Her scent was easy to detect. He stepped through the front entrance, and followed it up the wide staircase. He frowned – a trace of it would have led him to Scott’s room if not for the stronger, newer scent that went down the opposite hallway, leading directly to his room.
Logan stood in front of the doors, hesitant, afraid. Everything that mattered in his world was on the other side. He had to fix this. He had to fix her. Logan knew he fucked up, fucked up real bad. For all his promises to protect her, he had failed, again, and again, damaging the one thing in his life that had been perfect and pure. Knowing that she would never love him again was ripping him apart, but he could never stop loving her. He was prepared to accept whatever meager scraps she might be willing to throw him so he could stay in her life, be near her. He wouldn’t run away. Not anymore.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the doors to his future.
She was curled up in the arm chair beside the bed, head resting on her arm, feet tucked underneath her. Her face was tear-streaked and sad, even in her sleep. His heart twisted. He took off his shoes; the blisters caused by his run healed over, and tore off his bloodied socks before pulling out the belt from the waist of his black trousers. He removed his jacket, and loosened his tie, throwing them both onto the dresser at the far side of the room. He had just removed the cufflinks from his dress shirt when she shifted in the chair, at first trying to get more comfortable, but then waking completely when she realized he was there.
“Hi darlin’.” He approached her and bent his knees so he was squatting directly in front of her.
She blinked a few times, frowned, then sat up, legs still underneath her. She remained silent and simply looked at him. He tilted his head, watching emotions chase themselves across her face, placing his hands on either side of the chair. She looked towards the French doors, with a faraway look in her shimmering green eyes, shoulders straight and head held high. Her body was tense, still dressed in her gold gown, her hair pulled tightly away from her face in that high ponytail. Logan bit down the growl that began to form in his throat, smelling Scott all over her, but he didn’t make a sound, waiting.
He listened to the frantic beating of her heart, the irregular pattern of her breathing, her throat working, coiled tight to hold back the sob he knew was there. He waited. Her chin trembled and the liquid sheen in her eyes transformed into tears that fell along a previously established path down her cheeks. She gasped out the sob that successfully fought its way out of her, taking with it the air that kept her upright. She collapsed against him, resting her head on his shoulder as her arms snaked around his neck, crying softly.
He closed his eyes, and pulled her completely onto his lap. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, holding her tight when she buried her nose into the valley where his neck and shoulder met, her body convulsing from the strength of her sobs. He swallowed hard, resting his chin on the top of her head, his shirt soaked through by her tears. Marie needed him, she needed the friend he used to be, and he would be that again. For her.
“You hurt me, Logan. You hurt me somethin’ fierce.”
He flinched, the rawness of her pain slicing through him. He caressed her back comfortingly, and drew in a deep breath, both of them rising as his chest expanded from his air-filled lungs. His voice was thick with self-condemnation. “Tell me what you need, Marie. Tell me and it’s as good as done.”
She took a few moments, soothed by the familiar feel of his strong arms holding her so close against him, the thick muscles of his thighs easily supporting her weight, rock solid beneath her. She pulled away and stood up in one fluid movement, looking piercingly into his eyes. He kept them on her as he stood up as well, towering over her, afraid now, afraid she was going to send him away.
“Ah need to finish what we started, Logan.”
His nostrils flared. Scott’s scent on her was the strongest it’s ever been, but Logan refused to give into the Wolverine who demanded that he replace it with his own. Looking down at her, Logan knew he should insist she go back to sleep, that she needed the clear light of day to bring the night’s events into focus. But that look on her face, whatever it was, told him to keep the words unspoken. She wanted this. And god help him, Logan was going to give Marie exactly what she wanted.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he reached up and unclasped the golden band that trapped her hair high atop her head. Almost with a sigh, the strands fell down, over her shoulders and down her back, like a dark pool of silk into his hands. He ran his fingers through her long hair, the scent of peaches filling the air from its release. His hands untied the band that held the gown tight across her hips before slipping his fingers underneath the twin swaths of material that covered her chest. Slowly, his fingers slid upwards, touching her stomach and ribcage lightly, and she held her breath as they feathered along the sides of her breasts, stopping at her collarbone.
His eyes trapped hers as he hooked his thumbs under the pearl clasps, sliding them off her shoulders and down her arms, the pads of his fingers tips soft against the surface of her skin. With a sharp tug, the gown fell to the ground at her feet and she closed her eyes, her almost nude body igniting as the cool air of the room bathed over her.
Logan cupped her face into his hands and kissed her forehead where her platinum streak began. She felt his breath move across her face as he kissed her eyebrows and eyelids, softly and lingeringly, hearing the rush of blood flowing through his veins - pushing, retreating - with every beat of his strong heart. He kissed her cheekbones, nose, jaw and chin, his eyes pouring over her face, watching her, alert to her cues, prepared to stop, praying she wouldn’t ask him to. Encouraged by her continued silence, he bent his head and left a trail of kisses along her neck to her shoulder, retracing it across to her other shoulder, unrushed and savoring the creamy taste of her. He curled his fingers around her wrists and placed them on his shoulders, kissing the entire length of her arms, reclaiming her mouth instantly with his when she curled her fingers into his hair to press her lips against his.
