“I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Her words fell into the silence, and his bitter snort rang between them.
“Far as I was concerned, you never were. You looked like a woman, smelt like a woman, and hell, I was ready to fuck you against the wall of the back alley just like any other woman. Men like me, kid, they aren't gonna stop and ask how old you are.” Blue tendrils of smoke escaped his nostrils, curling in the air in front of him. “But then you looked at me, like you were looking at a real person. Someone worth something. And I had to look at the person you were, and hell, you weren't for me. Too fuckin' pure, no matter how you smelt.”
He sighed heavily, breath expelling from his lungs in a rush. “When I let you into my truck, it wasn’t because I wanted to fuck you, or fulfill any kind of dirty fantasy. Yeah, sure, I was thinking about all the ways I could touch you, and yeah, I pretty much had a hard-on every time your lips quirked, but ... I stopped it. Pushed it away. Because for the first time I could remember, someone needed my help, and I wanted to help them.”
She nodded, remembering the conflict and confusion that was still swirling when she first touched him, days later. “And you didn't, Logan. You didn't take advantage, even though...” She took a breath, her cheeks heating with anger as the implications of his words sunk in. “So, what was it, Logan? What pushed me off my pedestal? God, for so long, you told yourself I was pure, and innocent, and good and all those things you didn't deserve ... Jesus, talk about the untouchable girl! And the cell? Was that just about me being fuckable now? Satisfying a long starved desire?”
Logan’s lips curled back in a sneer, the cigar forgotten as he stood up. He stretched to his full height, baring his teeth as he snarled at her. Low and full of menace. “I’m not the fucking guy in the cell, Marie. That was the other guy, the one that wanted to fuck you in the back alley. You’ve shown me I can be more than that. But Jesus, Marie. I didn't have anything left. Not one single reason why I couldn't touch you. And when I knew that the little prick had touched you, that he'd had you and just fuckin' left, I had to hurt him. He'd had you and just thrown you away.”
Marie’s anger faltered when he said, out loud, what she knew to be true about John. What she’d been thinking herself. Tears started to gather in her eyes at the fact that Logan cared – not just enough to protect the child, but to avenge the woman. “Then tell me what you want now. What am I to you?”
“I don't know, Marie.” He shouted, full of agony and anger. “I don’t know who I am, so how can I know what I want?” The words trailed off as he realized that the truth – never before admitted – had drained much of his frustration. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing slowly and deliberately through his nose as he tried to rein the residual anger. “In the cell it was easy. In the cell I could be the guy who could just fuck you and not care. I didn't have to worry about corrupting you, or screwing up your life. About not being enough for you. I could just fuck you, and get lost in your body and your scent, and not worry about whether it was the right thing."
She wiped at her tears with the heel of her hand, her voice growing louder as she tried to drive her words through his adamantium-encased skull. “It’s not about right and wrong, Logan. You didn't drag me down there, and didn't force me to stay. I wanted to fuck you, and I wanted to fuck John.” He growled, and she rolled her eyes. “Fuck him over, Logan. Fuck him up. Whatever. Point is, Logan, the whole thing about consenting adults? You get to choose, too. You know what I want, and I need to know what you want. Do you want the reality, or the fantasy?”
She pinned him with a glare and advanced with a twisted smile. “And I’m not talking about the green coat, or being fucked on a bar, or even that blowjob you couldn't stop thinking about in the camper. I’m talking about the cell. It’s fantasy. It’s us pretending there’s nothing but sex, and coercion, and revenge, when we both know damn well that this is more than that.” Her voiced cracked under the strain. She was unable to give up on him, but unwilling to force him further. “Your decision, Logan. I've made mine.”
He scrubbed his face with his hand, a growl escaping him. “I want more, okay?” There was a long pause as he took a breath, his eyes avoiding hers. “I want you in my bed every night, and I want you there in the mornings. I want to be able to eat fuckin’ breakfast with you in that fuckin’ dining room.” His anger faded, replaced by despair. “But I’m still scared of how much I feel for you. It’s not just about protection, Marie, or keeping you safe. It’s about possession, and lust, and ownership, and a whole bunch of stuff that needs to stay in the dark where it belongs.” He closed his eyes, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “Ugly stuff I have no business thinking about you, Marie,” he whispered, wiping his hand across his eyes.
