Marie was on her knees; Logan stretched over her back his teeth bearing down on her shoulder, and their fingers tangled and grasping the curled edges of the claw-foot tub as he thrust into her, the sound of their naked flesh squelching along damp, porcelain accompanying the sound of water splashing onto the tile floor. Logan had been pounding into her like this for most of the night and into the day. Hard, rough thrusts reaching deep inside her testing her body’s limits and Marie loved it.
“Jesus, Sugah,” she keened; as he thrust so deep he brought her off her knees, “Gawd!”
They hadn’t slept a wink, but she wasn’t tired; her pilfered healing factor giving her the stamina to keep up with Logan’s appetites. He’d been inside her in one form or another since he claimed her the night before and all Marie could think was, “More!”
Logan had been gentle a good deal of the time, but there was something about the tub that had set off his more feral side. She thought it had something to do with his diminishing scent on her skin; he hadn’t minded her need to bath, he’d even carried her into the bathroom and feasted on her spread thighs as the water filled the tub.
It was only after she’d slide into the hot water and begun to run the washcloth over her body that he’d growled, his eyes dark. In a flash he’d had her on her knees and impaled on his cock as he pinned her in place with his bulk and the sharp bite of his teeth.
He’d come once already and she’d come twice, but he kept up his frantic pace and Marie writhed just as wantonly beneath his pinioning hips. Pleasure spiked through her and she felt a hollowing need to bite down on his flesh; mark him with her teeth. Turning her face into his bicep she bit down hard as she came; her inner muscles milking Logan’s straining cock. When he came it was with a mighty, animalistic roar that was only muffled by her shoulder.
________________________________________
Remy entered the bed and breakfast at half past eleven and was met with Nae-Nae’s Cheshire grin, “Mornin’, cher, what put such demon gleam in your eye so early in da-,” his question was interrupted, by a familiar southern voice screaming, “Jesus, Sugah,” and a few seconds later it was followed up with, “Gawd!”
“Day be good mojo,” she laughed at Remy’s startled face, “Day been tuppin’ like dat all through da black and slept not a wink, me”
Remy frowned, as he thought on her words and the same lilting southern drawl demanded, “More!” He was a man that knew how to enjoy himself a woman, but he didn’t have it in him to grasp the possibility of keeping pace with Wolverine. He found himself worried for the petite fille as what Remy could only describe as an animal roar echoed through the hotel.
“You t’ink the petite fille be okay,” he asked, his frown deepening as the rhythmic sound of bed springs creaking and headboard thumping accompanied the sounds of the delicate thing screaming, “Harder, Jesus, Gawd, Logan, please!”
“Le Bon Dieu, she sound near dead,” Nae-Nae snickered, “Wish Ah die so good, me,” She poured Remy a cup of coffee and dirtied it up with a splash of bourbon; carrying it to him she set a plate of piping hot beignet, powdered with sugar, in front of him. “Nae-Nae read da bones, her, and d’em say Remy gonna be meetin’ him own petite fille, tout suite, but d’er be some heavy-heavy comin’ first.”
Remy frowned into his cup; Nae-Nae’s words causing an ache somewhere in the region his heart should be. Lifting a beignet in salute, he grinned, boyishly at Nae-Nae, “dôn put d agree gree on ol’ Remy; dare be-“
“Dôn do dat,” Nae-Nae smacked the back of his hand with her spoon making him drop the fried dough; her eyes were fierce when he met her obsidian gaze “You got an ahnvee, a longin’ inside you chest, beb, Nae-Nae see it, me. Remy
not a bonne home, cher, no chu-chut. Dôn be pretendin’ you not be wantin’ to be wed, dat you be vieus garcon all you days. Mon garcon ain’t just a t’ing dem fille play wit! You be makin' good very good livin’ wit' da thievin'.”
“Dat dôn matta at all, nâ-nân, Remy set in him ways he ain’t gens, gettin’ older, him!” Remy frowned, across the table at Nae-Nae, she had the look in her eye that said she wouldn’t be giving up anytime soon and that Remy was a fool if he didn’t take heed to her words of wisdom. “Love be like cache-et-fete, hide and seek, to Remy.”
“Din you be canaille, is you not a t’ief or is? If’n love be hid you chercher, look high an’ low ‘til you get eyes on da bebette. Din you vay-yay wit’ da girl, tell what dreams Remy got an' what him t'inks, you. She see da real Remy an’ she be content.”
Remy sighed as he swallowed his cooling coffee. Nae-Nae seemed to think he should search for love that it was out there waiting for him but Remy knew the truth; there was something inside him that was broken. His own parents had abandoned him; left Remy to fend for himself and when his mutation had manifested his second family, the thieves guild, had rejected him, as well.
“Look la petite fille,” Nae-Nae exclaimed and Remy looked up to find, Marie standing in the doorway with a large smile on her face. “Sit, Nae-Nae cook diner for you and da loupgarou, tout suite.”
“What’s a loupgarou,” Marie asked Nae-Nae, a puzzled look on her face.
“Dat man o’ yourn like a…What da word, Remy?”
“Ah believe the word you are lookin’ for is werewolf,” Remy smirked.
“Sure, but sexy, him, wit’ dat smile,” Nae-Nae laughed as she started to fry up sausage and bacon.
Marie approached the table and Remy noticed that she was careful to sit three seats away from him, but once she was seated she spoke, “Good mornin’, Remy, we ain’t kept ya waitin’ too long have we?”
