Awakening
A/N:Forgive my tardiness readers!! This is probably going to be a one shot, but depending on the response there may be more. Let me know what you think! A HUGE thankyou goes to my fabulous beta, the incredible Stars and Garters. This would not have been what it is without her!! Enjoy, and let me know what you think!!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. But her.
She had lived at the mansion all her life. Left on the step as a baby, even she was disgusted at the stereotypical start to life she had had. As a mutant, however, she supposed that there were few other options back then.
She drove away from her boyfriends place, and struggled to comprehend what had happened to her that night. She fought back the feeling of desolation inside of her, convincing herself that there was no reason for her to feel this way. It was not in any way significant, although being 18 and still a virgin was a little odd in some places. She just had not found a man she desired enough to sleep with. Tonight she had thought would be a step in that direction. She was wrong.
He had first appeared at the mansion when she was nine. And there were few men that had ever made such a favorable impression upon her. He had ignored her at first, brushing her off, unsure of how to talk to a child that young. Her power had finally brought her to his attention when she made the can of beer she was fetching for him explode.
She drove through the front gates of the Mansion, and around into the garage. Parking, she wished that there was some way she could warm herself, rather than just being able to warm others.
Despite the fact that there was molten metal and beer all over the kitchen, he looked at her then. Really looked at her, for the first time, the same look he had given few others over the years. Rogue, Jubilee, all young and in desperate need of guidance…Of a friend. And in her case, he winced, control.
She closed the door behind her quietly, wanting a drink to take the taste out of her mouth. She had let Dylan touch her tonight. Having been seeing each other for a month, she guessed it was time something of the sort finally happened. So, after she had made him come, she had lain there, and let him touch her, let him fumble underneath her clothes, and let him stroke inside of her. She had no illusions about what happened. He may have been satisfied by what had happened an hour ago, but she most certainly was not. He may have seen it as a step further in their relationship, but she saw it as another nail in the coffin.
He had watched her grow older, into her powers and into her own body. She was a delicate little thing, tiny. The older she got the less he liked the idea of sharing her with another. Still, he thought that he would have a few more years of her, of him being the one she went to. Apparently, however, for something as attractive as her, males were willing to look past the fact that the heat she could radiate from her hands could incinerate them in a second. In fact, it only seemed to excite many. From the moment she turned 14, she was no longer his. He could not look at her without seeing the woman she would become. And it alarmed him just how much an interest in her the beast inside of him was taking. So he made himself no longer available for her to come to, he made his absences more prolonged, and he kept his distance. And dwelling on it late at night did nothing to help him fall asleep.
She was so confused. She had been told that letting a man touch her the way she had let Dylan touch her tonight was supposed to feel good. Rogue had told her about how wonderful it was when Remy touched her like that, how incredible it was. So why had she merely tolerated it? Why had she have to fight so hard not to simply scorch him in her confusion? Why did she feel so at a loss now? She thought she had been aroused at the time, at least as close to aroused that she could feel with another person. So what had gone wrong?
The latest man in her life was not for her. He had decided that the second she came home smelling of him. She needed a dominant male, someone to care for her, and see to her needs. For she certainly didn't know what it was she wanted. In some situations, she was still as innocent as a child. The boy she was with could not give her half of what she needed. And he needed a drink before his mind continued down this road into more dangerous thoughts.
She opened the door to the kitchen, intent upon taking one of Logan's beers, to hell with the consequences. She wanted to go to bed, sure that she was just tired, and would surely remember how fabulous it must have been in the morning. She didn't bother with the lights, the soft glow from the hallway was enough to see her way to the fridge. She made her way over to it and as she pulled it open, the quick, cold light revealed the figure leaning against the sink. She jumped, almost letting the fridge close, before she realized it was only Logan.
'Good morning,' she said, trying to slow her heart beat after the shock of seeing someone else up at this hour.
'Mornin', he said, taking another mouthful of his beer.
He could smell the boy all over her, and it was driving him crazy. She looked very little in the half light of the kitchen. And she did not look happy. Smelling her past arousal, this confused him. He could not help himself.
'You don't look as happy as you should after being wit' someone,' he commented, leaning back against the sink. She didn't return his gaze, shrinking back from his intense scrutiny, as she hesitantly reached into the fridge, took one of his beers out and stood opposite him on the other side of the kitchen. She avoided his gaze, but held the beer before her. A challenge.