Marie shook her head, raising her hands to touch him, but deciding against it. “Logan, don’t you understand? Lust isn’t bad. Wanting someone doesn’t make you a bad person. Yes, lust is primal and basic, but that's not all it is. It’s raw and honest - it’s about potential, and compatibility, and all the things we have together.” He didn't move, or make a sound, but something in his face told her he was listening. Considering. Maybe even beginning to hope.
Marie looked hard into his face, trying not to plead her case. To beg. “It’s not about giving in. It’s about choosing that potential, or choosing to ignore it. And the ownership, the possession? Logan, you wouldn't be taking anything I’m not willing to give. I want to belong to you. I want to be yours, and yours alone.” She took a breath, trying to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill. “You seem to think it was a bad thing for me to have you in my head, Logan. It wasn’t. I loved it. I love you. But I need more than just a three-year-old version of you. I need all of you ... body and soul”
She waited for his response, hating the fact she could do nothing but wait. But it had to be his decision, his choice. He opened his mouth, and she tried not to tremble.
“I want to give you that, Marie. But I’m not sure if I can. Not sure if I have that in me.” He dragged in a breath, chest heaving harder than it did during a workout. “If I do, it’s there for you. You’re the only one who will ever see that from me, I can promise you that. But I can’t promise you I won’t hurt you, or that this will work out.”
The honesty in his eyes was tearing her soul out. “Don't promise, then. Just try.”
He gathered her into a hug, strong arms wrapping around her as he held him to her. She buried her face against his chest, her arms around his waist. They stayed within the embrace for a long moment, and it wasn’t until Logan released her, that Marie thought to break the silence.
“What are we going to tell people? You know, about us.”
“We tell ‘em to mind their own fuckin’ business.” His expression softened when her face fell, and he stroked gentle fingers through her white forelock in apology. “Marie, its not that I don't want us to be ... together. But we have to work it out first. Work us out. But ... if anybody asks ... we’re friends. Best friends. Better friends than we’ve ever been.”
She raised an eyebrow, a smile curving her lips. “With benefits?”
Logan grinned, full and happy. “Yeah, sweetheart. But they don't have to know that ... yet.”
*
Logan knocked on the open door to Hank’s office. The doctor was on the phone, but waved him in anyway. Logan turned and closed the door behind him. As he faced Beast again, he raised an eyebrow at the angry tone the doctor spoke with. His only reply was a rolling of blue eyes. He leant against the filing cabinet, folding his arms across his chest as he waited.
Hank ended the call a moment later with a very uncharacteristic sentiment involving body cavities and reports, and again Logan raised an eyebrow.
“Problem?”
Hank sighed, and motioned for Logan to take a seat. “Just politicians and their inborn ability to mishear everything. I suspect even now he’s relaying that last message I gave him. Only it will be nothing like the way I phrased it, and more like unequivocal support for their ridiculous legislation.”
Logan couldn’t help the fact that his eyes had glazed over at that last word, but he was grateful McCoy noticed and changed the subject.
“But you’re not here to listen to me bad mouth politicians, correct? So tell me, what can I do for you this time?”
Logan dropped his gaze for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. “It’s about… Allerdyce. I think I should hand him over to you. The X-Men. Get him out of that cell.”
Hank’s eyebrows went up. “You think he’s trustworthy enough?”
Logan grimaced. “No, not really. But that’s my problem. I think he needs you to take a proper look at his wounds, and he probably needs a decent night’s sleep. I’m not saying give him a key to the mansion, and a free pass.”
Hank pressed his fingers together as he placed his elbows on his desk, regarding Logan over the top of his glasses. “You no longer feel you have a handle on the situation?”
