Story Notes:

I bow down to my betas’ infinite wisdom. Nebelwerfer42 suggested a change of tone and RogueLotus gave it the final stamp of approval. Without them you wouldn’t be reading this.
When Wolverine first agreed to become an X-Man after the Statue of Liberty, he’d set one rule for himself. No personal relationships with anyone in the mansion. It didn’t mean he couldn’t be friends or care about the others, but there would be no getting romantically or even sexually involved with any of them. Sex always made teams a walk in a minefield, especially when the relationship didn’t work out. He was well aware of the fact that his relationships never worked.

That still left the possibility of flirting. ‘Ro was good at flirting and played the game in the spirit it was meant to be done and never took it seriously. Jean liked to flirt, and he didn’t mind if it riled Scott up. They had an understanding that there was nothing more between them and it would never go further.

The younger women just entering adulthood, he considered off-limits for flirting, though he was friendly. If a grunt in greeting or a kind word when they were hurt counted. Besides, they had boys their own age that gave them all the attention they could ever crave.

The rule worked for almost three full years. If he got an itch, he went looking elsewhere to have it scratched. It was a simple rule that made life easier, that assured no problems. That was until the morning he found himself balls deep in Marie’s tight pussy.

He stared down, her tits bouncing with every thrust. Her messy hair spilled off the sides of the bench in the locker room. Those big brown eyes looked at him in a mixture of trust and awe. It wasn’t something he’d planned, because he was damn sure it wouldn’t have been like this.

Somewhere during his time with the X-Men, Marie had expressed an interest in being trained for the team and he’d taken on that responsibility. They’d trained in the Danger Room ever since, even after she made the junior team. It had become part of their routine.

Her status in his life was an unquantified thing. She was part of the younger team, like Bobby or Jubilee. They rarely interacted in any type of mission capacity, so she wasn’t really a teammate. Kurt and Hank were friends; drinking buddies, and she didn’t quite fit solidly into that category either. Despite all that, she was a strong, constant presence in his daily life.

This slip of judgment started like any cheap porn would. Marie walked into the men’s locker room, barely hidden behind a small hand towel. She carried on about some soap or lotion that had been lent out. Basically, standing there like she wasn’t checking him out and failing miserably.

That tightly controlled bun that she always wore for combat training was falling out, leaving large wisps all over. The swell of her breast and her nipple were in view. His eyes traveled further down to the curve of her hip and the curls of hair peeking out from the towel.

He was turned slightly from shutting his locker, his own towel flung over his shoulder and nothing hiding the rest of him. Never mind that he’d heard her walking in, she wasn’t quiet about it. He was sure she wanted him to know she was approaching, but he’d been caught by surprise at her state of undress. She smelled heavily of adrenaline and arousal, wet for him.

Glancing at him coyly, her lush lips formed a perfect O when she saw his cock standing out from his body. “I haven’t seen this side of you,” she breathed out.

He growled at her with a snarl on his lips. Blushing, she batted her eyelashes. She stepped closer, giving him a smile and a cheesy line. “My, what big teeth you have.”

Or it was something like that. All he remembered was trading a few lame pick up lines and then she was on her back. In a rush, he plunged into her; her eyes widening, fingernails digging into his flesh. His rule, a forgotten line he wasn’t to cross.

He stopped to let out a breath and possibly rethink what he was doing, what they were doing. In those seconds, she regained her composure and whispered in his ear, “Fuck me, Logan.”

The animalistic side of him didn’t want to reason. It took those words as a wish to be fulfilled. The logical side of his brain only made the stipulation to leave her satisfied in the process. If the words of encouragement that continued to fall from her lips were any indication, he was on the right track.

She tried to change her position, but the narrow bench didn’t allow for much movement. He dropped a hand to her hip, helping her tilt them. With the new angle, she fell silent; eyes squeezed shut, hands with a death grip on his biceps.

“Marie,” he growled. Her eyes flew open as she convulsed around him. He lasted only moments longer, filling her with his hot cum.

On the second knock, Rogue heard the grunt that meant she was allowed to enter. Slipping in, she quickly closed the door and leaned against it, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness. The moonlight coming in the window was enough to see Logan laid back in bed, hands behind his head, sheets bunched around his waist. A cigar and a bottle of whiskey were within easy reach on the nightstand.

