"Scream for me". I had fucked plenty of men before, but I had never heard
anything so erotic. At the time when he said it, his hand around my throat,
I was too consumed by terror to take it in, but later, when I was back at
the mansion, and was able to think over what had happened, a wave of
sensuality swept over me. I replayed the incident in my mind, remembering
those burning dark eyes staring into me, into my soul. I suppose he knew
then what I only thought about later. I suppose that's why he didn't kill
me, but waited instead. He knew I was like him. Wild.
Images of him flashed through my mind. A savage animal trapped in a mans body, just like me. I felt jealous of him, of whose side he was on, who allowed him to be the animal he really was, free, uncontrolled.The professor wouldn't let me be like that. He was determined to teach me control, to subdue the anger in me, instead of releasing it heavenwards so that I could revel in the crashes of thunder and the bolts of lightening sparking around my body. I pretended to enjoy the fact I had this control, but I spent most nights in my bedroom crying, feeling trapped, wishing I was free again.
I imagined us two writhing on a bed, my naked body under his, forgetting control so I could be who I really was. I imagined climaxing, reaching orgasm, and as I did, he would whisper those words to me. "Scream for me".
I met him again in the Statue of Liberty. One claw gently stroked my cheek. The others saw it as a threat; I saw it as a loving embrace. "You owe me a scream". Was that all he wanted? I stared into those eyes. This time I was calm, unlike the incident in the train station. I saw the heat in his eyes, reflecting my own and I knew then that I had to be with him.
He was taken away from me. I thought him dead. I cried that night, a rainstorm raging outside, as I was unable to suppress my emotions. I couldn't let the others know. They would see my lust for him as betrayal. But it wasn't like that. I just had to be with someone who was like me, who would let me be myself. The professor noticed I was upset, but didn't question. Perhaps he thought the whole incident had shaken me.
When I saw that Mystique was alive, I felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps if she had survived, he had as well. I smiled when Scott swore loudly when he recognised her on the TV, though my smile was not for his outburst, but for the tiny flame of hope that was inside me.
I met up with Mystique the next week. I felt sick. If the others knew who I was meeting, I would never be able to face them again. This wasn't betrayal, I wasn't planning to help Magnetos' team, I just had to see Vic again.
I was actually surprised that Mystique had agreed to meet me. Maybe Sabretooth had told her about me? - I doubted it, but I wished that he did. It would show he was thinking of me, the way I constantly thought about him. But it was probably Mystiques' understanding of a woman who loved a man she was forbidden to have. Mystique agreed to help me. She wanted nothing in return except my silence. She, of course, would keep what happened a secret between us.
Mystique led me to their hideout on that day. I knew the others would worry were I was, and that I would have a lot to explain when I got back home, but now I didn't care. The professor's telepathic abilities were ineffective in Magnetos' hideout so he wouldn't be able to work out where I was.
Even though Magneto was stuck in a plastic prison, the rest of his team still resided here. They had all survived the night in the Statue of Liberty; Mystique, Toad and of course Sabretooth. Mystique led me down numerous cold, dark passages, not saying a word. She probably felt confused. What was she doing helping an enemy? Yet, this small symbol of trust between us could only mean well for the future. If Mystique and I could get along with each other, perhaps this signified the bridging of the divide between the 2 groups of mutants. I wish that could happen, then I wouldn't have to hide my feelings for the man I loved.
We eventually reached a room at the end of a passageway. The room, like all the others in Magnetos' castle was cold and modern looking. We stood in front of a steel door together and I looked up. A deer's head stared back down at me. There was a ring of rusty brown blood around its severed neck. Unlike most places, where the heads of dead animals were used to achieve a sense of superficial glorification, this suggested the power and strength of the man who resided in the room.
Mystique placed one blue hand on the door and gave it a gentle push. It slowly slid open, revealing the interior of the room. Rough wooden furniture, animal skins, the smell of blood. Mystique motioned with her other hand to me that I should enter the room. "He'll be sleeping now", she said and then left, leaving me alone in his room.