“You don’t mince your words, do you Doc?” Logan gave a small shake of his head. “The ‘situation’ changed. And I hate to say this, but I almost think the kid might benefit from some time outside the cell. Away from me. From what I did. Maybe he’ll even—” Logan stopped, trying to think of a word other than ‘rehabilitate’. It didn’t seem right.
Hank held up his hands. “I understand. As I recall, there is a spare room available in the staff wing.” He paused, raising an eyebrow. “Or is that too close to you?”
Too close to Marie, more like, Logan thought. “It’ll have to do.”
Hank nodded in agreement, standing up from his desk. “Shall we go now? Get this sorted out quickly?”
Logan tried not to show his surprise, but followed McCoy out of his office. It probably was better to do it as quickly as possible. He and Marie had laid their cards on the table, and Logan felt that if he were going to make any real go at being the man he said he wanted to be, then he needed to get Allerdyce out of that cell. Give himself no reason to have to go down there. As long as the fire starter was still captive, the cage fighter would be tempted to hit below the belt. Vent his rage. Play his games.
*
Logan swiped his card to let them into the cell. He gestured for Hank to enter first, hoping that the sight of the doctor wouldn’t get Allerdyce on edge. He needn’t have worried though. The kid had been asleep, his eyes opening slowly as Logan crouched beside him.
“Visiting hours started again so soon?”
He ignored Pyro’s sarcasm, deciding to turn his attention to the kid’s manacles as he pulled a key from his back pocket.
“I’m free?”
Hank cleared his throat, choosing to field the question as Logan could only manage a growl and a glare. “Not quite. I shall be taking you to the medlab, then I shall show you to your new living quarters.”
Pyro raised an eyebrow. “But I’m not going to be in the cell anymore.”
Logan paused as he moved to get the other manacle, unable to stop himself from inhaling deeply. The fire starter’s voice was firm, confident even. But his scent contained doubt, even sorrow. Logan had an idea as to where the conflict was coming from, but he chose not to dwell on it. Instead he freed Pyro from his final restraint, and stood back up. He offered the kid a hand, but it was refused with a sneer.
“I can stand on my own, thanks. I’m a big boy now.”
Logan watched Allerdyce struggle to stand, but kept still. He respected Pyro’s need to show his independence, thinking that he would have done the same. Hank gestured to the door, letting Pyro limp out first.
Logan met Hank’s gaze, and felt uneasy about the way the doctor was suddenly hesitant.
“The others may eventually notice his wounds, Logan. Certainly a broken nose cannot be camouflaged with clothing.”
“Then maybe he needs to be confined to his room. Doctor’s orders, or something.”
Hank gave Logan a very suspicious look. “I hope after all this, that you at least remember to buy me a drink.”
Logan nodded. “Done.”
But Hank hadn’t left the cell yet, he was still looking at Logan. “And perhaps you could think of some way to make amends with the young Pyro?”
Logan merely managed a grunt of acknowledgment, watching the retreating backs of both Pyro and Beast.
*
John clenched his jaw as the bandage on his leg was peeled off. The blood had caused it to stick firmly to the wound, making it hurt more than he could actually remember Logan’s claws ever hurting when they’d cut his flesh.
“My apologies,” muttered Hank as he reached for fresh bandages and antiseptic.
John managed a grunt, trying to focus on anything except the sting of the liquid as Hank cleaned him up. He was annoyed that he was no longer numb to the pain, his hatred at what had been done to him down in the cell having been curbed by what had happened most recently. He should have been ashamed, or even better, angry. But he wasn’t. There was no denying the relief that giving into Marie’s urgings had given him. And just being that close to her again as she held his gaze, her body shuddering as the orgasm tore through her was enough to start his blood rushing south again. But a painful sting reminded him of where he was, and how inappropriate a raging hard-on would be right now.
He knew that at least some of her pleasure had come from seeing him jerk off. So he had to wonder whether she had completely let him go. Let her feelings go. If there was even the remotest possibility of him finding his way back into her bed, then he’d take it. And if he could only ever see her that way again in the Wolverine’s presence…
“Fuck!”