He knelt before her, his hands sliding down her back, kissing her ribcage and opening his mouth wider; biting into the dip of her waist, making her gasp from the erotic jolt of pleasure it gave her. He kissed the soft swell of her stomach and dipped his tongue into the indent of her belly button before licking upwards between her breasts to her throat, standing tall in front of her again.
“Look at me, Marie.” Her eyelids fluttered open at his whispered command. He placed her hand over his heart and held her close, the feel of his starched shirt and its buttons pressing into her sensitive skin. Their hearts began to beat together in tandem and their eyes locked, listening to the familiar sound.
One of them, maybe both of them, kissed the other, their kiss tender, gentle, and explorative, every crevice rediscovered, their tongues dancing with a generous give and take. When they came up for air, Logan grabbed handfuls of her hair, nuzzling his face into it, relishing its silky softness, knowing he could never, ever, get enough of his Marie. She ran her fingers up his chest and began to unbutton his shirt, one by one, and he waited until she was done, continuing to breathe in the scent of her glorious hair, holding back, not wanting to make a mistake, needing to show her that she was in control.
She peeled the shirt off his body, dropping it on the floor beside them, caressing every curve and muscle she exposed. Every part of him was the same, every line, every dip and curve of his powerful chest and shoulders and arms, his waist still as narrow, his flat stomach as taut as she remembered. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her small soft hands running over his skin, denying the Wolverine hollering deep within him that he take her. Tonight was about what Marie wanted. It was the only thing that mattered.
He grabbed her hips and spun her around, his hands reaching up to cup her breasts. She melted against him as his thumbs grazed over their puckered tips, throwing her head back against his corded shoulder, her hands resting on his forearms. He kissed the back of her neck, licking across the soft angles of her shoulder blades and down her spine, ignoring the feral in him becoming louder, more insistent, smelling her sweet, delicious aroma. His hands slid over the soft swells of her bottom, down the back of her thighs, to behind her knees and calves, kissing the curve of her hips and flattening his tongue into the indents he found there. She pulled him up, unable to stand under her own power any longer, so he stood up and wrapped her long legs around his waist, his hands roaming over her before curling into her hair at the base of her skull to bring her panting mouth back to his.
He walked over to the bed, not breaking her kiss, receptive as she moved her luscious lips over his, her tongue darting out to lick his before dipping deep into his hot mouth. He laid her down on the bed and waited for her to come up for air before moving his mouth back down her body, his hands running down her outer legs as she spread them apart to hold him in place between them. He held each breast gently in his hands, slanting his mouth over them, leaving no part of them un-tasted, sucking and biting, rolling their tightened peaks in between his teeth, her moans and gasps sweet sounds of reward to his ears.
His mouth released a reddened nipple and he raised himself up to look at her, half convinced this was another one of his fantasies of making love to his beautiful Marie. Seeing her lying beneath him, her hair splayed out about her golden skin like an earthbound Venus made Logan’s heart skip a beat and he stared at her, amazed.
The look on his face, so tender and full of wonder made tears well up in Marie’s eyes. His finger caught the first tear, then rubbed away another, a small frown pulling down his lips. His eyes followed the last escaped tear, and just as it was about to disappear across her temple into her hair, he caught it with his lips, whispering in her ear, “I love you, Anna Marie D’Ancanto.”
Her brilliant emerald eyes shot to his blazing hazel and his love for her crashed through him with an incredible force. “I always have darlin’,” he told her simply. “I always will. Forever.”
A torrent of tears slipped silently down her cheeks at his admission and he kissed them all away, the salty taste of them burning his lips. He hugged her tight against him, wishing for the millionth time that he could go back in time and erase all the pain he caused her, knowing he could never make it up to her, but determined to try anyway.
She kissed him again but Logan took control of this kiss, and she allowed him, succumbing to his strength and experience. She pulled his pants down over his hips and he kicked free of them, followed by his boxers. He reached down between her legs, under the silk band of her panties, delving his finger into the hot, moist core of her. She moved underneath him, sucking in his breath with her sharply indrawn gasp at the intimate contact. Logan needed more, his entire body was wound tight from the strain of rejecting the feral within him, but he still managed to hold back, swirling his fingers around the swollen nub he found there, pulling, pinching, pressing, until she was trembling beneath him.
He ripped away the flimsy material of her panties and lifted his hips to resettle between her legs, hard and throbbing against her, bearing his weight on the forearms he placed either side of her face. Logan caught her spike of fear and asked if she was sure; if she wanted this, wanted him. She whispered into his ear that she was sure, that she did want this, and him, very, very much. She closed her eyes when she felt him position himself above her, and braced herself.
“No.”
Her body stiffened and he was quick to assuage her terror. “I need you to see me when I’m inside you, Marie. I need you to see only me.” Scott’s scent was still there, on his Marie, a penance he knew he deserved, but he needed for her witness their first time, needed for her to know that it was him that was loving her, and not the others before him.
