She sat in one of the wicker chairs with her back to him, thumbing through a magazine. Her hair fell freely over naked shoulders, her naked feet were propped up on the sofa table. Smiling a little, he leaned against the doorframe, watching her.

“Hey sugs.”

Uncrossing his arms, he went over to her, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head. “How’d you know it was me?”

She looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Remember that cigar that’s almost like another limb for you? I’d recognise that scent anywhere.”

Logan smiled and leaned on the back of her chair, tracing her tattoo with one finger. “New?”

She shivered beneath his touch. “Yeah. Don’t feel as naked with it.”

He leaned down so that he could whisper in her ear, and as he spoke he saw the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “Did I ever tell you how much I like the naked you?”

A sharp intake of breath, and she turned her head, eyes wide. “Logan...”

He drew back, smiling. “It’s true. You know the skin issue never was one to me.”

She blushed a lovely shade of pink, and dropped her magazine on the table before getting up. Her tanned legs seemed to go on forever, and her ‘clothes’ did nothing to hide her voluptuous curves. “Don’t tease me, Logan.”

He caught her wrist as she walked past him, pulling her against him. Her reaction was instantaneous – the musky scent of her arousal enveloped him, and he smiled lopsidedly as her tongue snaked out to lick her suddenly very dry lips.

“We... we can’t do this...” Her breathy voice betrayed her words, and she licked her lips again.

“I’m not doing anything. Are you?” His other hand landed on her hip, pulling her flush against him, and her eyes slid closed.

“Logan...” Her hands started to move then, her nails digging into his shirt, pulling at it, and her head fell back in open invitation, even as she whispered, “I can’t.”

His grip on her tightened as he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on her jugular, and she moaned outright at that, a low, primal sound that vibrated through them both. Her hands wandered to the back of his head, sliding into his hair, and he kissed his way down her neck as she slid her hand into the back of his shirt, raking her nails over his skin.

“Tell me to stop.” She whimpered against his ear, her arms closing around him, and he manoeuvred them until her back was against the wall and his hand slid down her thigh, making her shiver. “Say it, and I’ll stop.” His fingers grazed the inside of her thigh, the lower edge of her shorts, and she moaned again.

He drew back, watching her, taking in everything about her – the flush of her cheeks, the small beads of sweat that were starting to form on her forehead, the way her nipples had become visible through her top. “Just say it.” With that he leaned down, taking one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking it through her shirt. She cried out, digging her nails into his scalp, and he let his teeth graze the sensitive bud.

Both knew that they had long since passed the point of no return, that he wouldn’t be able to stop now if she told him, not unless she really meant it, and Rogue was in no state to mean it. And when he undressed her, with fire in his eyes, and laid her on the floor, she didn’t even pretend anymore. He took his time, kissing and licking his way down her body, memorising every inch, and when he finally reached her centre, she was weeping with the need for release.

“Logan... please, I need...”

He breathed on her, and she arched her back with a small whimper. “Rogue...”

She looked at him then, her eyes glazed over with lust, her face flushed. “Anna.” It came out in a breathy whisper, and she smiled. “My name is Anna.”

His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he smiled against her thigh. Then he leaned forward, kissing her softly just above her dark curls, and growled her name against her skin before he leaned down and closed his lips over her clitoris.

She arched her back, crying out sharply, her fingers tightened in his hair, and then she fell over the edge, gasping his name as the wave swept her away. His hands dug into her thighs, holding her in place as she rode out her orgasm, and when she finally lay still, breathing heavily, he moved back, licking his lips. “Shoulda done this years ago.”

She laughed throatily, and his cock twitched in response. “Yeah. Except it would’ve killed you.”

He chuckled, reaching up to slide his fingers up the tattoo again, and she moaned. He growled, low, dangerous, and she whimpered. “We can still stop.”

She laughed then, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him up. “Like Hell we are.” They kissed for the first time then, and she moaned into his mouth at the taste of herself. His shirt was discarded to the side, and she fumbled with his belt buckle, pulling it open and unzipping his jeans, roughly pushing them down. She mewled at the sight of his cock, hard and ready, and she pulled him on top of her with a whispered, “Now, Logan.”

He held her eyes as he slid into her, until hers closed and her head fell back, and his own rolled back in his head as her hot wetness enveloped him, her muscles clenching and churning around him, drawing him in deeper and deeper until he was buried to the hilt. Then drew back slowly, agonisingly slow, and she arched her back again and hooked her ankles behind his buttocks, pulling him into her again.

He remembered that he forgot to put on a condom, but drawing in her scent assured him that she was on birth control. The memory of Gambit surfaced with that realisation, and he growled in annoyance, but as she raked her nails across his lower back, leaving bloody welts in their wake, and whispered, “Fuck me, Logan, fuck me harder,” into his neck, he forgot that Remy LeBeau even existed.

He rose to his knees, taking hold of her hips as he pulled her legs up on his shoulders, grinding her into the floor, and she gasped with each thrust, her nails digging into his thighs as she held on. Growling low, he leaned forward, changing the angle again, and she cried out, tightening around him, and then she gave a high-pitched scream that seemed to go on forever as she came. Logan followed her then, his orgasm washing over him, and he buried his teeth in her shoulder with a growl that shook them both to the core.

They lay on the floor for a long while afterwards, sweat-slicked and deeply satiated, and finally she raised her arm, lazily pushing against his shoulder.

“You’re heavy.”

He chuckled, and moved up and off of her. “Sure didn’t complain about that just then.”

She smiled slowly, stretching languidly. Then she looked at him, suddenly serious. “You leavin’?”

He fished for his shirt, pulling it on. “Yeah. Gotta hit the road.” He rose, stuffing himself back into his pants and zipping them up. He would have been lying to himself if he said he didn’t regret having to leave, but that was the way things were. They both had their lives, and the other had no part in that except as a friend.

Rogue rolled to her side, leaning on her elbow. “Sure.” Their eyes met, and both smiled.

The END