Marie sat on the hard bench that surrounded the border of the fountain, ignoring the ever increasing cold radiating out from the frozen stones that worked its way through the tight, too-thin fabric of her jeans to soak into the muscles of her legs. There was a certain calm she felt as the temperature of her legs continued to decrease. Maybe if she continued to sit here, they’d go numb.
She looked up and squinted as she was nearly blinded by the diffused, yet bright light of the early afternoon sun that hid behind ever darkening clouds in the sky above her. There’ll be snow soon, she thought, and shivered as a blast of icy wind picked up her hair to swirl it around her face. She turned her attention back to the fountain and saw a thin translucent layer of ice crusted over the top of the water, clinging to the small green plants that struggled to grow in the cold winter air. Suddenly feeling a misplaced wave of pity for the plants, she stuck one bare hand through the thin ice and let thoughts of fire flow through her. While she didn’t project any flames, the water slowly warmed from the heat emanating from her hand and the ice dissolved. Satisfied, she removed her hand, shaking the now pleasantly warm droplets from her fingertips, watching the ripples they caused on the surface of the fountain as they plunked delicately back into the water. Rivulets of steam rose from the fountain and a ghost of a smile formed at one edge of her mouth before she came back to herself. She shouldn’t have been able to warm the water. Shouldn’t have done it. She needed to fix her mistake. She tried to force back the panic that threatened to rise up and overwhelm her. It was a black abyss that threatened her momentary calm. She could feel its hungry edges nipping at her mind, waiting for the right moment to envelop her in its dark crushing depths. She’d been fighting it for months with varying degrees of success. But now, she wondered what would happen if she left it crash down on her.
One shaking hand outstretched, she channeled Bobby’s power and tried to focus on letting a small amount trickle through her to reform the fragile layer of ice that had been floating on the water’s surface. Instead, a blast of power encircled her and the entire fountain became encased in a thick layer of crystal clear ice. She jerked back her hand at the potent rush of force that had run through her and sat motionless, breathing hard with fear. The black edges of the wave pulsed hungrily in her mind.
Her fear compromised her control. The Professor had told her that during her excruciatingly slow and painful mental rehabilitation following the aftermath of the X-Men’s trip to Stryker’s residence. After her suppressor chip had been surgically removed, with help from the Professor they had identified at least twenty absorptions she’d acquired in the lab. That meant twenty personalities in her head. Twenty new powers to control. Twenty different sets of memories. She had spent hour after brutal hour practicing overcoming her panic at being in control of that many abilities, of that many people. Drenched in sweat and muscles trembling from exhaustion, she’d fought day after day to regain control of her mind, body, and power. Today was a day where she felt she’d made no progress. Though in reality she was leagues away from where she started after regaining consciousness, it didn’t feel like it.
Marie tried to slow her breathing, which had become quick and shallow as she felt the icy thrill of fear snake down from her head, down her chest, and into her stomach where it settled like a lead weight. She took several deep, calming breaths in through her nose, and after several minutes she felt her heart rate resume a normal, if slightly increased tempo.
“I think you mighta overdone it there.”
She tensed immediately at the sound of the voice. Marie was startled by the sound of the words that came from behind her, but she didn’t need to turn around to know it was Logan who spoke. Any other time, she might have heard his approach. But she’d been too busy involved in her own thoughts and fear to have noticed him. Maybe she would have been able to smell him too, if he hadn’t been upwind of her. In the three months since she’d been back at the mansion, she’d had very little contact with Logan. She’d been purposely avoiding him, and given the fact that he’d sought her out, she was pretty sure he’d had just about enough of it.
