The mansion was full to bursting with people. Tomorrow was the annual Open House for the many donors who paid for a good part of the upkeep and operations of the school. Everyone was on their best behavior.
For Logan, that meant a good deal of time away from the mansion.
He'd complained vociferously to Rogue about the people who'd been arriving since Thursday, and by Saturday night, he'd gotten fed up with the way she swallowed her moans when they made love.
Earlier that evening, he'd grabbed her and they'd sped off into town to hit the Auger Inn. They'd quaffed a few pints, had a few shots and basically tried to forget about the hell that awaited them tomorrow, when they actually had to give presentations to the donors and guests on the classes they taught.
Now they stumbled into the kitchen, Rogue still slightly tipsy, Logan stone-cold sober after the ride home.
"Logan," she said, leaning against the table seductively, wearing a smile that could only mean one thing: Marie-sex, and lots of it.
"Yeah, baby?" he growled.
"Never have I ever..." she paused and he caught his breath. He'd never admit how turned on this game of hers made him. Hell, he was hornier than a tomcat on the prowl around her, but the game was something special. It meant he was the first -- the only -- one who got to do things with Marie. "Had sex on the roof," she finished after deciding she'd kept him waiting long enough.
She giggled at the way he jumped to his feet and drew her upright. "Let's go, then."
He stopped momentarily at the refrigerator and pulled out one of the bottles of champagne Chuck was keeping for the reception tomorrow evening. He grinned. "This is gonna be fun."
She leaned up and kissed him deeply. "I know it is, sugar." He held the bottle in one hand and Marie in the other as he tugged her along to the stairwell and started stealthily up the steps.
"Be vewwy quiet," she whispered. "We're hunting wabbits." Another giggle.
He turned quickly to shush her, slipped in a little puddle of water left by the dripping champagne bottle, and somehow lost his footing. The two of them ended up entangled, with Rogue on top, her body pressed to the length of his on the stairs. He held the champagne bottle high above his head, worrying more about keeping her safe from broken glass than about his plans for the bubbly.
"You okay?" she asked, concern replacing lust for a moment.
He grunted. He was fine. Her mouth was so close, he couldn't resist. He slanted his lips over hers and she opened immediately to him. Their tongues thrust against each other ravenously. She kissed him like she was tasting him for the first time. It always amazed him that they could actually touch -- that his mutation had allowed him this immunity to hers -- and he always tried to make the most of it.
His hands landed on her hips as she began to nibble at his jaw, sliding her tongue up to the sensitive spot just beneath his ear. Then she had his earlobe between his teeth and he felt himself get even harder. He shifted, trying to ease the strain from his tight jeans, and she straddled him, grinding down on his erection, a wicked smile on her face. He forgot all about the edge of the stair pressing into his back and took her lips in a fierce kiss before tracing on her graceful jaw the same path she'd just taken on his.
Her lips were on his clavicle when he said, "I wanna taste you, Marie." She moaned at that and rubbed herself against him.
"Logan," she gasped as he rolled them over so her back was pressed to the stairs.
"Did I hurt you?"
"No. I'm good. I need you to touch me now."
His grin was feral. "Oh, baby, I will." His hands were sure as they unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off her hips, freeing her sex to his fingers. He raised an eyebrow. "Goin' commando nowadays?" His thumb had already found her clit and was circling slowly.
"No-panties Saturday," she managed, trying to push her hips up into his hand.
"I like it," he said, putting his other arm over her belly to hold her down.
He withdrew his hand from her sex, and she grunted in disappointment.
"I wanna take my time," he whispered, taking her foot and kissing his way up her left leg, beginning at her instep, sliding his lips up to the sensitive flesh behind her knee, and then up to her inner thigh. He breathed lightly against her mound and she jerked into him, but he pushed her down again, this time seating her ass on the step so she was more comfortable.
He repeated the process on her right leg. She writhed beneath him, crazed by the sensations his touch aroused.
"Logan, I need you to taste me," she moaned.
"That's right, baby," he murmured against the silky skin of her inner thigh. "You need me, only me."
"Only you," she replied.
*Snikt*
The sound startled her, and she heard the pop of the champagne cork. Then she felt the bubbly liquid being dribbled over her sex. She squirmed. "It's cold," she complained. "And it tickles."
He lifted her legs over his shoulders and pressed his face to the dark curls, drinking in the taste of Marie and fine, French champagne. He flicked his tongue over her clit, loving the little mewling sounds she made as she got closer and closer to her release. Her legs locked around his neck and her hands raked his scalp, trying to press him even closer as his tongue thrust into her wet passage.
One of his hands snaked up to tease at her nipples, sending a ripple of fire through her. Then he brought his lips back to the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs and bit lightly before sucking it into his mouth.
Her hips bucked wildly and the sensations ripped through her; she was nothing but tingling nerves and liquid heat. As she came, she cried out his name over and over again. His hand cradled the back of her head so she didn't bang it against the step above and hurt herself.
He reared up to take her mouth again and then dribbled some champagne onto her lips. Her tongue came out and he bit it gently before sucking it into his mouth. She tasted herself mingled with him and the fruit of the vine.
Her hands moved between them to unfasten his jeans, and he shucked them quickly. She took his heavy length into her hand and began pumping hard, from base to tip, occasionally flicking a finger over the bulbous head.
He flipped them over again and arranged her knees on either side of his hips. He reached up and ripped her blouse open, popping the buttons and scattering them all over. The housekeeper would be finding them for weeks. His fingers slid under her bra straps and eased them down her shoulders so the creamy mounds could fall into his waiting hands.
"You okay?" he asked hoarsely.
"Better than," she replied, her eyes still hazy from her first orgasm and his attentions to her breasts. She moved her hips and brushed the head of his cock with her velvet folds. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. She leaned forward, laving at the injury with her tongue. While she drew his tongue into her mouth for another searing kiss, she impaled herself.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Marie," he roared when she released his mouth.
She placed a delicate finger over his lips. "Shh, Logan. Can't have the guests waking up," she murmured, stopping the rhythm she'd begun.
"You're right, darlin'," he managed, and she began moving again, raising herself up so he was almost completely out, and then slowly lowering herself down onto him, until he was fully sheathed in her hot, wet passage.
"Come on, sugar," she whispered. "Come for me. I love watching you come, Logan."
"Talk to me, Marie," he ground out, hands on her hips as his lips worshiped at her breasts, pulling first one taut, rosy nipple into his mouth and then the other.
"I love the feel of your hard cock inside me when you fuck me," she moaned. "You make me so wet."
The thrusting sped up now, his hips pistoning into hers as he felt himself getting closer to the edge. His hand slipped between them to tease at her clit.
"Oh, God, Logan," she gasped, shuddering as she came, her muscles clenching tight around him as the world flew apart in a rainbow of bright lights.
He let himself go then, with an orgasm that started at the base of his spine. He thrust up into her once, twice, three times, his hands clamped on her hips. She fell against his chest and kissed him with a tenderness that never failed to make his heart ache and his dick hard.
After a few moments, he said, "Goddamn. What a fucking spectacular ride, Marie."
"Every damn time," she agreed, smiling smugly. "But we still haven't done it on the roof."
He grinned back. "And we still have half a bottle of champagne."
They scrambled to get decent enough to continue their climb to the roof.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Dedicated to Jenn, who wanted smut. Hope you like it. Thanks to Dot, Meg, Jen, and Pete for the quick turnaround and no, they weren't playing Twister. Oh, and rent "The Thomas Crowne Affair." Rene Russo rocks.