Rogue opened her eyes and blinked several times at the upside down sofa directly in her line of vision.
She waited, thinking he was teasing her - a variation of a stop and go to draw the pleasure out - but when she felt the heat of his mouth disappear, her legs dropping down without the aid of his broad shoulders to hold them up anymore, she realized that he stopped.
Completely.
Logan watched the muscles of her stomach bunch together tightly as she awkwardly brought herself back up into a sitting position, bracing herself with her arms to stay upright. He stood up, face expressionless, and crossed his large arms over his chest.
“Are you for real?” Her voice didn't sound right. Rogue cleared her throat, and tried again. “You can’t stop now. Ah’m not there yet.”
There went that damn eyebrow. “You’re not where, yet?”
“You know. There. Ah need more.” She closed her legs, a soft moan escaping her from the slight pressure it gave. “You stopped too soon.”
Logan shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry. Tongue got tired.”
She paused. “Use your fingers.”
He lifted them from where they were resting on his biceps. “They’re kind of tired too.” He looked as surprised as her.
She stared at him. Realization dawned in her eyes and they caught fire. “You bastard.”
Logan’s face hardened. He could do this. Just a few minutes, to get his point across, to teach her a lesson. Okay, a minute. He could last a minute. That should be enough punishment.
He shifted in his too tight jeans.
Make that seconds.
Logan watched as Rogue pulled down the straps of her camisole, exposing her breasts to pinch their hardened tips between her fingers, keeping her eyes on his. His mouth dropped open in shock when she released one to push a hand under the band of her panties, closing her eyes as she reopened her legs, her fingers sliding between them.
Hearing his sharp intake of breath, she reminded him, “Ah don’t need you, Wolverine.” She slipped a finger into herself, then another, and released a pleasure-filled groan as she plunged them deep inside her, her thumb pressing down on her throbbing centre.
The scent of his anger hit her harder than the scent of his heightened arousal. Suddenly, her underwear was ripped away in one, vicious movement and eyes shooting open, she felt a tickle of fear at the sight of his face, darkened with lust and fury. He removed her hand and gripped it painfully in his.
“You do need me.”
Her mouth became very dry. With a low growl, he slipped his gloved finger inside her and her eyes widened, the digit thicker and longer that her two combined, stretching and filling her. She tightened around it, her hips tilting to push more into her, leaning back to give him better access. He curled it forward, making her shiver powerfully.
She held his hand in place.
“You’re going to finish this, right?” She didn’t trust him.
He gave her a snarl for an answer and pressed his thumb against her in hard tight circles. She threw her head back, a long drawn out groan coming out of her as he pumped his finger inside her, twisting it on the way in, withdrawing it slowly on the way out. His free hand curled around her throat, his thumb ghosting over the blue vein pumping hard along it, before sliding along her collarbone to cup a heavy breast into his palm. Rogue braced her arms behind her, trembling now, and when she felt a harsh rush of intense pleasure push through her, she cried out, spreading her arms out to collapse back onto the counter. Her head fell over the edge again and she ran her hands overtop her quivering breasts, grabbing at them and pulling her nipples as aftershocks of her orgasm chased over her entire body.
“Hot damn.”
She smiled. He sounded impressed with himself. A surprised gasp escaped her when he dug an arm under her waist to pull her up.
“You are the sexiest woman I have ever fucking seen,” he told her honestly, bringing her closer to him, cupping both breasts with his hands and running his thumbs overtop them. God, how he missed them. She draped her arms around his shoulders, careful to avoid his bare neck.
“That’s no way to talk to a lady, sugah,” she admonished him, sighing in pleasure when he rolled the pebbled tips of her nipples between his fingers.
Logan unzipped his jeans and pulled himself out. “Darlin’, I don’t want no lady.” Looking down at him, her tart response died on her lips.
He was huge.
“Ah don’t think Ah can handle that.” The size of him guaranteed it was going to hurt, whether she was a virgin or not. She watched as he began to stroke himself, and she promptly forgot how to breathe. He became impossibly bigger.