“Not long, mais beb, Remy was just vay-yay wit’ Nae-Nae to pass de time.” Remy smiled, and nudged his half eaten plate of beignet toward Marie, “You look peaked, cher, you be needin’ to keep up your strength.”
Marie froze and her eyes widened as a blush stole across her cheeks and down her neck; she looked mortified and for a moment Remy felt guilty. “Remy didn’t know the peeshwank had it in ‘im, but he be glad to see you still kickin, petite beb, all dat screamin’ Remy t’ought da dead be wakin’!” It was a short moment.
“Stop,” Logan growled, and Remy could see his fingers fisting at his sides.
Remy watched as Marie gave Logan a come-hither grin, murmuring, “Well, Sugah, Remy’s got a point Ah think Ah saw god a time or two. So, maybe we did raise the dead.”
“Don’t know about god, baby, I was watching an angel.” Remy almost choked on his beignet. Looking at Logan right then, with that sappy smile it was hard to believe he was a badass; a glance at Marie confirmed she was beaming at Logan as if he’d just hung the moon.
“Do Remy a favor,” he snorted, “you be shootin’ him if he go spoutin’ clichés, tout suite!”
“You be sittin’, Logan, Nae-Nae be cookin’ and you be eatin’!”
Logan crossed the room and took the seat closest to Marie; immediately he pulled her chair closer and she snuggled into his arms. Remy thought if she were a cat she would be purring the way Logan stroked her. He didn’t think he’d seen Logan touch anyone as much as he did Marie; if she was in reach Logan’s fingers, hand or leg was caressing her.
Nae-Nae served up a feast for kings and both Logan and Marie put enough away to feed most of the city. After the food was finished they sat around the table discussing the coming conflict. “Remy gone and sent dix, uh- dat be ten, men to meet up wit’ your Phoenix.”
“She ain’t his,” Marie growled. Remy sensed there was history there and decided against commenting when Logan leaned in and murmured in Marie’s ear soothingly, massaging the nape of her neck.
“Ah be gonna go wit’ you,” he nodded at them as he twirled a playing card in his left hand. “Da be in contact when da got what be needed.”
“Good,” Logan nodded, “you can hold your own in a fight and that school is full of milquetoast. Don’t get me wrong; some of them have skill but they won’t go for the kill. Professor Xavier bred it out of them I guess you’d say.”
“Remy know about de X-men,” he challenged Logan’s assessment, “Day don’t seem so afraid.”
“They aren’t,” Logan agreed, “I didn’t say they were afraid of conflict, I said they wouldn’t go for the kill; they’re afraid of the hard decisions.”
“You mean,” Remy understood, “day would surrender if need be to keep the body count low and da humans happy.”
“Exactly,” Logan growled, “You heard about Liberty Island?”
“Yeah, dat was some heavy-heavy, dat!” Remy and his den had been in New York during that whole event, world leaders loved their diamonds.
“Magneto, took Marie,” Marie laid her head on his shoulder and Logan shuffled his fingers through her hair the way Remy shuffled his cards. “She’s unique, my Marie, she was sixteen years old. Magneto and his group came after Marie and as you might guess I was pretty useless against his mutation. I watched the mission logs for that night, Xavier had Magneto; he had him! Sabertooth under Xavier’s control had Magneto by the throat, but Buckethead threatened about twenty humans by turning their own guns on them. When Xavier challenged him he fired one of the weapons and stopped the bullet just before the human was killed. Xavier released him; let them take Marie, use her in that damn machine, nearly kill her.”
“There were twenty humans at stake Logan,” Marie murmured.
“I don’t give a fuck, Marie!” Logan growled, pressing his forehead to hers. “Sabertooth could have snapped his neck, he’d have been dead instantly and both you and the humans would have been safe.”
“But the bullet,” she frowned.
“When Magneto released the weapons everything just fell to the ground,” Logan replied, wiping away a tear from the corner of her eye, “he’d stopped the bullet’s forward momentum; without his push it was harmless.”
“Remy got twenty men, him.” Nae-Nae spoke up pulling their attention to her, “How many there be, in dat school, you say? What can fight...?”
“Ten,” Logan sighed, “if we’re lucky and that is counting me and Marie.” The room was silent after that revelation. That was hardly an army and if what Logan said was true then it was going to get worse before it got better.
“I’ve been thinkin’,” Marie broke the silence with a tentative voice. “Logan ain’t gonna be of much use in a face to face with Magneto,” she patted his knee when he growled. “Ain’t your fault, Sugah.”
“We’ll pitch battle at more than one location,” Logan muttered. “Range it out keep him too busy to single me out.”
“Ah ain’t losin’ ya,” she slapped the table making dishes rattle. “Ah got a plan and Ah think it might work; so, stop your growlin’ and listen up.”
Remy thought for a minute that he was about to see a fight between the love birds, but a slow, proud smile curved Logan’s lips and he pulled Marie in for a devastating kiss as he murmured, “that was damned hot, Darlin’.” Marie giggled and then shoved the goofily smiling mutant away.
“So, what be da plan, petite fille,” Remy added the endearment just to piss off Logan, but it hardly dimmed the man’s smile.
“Logan and I,” Marie paused for effect, “Join Magneto’s side.”
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Author's Chapter Notes:
This has a lot of Cajun, which I garnered from reading on the net and some made up lingo as my research lead me to understand that different people in that region have different idioms and spellings for the same things. I tried to insure the sentences gave sufficient context to define the words. This is a short Remy POV to set the next leg of the journey in motion.