“What do you want, Logan?” Marie asked, staring determinedly into the ice-encrusted fountain. She couldn’t look him in the eyes without feeling an overwhelming wave of guilt and shame. During her rehabilitation, she’d had more than enough time to recall with disturbing clarity, her actions in the lab and behavior after she’d left with Magneto. It didn’t matter that she’d been unable to prevent herself from believing the false memories embedded in her mind, or from obeying the orders she’d been programmed to follow. She’d hurt him. In so many ways. She’d betrayed him. Tortured his body, played with his mind. And still, he’d come for her. That made it worse somehow. Why hadn’t he just given up on her? Said, “Fuck that,” and moved on with his life.
It made what they had shared before the lab seem like someone’s cruel idea of a joke. The fact that her mind had been manipulated, now forced her to think of her betrayal every time she looked at Logan. And she didn’t know how to reconcile the way she’d felt about him before the lab, with what she’d done to him afterward. She’d had a brief moment, a ridiculously brief moment of happiness with Logan. She’d felt at home with him, safe and loved in his arms, for a few hours. She had believed they might have a future together, that they would tackle the challenges of the world together. It had never occurred to her that the future she’d glimpsed so briefly would be taken away from her before she had a chance to realize its potential.
“Thought I’d see if you wanted to talk,” Logan said quietly, his eyes taking in the slight tremble of her shoulders. The temperature was in the mid-twenties, and she was wearing a dark pair of body hugging jeans, some scuffed hi-top brown leather hiking boots, and a faded gray sweatshirt that had seen better days. Her hair was loose around her face, the deep brown and white strands falling in relaxed waves to her shoulder blades. She looked beautiful, and fragile, and lost. It took half his concentration to prevent himself from tearing across the courtyard to wrap her in his arms. He knew she’d bolt if he made such a bold move toward her.
Marie scoffed. “Talk. Huh. What would you like to talk about, Logan? The weather?” She paused and tilted her head up to look at the sky. “Looks like it’s gonna snow soon.”
Logan clenched his jaw at her jaded response. “I don’t give two shits about the weather, Marie. We need to talk about what happened to you.” We need to talk about us, he almost added. But he was worried that she’d run away if he pressed her.
“I don’t think so,” she replied quietly, resuming her study of the icy fountain. “There’s really nothing to talk about.”
“Yes there is, dammit,” Logan growled back, his temper suddenly flaring at her lack of emotion. “Listen to me. Stryker used you. Magneto used you. I get it. You’re not the only one who’s been jerked around. It breaks you, makes you feel like shit, makes you doubt everything about your own self and what you thought you knew. Trust me. I know. But you should know this. You have to know this; it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
If she had any reaction to his confession, she didn’t show it. She was as stiff as ever on the stone bench. “Maybe that’s the only thing my bein’ a mutant is good for. To be used. To be somebody else’s pawn. Maybe it’s too much power for one person. Maybe I shouldn’t even have it.”
Wolverine growled at this, and his anger spilled over into Logan’s voice as he responded. “Don’t say that, Marie. You’re good for a hell of a lot of things.” He could feel his heart rate increasing with fear. He was losing her. But he didn’t know what to say to her to make her understand that what had happened to her, what she had done, didn’t matter one fucking bit to him. He just wanted her. All of her. “You’re good for me,” he said with a low growl.
She gave a short bitter laugh and shook her head as she stood up from the bench surrounding the fountain. “You know, it’s ironic that after what Stryker did to me, I finally have full control over my power. I can call on the abilities of anyone I’ve ever absorbed. It’s like the implant showed me how to use a muscle I never knew I had.” Marie held her right palm up where a ball of flame engulfed her hand. She uncurled the fingers of her left hand and a small sphere of ice grew from its center. She stared into the flicker and flare of the flame for a moment then flung both hands violently toward the ground where the ice shattered and the fire was extinguished as it bounced along the cobblestones of the courtyard.
Marie turned back to face him, her brown eyes startlingly empty. The first delicate flakes of snow had begun to fall. Logan had time to see the tiny crystals landed in her hair where they were frozen for a moment until they dissolved with the heat of her body.