With his free hand, Logan pulled out a small square packet from his back pocket and brought it to his mouth to bite off the corner to expose the condom he quickly rolled on. Almost impatiently, he grabbed her hand and curled her fingers around him, hissing at the contact. When her small fingers failed to encircle him completely, Logan grabbed her other hand to wrap around him as well.
His hand tightened over hers. “Be careful not to go all the way down. I couldn’t find condoms big enough to fit.”
Omigod.
Tentatively, Rogue began to stroke him, fascinated by the size and feel of him despite the thin layer of latex. Moaning, he dropped his head forward to watch, the sight of her bare hands around him making him swell even larger, spreading her fingers even more apart. Thinking she did something wrong, she loosened her hold and Logan quickly put his hand overtop hers again with a strangled gasp.
“No,” he bit out, his jaw clenched. “Tighter, darlin’. Hold me tighter. And go faster.”
Oh.
She did as he told her and he growled, placing his arms on the counter for support, the tense muscles rippling on either side of her. She liked having the powerful and strong Wolverine vulnerable and dependant on her. She liked it a lot. Rogue slowed down to find out just how much power she had and he growled.
“Don’t. Stop.” He was breathing heavier now and his hips pushed forward in frustration. He wasn’t begging but she knew he was getting angry. Rogue realized that she liked that too. Deciding she would explore that another time, she resumed her stroking.
“That’s it, sugah,” she whispered near his ear, encouraging him as she picked up the pace, pumping him harder and faster now. She loved how he was shaking, loved the sounds that originated deep in his chest and escaped through his throat. “You’re going to come for me, Wolverine. All of you. For me.”
And he did, loudly swearing out his pleasure, thrusting desperately into her palms, holding her hands because she had become dangerously close to the base of him where his skin was exposed. Logan buried his face in her hair, the heat coming off him adding to hers, utterly spent and startled from the force of his release.
It took him a couple of minutes to recover and she didn’t move, enjoying the smell of him, of her, scenting the air. With a final shiver that ran across his shoulders and down his arms, he let go of her hands and discarded the condom in the bin under the sink. With a grin, he bent down to pick up her pajama bottoms and she put them on, hopping off the counter to pull them over her hips.
“That,” she told him with a grin of her own, “was a lot of fun.”
Logan laughed, tucking her torn panties into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled up the straps of her camisole back onto her shoulders and took her into his arms. “I agree, darlin’.”
“Looks like Ah’m past my hang up of being touched.”
He looked at her, confused. “What hang up?”
Rogue shrugged negligently. “It doesn’t matter. It’s fixed now.” Distracted, she placed her hands on his pectorals, giving them an experimental squeeze. Yep. No give at all. They were like rock.
Logan pulled back to look at her. “What’s fixed now?”
Seeing he was curious, she replied, “For some reason Ah couldn’t stay turned on when someone touched me. You’ve just proven that Ah can, thank god. Ah was getting worried.” Rogue moved into his arms again, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Someone’s tried to touch you?”
Rogue was surprised at the tone of his voice. He sounded angry. She looked up at him, confused. “Yeah, someone’s ‘tried’ to touch me. So?”
His eyes became so dark, they were almost black. “No one can touch you.”
She stared at him.
“If anyone touches you, I will kill them. Do you understand, Marie? I will kill them.” His threat was ugly, making his face twist with it and she pushed him away from her, annoyed.
“You’re acting like Ah’m your property or something.” She glared at him. “And my name is Rogue.”
He grabbed her face with his hand. “Obey me on this. No one touches you. Ever.”
“Obey you?” Anger was beginning to build inside of her and she slapped his hand away. “Ah will touch whoever Ah want, when Ah want, how Ah want. You don’t own me.” She brushed past him to leave but suddenly she found herself slammed up against the wall, his harsh breathing hot on her face.
The memory of a feral male’s scent came crashing over him. It was so powerful, so vivid, that he could almost smell it. That other feral's scent that had been on her.
His mate.
White hot rage lashed through him and Logan felt himself slip perilously close into a berserker rage. Rogue was aware something was wrong. The growl that had begun in his chest had become much louder, his scent much stronger, wrapping itself around her. It was more potent than she ever smelled it being and seeing the split in his irises, she realized the feral in him had taken over.
