Logan was awfully quiet when they walked through buzzing and whirring marketplace. When they reached the truck, he opened the door, tossed her in with her purchases like a sack of potatoes and slammed the door shut so forcibly that the sound of it made her ears ring. For a moment he just stood outside, eyeing their surroundings and then climbed to the driver’s seat and started the truck.
She tried to make herself sparse, hide behind her bags. Logan’s grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. He was staring holes to the windshield, small muscles on his cheeks and throat ticking and twitching. She didn’t have any idea to whom he was so furious. It was reasonable assumption that he was planning the best way to gut her and dispose her body. So when he stopped the truck in the middle of nowhere, after several hours of unnerving silence, she squeaked and scurried out, trying for the best of her abilities to outrun him. She knew it was futile. Even after the Guards had beaten and shot him, half dead, he had been faster than her, pushing her forward on the scorching desert. But her body couldn’t accept the defeat so easily. When he caught her and tackled her to the ground she started kicking and scratching.
It took her a while to realize nothing was happening. Logan just lay on top of her, carrying the weight of his upper body on his elbows, and stared at her.
“I guess I deserved that,” he said, scratches and gouges on his face healing rapidly.
“Aren’t you mad at me?” Marie asked. Logan shook his head.
“I’m mad at myself. I can’t believe I was so stupid that I let those bastards get their paws on you.”
“But I thought… You were so angry and didn’t talk and…”
“Hush,” Logan huffed and leaned closer. Close enough to brush her cheek with the tip of his nose. She could feel his chest expand when he inhaled.
“I made a mistake. Won’t happen again. I promise.”
“But…”
“Shut up. Can I kiss you?”
Their earlier kiss had been awkward, but sweet. Kiss they now shared was neither. It was hot, frantic and desperate, teeth gnashing together, hands grasping hair and clothing, feeding their inner forges until they were both moaning and squirming, needing more.
“Do you want to stop?” Logan asked when he came up for the air. He had to ask again before Marie realized he had actually spoken. It took a while to form a coherent answer.
“I know we should, this is so soon, but I don’t want to…”
“Good…” Logan muttered against her lips, one hand sliding under her shirt while other carried his weight. Marie was licking and nibbling his lips and it would have been practically impossible to stop.
Finally she managed to get off Logan’s shirt. Feel all that warm skin and rippling muscles underneath.
“Christ…” Logan hissed and shivered when she accidentally raked her nails over his forearms. Hard bulge that had been pressing against her thigh got suddenly considerably harder.
“This has to go…” Logan grabbed the hem of her shirt. She sat up so that he could slide it off from her. He laid it on the ground and lowered her back on top of it. For a moment he could just stare at her breasts. Two perfectly shaped globe, just the right size to fit under his palm. Nipples already hard, straining peaks.
He lowered his head and licked one nipple experimentally, then sucked it between his lips when she gasped and arched her back, clearly enjoying at what he was doing. All the while she was writhing and squirming he spent exploring the rest of her body with his free hand, sliding it over her skin, skimming lightly over curves and shivering muscles. Finally he encountered an obstacle. Waistband of her jeans.
“Can I…?” She heard Logan asking, and felt his fingers on her stomach, resting lightly on top of the belt that held up her jeans. She let out a nervous chuckle.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…” She whispered, meeting his amused gaze.
“You do realize this is new to me, too?” Logan asked. She nodded, completely serious, but burst to nervous giggles. Laughter was contagious. Soon they lay on their backs, side by side. Every time they tried to turn face to face they started giggling uncontrollably.
“Fuck. We’re pathetic,” Logan grunted.
“I agree. Maybe we should try less talking and more action?”
“And some other time. It’s getting cold,” Logan said, sitting up. Sun was setting. Temperature would drop soon. They stood up and shrugged their shirts back on.
“Come on. It’s safer to stay on the move during night. You can sleep while I drive,” he said, taking Marie’s hand to his own and they walked back to the truck. She stretched over the seat, placing her head on his thigh and sighed deep. In mere minutes she was asleep, one hand curled around his knee, other latched under his shirt, fingers curled to the waistband of his jeans. Scent of her arousal still lingered, spicing the air in the truck. Usually he avoided situations like that. Scent of other people’s need and wanting made him uneasy, restless. But not Marie’s. He could almost hear a soft clicking sound somewhere inside of him when it wafted to his nostrils. Like a piece of a puzzle locking in to its rightful place. A wife? No. A life.