“I’m not good for anyone. Leave me alone, Logan. Don’t come looking for me again.” And she turned back toward the mansion, leaving Logan staring after her, his chest ripped open, his heart lying unnoticed on the cold hard ground.
____________
Marie was sure of her decision. She’d only needed to see Logan one more time to know for sure; she had no future here. It was time to go. She had headed up to her room after her encounter with Logan by the fountain that afternoon and packed up her things. Maybe she was taking the coward’s way out. Hell, maybe she was a coward. But she couldn’t stand to be here, surrounded by these people who had cared for her, had saved her, couldn’t pretend to be happy and move on when she couldn’t. Not without being with Logan. And she couldn’t bear to have him look at her. That’s when she knew she had to go. She would not spend another seven years ignoring her feelings for him. She loved him and it ripped her up inside that she’d betrayed him.
She waited until the mansion had quieted, until there would be little chance of her being discovered as she sneaked out of the house like a guilty teenager, a few belongings stuffed into her old green bag. A part of her felt guilty for leaving without saying goodbye; she knew Kitty would be furious with her for sneaking out without so much as a word. But she couldn’t bear to have that discussion with her friends. She knew they’d want her to stay, but Marie knew she couldn’t, not with the way she felt about Logan. Marie didn’t know exactly where she was going, only that she needed to be far away from here. Alone. It was better that way.
She quietly closed the door to the garage behind her and flipped on the light switch just inside the door, brushing off the snow from her coat as she entered the slightly warmer interior. The snow had begun falling in earnest just past sunset, and there was an impressive ten inches on the ground so far. She moved down the rows of cars, thinking about where she might go and which vehicle might be best for getting her there. Maybe something with four-wheel drive to get through the snow. She was sure the Professor would understand her borrowing one of the cars. She wasn’t so sure Scott would feel the same way if she dared to take one of his.
“What the hell are you doin’, kid?”
Once again she had been caught unawares. The words, which had come from a darkened corner to her left startled her, and her duffel bag slid off her shoulder to the floor of the garage with a muffled thump as she jumped and struggled to calm her racing heartbeat.
“I told you not to come looking for me, Logan,” Marie said, avoiding his eyes as she bent over to pick up her battered green bag. She chose to ignore the return of her nickname on his lips. She was more furious with herself for not paying more attention to her surroundings.
“Who says I was lookin’ for you? Maybe I was just down here in the garage workin’ on my bike.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed him lounging casually against the hood of Scott’s Mazda, no tools or greasy rags in hand. She shook her head, disbelieving. “At two in the morning?”
He lifted one eyebrow and gave her an accusatory look. “You out here ‘cause you had a sudden hankering for a late night drive?”
“I don’t see that it’s any of your business what I’m doing,” she said as she quickly glanced at him then turned her head toward the box mounted on the side of the garage wall which contained the vehicle keys. But before she’d had time to decide which SUV she’d be taking, he’d pushed away from the hood of the car, stalked over to her in four long strides, torn the duffel bag from her hands, and had grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Dammit, Marie. Would you look at me?” Desperation and frustration made his voice hoarse, and Logan redoubled his efforts to restrain the tenuous hold he had on the Wolverine. He was pacing angrily, fear at losing his mate driving him wild.
“How can you want me to look at you?” She asked, her voice high with tension. “Don’t you feel disgusted by me after what I did to you?”
“Darlin’, it wasn’t you,” he said in a somewhat softer tone, urging her to meet his eyes with her own.
“But it was, Logan! How can you look at me? How can you want me?” She broke off on a sob and turning, wrestled herself out of his grip and turned her back to him. “I’m broken, Logan. I’m not like you. I’m not going to heal.” How could she make him understand that she didn’t know how to forgive herself? That without forgiveness, she would never be able to get past what had happened to her and all she had done.
