Logan looked up at the stranger straddling his hips. “Marie,” he said, his mind rejecting the idea at the same time. She didn’t sound like Marie, she didn’t even smell like her -- an acrid, musky animal smell swamping Marie’s own warm clean scent.
She narrowed her golden eyes, scratching a fingernail cruelly down his cheek, drawing blood. She popped the bloody finger in her mouth, sucking it clean as she ground down against his body. “Mmmm...tasty,” she purred.
Logan grabbed her hands, tumbling them until she was pinned down under his body. He looked urgently into her eyes. “Marie!” he said.
“Marie, Marie, Marie” she mocked. “Is that all you can say? Why do you want that pathetic little bitch back anyway?” She tilted her head up, licking and nipping at his neck. “I can do more for you than she ever could.”
“Shut up!” Logan snarled, shame rising at the bolt of lust caused by her soft tongue and sharp teeth on his skin. He shook her a little, feeling helpless. “Marie!”
“Little virgin Marie,” she sneered as Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. She smiled at his reaction. “What, you didn’t know?” she mocked. “You couldn’t smell it on her? Pathetic little Marie, unable to touch for so long. Then she finally can, and she’s too chicken to even try.” Her malevolent eyes narrowed. “Except for you. She touched you a lot,” she taunted. “Too bad you don’t remember. Maybe I should remind you.” She bucked her hips up against him, and he scrambled away from her in disgust.
“Let her go,” he growled. “You’re not her.”
With feline grace she slid off the bed, slinking towards him, unbuttoning her shirt as she went. “I know,” she said. “I’m soooo much better.” She pushed him, and unprepared for her strength, he was slammed up against the wall. She rubbed her lush body against him. “C’mon, sugar,” she purred.
He felt the fury rise up in him at the familiar endearment from this stranger’s lips, and reversed them, slamming her up against the wall, claws snicking out reflexively. He buried the claws in the wall on either side of her head, pressing his body to hers to keep her still. “Stop it!” he ground out.
She turned her head and licked the claw closest to her, sending a shudder through his body against his will as her soft pink tongue ran across the blunt edge from the skin of his knuckle to the wall. “That’s good, sugar,” she said. “I like it rough.”
“You got it,” he said, retracting the claws and pushing her towards the bed. He threw her down, pinning her with his body again, as she rubbed up against him, purring in pleasure. His claws snicked out again and he rapidly tore a pillowcase into strips, binding her wrists to the headboard before pushing himself off her, shaking.
“No!” she yowled, pulling against the bindings. “You son of a bitch!” He pulled up a chair and sat opposite her, coldly watching her struggles as she practically spat in anger. He paced the room a bit, letting her exhaust herself. When she lay still, looking at him with hot fury in her eyes, he sat down again.
“Marie,” he said. “You have to remember...remember who you are. Just you. You came and got me out of the lab. You took care of me. You threw in with me, God knows why. I want you back.” His voice broke. He took her face in his hands, staring into the angry golden eyes. Finally he dropped his head into the curve of her neck. “Please, baby,” he whispered into her skin like a prayer. “Come back to me.”
He felt a shudder run through her body, and then another. Hope flickered in his belly as her scent changed, the acrid animal smell dispersing and the sweet clean scent of his own Marie coming to the forefront. He looked up to find her brown eyes locked on him. She turned her head away and closed her eyes as tears leaked out from under the lids. “Logan,” she said, and he enveloped her in his arms, shaking with relief.
“I’m here, darlin',” he said. “I’m here, I’ll take care of you. Stay with me.”
He held her close, hushing and soothing in a way that seemed both entirely foreign and yet completely natural to him. For long hours he held her, tracking her scent as she fought the battle in her head, racked with emotion after emotion -- sorrow, anger, fear, despair.
Finally her scent changed again, her body twitching restlessly in his arms. “Marie, baby, what’s wrong?” he asked.
She pushed free of his grasp, standing up to pace beside the bed. Her eyes remained clear and brown, but her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides and her movements were still characterized by that unnatural feline grace. “I don’t know,” she said. “I itch,” she said finally, arching her back and rubbing it against the wall. “I want...” she trailed off.
“What do you want, baby, I’ll get it for you,” Logan said.
“I don’t know,” she said, helplessly. “I just...I feel...everything. I smell...everything. I’m crawling out of my skin, I can’t stand it.” Again she stopped pacing, rubbing her back against the wall, but this time her hands traveled up over her body as well, and she shivered.
Her eyes snapped open, and she pinned him with the force of her gaze. “I want to fuck,” she said. “I want to fight. I’ve just...I can’t stand it. I’ve got to get out of here.”
She moved toward the door, practically hissing at Logan when he intercepted her. “Get out of my way, Logan,” she snarled.
“You’re not leaving this room, Marie,” he said. “Not like this. Not until you’re yourself.”
“Oh, I’m myself,” she snapped. “And I’m taking myself outta here, if I have to take you down to do it.” He leaned back against the door and folded his arms over his chest.
“Just try it, baby,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes, and aimed a punch at his belly. She was unnaturally strong and fast but so was he, and he managed to deflect her blow, catching her arm. She kicked at his knee, and he stepped aside, causing her to fall up against him. She lost it then, throwing her body against him, clawing and kicking. “Fight me, damn you,” she huffed as he deflected and contained her assault easily. She managed to head-butt him hard in the ribs, knocking the breath out of him.
“Damn it, Marie,” he wheezed, pinning her arms to her sides and pushing her up against the door to restrict her range of motion.
Suddenly, she was no longer fighting him. Her hands still ranged over him, but this time rubbing, caressing, instead of punching and scratching. She ran a lean leg up his, looping it around his waist to press herself closer. “Logan,” she breathed. “Touch me, Logan.”