Several days had passed since their encounter. It was important to her that he knew things wouldn’t change between them. She wouldn’t spread the word all over the mansion about them or behave differently around him.

Mostly, she needed to know how he was going to act. He hadn’t left, which was a good sign, and more importantly, he hadn’t changed the way he treated her. That gave her hope that this plan had a chance of success.

The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. She’d heard that often enough growing up in the South. Only Logan wasn’t from the South, and food only meant so much to him. It had taken her some time to figure out the appropriate angle.

“I need to apologize,” she said, walking over to the bed. He grunted, body full of tension and his jaw doing that movement when he ground his teeth, getting ready for a fight. His dark eyes never left her, following her every movement.

There was one thing standing in between them, his rule. She’d already pushed until he broke it, but would he do it again? Over the years, she’d absorbed enough of him to know how he felt about her and how his feelings conflicted with the rule. There was also the fact that she’d seen his fantasies about her.

The strategy she put together revolved around these snippets and memories of sexual encounters. It was a foolproof plan, and she felt a twinge of guilt at doing this to him. Yet she’d tried to discuss this like adults, but he was deliberately obtuse, covering up his feelings for the sake of his rule. The Wolverine was a stubborn man and her appeal had to be made to his feral side.

A moment longer she stood there, getting her nerve up. With deft fingers, she untied the knot on her robe. It fell to the floor and still, he only watched, not making a move to stop or help her. Goosebumps multiplied along the surface of her naked body, motivating her to slip under the covers.

She molded her body to his, resting her head on his warm chest. Not only had she borrowed memories over the years, but pieces of his mutation were becoming permanent, enhancing her senses. They would never be like Logan’s. But even now she could make out the scent of the cigar he’d been smoking and the undertones of his whiskey. What drew her attention was his need under it all. It was an earthy smell, spiked with a touch of adrenaline, mingling with her own musky scent.

Rogue placed a kiss on his broad chest and he relaxed, bringing an arm down to hold her to him. Tentatively, she explored his chest. This was supposed to be an apology, but she couldn’t find the words to say what she was feeling, what she wanted him to know about her need for him.

Hoping her scent was enough of an explanation, her hand drifted further down his body. His muscles tightened in anticipation as her hand crossed his abdomen. She liked the subtle intake of breath when her hand wrapped around his hardening flesh.

He whispered her name, low and needy, in her ear. His hot breath sent a shiver up her spine. She lifted her head for a kiss and he obliged with a slow, languid exploration of her mouth so different from the rough, needy kiss of the other day.

Gently, he tried to guide her on top. She wanted to resist this position, her own experience lacking in what to do. This, however, should be about him, offering him more than a quick fuck he could get anywhere. Closing her eyes, she found the relevant bit of knowledge needed and looked into his imploring eyes. Acquiescing, she lifted herself up as he helped her situate herself. Descending on his hard cock, she shuddered when his thumb grazed her clit. He let out a soft growl, his hands already on her hips, moving her.

No sooner had she found the rhythm on her own than his hands moved elsewhere. They were at her breasts, fondling one and keeping the other at his mouth to suck at. Her insides were already tightening too quickly, and she felt him shift, crossing his ankles in the attempt to last through it. She gripped his shoulders, trying to hold back the moan building in her throat. He twisted her nipple, the other hand back on her hip. He mumbled, “Don’t stop.”

This wasn’t the slow lovemaking she had wanted to provide, it was proving too fast. She cried out as the orgasm hit her. He kept her moving; she knew he wanted the second wave that might accompany the first. Her body didn’t disappoint, and his name was wrung from her lips with the new rippling of her muscles.

He was flipping them over by the time she tried to slump down on his chest. She was a wreck, and he took advantage of it. Letting her catch her breath, he readjusted her legs, setting a leisurely pace. Being underneath him, caged in by his powerful arms, was everything she had wanted. Tomorrow she would be sore in all the right places.

Before long she was begging him for release and sinking her fingertips into the hard muscles of his back. He lost his rhythm as she arched into him, and he tried to look away. She had enough presence of mind to say his name and catch his eye as he spilled himself into her.

They lay tangled up for some time, neither of them moving. Rogue wondered what she should do next. She was spent and didn’t want to leave, but was that up to her. Soon enough, he rolled to his side and pulled her back into his chest. The problem was solved until the first rays of sunlight prompted her to leave the comfort of his arms for her own bedroom.
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