She spread her legs wider in response, keeping her eyes on him, biting her lower lip when he began to slip into her. Her breathing became shallow; her entire body trembling uncontrollably, feeling the sheer size of him begin to enter her. A growl finally tore from Logan’s throat, every sense alert to the submissive female beneath him and digging his hands underneath her, he pressed the small of her back upwards as he drove powerfully into her.
Intense pain shot through her, sharp and stunning, and she instinctively pushed at his shoulders to escape his deep impalement of her. Logan stilled with shock.
Marie was a virgin.
She buried her face into his neck, her fresh tears hot and wet against his scorching skin. He kissed her forehead, cursing himself, her once pliant body now tense beneath him. His face tightened with remorse, angry with himself for causing her pain, searching her eyes for forgiveness. “I’m so sorry, darlin’. I didn’t know, and I hurt you.”
“Yours,” she whispered, interrupting his apology, wiping away her tears as she lost herself in the warm sunset of his eyes.
Logan was a simple man. Always considered what was his, to be his. But something he never experienced before grabbed a hold deep inside of him, and it washed over him, wiping away everything in its path, taking with it all the suffering, guilt, fear and loneliness that had shackled him his whole life. The unexpected absolution made his throat constrict painfully.
“No, Marie,” he corrected her, his voice rough with emotion, overwhelmed by the truth. “I’m yours. I belong to you.”
She tenderly kissed his eyelashes, seeing the moisture of his unshed tears shimmering there. When he opened his eyes, he saw the forgiveness in hers.
She had accessed his memories. She knew everything.
Marie touched her forehead to his, and rested her hand lightly on his chest overtop where his heart lay. She placed her other hand over hers, softly confessing, “Ah love you, James Logan Howlett. Ah always have, sugah. Ah always will. Forever.”
Logan choked back a sob, kissing her, inhaling her, tasting and breathing in the very essence of her. He hadn’t lost her. He hadn’t lost his precious Marie.
The pain was beginning to subside, her healing factor thankfully kicking in as she accommodated the size of him, big and hard inside her. She shifted and he groaned when she thrust her hips upward tentatively, a growing, unfamiliar primal need beginning to well up inside of her. He could smell the metallic tint of her blood and his face reflected his concern.
“Darlin’, I don’t know how hurt you are.”
Tilting her hips again, she determined that the movement felt, very, very good. She admitted to him with a shy smile, “Ah’m not hurting now, Logan.”
Whatever else she wanted to say was forgotten when he pulled out and eased back into her experimentally. “Oh my god,” she gasped, grabbing his shoulders and digging in her nails. “That feels amazing!”
Logan grinned and moved again, slipping almost completely out of her before easing himself fully back in, slowly, so that she could become accustomed to his size. He sucked in his breath at the feel of her, so wet, and hot and so very, very tight. He reveled in the smell of her virginal blood and he reached down to smear it over her belly, the Wolverine growling in approval at the sight of the scarlet slashes against her abdomen.
His fingers took hold of her again, his fingers tracing and pressing small, slow circles against the tiny engorged bud of flesh, as he repeatedly buried himself deep inside her.
Marie began to breathe heavily. The combination of him inside her, stretching and filling her while his nimble fingers manipulated her, was driving her wild. Logan was trying to hold back, intent on being gentle to make up for hurting her, but she clenched around him in frustration, milking him each time he withdrew, making him shudder from the torturous restraint.
She nipped his lips with her own, breathing in his moans, before whimpering into his mouth, “Logan, Ah don’t know exactly how this works, but goddamn it sugah, you better put out this fire in me awful quick.”
The Wolverine took over.
Holding her behind her knees, he began slamming into her, his hips rocking powerfully against her. She called out to him, begging him to not stop, not really knowing why and when she began to shake, Logan pumped into her even faster, his breath hot in her ear, encouraging her, telling her how sexy and beautiful she was, how much he loved her, how good she made him feel. Taking in the gorgeous sight of her trembling body as he pounded into her, he demanded gruffly, “Say my name, darlin’. Say my name.”
She stabbed her nails deep into his back as ecstasy took a hold of her entire being, screaming his name, sobbing it, as she clung to him, sure that her body was exploding into a million sparks. Exquisite pleasure crashed over her, her limbs heavy as her blood thickened and flowed languidly through her veins as wave, after acutely enjoyable wave, crashed over her, leaving her weak and spent in the protective circle of her lover’s embrace.
Logan grabbed her hair and exposed her throat, breaking the delicate skin with his canines, sinking his teeth into her as his powerful body shook violently with his own release. He crushed her to him, every muscle straining as she claimed him, and he roared; his lips curling back to expose red stained teeth. She kissed him, tasting her blood in his mouth, and she purred, letting him know that she liked it, shivering when his hands caressed her now overly sensitive skin.
He was careful not to crush her under his weight, breathing through the delicious aftershocks that rolled over him, knowing with grateful clarity, that this was what happiness felt like.
“Yours,” Logan reminded her, nuzzling her ear with his nose.
Smiling, Marie scraped his mutton chops gently with her nails. “Mine.”
And they spent the rest of the night, proving it.
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