I looked towards the bed at the far end of the large room. He was lying on it, long blonde hair tangling around his face, curling down towards his bare shoulders, his body covered by a thin white sheet. He looked so peaceful lying there, nothing like the killer he really was.
I felt the bitter taste of panic rising in my throat. What if I had misjudged his actions and he didn't really want me? But as soon as the fears had entered my mind, they left. I knew he wanted me, just the way I wanted him. Two wild children of nature, one sick of playing the good girl, the other just looking for a good time.
I moved slowly towards the bed, feeling my breathing quicken. I stood at the head of his bed, wondering how to waken him without startling him. I noticed that a couple of those blonde locks had fallen over his face, obscuring those large eyes. Hesitantly I reached down to flick them away from his face when suddenly I found my lowering hand engulfed by one of his. His sharp claws lightly grazed my arm and the touch sent a bolt of electricity down my spine. I looked straight into his deep, dark eyes. Suspicion was written all over his face. "Sabre?" I whispered, "Vic?". He emitted a low, quiet growl, which made him sound like a cat purring rather than a lion roaring. The noise did something funny inside of me. The animal- like sound reminded me of the person I wanted to be.
I lowered my eyes from his gaze, and sat down next to him on his bed. As he released his hand from mine, and let his hand travel up to my neck and rest there, I felt my heart beating faster. He could easily kill me now, by slashing me open with those long, sharp claws or by gripping his hand around my neck and choking me to death, like he almost had done at the train station. But I knew he wouldn't, I knew he wouldn't hurt me.
I felt one finger slowly stroke its way along my cheekbone, caressing it gently, a touch that mean more to me than a kiss. I let out a sigh of contentment, I didn't realise he could be so passionate, so gentle.
Suddenly, his hand moved to the back of my head, the other to the small of my back and he pressed me down onto him, onto his lips. The kiss was warm and strong. I felt his tongue slowly slide into my mouth, sensuously gliding over mine. I licked my tongue over his teeth, over those elongated sharp canines. The animalistic feel of them sent an anticipatory shiver through my body.
We slowly broke away from each other's mouths. I leaned back and he snarled. I dared to glance into his eyes again. They were flashing, not with the lust for death, but with the lust for passion. I could feel the heat radiating of his body. I smiled. He reached up and ran a claw over my lips. "What ya smiling for?" he growled. "Because I have you", I replied softly. The faint hints of a smile flickered around the corners of his mouth, and he swiftly pulled me down on top of him.
I didn't even have to bother with getting out of my clothes. Those sharp claws quickly slashed through my clothes, grazing my skin enough to excite me but not to hurt me. My ruined clothes fell to the floor, and I briefly wondered what I was going to wear later, but as his tongue engulfed my mouth again, I lost all rational thought. The kiss was deeper and wetter than the last, and I didn't want it to end, but I didn't just come here to kiss him, so we broke away. I looked down into his lust filled brown eyes, and I knew what he wanted. It was exactly what I wanted
Slowly I peeled back the sheet away from his body. I gazed at his powerful shoulders, firm chest, down to where he wore only a pair of black shorts over his strong legs. I pulled of his shorts, delighting in the feel of his throbbing erection against my bare leg.
I was pulled down on top of him again, feeling my pulse quicken as he flipped me over on to my back. I whimpered as his strong hands stroked my face, my shoulders, my breasts. He lowered his mouth over them, his sharp teeth grazing them. I moaned as he let his animal instincts take over, biting down, drawing blood, which he carefully licked up. I put my hands in his hair, stroking the wild, wavy locks. I was sick of fucking good, clean guys. Now I wanted an animal.
His hands continued their descent, over my waist, hips, thighs, now in between my thighs, oh god. I arched as a finger entered me, stroking, massaging before leaving and being replaced with.