Logan felt the slow burn of a knife slicing into his heart at her words. His fists were clenched at his sides, the burn of his claws itching between his knuckles, desperate to act for her, to fight for her. He could smell the salt of her tears on the cold, slightly stagnant and mechanical air of the garage. He didn’t know how else to reach her. How to show her that what had happened to her didn’t matter to him. He, of all people, understood how she felt. Violated. Out of control. Used. Hell, he didn’t want her to end up like him. Bitter. Alone. He wanted to help her get past the horrors of Stryker’s lab. He wanted her with him.
“Like hell,” he growled, his anger rising at her acceptance of her fate. He noted with approval the stiffening of her shoulders at his words. Maybe she wasn’t beyond caring just yet.
“What?” She asked softly, still not turning to face him.
“I said, like fucking hell.” And he grabbed her by the arm, wrenched her around to face him, and kissed her. He poured everything he had into his kiss; his desperation at losing her, his joy at being near her, the warmth and comfort she brought to him, his passion for her. He ground his mouth over hers and urged her mouth to open underneath the press of his tongue. He felt her shudder and he wound one hand into her hair, desperate to reach her, desperate to make her understand that he needed and wanted her.
Through the pleasant shock of his lips against hers, and the realization that he still wanted her, the black wave of fear threatened to crash down on Marie as panic, unbidden and unwanted, ripped through her at his closeness. She flailed about wildly in her mind for the right thread, the right power to cling to, to help her escape the fear. Without a conscious thought, she grabbed at the nearest one she could find. With a jolt, she felt a brief moment of pressing darkness, a moment of not being able to draw breath. The moment had passed almost as quickly as it had descended upon her and Marie found that Logan’s arms were still clasped firmly on her upper arms, his lips pressed tight against hers. He tore away from her, and stepped back, his claws releasing with a metallic snick as he looked around to get his bearings. He was breathing hard, turning around in circles until he recognized their surroundings. Slowly retracting his claws, he turned toward her.
Marie had transported them to her abandoned bedroom in the mansion. She hadn’t been certain of what would happen when she grabbed hold of this particular thread, it was one she hadn’t used before. But apparently she had grappled onto an ability that allowed her to teleport.
Marie’s breath was ragged, her panic coming off her in waves. It set Logan’s nerves on edge, made the Wolverine within snarl with frustration.
“Well. That’s new,” she said finally after several tense moments of Logan staring at her.
“What the fuck,” Logan said. “What the fuck! Jesus, Marie.”
“I panicked,” she said defensively.
“You were trying to leave me,” he ground out through gritted teeth.
Logan felt his feelings of fear and anger coalesce until he was shaking with his emotions. He tried to keep a leash on the beast, but it was no use. Wolverine was pissed as hell and there was nothing Logan could do to prevent him from stopping his fucking mate from leaving them. The animal burst forward with a surge of anger and Wolverine shook his head and released his claws. The time had come to claim her, to bind her to him, once and for all. He would not accept her fear of him any longer.
“What,” he growled, his voice deeper than she was used to hearing, “Will it take for you to understand? You are mine.” He circled her, his eyes flashing with the bright light of the moon that shone in through the uncovered windows of her room.
She felt momentarily trapped, but her need for punishment and forgiveness suddenly rose up and overrode all other thoughts, all other emotions. “Forgive me,” she whispered, feeling shame at even evoking the words out loud. Then a rush of relief as she expressed, finally, what she needed. “God. Please. Forgive me, Logan. Forgive me!” she cried as she dropped to her knees and buried her face in her hands. She collapsed on herself with the outpouring of emotion, as she repeated, sobbing, “Forgive me, forgive me.” Her soul seemed to be leeching out of her eyes, her tears obstructing her vision as she waited for judgment.
After several moments, her sobs quieted and he crouched down in front of her. After sheathing the claws of one hand he reached out to gently cup her jaw, her tears dampening his palm. He raised her head so that he could look at her.
Slowly, she raised her swollen eyes to meet his. With a start, she realized it was Wolverine whose golden eyes gazed back at her. The beast was in control.
