The improved eyesight was great, she had no complaints there, but the other two were something else entirely. This was unlike the time she touched Logan to save her life five years ago, or the time he touched her at the Statue of Liberty shortly afterwards. His mutation had been more like a fading shadow, only lasting a few days. Now it was infused in her, and getting stronger.
Every day she wandered about the school, familiarizing herself with various scents and sounds, trying to acclimatize to her new heightened senses. She hadn’t realized how much cologne and perfume the students wore, let alone the stench in the gym area after the kids completed their combat classes. It wasn’t so much that she couldn’t stand the smell of the students and staff’s bodies, each had a distinct smell, like a finger print. It was the artificial scents she found hard to stomach, whereas anything natural was, for lack of a better word, agreeable. So she changed her deodorant to an antiperspirant, and reluctantly let go of the scented bath oils that she used to enjoy so much. She stuck with her usual organic shampoo, conditioner and bath soap, having changed over to the non cloying products long ago.
How did the Wolverine stand it?
Now she understood why he felt compelled to leave the school so often to run through the woods that surrounded the property. She could now appreciate how the scents and sounds of the mansion could be overpowering, and why he preferred to be alone. It took her a while to stop jumping at the slightest sound, everything sounding like it was happening right by her ear. She felt guilty when she unintentionally eavesdropped on the students’ private conversations, and her ears burned with the personal information that she unwillingly gathered.
Adolescent boys in particular were a curious bunch.
However, with practice, she learned to focus on generic, harmless sounds, like the wind or music when these intimate conversations inevitably reached her ears. Turned out Professor’s Ethics class did have a purpose after all.
But nighttime was when Rogue really struggled. If she was lucky enough to fall asleep in the first place, the smallest noise would wake her up, making her instantly alert, making it almost impossible for her to fall back asleep as harsh adrenaline pumped through her veins. Instead of Logan’s nightmares keeping her up at night, it was the world around her that made her toss and turn, her body tense, her fight reflex always engaged. Sleeping with music on low didn’t help because she strained subconsciously to hear every word of every song, and white noise and ear plugs made her anxious, her need to be aware of her surroundings trumping the dull monotone they provided.
Sleeping pills had no effect on her whatsoever, and getting her hands the required amount to defeat her developing healing factor would not go unnoticed by Dr. McCoy.
Rogue was tired.
Very, very, tired.
Tonight was a particularly bad night. She didn’t bother trying to fall back asleep, she learned that once she was awake, that was it. Glancing at the alarm back beside her, she groaned in frustration.
4:17am.
She lay there for a while, using her acute eyesight to pick out patterns on the room’s ceiling above her. Then her ears perked up, distinguishing the sound of staggering footsteps making their way up the staircase of the teacher’s wing. She recognized the heavy 300 lb plus gait of Logan, and his scent wafted to her, confirming it. The scent of alcohol did as well.
She got out of bed and slowly opened her bedroom door. She saw his shadow round the corner of the landing above her floor and she made a decision. Before she could think twice about it, she made her way quickly up the stairs and saw him enter his room. Taking a steadying breath, she tucked her hair behind her ears nervously.
Now or never, she told herself.
She could hear him move about the room as she pressed her ear against his door. Her eyebrows knitted together when the movements stopped.
Suddenly the door swung open and she fell inside, no longer having the solid wood of the door to support her. Sprawled unceremoniously on the floor, she looked up in surprise and saw Logan standing over her, his face in shadows looking down at her. He wasn’t in a very good mood.
So much for hoping the booze would help.
“There a reason yer stalking me, kid?” he demanded, not moving an inch to help her off the ground.
Getting up with little grace, she retorted, “Ah’m not stalking you.”
His eyes slowly took in her state of dress, or undress, making their way down her torso, focusing on her pert full breasts presently covered only by a green camisole. He took in the matching colored loose pajama bottoms that hung low on her hips, resting just below the soft swell of her belly. His eyes jerked back to her breasts and narrowed appreciatively, their shape easily identifiable through the flimsy material. Rogue placed her arms across her chest, embarrassed. In her haste to catch him, she failed to cover herself up, only grabbing her arms length opera gloves at the last moment by her door as a matter of habit. She quickly pulled them on, turning her back to him.
“Ah’m here because you're hiding from me. So we’re going to talk.”
“I don't do 'hiding'. It’s late. Get out.”
Her ears burned in anger. Closing the door behind her, she swung around to face him. “Ah want to talk now.”
Once again his eyes shifted down her body. The smell coming off him was strong and her eyes widened in recognition. She smelled it enough times on Remy when they were together.
The Wolverine wanted her.
She caught her breath. Remy’s scent was very nice and she definitely enjoyed it. But this scent coming off Logan was irresistible. She felt herself react to it, and goose bumps exploded across her skin. If her senses were heightened before, they were supercharged now.
Rogue became very aware of the man in the shadows before her. Very aware of the expansive width of his shoulders underneath his black t-shirt, her eyes riveted to the chiseled chest that tapered to a lean waist, straight hips, and long, powerful legs encased in tight blue jeans.
And Rogue was very, very aware of the growing evidence of his reaction to her. A low growl escaped the back of her throat involuntarily, and the direction of her gaze was clear. His sharply drawn breath made her eyes jump back to his. And what she saw in them made her take a step back.
Too quick for her to react, he had lifted her clear off her feet, the wall of his room slamming into her back. He was too close. She closed her eyes and instinctively inhaled deeply, wanting more of his scent, mesmerized by its effect on her.
He wanted her. Logan wanted her.
His hands gripped her upper arms and he shook her violently, forcing her eyes to reopen. “What are ya doing Rogue?” he demanded. “Why are you actin’ like this?”