His eyes snapped open to find Hank looking extremely apologetic. He bared his teeth at the blue-haired doctor, the animalistic trait earning him a chuckle. He looked down at his leg, surprised to find that the cuts had been completely stitched up.
“I’m afraid the needle was being a bit uncooperative on that last stitch.”
John raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re actually a doctor?”
Hank flashed a toothy grin. “Quite sure. Now let’s just take another look at that nose, and then I’ll show you up to your room.”
Once again, John closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. Images of a naked, and very aroused Marie danced before his eyes. His memories of what her body had felt like beneath his were still strong, but he had to admit it was nothing to seeing what she was like when there were no barriers; no thought given to her skin. He suddenly ached with the need to feel all that skin for himself, to be inside her. To have her pulsing around him.
And then he thought of Logan, and everything that man had done to Marie. Or maybe, he realised, it was with Marie. The growing suspicion left a bad taste in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but remember the heat in her voice as she described their first meeting. How spellbound they’d been in the face of the fantasy.
Her fantasy. But the part that worried him – the tenderness, the contentment – hadn’t been imaginary, and he hated to think what might have been behind it.
He heard Hank clearing his throat, and opened his eyes to watch the doctor clearing away his things. “That’s it?”
Hank nodded, pointing to a pile of clothes that now lay beside him. “Put those on. Ah… let me know if you need any help.”
The doctor’s face reflected John’s own discomfort at the suggestion. He mumbled something about being able to handle it himself, breaking eye contact before he could feel any embarrassment. He looked down at the clothes, shock rolling through him.
“Where did you get these,” he demanded.
Hank turned back to look at him, clearly unable to understand his sudden outrage. “There’s a box of spare clothing kept on hand, why is something wrong? They looked to be your size.”
John just waved a hand dismissively, picking up the all too familiar patterned shirt. He threw it back down, discarding the shreds of the t-shirt that still hung on his body. He gingerly pulled on the singlet before slipping on the shirt. It still fit perfectly, and images of Rogue — Marie — doing up the buttons after a stolen hour before leaving for the field trip to museum came into his mind. He pulled on the clean boxers and pants, and for a moment put his hand in his pocket, genuinely believing that he might have found his old lighter there.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the sudden bout of nostalgia. He followed Hank from the medlab, grateful that the ride in the elevator would help avoid the mansion’s other inhabitants. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief when they managed not to bump into anyone as Hank led him down a vaguely familiar corridor. The corridors in this place had always looked alike, he told himself.
Hank unlocked a door, and gestured for John to enter. He stepped into the room, trying not to betray his surprise. It was as far from the cell as he could get, and even put the room he had shared with the Iceman to shame.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’m afraid you’ll have to stay here while you heal.” Hank smiled. “But I’m sure you’ll find the bed here much more accommodating than those of the medlab.”
With that, he left the room. John waited for the lock to click, but it never did. He would be able to leave the room as he pleased. His body suddenly slumped with exhaustion, and he crawled onto the bed. He could leave. If he ever wanted to.
*
Kitty’s eyes narrowed as she stared at the next table over. Logan’s knee was most definitely touching Marie’s under the table, and she could read the girl’s body language like a book. The way she kept toying with her hair, the flush in her cheeks, the sly teases and knowing glances.
“They’re screwing each other.”
Jubilee made a hushing noise, for once not actually wanting to get involved in gossip. “Kitty! It’s none of our business.”
Kitty rolled her eyes. “He’s our instructor. Our teacher. If he’s going to be working his way through the student body then we should know.”
Jubilee laughed. “Hopeful, are you? Haven’t stolen your full quota of Rogue’s men yet?”
That shut Kitty up for at least half a second, Jubilee noted. The hussy even blushed a little. But it didn't take long for Little Miss Obnoxious to reappear. “Its sexual harassment in the workplace, is what it is,” she sniffed, the sheer ridiculousness of the charge making Jubilee want to bang her head on the table. “Please Kitty, he’ll hear you.”
Peter cleared his throat, as anxious as Jubilee to steer the conversation to another topic. “So, Warren how’d you like being in the pilot’s chair? Still prefer your own wings?”