“The man has already forgiven you,” he growled. “But he doesn’t know how to make you understand. He needs you. I need you.”
“Wolverine,” she said, shakily.
A fierce, feral expression crossed his face, and he closed his eyes briefly, as if taking pleasure in her saying his name.
“What about you, Wolverine? Do you forgive me?” Marie asked, her voice hoarse with shed tears.
He paused for a moment, as if trying to determine exactly what to say. “I will not lie to you. Your mating with Sabertooth enraged me. It hurt me more deeply than I can possibly say to see you writhing with him,” He growled.
Marie felt his words pierce her chest and she closed her eyes tight against the pain of his confession.
“Open your eyes, mate,” his deep voice rumbled close against her ear. Haltingly, painfully, she opened her eyes again. His golden eyes were directly in front of hers. “What happened was not your doing. And it was not your fault. I know that you would never willingly hurt or betray me.”
The relief of hearing his words washed over her and she sobbed again, though this time in sheer joy as the oppressive weight of guilt seemed to lift from her at last. The energy she was using to hold herself upright abruptly left her body and she started to fall forward. Wolverine’s arms caught her against him and he inhaled deeply as he leaned forward into her hair.
“You can’t abandon me. You can’t abandon us. We will come for you. Always.” Wolverine’s rage had quickly dissipated, transforming first to relief that she was not leaving him, then to a furious burning lust at her scent, the closeness of her body.
She turned into his shoulder and took a slow deep breath through her nose. His familiar scent of woods and leather washed over her, calming her deep inside. She rubbed her cheek against his muscled shoulder and felt the heat of his body radiating through his worn leather jacket. She realized she needed to feel him against her. To feel his muscled form moving against her and in her, erasing the touch of Creed from her mind and body. Making her his.
“Do you want me to mark you?” his voice was thick with lust and he asked the question as his face was buried in her hair, his hands beginning to work their way to the fastening of the heavy wool coat she still wore. She felt an unexpected bolt of desire shoot through her at his words and she heard him growl as he smelled the change in her scent. It was exactly what she needed; to know that she truly belonged to him. She wanted to see him, smell him, and feel him all over her.
“Oh, God. Wolverine,” she moaned, her voice husky with her sudden longing. “Yes. Touch me.”
He needed no further encouragement, but hoisted her up with him so he was standing above her and tore her coat from her shoulders. Her sweater and t-shirt soon followed until she was clad only in her bra, jeans, and boots. Her own hands slid up under the layers of clothes he wore to feel the warmth of his skin against her fingertips, and she stroked the hard planes of his stomach with both hands. He rumbled deep in his chest at her touch. She needed to see more of him, so she tore off his leather jacket and the flannel he wore beneath until his skin was covered only with his sleeveless white undershirt. Her hands rose up to feel the strength of his shoulders, pleased with the feeling of iron hard muscles beneath the warmth of his skin. And she looked up at him, willing him to touch her.
He obliged the longing in her eyes and drove his face into the soft skin above her collar bone and growled, his deep chest vibrating against her own. “Mine,” he growled again, a hint of violence edging his words. “You are mine. Your body belongs to me.” He rasped his cheek against her neck and bent his head to bite down hard at the junction of neck and shoulder.
She jumped as she felt his teeth close down on her soft flesh. A tingle of pain rode through her shoulder along with the sense of being marked. A hot jolt of arousal ran through her, low in her belly and she moaned at the primitive feeling of him against her. Her head fell back and he growled at the movement, signaling his approval of her submission to him. His teeth remained clasped to the skin of her neck, and then she felt the warm wetness of his tongue begin to taste her. His hands were at her hips, rocking her against the hard ridge of his erection beneath his jeans causing a spiraling heat to pulse out from her center with each brush of contact. A desperate feeling began to build inside her. Arousal, yes. But it was coupled with another sensation; a frenzy of blinding need for possession. A need to both be possessed and mark his soul with her own.