I moaned his name as he entered me, my hand clawing at his back, feeling the warmth of his blood as it trickled over my hands from the scratch marks I had made. I had wanted him so bad, and now I had him. My breath ripped out in rags as I nearly climaxed, but I was holding on, waiting.
He lowered his head, and I felt his mouth near my ear. "Storm", he whispered, "scream for me".
Images of him flashed through my mind. A savage animal trapped in a mans body, just like me. I felt jealous of him, of whose side he was on, who allowed him to be the animal he really was, free, uncontrolled.The professor wouldn't let me be like that. He was determined to teach me control, to subdue the anger in me, instead of releasing it heavenwards so that I could revel in the crashes of thunder and the bolts of lightening sparking around my body. I pretended to enjoy the fact I had this control, but I spent most nights in my bedroom crying, feeling trapped, wishing I was free again.
I imagined us two writhing on a bed, my naked body under his, forgetting control so I could be who I really was. I imagined climaxing, reaching orgasm, and as I did, he would whisper those words to me. "Scream for me".
I met him again in the Statue of Liberty. One claw gently stroked my cheek. The others saw it as a threat; I saw it as a loving embrace. "You owe me a scream". Was that all he wanted? I stared into those eyes. This time I was calm, unlike the incident in the train station. I saw the heat in his eyes, reflecting my own and I knew then that I had to be with him.
He was taken away from me. I thought him dead. I cried that night, a rainstorm raging outside, as I was unable to suppress my emotions. I couldn't let the others know. They would see my lust for him as betrayal. But it wasn't like that. I just had to be with someone who was like me, who would let me be myself. The professor noticed I was upset, but didn't question. Perhaps he thought the whole incident had shaken me.
When I saw that Mystique was alive, I felt a glimmer of hope. Perhaps if she had survived, he had as well. I smiled when Scott swore loudly when he recognised her on the TV, though my smile was not for his outburst, but for the tiny flame of hope that was inside me.
I met up with Mystique the next week. I felt sick. If the others knew who I was meeting, I would never be able to face them again. This wasn't betrayal, I wasn't planning to help Magnetos' team, I just had to see Vic again.
I was actually surprised that Mystique had agreed to meet me. Maybe Sabretooth had told her about me? - I doubted it, but I wished that he did. It would show he was thinking of me, the way I constantly thought about him. But it was probably Mystiques' understanding of a woman who loved a man she was forbidden to have. Mystique agreed to help me. She wanted nothing in return except my silence. She, of course, would keep what happened a secret between us.
Mystique led me to their hideout on that day. I knew the others would worry were I was, and that I would have a lot to explain when I got back home, but now I didn't care. The professor's telepathic abilities were ineffective in Magnetos' hideout so he wouldn't be able to work out where I was.
Even though Magneto was stuck in a plastic prison, the rest of his team still resided here. They had all survived the night in the Statue of Liberty; Mystique, Toad and of course Sabretooth. Mystique led me down numerous cold, dark passages, not saying a word. She probably felt confused. What was she doing helping an enemy? Yet, this small symbol of trust between us could only mean well for the future. If Mystique and I could get along with each other, perhaps this signified the bridging of the divide between the 2 groups of mutants. I wish that could happen, then I wouldn't have to hide my feelings for the man I loved.
We eventually reached a room at the end of a passageway. The room, like all the others in Magnetos' castle was cold and modern looking. We stood in front of a steel door together and I looked up. A deer's head stared back down at me. There was a ring of rusty brown blood around its severed neck. Unlike most places, where the heads of dead animals were used to achieve a sense of superficial glorification, this suggested the power and strength of the man who resided in the room.
Mystique placed one blue hand on the door and gave it a gentle push. It slowly slid open, revealing the interior of the room. Rough wooden furniture, animal skins, the smell of blood. Mystique motioned with her other hand to me that I should enter the room. "He'll be sleeping now", she said and then left, leaving me alone in his room.
I looked towards the bed at the far end of the large room. He was lying on it, long blonde hair tangling around his face, curling down towards his bare shoulders, his body covered by a thin white sheet. He looked so peaceful lying there, nothing like the killer he really was.