Before the winged man had a chance to answer, Kitty was making noises of disapproval again. “Did you see that? He just gave her thigh a squeeze! That is most definitely not a show of friendship.”
“I always knew they had a thing for each other.” All eyes turned to Bobby. He shrugged, pushing the last of his lunch around on his plate. “Ever since… ever,” he finished inarticulately.
Jubilee bit her tongue, not daring to betray the confidence of one of her closest friends. But she did have to admit, at least to herself, that things between Marie and Logan had certainly taken a turn recently.
“Well, there was that incident in the DR.”
Warren’s tone had been hushed, and he avoided Jubilee’s gaze. Kitty just made a gesture as if to say ‘See?’ and Bobby nodded in agreement.
Peter shook his head, still refusing to badmouth his teammate. “Their personal lives are not our business.”
Kitty huffed impatiently. “It is when the rest of us are being treated unfairly.”
“Unfairly?” Marie stood at the end of their table, glaring at Kitty. “You think that being reprimanded justifiably for your negligent behaviour towards your teammates is unfair?”
Kitty instinctively leaned back against Bobby in search of support, but the movement earned a derisive snort from Marie as she rolled her eyes.
“And gossiping about something that is in no way your business, is that fair?” This time her gaze took in the entire table. “You find it a decent topic for discussion over your lunches, do you?”
Jubilee visibly flinched at the anger in Marie’s eyes, knowing that despite the fact she had never spoken against Marie, she was still guilty for listening. She opened her mouth to apologise, but Bobby spoke first.
“There’s no point in getting angry about it, not when you know we’re right.”
Jubilee cringed, feeling the sudden need to distance herself from the table. And the cafeteria. Maybe even the whole school. She glanced at Peter, and saw that he too was looking uncomfortable. Marie’s bitter laugh sliced through Jubilee’s thoughts, making her turn back to watch. Much like she would a car accident.
“And what would you know about it, Bobby?” Marie snorted in derision. “You've been far too preoccupied trying to get Kitty to slurp the old Drake soft serve to worry about things like ... oh, freezing Pete!”
“Problem?”
Jubilee’s eyes flicked to Logan standing behind Marie, and the need to run far away began to tug at her. She looked at Kitty and Bobby, amazed to see that they had yet to realise exactly how much trouble they were in. If Logan chose to intervene … she shuddered to think what the consequences might be.
Shadowcat chose neither stealth, nor self-preservation. She charged right in.
“You shouldn’t be trying to sleep your way through the student body, it’s unfair on the rest of us. And it’s very unprofessional,” she scolded, oblivious.
Jubilee buried her head in her hands and groaned. Peter decided that his broccoli was suddenly of great interest, and Warren pretended he was reading the nutritional information on the back of his carton of milk. Only Kitty and Bobby were able to look at the incensed couple in front of them.
Jubilee heard Logan growl low in his throat, and raised her head enough to peep through her fingers at him. She did not feel remotely reassured by the fact that he was smiling. It was too close to the smile of a predator. All teeth and no joy. Well, there was a little joy, but she shuddered to think what it meant.
Logan stepped in close to Marie, and slowly ran his hands down her sides, never once taking his eyes off Kitty. “There’s only one student – one body – I’ve ever been interested in,” he purred, his hands reaching around to stroke the strip of skin exposed by the black hipsters she wore.
Jubilee dropped any pretense of trying not to watch when his hand delved even lower, and Marie’s drooping eyelids shot open. Her lover laughed, dropped a kiss on her neck, and then withdrew his hands with a wink and a whisper. Lucky, lucky Roguey was obviously on a promise, Jubilee smiled.
Kitty, however, sat there and spluttered, while Bobby looked like he might faint. Marie’s catlike grin spread even wider at their discomfort, and Logan looked less murderous.