He released his mouth from her shoulder with a swift motion and before she had a chance to breathe he gripped her around the waist and carried her over to the sturdy wooden desk that stood on the opposite side of her room. He released the claws of one hand, and eyes wild, cut her bra away from her skin. She didn’t flinch at his action, she knew he would never hurt her. She was surprised though, when he moved to unbuckle his belt and grasped her wrists with one of his hands. She looked up questioningly at the fierce expression on his face. His golden eyes met hers before she darted her eyes toward his mouth. The corner of one lip curled upward and she felt again a primeval sense of raw animal hunger emanating from him.
He used the soft worn leather of his belt to bind her hands together behind her back. The action thrust her breasts forward and he took advantage of the movement, leaning forward to capture one hardened nipple in his mouth. She moaned as his tongue rasped over the raised peak and she involuntarily jerked her hips where he held them pinned against the smooth wood surface of the desk. The warm, sweet, and earthy scent of her desire rose up and he inhaled, greedily. She was no longer afraid of him, despite his possession of her. She had submitted herself to him and trusted him to submit himself to her. In turn. She was the only one he would allow to dominate him, but first she was his to possess.
He continued his assault on her nipples, teasing and tasting with his tongue, and threads of sensation linked to her center and caused a pulsing aching sensation deep inside. He raised his head from her nipples after rubbing the coarse hair of his unshaven face along both breasts, the raspy hairs stinging slightly and leaving reddened flesh in his wake. He then lifted her, effortlessly, and turned her over so her chest and stomach were pressed against the surface of the polished wooden desk, legs hanging over the side where her boots rested on the floor. Her heart beat increased with anticipation as she felt him nudge her legs apart with one muscled thigh from behind her. She felt the warmth of him against her back as he leaned over her and reached underneath her belly and undid the fastenings of her jeans. He slid one hand down the flat smooth plane of her belly beneath the fabric of her loosened pants and brushed his fingers through the dark curls at the apex of her thighs. She could feel her slick moisture that soaked into the curls and he growled as his fingers found her and released a fresh wave of her scent. She tried to arch her hips against his hand, guiding his finger to play against the pulsing of her clit, but he held her locked in place by the weight of his body and she was unable to move.
“Please,” she found herself moaning, desperate for him to ease the pain of her throbbing in some small way. Hands bound, his weight behind her, she had no recourse, other than to plead with him to help assuage the ache that he’d started deep within her. He leaned back and removed his hand from between her legs and she groaned in frustration at his absence.
“Please, what?” he rumbled back at her, his voice thick with his need for her.
Marie felt his calloused hands move down her sides toward the loose waist of her jeans and froze, her breath caught in her chest as he slid them down her legs, exposing her to him. He rolled her pants to her ankles and nudged her knees apart again so that he was standing in between her legs. She heard the metallic clicking of his zipper being dragged down, the sound of his clothes being discarded, and waited.
“You didn’t answer me,” he growled. And he reached out with one hand to stroke over the bare curves of her buttock and down the back of her thigh. She felt her skin erupt with gooseflesh and she shuddered with the sensation, her cheek resting against the warming surface of the wood. She was at his mercy and she felt the thrill of it spark through her.
“I need you,” she answered and blew out a harsh breath fluttering her hair away from her eyes as one of his hands reached between her legs and cupped her sex.
“You need me to do what?” His breathing had become slightly ragged with his efforts to restrain himself from taking her too soon. He wanted her to admit what she wanted from him.
“I need you inside me,” she ground out, her breathing just as rough as his own.
He felt the curve of a smile on his face as he stroked one finger through her slick folds and she bucked against his hand. “Inside you, doing what?”
A frustrated groan tore from her chest and she cried out as he flicked her clit once.
“Fucking me!”
At her words, Wolverine could restrain himself no longer. He guided himself into her warm wet sex from behind, one hand planted on her back.
