Les Liaisons Dangereuses
By: Nicole Wagner: The Deadly Gambit
Summary: After a thrilling heist, Gambit and Joelle decide to let loose. But something more than our handsome Cajun gets Joelle off. Told from Joelle's point of view.
Rated: M due to sexual situations and the nature of the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own Gambit or Joelle. Marvel does. I do not make any profit from writing this story. It's just for the sheer fun of the fandom that I do. Please don't sue me.
His scent is just as intoxicating as a fine wine. His skin is quite soft, until you feel his hand about your nude waist. The sign of a talented thief. He's picked many locks in his day, and unsnapped just as many bras as well. There was something about the thrill of knowing you are doing something wrong, something forbidden or frowned upon by society that was such a turn on.
Perhaps it was just the notion of taking something that was not yours in the first place. A few hearts, treasures of all kinds, money, grades, it did not matter. It was a high unlike any other. No drink or drug could compare to how he felt when he stole a Picasso or a large diamond. Having a beautiful woman working to steal with him just increased that high.
Within seconds of returning from that heist, clothes were practically torn off, lips hungrily moving along one and other, calloused hands moving along silken skin. The only time his lips moved away was when he gave out a gasp for air. He acts like a man who has been without a good woman for ages. But I doubt he is the sort who dates a good ol' "Mary Jane". No, he's a thrill seeker, an addict to what most would deem dangerous and forbidden in this world. I suppose that is what drew him to me in the first place.
But while a difficult pinch and a beautiful woman is arousing for him, I need a little more. Just as his lips begin moving along my neck, my hand is working to undo his belt. Just as his pants begin to fall, my hand reaches into the pocket of them to "borrow" his phone. He's either too blinded by pleasure or thrill to notice that I have done this. Or maybe he knows and does not care, Remy LeBeau is a hard man to judge, sometimes.
While he is busy running his tongue and lips over my breasts, I'm moaning and looking through his phone. An interesting number keeps popping up under "friends". No man is just a "friend" with a woman. I learned this the hard way in life. Maybe she would like to hear what I am getting, what he is doing. Let her hear that he is mine this night and not hers. I click on that odd little name in his phone book, then hide the phone under the pillow behind my head.
"Rogue"
What kind of sad little woman uses such a name, anyway? It doesn't matter to me, really. I'm already getting worked up on the thought of her hearing us. Listening to how he groans when he thrusts inside of me and how I cry out in the pleasure of it all. Eventually I grow bored of him doing all the work. So I manage to use my legs to flip Remy on to his back on the large bed, and begin to ride him.
I can't help but wonder what his "friend" on the other line is thinking. Jealousy? Anger? Maybe horny? It excites me, the danger we could be in if they decide to walk in on us is making my head dizzy with ecstasy. And he's oblivious to it all, probably thinking his dick alone is making me get off so quickly. I can feel his hands grasping my hips a bit tighter, his breathing picking up more. We're both so close. Just a little more.
He's muttering some Cajun French. Lord only knows what he's saying, but I can tell he is getting close. Sex like this never lasts long. Thieves work quickly in everything they do, including sex. You are always looking over your shoulder, wondering if you will be caught by the police, a rival, or even a jealous lover. But that is what gets me off. Just the thought of those scenarios pushes me over the edge and I am screaming like some harlot.
A few moments after I came, he reaches his climax giving out a loud groan, and his back arching a little on the bed. It takes him a few moments to calm down and relax, laying back on the bed as though he has no care in the world. We're both panting, covered in sweat, and looking just a complete mess. I managed to lay down on his body, keeping him still inside of me for now. I wonder how his "friend" feels about this. I just screwed Remy LeBeau in ways I doubt she could ever conceive. Just thinking about how jealous she would get made me smile.
"Was it dat good for you, Chere?" he asks me, still panting.
"You have no idea how good it was."