Time passed. He lowered his head and sniffed the base of her throat, his growl consistent, menacing. Rogue was terrified he was going to touch her bare skin, her fear of getting a double dose of his mutation making her stay very still. Her behavior seemed to make him angrier and he lifted his head to look into her eyes. “He touched you.”
She shook her head, thinking he meant Remy. “He tried. He stopped.” She winced when his growl turned into a roar.
“I smelled him on you!” His hands ran over her, fingers digging possessively into her skin, pressing and kneading her flesh. Not knowing what to do, Rogue grabbed his hands, forcing him to stop.
“You smelled Remy?”
He grabbed her hair, snapping her head back painfully. “I am going to kill him.”
“But nothing happened between us.” Rogue’s fear grew. He seemed to be getting worse. “Ah swear.”
“He tried to mark you.”
Mark her? Remy never tried to mark her. “You’re talking about someone else, aren’t you?”
His growl took on an even more murderous timber.
“You have to tell me who you’re talking about. Who tried to mark me?” She was so confused. Rogue didn’t understand what was happening.
Logan closed his eyes and she watched carefully as he slowly regained control, his grip on her hair loosening, his breath becoming deep and steady again. Finally, he stepped away from her, his entire body trembling with restraint as he ran his hands agitatedly through his hair.
“I mean it, Marie. I’m gonna find him. And when I do, I’m gonna kill him.” His voice stayed hard. His eyes were hazel again, but they were still flaring dangerously, his fury barely contained.
She brought her hands down to her sides, hating that she didn’t have her gloves on. “Ah don’t know who you’re talking about.”
He turned away from her abruptly and pulled the chair away from the door, opening it wide. Logan felt like he was suffocating.
“Did he fuck you, Marie?”
Her back went up. Now he was pissing her off.
Narrowing her eyes, she replied, “Maybe if you gave me his name, Ah can check it against the list.”
Logan moved to grab her again, another roar escaping him, but she was ready this time and jumped back, putting enough distance between them. Stalking her around the island counter, he spat out, “I smelled him on you the night you were rescued. Who was he, Marie? What does he mean to you?”
“Ah don’t know who you’re talking about!” She was getting frustrated. “There wasn’t anyone there when Ah woke up in my old room that night. Ask the professor, he had access to my thoughts at the time. Ask him if someone ‘touched’ me.”
She was telling the truth. She didn’t remember. But the scent of another alpha male had definitely been on her and this alpha had wanted his mate. And there was something peculiar about this scent. Something familiar.
“Wolverine?”
She pulled him out of his thoughts. The steel in his voice matched his eyes. “No one can touch you, Marie.”
Animal barely on a leash or not, Rogue had it.
“Listen to me good, Wolverine. You’re obviously going through some kind of feral-man-scent thing right now and you have my sympathy because Ah’ve learned there’s some downsides to your mutation. Remy did mention some nonsense about you marking me.” She shook her hair off her face and placed her hands haughtily on her hips. “But that shit doesn’t fly with me. So stop this whole, ‘me Tarzan you Jane’ crap. This woman doesn’t get off on it.”
She moved to leave and again, Logan reached over the counter to stop her. Rogue snatched away the hand he tried to grab and pulled it back into a fist, dropping into a fighting stance. She was more than willing to take him on.
Logan dropped his hands and kept them by his sides. “Just remember what I said, Marie.”
Rogue rolled her eyes derisively. This whole machismo act was getting old. Unimpressed, she straightened up and walked out the door, shooting over her shoulder, “Because you marked me, right? Give me a break, Wolfman. You just remember that my name is Rogue.”
Logan didn’t try to stop her. He stood there and listened to her bare feet making contact with wooden stairs, making her way up to the third floor until the sound of her bedroom door opening and closing drifted back down to him.
To him, it was an audible reminder of the growing barrier between them.
You’re wrong Marie. It’s not because I marked you. It’s because you marked me.
Logan closed his eyes. He needed to get her memories back.
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