I felt the bitter taste of panic rising in my throat. What if I had misjudged his actions and he didn't really want me? But as soon as the fears had entered my mind, they left. I knew he wanted me, just the way I wanted him. Two wild children of nature, one sick of playing the good girl, the other just looking for a good time.
I moved slowly towards the bed, feeling my breathing quicken. I stood at the head of his bed, wondering how to waken him without startling him. I noticed that a couple of those blonde locks had fallen over his face, obscuring those large eyes. Hesitantly I reached down to flick them away from his face when suddenly I found my lowering hand engulfed by one of his. His sharp claws lightly grazed my arm and the touch sent a bolt of electricity down my spine. I looked straight into his deep, dark eyes. Suspicion was written all over his face. "Sabre?" I whispered, "Vic?". He emitted a low, quiet growl, which made him sound like a cat purring rather than a lion roaring. The noise did something funny inside of me. The animal- like sound reminded me of the person I wanted to be.
I lowered my eyes from his gaze, and sat down next to him on his bed. As he released his hand from mine, and let his hand travel up to my neck and rest there, I felt my heart beating faster. He could easily kill me now, by slashing me open with those long, sharp claws or by gripping his hand around my neck and choking me to death, like he almost had done at the train station. But I knew he wouldn't, I knew he wouldn't hurt me.
I felt one finger slowly stroke its way along my cheekbone, caressing it gently, a touch that mean more to me than a kiss. I let out a sigh of contentment, I didn't realise he could be so passionate, so gentle.
Suddenly, his hand moved to the back of my head, the other to the small of my back and he pressed me down onto him, onto his lips. The kiss was warm and strong. I felt his tongue slowly slide into my mouth, sensuously gliding over mine. I licked my tongue over his teeth, over those elongated sharp canines. The animalistic feel of them sent an anticipatory shiver through my body.
We slowly broke away from each other's mouths. I leaned back and he snarled. I dared to glance into his eyes again. They were flashing, not with the lust for death, but with the lust for passion. I could feel the heat radiating of his body. I smiled. He reached up and ran a claw over my lips. "What ya smiling for?" he growled. "Because I have you", I replied softly. The faint hints of a smile flickered around the corners of his mouth, and he swiftly pulled me down on top of him.
I didn't even have to bother with getting out of my clothes. Those sharp claws quickly slashed through my clothes, grazing my skin enough to excite me but not to hurt me. My ruined clothes fell to the floor, and I briefly wondered what I was going to wear later, but as his tongue engulfed my mouth again, I lost all rational thought. The kiss was deeper and wetter than the last, and I didn't want it to end, but I didn't just come here to kiss him, so we broke away. I looked down into his lust filled brown eyes, and I knew what he wanted. It was exactly what I wanted
Slowly I peeled back the sheet away from his body. I gazed at his powerful shoulders, firm chest, down to where he wore only a pair of black shorts over his strong legs. I pulled of his shorts, delighting in the feel of his throbbing erection against my bare leg.
I was pulled down on top of him again, feeling my pulse quicken as he flipped me over on to my back. I whimpered as his strong hands stroked my face, my shoulders, my breasts. He lowered his mouth over them, his sharp teeth grazing them. I moaned as he let his animal instincts take over, biting down, drawing blood, which he carefully licked up. I put my hands in his hair, stroking the wild, wavy locks. I was sick of fucking good, clean guys. Now I wanted an animal.
His hands continued their descent, over my waist, hips, thighs, now in between my thighs, oh god. I arched as a finger entered me, stroking, massaging before leaving and being replaced with.
I moaned his name as he entered me, my hand clawing at his back, feeling the warmth of his blood as it trickled over my hands from the scratch marks I had made. I had wanted him so bad, and now I had him. My breath ripped out in rags as I nearly climaxed, but I was holding on, waiting.
He lowered his head, and I felt his mouth near my ear. "Storm", he whispered, "scream for me".