Marie groaned again as she felt, finally, his hard fullness settling inside her. She was tight and slick against him, and she tried to adjust her hips allowing him deeper. He stilled her movements with a slight pressure from the hand on her back and she ceased moving at once. The ache he’d started within her was pulsing deep and hot, poised to explode.
“Marie.” And he moved within her. A single slow, deep stroke. She felt the walls of her center clench and pulse against the motion. “Look at me.”
As difficult as it was, Marie slowly turned her head back toward Wolverine and opened her eyes. She gasped at the intensity within them and then moaned as he moved within her, deeply. Punishing and possessing her. Reminding her that she was his, and his alone. Erasing the mark of any other from her body.
“Rogue,” he growled as he thrust in again, filling her with an impossible fullness. And an answering wildness rose up within her as he called her to him.
“There will never be another,” he ground out as he began to increase the pace of his thrusts.
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation.
“Say it!”
“Never another. Only you.”
In one swift motion, he released her hands from the leather binding of his belt. He thrust again, this time allowing her hips to move against his and he growled with the pleasure her movements caused. He was spiraling out of control, lost in her scent, in her body. Sweat began to bead where their bodies met and the smell of sex filled the air of her bedroom. The mansion was quiet around them and the sound of their moans, and bodies moving against each other seemed impossibly loud in the deep quiet of the night.
“More,” she groaned as he continued to move with deep strokes igniting a blinding sensation of pleasure. He left her abruptly and she hitched her breath at the loss. But it was only so he could wrench off her boots and remove her pants from her ankles. He turned her in his arms so they were facing each other, faces flushed, bodies completely bare. He took in her appearance with satisfaction. Breasts flushed, the mark she bore at her shoulder, mussed hair, eyes darkened with desire. She scooted to the edge of the desk and reached for him. He gathered her by the waist and she wrapped her legs around his hips, guiding him inside her once more. They both groaned as he slid deep into her wet heat. He turned and pressed her back against the wall, bracing one hand above her, the other hand supporting her buttock, rocking himself into her over and over.
Her eyes met his again and she felt the steady pulsing pleasure coiling deep inside her, deepening with each thrust, each movement of his hardness. She tensed her inner walls as her climax crashed into her, and her hips jerked uncontrollably in his hands, opening herself up to him further. She threw her head back into the wall as she came and cried out with the force of her release. He clenched his jaw as Marie clamped down on him and he felt his own climax slam into him. Pleasure spiraled deep in his cock and he pumped his hips hard against her slickness and felt the pulsing of his seed pump deep inside her, roaring as he claimed her.
For several moments, nothing but the ragged sound of their breaths sounded in the room. Finally, heart beats returning to a more steady rhythm, he slowly withdrew himself from her, and she moaned as the movement caused several small aftershocks of pleasure to flicker inside. He moved them away from the wall and to her bed, where he jerked back the sheets and gathered her close to him against his chest.
“Mine,” he said quietly.
Marie let out a deep breath of satisfaction as she felt the warmth of Wolverine envelop her, the steady rise and fall of his chest against her back. He’d helped her find her way back to herself, and she slept, comforted, content for the first time in months.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
I didn’t want to do another “Rogue-works-with-the-Professor-to-regain-control-of-her-mind” story, so prepare for a bit of a time-jump and a bit of angst as our two characters start to work things out between them.
Fair warning: some light bondage may or may not be present in this chapter along with some mild dominant and submissive themes.
Fair warning: some light bondage may or may not be present in this chapter along with some mild dominant and submissive themes.
Chapter End Notes:
Logically, Marie understood that what she did to Logan/Wolverine in the lab wasn’t her fault. But having the forgiveness of Logan/Wolverine seemed the best way to help her start to get past what she was forced to do. Plus, it gave me an excuse to add some nice smut back into the story.
I think just one more chapter to go before the end. Thanks as always, for your reviews!
I think just one more chapter to go before the end. Thanks as always, for your reviews!