“And if you’re so worried about what’s professional, here’s a tip. Bit more interest in your teammates’ safety, and less in their sex lives. You might actually get to stay on the team that way.” It wasn’t a threat, Jubilee realized. Logan didn’t do threats. He was in charge of combat, and whoever wasn’t combat ready, wasn’t on the team. End of discussion. For once, Kitty and Bobby had the sense to agree, acknowledging the edict with stiff nods.
Logan didn’t bother to respond, simply turning Marie away from the table and guiding her out of the dining hall. It was encouraging, Jubilee thought, how many people heaved a sigh of relief as the threat of bloodshed receded. She would have hated to think everyone was as blind – or stupid – as the so-not-dynamic duo.
*
In the privacy of the hall, Marie giggled quietly, unable to hold it in. “So I guess we’re kind of public now?”
Logan grimaced momentarily before thinking about how damn good it had felt to touch her again. And to be able to have his arm around her now. “Yeah. The smart thing woulda been to keep quiet about us for now … but I ain’t known for always doing the smart thing,” he shrugged. He’d hoped to last at least a week before his caveman instinct jumped up to claim Marie, but he’d obviously underestimated his possessive streak. Discretion was overrated anyway, Logan told himself.
He tried not to grin at her obvious pride, restricting himself to a soft smile instead. “Look, I gotta go take care of something.” He paused, turning to look at her as they entered the foyer. “Can I see you later?”
Marie nodded. “Sure. I’ll be in my room.”
She sashayed down the corridor with a noticeable sway in her step. Logan was momentarily tempted to follow her straight away, but forced himself to head in the opposite direction, towards a less pleasant task.
Minutes later, Logan bared his teeth at the carved wood in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t hate the fact that he had to knock on a door. It wasn’t so much the knocking though, as whose door it was. He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair and trying to arrange his expression into something vaguely resembling non-threatening as he knocked sharply.
There was a long pause before Logan picked up the sound of footsteps on the other side, and the sound of someone clearing their throat. Allerdyce opened the door, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Logan.
“What do you want?”
Logan bit back the growl, forcing himself to remember he wasn’t here to attack the kid. “Can I come in?”
John tilted his head, amusement in his expression. “I don’t know … I’m kind of tempted to refuse just to see if you’ll ask again.”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “I can just as easily have this conversation in the hallway. Your choice.”
John shrugged, stepping aside to let Logan in. “So what’s so important? Sex not so great with Marie now that you two don’t have an audience?”
Logan couldn’t keep back the growl, but he did managed to keep his claws sheathed. “For your information, Matchstick, I came here to try and make amends.”
John stared at him, waiting for the punch line. When it was evident there wasn’t one, he smirked. “You’re serious.”
Logan folded his arms across his chest. “I realise that what I did was … it was wrong. I shouldn’t have gone as far as I did. And,” he cleared his throat, trying to think of a way to put it, “I’d like to make it up to you.”
“Marie.”
Logan froze. There hadn’t even been a moment’s thought on Pyro’s part. The response had been out of his mouth the moment Logan stopped talking. He scowled. “Forget it. Think of something else.”
John shook his head, daring to come closer. “There isn’t anything else. Her. One night. That’s all I’m asking.”
And it’s too much. But Logan didn’t say it out loud. He looked at Pyro, and realised that even though he wasn’t going to let it happen, the only person who could actually say no was Marie. Logan had no right to speak for her, no matter how much he hated the idea. “Just think of something else.”
John’s eyes had narrowed again, like he could read Logan’s hesitation. Logan was grateful when the fire starter didn’t try to push the point.
“Fine. Then train me. Teach me to fight the way you do.”
Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but then he nodded. He was all too aware that John could go back to the Brotherhood, and if he picked up even half of the combat skills Logan could teach, he’d be a doubly effective killing machine. But … amends. And this was within his power. “We’ll have to let your wounds heal first,” he agreed.
Pyro had already moved back over to the door and was holding it open. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
*
Marie smiled warmly when she opened the door. “When you said later, I thought you meant a few hours.”
Logan’s hazel eyes took in the sight of Marie in a tank top and shorts. “You want me to come back?”
She shook her head, platinum and dark tresses shimmering. “You’re here now.” She walked back over to her bed, picking up her things and shifting them onto the desk. “Take a seat.”