Her breathing was hard and fast, and she was excruciatingly aware of her breasts pressed up against him. Her nipples puckered in response and he let out a strangled groan as he felt their tightened buds through both their clothes.
“You need to leave kid.” He let her go and stepped away.
Rogue was overwhelmed by what was happening to her, her entire body trembling. All she knew was that she wanted - needed - to touch him. Her eyes burned hungrily and her voice was barely recognizable to her own ears.
“Ah want you Logan.”
“No.” His voice was gruff.
She shivered in response, and stepped towards him. “Yes.”
His kept his arms by his sides, his hands gripped into tight fists.
Feeling a confidence she never experienced before, she closed the distance between them. He stood firm, his eyes burning. She raised her hand and placed it gently on his shoulder. She slid it down his arm, enjoying the feel of the enormous muscles despite her glove, slowly making her way back up his sculpted chest. She placed her other hand on his waist, fingers splayed out as they dipped up and down across his well defined stomach. She was in a trance; the only thought in her mind was that she needed to claim this male.
Suddenly she was spun around, her back against him, his breathing harsh in her ear. She could feel him, hard and thick, and instinctually she pushed back against him. He gasped, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her head back painfully. They were breathing hard and fast in tandem now and she waited in anticipation, waiting for him to respond. He growled again, a rumble that came from deep inside him. Keeping his hands on her hips, he thrust against her, making her well aware of the full extent of his arousal. She raised both her arms and tangled her fingers into his hair, feeling the molten heat at the apex of her thighs. She wanted his touch there.
With a whimper, she begged him, “Touch me Logan.”
He bunched up the material covering her hips in his fists. Turning her back around to face him, he cupped her bottom in his hands and lifted her off the ground, unerringly pressing against her hot core, their clothing the only barrier. She nearly screamed from the sensations that burst through her, barely aware that he placed her roughly onto his bed. She wrapped her long legs around him, and gripped his shoulders, wantonly rubbing against him. She needed this male deep, deep inside her.
His large hands cupped her breasts and squeezed them, twirling her pebbled nipples between his fingers through the thin fabric. His took one breast hungrily into his mouth, sucking hard, wetting the cotton, attacking the other with the same intensity. Watching him, she arched beneath him, on fire, her gloved fingers running through his hair.
Logan felt lost, the scent and feel of her sending him to the precipice of where Logan stopped and Wolverine began. Her need for him was primal and raw. Marie was in his bed, her delicious body under him, opened to him, his for the taking. The smell of her, the feel of her, was driving him mad. The sounds coming out of her were so like him, the wild look in her eyes so familiar…
His body stilled.
It took Rogue a few moments to realize that he stopped moving. Breathing heavily, she looked up at him bewildered, panting hard. His body was tense; every muscle straining from the effort to not move. A heartbeat passed and he abruptly untangled her from him, getting off the bed. He walked to the window at the far end of the room. Keeping his back to her, he ran his fingers through his hair agitatedly, the muscles on his back rippling from the movement.
Rogue sat up, confused, feeling bereft from the loss of his heat. She rubbed her arms, suddenly very cold.
“What did I do to you?” His voice was a whisper.
Rogue felt fear dig into her stomach. She didn’t understand. Moments earlier he wanted her. Now he was looking at her like a man condemned.
“You’re feral now, aren’t you!” He roared the question at her and she winced. He grabbed a chair and threw it violently across the room, its wooden frame splintering on impact against the wall.
Afraid, she crossed her legs and hugged them to her. “Please Logan, you’re scaring me.”
He couldn’t trust himself to come near her. Anger he could hang on to, anger could stop him from touching her, claiming her.
“When were you going to tell me? “ His stopped yelling, but she could see the glint of his metal blades on the surface of his fists.
Eyes widening, she stammered, “Ah didn’t know how to tell you. It’s like my skin. I can’t control it. Ah thought it would go away, but it’s not. It’s getting stronger." Tears began to fall down her face. "Ah don’t know how to shut it off. ”
His anger died away the instant he smelled her tears. He went to her, snatching the bed sheet and wrapping her in it. He sat down beside her. “It’s okay, Marie. It’s okay.”
She cried hard as she leaned into him, pressing her face against his shoulder. He waited for her sobs to subside before gently asking, “Have you told Chuck? Maybe he can help you control it, like ya do Carol’s.”
She shook her head. “He’s tried.” Her thick eyelashes were spiked with tears. “But nothing’s worked. It’s becoming a part of me.”
Logan tried to get her words to sink in.
Rogue was feral. It explained her behavior over the last month, why he couldn’t catch up with her when she avoided him, her quick reflexes and ferocity, her temper.
It explained what had just happened between them.
Placing his chin on top of her head, her hair an effective barrier between them, he told her carefully, “There are things that are, difficult, when yer feral.” Her face flushed hotly.
She jumped up. “Ah have to go.”
She dropped the bed sheet, and quickly approached the bedroom door, almost tripping in her desperation to get away. He easily caught up with her and stopped her from leaving by placing his hand on hers when she grabbed the door handle.
“You didn’t know what you were doing,” he told her softly. “I took advantage of you. I’m sorry kid.”
She looked down at her bare feet. But Ah did know. Ah knew exactly what Ah was doing.
She willed herself to look back at him, searching his face for any sign of the man who had wanted her earlier. But all she saw was concern. “Ah just need some time to get used to,” she faltered but managed to say before her throat closed up, “this.”
He nodded, and released her hand, letting her open the door. He watched her until she disappeared into the staircase at the end of the hallway. Once he heard the soft click of her bedroom door closing behind her, he stepped back into his room and leaned against the door, closing his eyes.
The Wolverine was stunned.
She set him on fire so quickly, so easily. The Rogue had awakened the feral beast in him instantly.
Marie.
Her ambrosial scent clung to him. He inhaled it deeply into his lungs, like a man addicted.