Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me. I just play around with them.

Author's Notes: Thanks for the sweet feedback. It took me awhile to write this, balancing what I wanted to write with what I could get away with on this site. I feel that there's nothing in this chapter that wouldn't be perfectly acceptable in an R-rated movie these days, and isn't that the rating system we're going by? If, however, you don't like this sort of thing, feel free to skip this chapter and wait for the next. Really, you won't offend me;) Thanks!!

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Unexpected

by Kristen Elizabeth

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He touched her with a thief's hands, delicate enough to pick the most complicated lock, but tough enough to repel off the side of a building. It was funny, she thought as he laid her down onto the bed, how he didn't immediately go the most obvious routes in his path of exploration. In fact, she was still clad in the matching scraps of black lace, and he'd only briefly stroked her in the places they covered.

Instead, Remy's hands found sensitive areas she hadn't even realized were such. He smoothed his fingers up the flesh of her inner arms, across her ribs, over the flat plain of her belly and down her outer thighs and calves. She lay prone beside him, her breath heavy, catching every few seconds when he discovered a new spot. Her collarbone, her knees, her feet…his touch was hypnotizing. And, she feared, addicting.

He had to touch her, had to memorize every inch of flesh before it was too late. Remy had never been a hasty lover, but he had to force himself to go slow, to cherish each second, but even more important than that, to make her comfortable, to make it wonderful for her. If her muted gasps and shivers were any indication, he was succeeding so far.

She was so soft, and so sensitive after years denied any such contact. He felt like he was opening up a whole new world for her, but also for himself. Had he ever been so solely focused on his partner's pleasure before? Just as he wasn't hasty, he'd never been greedy, but he couldn't remember being with any other woman before Rogue, and caring this much about what they were feeling, not even his own, young wife.

But Belladonna hadn't been innocent on the night of their joining; in so many ways, Rogue was more mature, more experienced and more powerful than his former love. But she had one gift to give that no other woman had ever saved for him. And he wasn't about to take it for granted by pushing too hard, going too fast, frightening her with aroused he was.

"Chere," he whispered, her foot between his hands. He massaged it with strong thumbs, marveling over the perfect arch and the gleam of red paint on each nail. "W'en dis Caj'n first meet you, he t'ink he be blessed if you be in his life only for a day." Remy kissed her ankle. "But you been here so long now…" His mouth found the inside of her knee. "…he can't 'magine his life wit'out you."

Rogue plunged a hand into his hair when he reached her inner thigh. His breath was hot against the lace that covered her. His fingers sought the tiny straps holding it up on her hips, but she tugged on his thick locks. "Remy…Ah wanna touch ya."

He slid up her body, realizing that in his quest to be selfless and give her touching, he'd been selfish in not letting her touch. She deserved both halves of what she'd been so long denied. As he looked down into her eyes, smoky green with the erotic haze that had settled over them, Remy nodded. "Oui, chere." He kissed her softly, letting her take the lead. Her tongue darted into his mouth, silky and insistent. As the kiss grew deeper, he half-rolled, half-let her push him over until he was lying on his back.

She attacked his shirt buttons first, never letting her lips leave his as she pushed each through its eyehole until a long strip of his exquisitely muscled chest lay exposed. He wanted to laugh as she struggled to un-tuck the shirt from his black pants, but she was still kissing him, her forehead scrunched up in adorable effort as she tugged at the stubborn cotton.

Finally, she ripped it free and immediately her hands slid between the shirt and his chest. Remy bucked when her fingernails caught his nipples, scratching with innocent abandon. She drew back. "Ah'm sorry! Did Ah hurt ya?"

All he could do at first was shake his head. After clearing his head, he let his hands settle on her waist, urging her up. When they were both sitting in a tangle of legs on the bed, Remy stripped off his shirt the rest of the way. "Dat's better," he said, a twinkle in his eye. Laying back down, he tucked his hands underneath the back of his head. "Go on, chere."

She flashed him a wry smile, but it was impossible to chastise him when his tanned, toned torso was displayed in front of her. Rogue licked her lower lip, nervous for a split second. What was she supposed to do? What would make him feel good?

As if reading her mind, or at least picking up on her emotions, he lifted his head and told her as assuredly as possible, "Men, amour, be very easy t'please. Dere's almos' not'ing you could do dat wouldn' feel good."

Straddling his hips, Rogue propped her fists up on her own. "Ah'm gonna take ya up on that, sugah."

"T'ank de merciful god above…" he said just under his breath. It was the last coherent thought he had as she leaned down and kissed his neck, running her tongue along his Adam's apple and down the center of his chest.

