A deep rumble in her ear. The feeling of warm bunched muscles pressing her knees up and legs apart, forcing her into a willing and pleasurable submission. The wild, dark, and primal scent of a man’s mark on her body. Between her thighs. On her belly. Inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” Rogue moaned, feeling Logan’s tongue rove smoothly over her. She gripped the sheets in her fists and shoved her heels into the mattress as a white hot flicker of pleasure spiked through her. She was lost to the sensual haze she had surrendered to. And she didn’t care. It felt good. It felt right. It felt like coming home.
Logan’s mouth was between her legs lapping at her sore and over-sensitized folds, cleaning her, soothing her, tasting her. The thought of him taking her essence, his mark, and the mixture of both of them into his mouth sent a warm lightning bolt of fresh desire straight through down to her belly. She flexed her thighs in longing at the gush of renewed wetness, slippery and warm, that trickled out of her and shuddered as sheer need for him rode through her again.
She could feel him smile against her in approval of her reaction to his ministrations as he licked the fresh desire from between her legs. He then let out a chuff of air cautioning her to remain still. But she couldn’t help the bucking of her hips against his mouth as he slowly drove one finger inside of her, the smooth full friction causing her hips to buck wildly. He slowly slicked his fingers in her several times, and she threw her head back and drove her hips up to meet his thrusts as a wild keening cry left her lips.
Rogue felt him remove his fingers from her and slide his body up against hers. She groaned as the fullness inside left her and the empty throbbing of her womb was all that remained.
“Taste,” he demanded of her. His voice was low and dark with a hint of a growl. The idea of denying him never crossed her mind. She opened her mouth eagerly, enjoying the feeling of his warm and slick fingers entering her mouth and tasting the combination of the two of them, nearly as much as the feeling of the dark and wild part of herself rearing up and sinking down over her. It settled like a blanket in her mind. Warm, comforting, and truer than anything she’d known about herself before.
Rogue sat up and wrapped her tongue around his finger, sucking hard as she looked into his flashing golden eyes. The taste of the salt and sweet brine of her arousal mixed with the musky dark salt of his seed coated her tongue, and she felt her mind wrapping itself tighter in the blanket of wildness that his presence inspired in her. She licked his finger clean and smiled at the raw look he was giving her.
Apparently, her smile was all the impetus he needed. He shoved her back down onto her left side and twisted himself behind her so that his body was tight against every inch of her skin. He reached down to raise one of her legs up at the knee, and he slowly, excruciatingly, entered her from behind. The exquisite fullness of him stretched her gently, and she moaned with the feelings of pleasure and fulfillment coursing through her.
Logan brushed the scruff of his beard against her bare shoulder, and her body shivered with the slight sting of it. She didn’t have to wait long for him to ease the discomfort though, and threw her head back against his as moved his lips against her shoulder. Kissing. Nibbling. Tasting. And then biting. Jesus. The feeling of his teeth against her skin just fucking did something to her. It was passion. Wild and unencumbered by rules or order. And goddammit. she fucking loved it. The pain of the bite was soothed by his tongue and his hips thrust slowly in time to the movements of his mouth. Rogue reached back and grabbed one firm buttock and tried to urge him to increase his pace, wanting that moment of exquisite pleasure so badly it almost hurt. She felt him smile against her back as he continued the slow and deep pumping of his cock inside her.
“Dammit, Logan,” she groaned. “Move faster!”
“No,” he growled in response.
That one word was full of power and authority. And it pissed her off as much as it turned her on. Her walls involuntarily clenched around him and he rumbled with pleasure. She tried to increase the rocking of her hips, but he merely pressed her knee tighter into her chest and slowed his pistoning.
“No,” he said again. “Slow.” He nearly withdrew himself entirely from between her legs and she groaned as the pulsing beat of pleasure increased with the cessation of movement.
“Smooth.” And he slowly, so fucking slowly, eased himself forward, his cock sliding easily to the hilt inside of her, the slickness of their combined arousal easing his way. He moved that way, hips rocking bath and forth, for several minutes, the fissions of smooth sensation building with every stroke. Rogue gripped the pillow at her head and gritted her teeth against the pleasure building inside. Not yet. Not yet…
“Hard,” he growled roughly as he slid out and then rammed himself so hard inside her that her entire body jolted with the impact. The smooth and concussive thudding of his thrusts were causing a coiling tightness to build inside her. The throbbing and pulsing thrill of pleasure was growing, threatening to consume her entire body in a blinding explosion. She wanted to give in to it. And she wanted to stay balanced on the precipice of something that almost frightened her with its intensity. Rogue slowly became aware of the low growl that was issuing from her throat. And she didn’t care. She didn’t care that she sounded wild. She felt wild. She was wild.