Logan closed his eyes, steeling his body against her. “Stop it Marie,” he said. “You don’t mean it.” Her hands found their way under his shirts, caressing his chest and making him shudder with longing.
“Yes I do,” she said, grinding her body into his. She practically climbed up his body to get to his mouth, throwing her other leg around his waist, and he automatically put his arms around her to keep her from falling. They both grunted as the sudden shift in her weight tipped him a little, throwing him hard up against her.
She twined a hand in his hair and took his mouth, slicking her tongue across his lower lip before diving in to kiss him hard and deep. He tried to pull back but she followed him, tightening her hand in his hair and kissing him ravenously.
Finally Logan leaned her hard against the door and got her pinned in place, her hands trapped tight between them under his shirts while his hand pushed her head down, trapping it at the crook of his neck. He felt her inhale hard, and then lick and bite him there, and his heart raced, lust roiling in his gut. He knew he had to get control of her soon, he was one step away from taking her hard up against the door.
“Marie,” he ground out, breathing hard. “Stop it, this isn’t what you want.”
“It is,” she said again, grinding her hips rhythmically against him now. “I want this -- I need this.” He shuddered again at the words, leaning his head against the door, trying to keep his body in control and think, but she was making it impossible. She pulled his head back and forced him to look her in the eye. “Don’t make me beg. You promised, Logan. You said you’d take care of me. This is what I need,” she pleaded. “It hurts,” she said, closing her eyes against tears of humiliation.
Christ. He buried his head in her neck and inhaled, searching his senses for the golden-eyed stranger, or some indication that she was playing him, anything to strengthen his resolve. All he sensed there was Marie, and naked wanting, and the shadow of the fear of rejection. He made up his mind. “Okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”
He felt some of the tension leave her body. She threw her head back, resting it against the door, still grinding herself against Logan. He traced his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her skull as he licked and nipped at her lips, pulling back to keep the kiss teasingly gentle as she tried to take control. “Easy, darlin’,” he said.
He tilted into her body, meeting her firmly, and slipped a hand inside the open neck of her button-down shirt to cup her full breast, nipple taut against his palm. That was all it took and she came hard, shuddering against him uncontrollably, limbs tightening around his body, her honeyed voice gasping his name.
He tamped down hard on his own reaction, the sight and sound and smell of her coming almost sending him over. He desperately tried to think of other things to slow his heartbeat and catch his breath, gathering her up against him and carrying her to the bed.
He lay down and settled her soft weight atop his body, still breathing hard. She curled up against him, quiet for only a moment before lifting her flushed face. “I want more,” she said. “I want to touch you, Logan. Let me.” Her hands came under his shirts again, and he let her pull them up over his head. She ran her hands over his chest and neck.
Logan threw his head back, drinking in her touch, hissing with pleasure as she carelessly brushed over his nipples. Acutely attuned to his response, Marie’s attention focused in, and she nuzzled his chest and then licked his nipple into her mouth, sucking gently. Logan groaned, helplessly arching up against her. She began to move against him again, sucking and licking, and then biting gently, causing him to buck up hard against her.
She traced her hands down his belly, starting to dip one inside the low waist of his jeans. “No, baby,” he said firmly, holding her hands still, then drawing them back up to his chest. She shook her hands free.
“I want to,” she said, running the heel of her hand firmly down the hard ridge pressing against the front of his jeans. Logan felt like he was gonna cry.
“Shhh...” he said. “Just let me take care of you, darlin’.”
He rolled them over, pinning her hands up over her head. He pulled apart the edges of her shirt, popping the rest of the buttons free. He slid a claw out a fraction, relieved that the bite of pain gave him something else to focus on, and cut the front of her bra, springing it open. He rasped his tongue over her nipple and she immediately seemed to forget her objections, hands coming up to grasp the pillow behind her head as he licked and suckled.
“Logan,” she moaned. He unbuttoned her jeans and roughly pulled them down her legs, and she frantically kicked them the rest of the way off. He pressed a strong thumb against the wet front of her panties, rubbing a slow circle as he sucked deeply at her breast. Then he slipped his hand inside her panties, gently pushing two fingers into her wet heat, drinking in her gasps and the flush that spread across her damp skin.
She was making soft excited sounds as he drove her relentlessly to the edge. “C’mon, baby,” he urged. “Good girl, that’s it...come for me, darlin’.” She came apart again, writhing against him, hands clenching the pillow, hips jerking hard against his hand. He eased her down from the peak, licking gently at her breast, his hand circling and pushing into her softly, wringing every last sensation out of her until her eyelids fluttered.
He rested his head on her chest, feeling her heaving breaths and hammering heartbeat against his skin until she finally slowed and calmed. He smelled her tears again, and sat up, guilt sinking his belly. “Darlin’, are you all right?” he asked, scared to hear the answer. She nodded, closing her eyes against the tears, running her hands through his hair.
“It’s just good,” she said. “It’s too good.”
He sighed with relief, cuddling her against him. “Hush, baby,” he said. “It’s okay, I gotcha.”
He traced gentle circles on her belly, feeling her residual trembles beneath his fingers and then a new laxness in her muscles as she finally slipped into sleep. He pulled the blanket up over them both, keeping her close against his body, and tormented himself with doubts about how she would feel about it all in the morning.
The Wolverine & Rogue Fanfiction Archive
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Author's Chapter Notes:
The long-promised smut, hence the ratings change. Reviews are definitely appreciated. Also, if anyone wants to suggest a power for the mutant Rogue unwillingly killed in her lab flashback let me know, I'll try to work it into the story.
Chapter End Notes:
Aw, poor Logan. He deserves some kind of medal. He will be rewarded in future chapters. ;-)