She felt warm and relaxed. Earlier frantic need had ebbed, still glowing inside of her, making her crawl closer to Logan, fingers seeking bare skin to touch. She found it under his shirt and anchored her fingers under the waistband of his jeans, feeling his muscles tense momentarily. She closed her eyes and let dream take over. In her dream they didn’t speak. They didn’t have to. Logan didn’t ask and she didn’t have to answer, because they were already joined, melting together. Her white, scarred skin mixing with his tanned and flawless. Twirling together like strands of rope, drowning to each other. Last thing she saw were his eyes, usual brown gaining sickly, yellow tint.
“Mine…” Vicious sounding snarl shook her awake and she sat up abruptly, pulling away from him.
“Slept well?” Logan asked. Marie yawned and looked around. Sun was rising. And she could have sworn she had slept barely few minutes. Scenery around them had changed. Thick forest had replaced the dry desert.
“Just fine. Aren’t you tired?” She asked, turning to look at him. Last time she had seen him actually sleep was during the sandstorm, before Hunters caught them. Logan shrugged.
“Little. But we’re already close to my place and I figured we could drive there straight. Don’t want to risk another incident.” They had passed several patrols of Hunters during the night, but he wasn’t going to tell Marie that. He didn’t want her to worry.
“Can we stop for a minute?” Marie suddenly asked. Logan looked at her questioningly. She blushed slightly.
“I need to pee. Badly. Stop the truck if you don’t want to mop up the seat.”
“Better?” Logan asked when she climbed back to the truck.
“Much. And hungry.”
“Okay. I guess we could take a short break…”
“Unfuckingbelievable. Can’t we stop for five minutes without getting in to trouble?” Logan huffed, tugging the ropes that bind his hands behind his back. It was futile attempt. Surprisingly strong group of starving looking men and women had attacked them and captured them.
“And I bet they’re not after our breakfast…” Marie muttered, watching when they were gathering large pile of wood, stacking it to form a platform of sorts. When one of the men stepped forth, carrying sharp looking metal rods Logan nodded.
“They want fresh meat.” Marie squeaked in horror when they lit the pile of branches they had gathered. Flames stormed through dry wood.
“Don’t worry. We have some time left. They will wait until the temperature is right. No use to burn us to a crisp when they can let us cook slowly…” Logan muttered eyes fixed to the fire.
He remembered another fire, years ago. His group had captured a messenger. Not even an enemy unit. After they had checked that it wasn’t carrying any important messages they had roasted it and eaten it. It had been their first meal in nearly two weeks. Army had had some problems with transportation and there simply was no real food left.
“We're mutants!” Marie announced hastily when man carrying the skewers walked to them.
“Makes no difference. Meat is meat,” he grunted.
“Army property,” Logan said. Man spat.
“You’re shitting me.”
“No. I have implants, and she’s pumped full of toxins. One bite and you can kiss your ass good-bye,” Logan said, bending forward and releasing his claws for evidence. Man cursed softly, then turned to face his companions.
“Rotten meat. We’ll have to find something else,” he shouted. People looked devastated.
“We have food, in the truck,” Marie said. Man looked at her and snorted.
“Dried rations? Good for animals. We need fresh meat.”
“Wasn’t that entertaining…” Logan whispered after the group had left and they couldn’t hear their chatter any longer. He was twisting and turning, rolling on the ground, trying to loosen the ropes. He stopped when Marie whimpered and turned to look at her.
She was bending her body to a position that wasn’t even possible, arching her back, tugging her ropes and dragging her hands slowly over her head. He could hear sickening, popping sound when she dislocated her shoulders. Then her hands lay on her stomach instead of her back, still tied together.
“Come here,” she urged him, trying not to cry. He scooted next to her, and she started to open the ropes that tied his hands.
“How the hell did you do that?”
“I have gotten in to trouble before I met you. There was nobody who could help me. I had to learn a few tricks to get out…”
“Come on. I’ll carry you back to the truck, and we won’t fucking stop until we are at my place,” Logan said, rubbing her back soothingly. Marie had nearly fainted when he had set her shoulders, and was now cradling her arms on her lap.
“We should tie those up for a while. Let your shoulders heal…” He took his shirt, slung it over her shoulders and made a two-way sling from it for her to carry her arms before picking her up to his arms.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
Barely Legal Since 2000