“And deep.” The last word was uttered through his bared teeth as he continued the slow, smooth movements that reached all the way to her womb. Each stroke that pressed inside her spun the coil of pleasure tighter and tighter, and she whimpered as she felt him shove into her again as the world finally yet suddenly exploded inside her. The agony of pleasure burst through her body causing her to shake with the intensity of her orgasm. Her walls clamped down on his cock as he continued that same damn maddening pace. He roared in her ear as his own orgasm overtook him, and she felt the hot pulsing of his release spurt deep inside her.
He didn’t withdraw from her afterward, and she felt the ghosts of his pleasure pulse along with her own heartbeat. As the intensity of the moment subsided somewhat, she shoved back the sudden surge of guilt and awareness that rose up. She refused to feel guilty about enjoying herself with Logan. And the rest, well, the rest could wait.
She smiled to herself as he slowly released her knee and occupied his hand with her breast instead as they fell into a contented doze.
“Logan, I need to tell you something.”
Rogue’s tone was serious, and Logan found himself struggling to pay full attention to her. His face was buried in between her thighs, and he was drunk on the taste of her. They’d been held up in his room for the last half a day, at least. Pausing only occasionally to eat, they’d continuously gorged themselves on the others’ body; learning, tasting, and touching. It was as close to a divine experience as Logan could imagine, and he was loathe to burst the pleasurable bubble they had wrapped themselves in. He lapped at her again, determined to remain cocooned in the warm pleasure of her body where the realities of the outside world could not reach them.
“Remy -” she hesitated, and Logan froze at the sound of the fucker’s name falling from her lips. He couldn’t help the growl that issued from his chest and he moved away from her, suddenly one-hundred percent sober, the world outside his bedroom returning with a ferocity that pissed him off. Surely she wasn’t about to tell him she regretted her actions. Her body couldn’t lie to him, and he’d be able to sniff out any hint of falsity in her words. So far, every action and word she’d expressed had been completely truthful. She wanted him. So why the fuck was she bringing up the Cajun?
“What?” He snapped at her, more harshly than he’d intended to. He instantly regretted his tone as she visibly flinched and sat up, arms folded across the fullness of her naked breasts.
Rogue took a deep breath and used one hand to finger the tangled mess of brown hair out of her face. “He and Creed. They needed me to confirm for somethin’ for them.”
A bad feeling was growing in the pit of Logan’s stomach. He wasn’t going to like whatever she said next. He knew it.
“The whole time I was there, they kept tryin’ to make me tell them who I was.” She paused and looked up at him. “Where I came from.”
“Fuck,” he growled as he left the bed. He stood at the foot, looking down at her, his mind beginning to churn over what she had just said. There were disturbing implications to The Brotherhood knowing how Rogue had appeared in this world. The Cajun and his crew knowing about the existence of a mutant who was capable of creating doorways to other dimensions couldn’t lead to anything good. “How did they know?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But I didn’t tell them anything. No matter what they did to me.” And she shuddered again, though this time in remembered horror, rather than pleasure.
Logan felt like the world’s biggest dick. He’d been selfishly enjoying the sudden change in their relationship, so fuckin’ victorious that she’d wanted him, that he had forced the realities of her week of hell to the back of his mind. He remembered suddenly they needed to talk about what had happened to her and felt a surge of dark guilt. Fuckin’ animal. One hint that she’d wanted him and he’d let go of every shred of discipline that held him on this side of humanity. Just for a chance to taste her, feel her skin against the rough pads of his palms, fuckin’ drown himself in her scent.
“But then Logan, the last day.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “They made me - I couldn’t help it.”
Logan felt the rage of Wolverine pulse out hotly in his mind, his imagination in overdrive as he envisioned what Creed and LeBeau had forced Rogue to do. How they’d hurt her. The memory of her condition when he’d found her came flooding back and he struggled to rein in the sheer rage of the animal inside him. He clenched his fists, forcing back the desire of the animal to rip, to kill. To bury its claws in the warm innards of the assholes who had threatened her safety.
“Sabretooth had Rift. He was gonna hurt him. And he’s just a kid.”
Logan knew she wouldn’t have been able to stand being the reason that an innocent was harmed. It just wasn’t in her nature, no matter which goddamn dimension she’d come from.
“But they played me, Logan.” She stood up from the bed then and began pacing back and forth, from the side of the bed to the far wall.
He didn’t like seein’ her so worried. It made the beast twitchy, anxious for a fight or for a chance to comfort her by slidin’ deep inside her, and makin’ her forget all about what was bothering her.