When she reached the dark trail of hair that led down from his navel, Remy decided that it was better to be selfish than be tortured to death. Her kisses had progressed into nibbles and licks; she picked up instantly on what was pleasurable, and walked the fine line of pain so well that he wanted to grab her shoulders and plunge into her without finesse.

"Tell me, chere," he breathed as he gently hauled her up on his level again. "Tell me if dere anyt'ing I do dat you don' like…"

She nodded, closing her eyes as their mouths met again. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as he flipped their positions once more. Everything seemed to happen in an instant. His fingers unhooked her bra with the dexterity that could be expected of the best thief in the world. She barely even felt it until suddenly her breasts were pressed against the warmth of his chest. His hands found them without warning, molding and reshaping until neither of them could take it anymore, and he dipped his head to take each rosy crest into his mouth.

Her nails dug into his upper back, and suddenly the discomfort of still wearing his pants became equally unbearable. Remy released her nipple with a soft sucking sound and took her hands in his, entwining their fingers. He urged her to pull at his belt, helping her unfasten the buckle and push down the zipper. Rogue glanced down between their bodies; all she could see was black underneath black with a grey elastic band, all covering the hardness she'd felt pressing into her thigh only seconds earlier. He didn't need to guide her to touch it; she'd been curious for years. Not about the male body…god knew that if you hung around the X-Men in combat long enough you were bound to see more of your teammates than you probably wanted to…but about his body specifically. There were stories centered around him, gossip and assumptions that circulated throughout the mansion which she couldn't help but wonder about. And now, as she hooked her hands around his pants and shorts and pulled with numb fingers, speculation became knowledge. And the rumors…they underestimated him.

Remy kicked off his pants, and now the only thing that separated them was the tiny triangle of lace that covered the apex of her thighs.

"Take 'em off, sugah," she told him softly, but without hesitation.

He trailed a hand down her side. Watching her eyes, he let the full length of his palm slide underneath the fabric and through her thatch of curls, cupping her sex. Her eyes grew wide. "Wet like silk," Remy whispered.

She heard the fabric tear, and momentarily lamented the wasted money, but that was before she felt him nudging her legs apart. The ruined underwear had been worth every single penny.

On the brink of everything they'd both wanted for years, Remy stopped cold. "Chere…"

Rogue looked up into the worried, red centers of his eyes. "It's okay," she told him. "Takin' birth control's jus' kinda routine for us gals on the team, even if some of us don' really…" She gasped when he gently bit into the crook of her neck. "…need it. Remy…don' stop again…or Ah really will kill ya."

"Don' want t'be hurtin' you," he murmured.

"Ya won't," she said as he gently surged into her. Her mouth fell open for a second, before she bit into her lip. It was more pressure than pain, the feeling of being stretched and plundered. She closed her eyes, and held onto his body, trying to relax.

He couldn't think for several minutes, and it amazed him that his body kept going without any higher brain functions commanding it. Fortunately, because he could feel how tense she was beneath him, his baser instincts stayed subdued, and he advanced into her with smooth, slow ease. When he couldn't go any further, he focused and looked down at her.

Tears leaked down her cheeks from her tightly shut eyes. Panic hit him square in the chest. "Rogue," Remy said. "W'at's de matter?! It hurt…too much, chere? Gambit go too fast…"

He cursed himself and prepared to back off, but she shook her head. "No…no, sugah." Her wet lashes lifted and at the very centers of her emerald irises, he didn't see pain, but pure joy. "Ah'm fine, Remy. Ah just…Ah've never really felt part o' anythin' before. Not even the X-Men." She kissed his lips, brushing them with her tears. "But Ah'm part o' ya now. An' yer part o' me. An' Ah…" A sob caught in the back of her throat. "Ah don' wanna lose this."

There wasn't anything he could say to make reality fade away, even for that moment. They were going to lose what they had right then. But not, he thought, for another ten or eleven hours.

Holding himself up with his elbows, he brushed stray strands of hair off her face. "Den…we gonna make dis nigh' imposs'ble t'forget. Oui?"

Rogue smiled and nodded. He was so solid between her thighs, but perfectly so, like they'd been designed to be joined with each other. The pressure was letting up, and when he moved, a hot spike of pleasure hit her. "Yeah," she gasped. "Ah love ya, sugah."

He didn't reply until much later, when she was resting in the warm circle of his arms and the breeze from the open windows was drying their tangled, perspiring bodies. Remy pulled her back even tighter against his chest and held onto her fiercely. "Je t'aime, chere. Por toujours."

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To Be Continued