Logan closed the door before settling himself on the corner of her bed. He raised an eyebrow when she sat on her desk chair. “You’re not going to sit next to me?”
Marie bit her lip, staring at him for a long moment before answering. “I don’t trust myself.”
Logan caught the scent of her arousal. His pupils dilated immediately, the feel of her still fresh in his mind. “With me.”
She nodded, running her hands down her legs before crossing them. “What I want to do right now is straddle you, and kiss you, and touch you, and…” She gave a small shrug of her shoulders, letting him guess the rest. “But you’re probably here to talk, or something. So here I am, keeping my hands to myself.”
Logan held her gaze. “I’m not here to talk.”
Her lips parted in surprise, and she unconsciously uncrossed her legs and shifted to the edge of her seat. “You’re not?”
He shook his head. “I mean, we could … but seeing you like that, and knowing what you just said … it’d be kind of hard to concentrate. I would have tried, Marie. To talk, I mean. But shit, it’s not really what I had in mind.”
She saw the sheepish grin on his face, and she couldn’t contain herself. She quickly closed the gap between them and climbed into his lap, her knees pinning his hips. He moved equally quickly, arms wrapping around her, mouth tilting towards hers as she leaned into him. But then, strangely, the urgency waned, as emotion surged forth to demand its due.
For a long moment their mouths hovered, their breath mingling. They studied each other: looking, touching, feeling. Marie’s soft brown eyes looked into Logan’s hazel: the devotion there was a soothing caress to his wounded soul. He could feel her chest rising and falling as she took in shallow breaths of air, and her very proximity sent lust snapping through his veins. But something else made it still, quieten. Wait.
Her lips brushed against his, their touch feather light. So soft, so gentle, the barest of tastes that left him craving more. But he followed where she led, and when he pressed his lips to hers, he sipped and savoured, rather than devoured. She sighed, her body folding into his, and soft, full lips parting to accept his tongue. It would have been surrender, but this was no battle. Logan swept his tongue over hers; his strokes slow as he drank her in, learned her by heart. There was no rush, no sense of urgency. Her hands moved up to tangle in his hair, a moan escaping her as he explored every inch of her depths.
She could feel him hard and ready through the denim of his jeans, and it seemed an extension of their kiss – pure pleasure, unbridled joy – when she began to writhe against him. With every undulation, the spiral tightened, and his tongue began to thrust; with every thrust she ground down with a twist that pushed him from hard to near-explosive.
There was only one end to that dance, and it would come far, far too soon, Marie decided. Her head fell back, breaking the kiss with a moan. His mouth moved to her throat, and clever hands slid under her tank top. Her skin was warm and smooth, and she shivered as he trailed a finger down her spine. She raised her head again, her mouth crashing against his. Her tongue pushed past his lips, probing and tasting. Intensity returned, and with it, the unbearable itch of arousal so strong that her nipples began to ache as they scratched against the material of her shirt. Super-sensitised crowns on breasts so heavy and full she could feel them swelling just at the thought of being touched. Arching away in invitation, she gave a sob of relief when he moved a hand round to cup, and weigh, then began to knead.
“Oh, Logan…”
She rocked her hips against him again, raising her arms as he pulled up the hem of her top. He got it up and over her head easily, smiling when her hands immediately flew back to grip his hair. Her tongue was back in his mouth, and he sucked on it hungrily as a low growl resonated deep within his chest. His hands were busy, though, removing his own jacket and shirt, so she forced herself closer, rubbing her breasts back and forth, back and forth against his chest, feeling the wiry hair there even through the thin cotton of his shirt, and her own bra. It wasn’t enough, though. They both needed more.
He eased her hands from his hair, reassuring her with a kiss on her jaw. He pulled his t-shirt and undershirt off, and tried not to slaver as she removed her own bra. He failed. Her nipples were just too enticing, and he dipped his head to take one in his mouth. She moaned and shivered as his tongue flicked over it. Her lower body shifted restlessly, and the room was thick with the scent of her arousal and his own.
