble in response. Standing up on her toes, she wove her fingers through his hair and it was as soft and as silky as she imagined. She took in a shaky breath before brushing her lips against his with as much care as he did hers, never taking full possession of his mouth and yet kissing every dip and curve as she tasted him. He didn’t make a move, allowing her the slow exploration, hands remaining by his sides and when she broke her kiss, he caught his breath at the sight of her exquisite eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re the one,” she corrected him, “who’s beautiful, Scott Summers.”
He pulled her into his arms then, pressing her small body against his much larger one, resting his chin on the top of her head that now lay against his chest. Her arms were warm around his waist, and he felt each ragged breath she took. Holding her gently, but strongly, he promised as a light breeze caressed the embracing couple, “I’ll never hurt you, Anna.”
She closed her eyes, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart, and believed him.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000