“It wasn’t Rift. It was Raven.” Rogue had stopped pacing and had stopped by the window, looking out over the mountains covered in early morning sunlight.
“Mystique.” He spat out the word, as though it had left a bad taste in his mouth.
She nodded. “I don’t know why they needed me to tell them what Rift could do. I don’t. But I know I don’t like it.”
Logan agreed and frowned as he turned over the implications of The Brotherhood using Mystique for their deception. Either they hadn’t wanted to hurt the real Rift, or they didn’t have him. Neither possibility sat well with him. It left the animal feeling edgy. Restless. Knowing somethin’ bad could be comin’ for them. They oughta have put down The Brotherhood a long time ago. It might’ve saved them all some grief.
“Logan?” she asked, turning back to face him. “What should we do?” Tension was etched into every slender line of muscle.
He turned the question over in his mind for several seconds. They would have to tell the others, and soon. Chuck might know what to do with that information or figure out what it meant. His gut instinct, though, was to keep Rogue next to him. Safe and sequestered in this room. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. There was no way he’d survive the loss again. It had almost killed him losin’ Marie before. And if anything, he felt even more strongly for this Rogue, now. There was a different element to her. Something intangible that just drew him to her.
He exhaled sharply and turned to face her as he crossed his arms over his chest. “We gotta tell Charles and Scott about Rift. I don’t like what it might mean if The Brotherhood knows what he can do. Too fuckin’ dangerous.”
Rogue nodded, but she didn’t relax. Her shoulders were tight, and she was clenching her fists at her sides. Almost like she was waiting for something to happen.
Logan could feel something brewing inside him. A question that was spiraling up from the dark recesses of his mind. Wolverine growled as the thought solidified and shot through him like a fucking bullet. He had to ask the question. He fucking hated that he had to. But he would hate himself even more if he didn’t. It would sit and rot, deep within him, until it spread throughout his soul, and tainted any real trust they had developed between them.
“Do you want to go back?” he growled the question suddenly, before he could lose his nerve. Or, he thought darkly, before Wolverine could rip control from him and stop him from askin’ the question at all.
He could tell he’d caught her off guard. She blinked rapidly and frowned at him, clearly not understanding what he meant.
“What do you mean? Go back? To the mansion?”
“No,” he barked. Logan never wanted her to have to face that kind of torture ever again. He had to force himself to soften his tone. He was going about this all wrong. Shit. “Back. You know. To your place.”
Rogue sighed and ran one hand through her hair. It’d become tangled and messy after so many hours of being in bed with him. And he fucking loved the way she looked with it down around her face. He’d almost gotten used to the lack of his Marie’s platinum streak, though he was more than glad Rogue hadn’t had a similar experience that had caused that same scar.
“I -,” she hesitated, looking at him with those huge brown eyes. “I don’t…” Rogue trailed off then, and she turned her back to him, staring back out the window again.
His guts twisted and the Wolverine howled as her silence stretched between them. Jesus. What was he gonna do if she said yes?
Finally, she spoke, though it was so quiet he almost didn’t hear her.
“I don’t know.”
A desperate feeling tore through him. Anger and confusion and lust all swirled together and he clenched his jaw as he tried to sort everything out. But the anger won out, and he exploded. “Fuck! Why’d ya kiss me the other night, Rogue?” He was breathing hard as he stood there. He wanted to lash out, berate her for taking that step that had pushed them both over that line they’d been treading. And he wanted to reach out and grab her, plaster her body against his and make her forget everything about where she’d come from.
She stayed by the window, her back still toward him, and every moment she didn’t respond ratcheted up his frustration by several degrees.
He couldn’t take her silence any longer and growled out in a low, dangerous voice as he started stalking toward her. “What made you do it?”
Hearing his approach, she whirled to face him, eyes blazing as much as they had been the night she kissed him. “You want to know why? Jesus, Logan! It’s because I’ve never wanted anything so much in my goddamn life!”
A snarl of satisfaction left his lips at her words. He knew she’d wanted him.
“But if you think for one minute that I’m not conflicted about being excited about the possibility that I might be able to go back. To the friends and home that I know.” She shook her head at him once, and all the fire and warmth had gone from her eyes. “Then maybe this thing I started between us wasn’t such a good idea.”
And before he could stop her, she’d stalked back over to the bed, grabbed a sheet, and tossed it around her shoulders as she slammed his bedroom door behind her.
Wolverine’s thought echoed through him, and he snarled as he slammed a fist into the wall.
Jesus, bub. What the fuck did you just do?