“Mm… God, yes…”
It was all she could manage, the rest of her words coming out in unintelligible moans as he nipped and sucked and teased her nipple. Her back was arching painfully as she thrust her wonderful chest into his face, her hands holding him to her breast. His stubble scratched at sensitive flesh, and another shiver made its way to the base of her spine. Once more, she was approaching that place, the home of sheer abandonment. When he shifted to take the other nipple in his mouth, he growled, and the vibrations shuddered southwards. Her sex began to pulse with the promise of it all, with need.
“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, Marie.”
She raised her head, her eyes hooded as she met his gaze. She stroked the side of his face, her lips trailing kisses onto his jaw and nose and eyes as he undid the buttons on her shorts. His hand slipped inside her underwear, and a moan caught in her throat as he slid a finger across her clit. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth, nipping and sucking it. She dropped a hand from his hair, pressing it firmly against the bulge in his jeans.
“Marie…”
She popped the button on his jeans, her slender fingers making short work of his fly. He gasped out a breath as she wrapped a hand around his erection, already slippery from so long on the edge. He distracted himself by taking the time to learn, for the first time, really, the geometry of her most private places. Clit. Vulva. The pouting mouth below, already dripping for him and hungry for his touch.
“I want you inside me so bad, Logan.”
His eyes snapped open at her words, a growl escaping his lips. He held her against him with one arm, quickly flipping their positions so that he was on top. She was hastily relieved of her shorts and panties, and his jeans pooled at his feet before he kicked them away. Logan couldn’t help but stop and stare at Marie as she lay on the bed. She blushed under his scrutiny, and scooted back to give him room. His gaze traveled every inch of her. From her platinum streaks, to her kiss-swollen lips, to her glistening sex, and then to her toes as she curled them in anticipation.
Marie sucked in a breath. She had always known he was gorgeous, but the sight of him, from corded arms, down the expanse of chest to narrow hips and hard-muscled thighs, cock long, thick and engorged between them … her mouth went dry. It suddenly dawned on her that this was the first time she had seen him naked. Her lips curved into a smile, as sheer happiness joined the waves of desire rolling through her. She held out her arms, beckoning to him. The bed dipped with Logan’s added weight, and she let out a quiet sigh as he settled between her open legs. He held his weight off her as he trailed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone and down the valley between her breasts. Marie’s hands were on his back, running over his bare flesh. She watched as his tongue dipped into her navel, and then he was moving back up her body and his mouth was on hers. She arched up against him, wanting to feel his hard body against hers. Inside hers. She hooked a leg around his as she lifted her hips.
Logan’s hand gripped her hip as he positioned himself at her entrance. He broke the kiss, his other hand stroking her face. He waited until her eyes met his, and buried himself on the first thrust. Marie’s mouth widened in delight, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He withdrew nearly all the way, then thrust in deep. She let out a moan, clenching around him as he withdrew again. He held her gaze as he found a slow, steady rhythm. Moans and whispered words punctuated their movements, and their bodies became slick with sweat. Logan dipped his head to lick at the salted beads covering Marie’s neck, his lips brushing over one of his marks. She moaned loudly, her back arching as the spirals of pleasure started to become too much.
“Please, Logan, please…”
Her hips were meeting his, taking him in deeper. Her legs moved to hook around his waist. Her brown eyes were imploring him for release. His thrusts became harder, faster, deeper. She started tremble under him, her eyes locking with his. Logan pushed inside her once more and her body shuddered as the orgasm ripped through her. She cried out his name, her hands clutching his arms. The feel of her pulsing around him pulled Logan over the edge, a guttural roar echoing through the room – possibly the entire building – as he came hard.
In the slow-motion moments that followed, they were reluctant to separate. Still breathing hard, Marie still clenching with periodic aftershocks, they lay in silence. When they could open their eyes, he moved onto one elbow and simply looked his fill, before tangling a hand in her damp locks to pull her in for a kiss. She smiled. He smiled. And they slept.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thanks to Jaq for beta duty