'You shouldn't be drinking that,' he commented further, a little surprised at her daring, but made no move to stop her. She knocked back as much as she could, before leaving the third-full can on the counter. His soft words made her start.
'What happened?' he asked quietly.
'Nothing,' she said quickly, turning her back to him. She didn't want to talk to him about this. The alcohol was telling her that he looked very good standing there by the sink. Too good. Wait. That wasn't the alcohol. That was all her.
'Don't lie to me,' he murmured. 'I can smell him all over you. What happened tonight?'
'What do you care, Logan? I haven't told you these kinds of things for years now. Why should I start now?'
He drew himself up, no longer leaning on the sink. 'He touched you, didn't he.' It wasn't a question.
'He touches me all the time Logan.' She tried to leave, but his words stopped her.
'Not like this he hasn't.' He said, louder this time, coming a little closer. There was still half the kitchen between them, but to her it was too close.
She reddened and tried to turn away. 'I want to go to bed.'
He watched her and remembered. The nine-year-old girl who once stood with the stunned look as she held an exploded can of beer … the 18-year-old woman who turned her eyes from him and now reached for his brew. The image of her, unhappy and frustrated by this fumbling boy exploded in his head. She wanted to go to bed. He was filled with her scent. He pushed forward.
'I can smell it. And him. He enjoyed himself,' he continued, a low growl creeping into the timbre of his voice, which remained alarmingly casual.
She avoided his gaze.
'Didn't like it?' he asked with a small smirk.
She shook her head, still not looking at him. He nodded, putting his empty beer down.
'You shouldn't be with a boy like that anyway.'
She met his eyes for the first time since she had walked in then, surprised. He had never passed judgment on any of the men she had dated before, simply staying silent on the rare occasion she talked about them.
'I…' she started, before taking a breath, and continuing, unsure of what was happening between the two of them. What it was about him, his questions, his very manner that put her so on edge tonight. What left her so confused. 'I though it was supposed…to feel…'
Logan nodded again, before taking another step closer. 'If you want it to feel good,' he murmured huskily, drawing so close that she was forced to back against the counter to put space between them, '…You need to let a man take care of you.'
He closed the small distance between them, and placed his hands on her hips, lifting her onto the counter.
He watched her intently, before sliding one hand underneath her skirt.
She simply stared at him, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted in surprise, and then desire as his hand stroked the inside of her thigh, underneath her clothing…her eyes drifted shut, and her hands gripped his arms, as he stroked inside of her, his hips forcing her legs further apart. His eyes remained open, his gaze fierce. Her grip upon him tightened, as he felt her grow slick under his gentle touch. He could smell her real desire now.
She could not speak, her attempts allowing nothing more than small sounds of need to slip past her lips. She was trembling, his arm around her, his hard body pressed against hers keeping her upright, as she did little more than hang against him, letting herself give in to the incredible sensations he was sending through her. Was this what Rogue felt with Remy? Was this what she was telling her about? It was so much more than merely good.
His free hand lifted her leg to wrap around his waist, holding it there, as he continued to torment her, one finger deep inside her, his thumb stroking….Oh God…
She arched against him then, her former pliancy gone, as she abruptly came, surprising her so much that all she could do was cling to him, burying her head in his shoulder to mute her cries as the most incredible feeling she had ever felt took hold of her. She shook, he could feel her trembling around his hand. His other arm pulled her body tightly to his.
When she finally stopped shaking, she lay boneless in his arms. His fingers left her, to rest on her thighs, pulling her hips against his, her legs around his waist, as he cradled her whole body to him. She was so very small.
Her breathing slowly returned to normal, and she forced her head from its place on his shoulder to look up at him, his gaze burning more than her hands ever could. Warming her.
Her phone rang, breaking the moment between them. Pulling it from her pocket, he read the caller ID. It was the boy. He cut the call off, before lifting her from the counter.
She looked at him, confused, her gaze questioning. What had tonight meant?
He noticed her looking at him, as he carried her out of the kitchen, and up the stairs. He saw the unspoken questions in her expression. He answered.
'He couldn't do that to you. He couldn't make you feel like this.'
She made herself speak. 'But what does that mean Logan? Where does that leave us?'
'Tha's easy, Darlin'. I'm keepin' you…'
A/N: let me know what you think!!