Disclaimer: Characters contained within do not belong to me. I repeat. The characters contained within do not belong to me.
Author's Notes: More thanks. I'm glad I got the right blend of Tobasco sauce in the last chapter;) I hope you keep enjoying!
****
Manumission
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
I can feel the emptiness inside me
Fade and disappear
There's a feeling of contentment
Now that you are here
I feel satisfied
I belong inside
Your velvet heaven
Did I need to sell my soul for pleasure like this
Did I have to lose control to treasure your kiss
Did I need to place my heart in the palm of your hand
Before I could even start to understand
It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
-Depeche Mode
****
"Ah don' have any basis for comparison, sugah…but Ah think yer really good at this."
Remy chuckled and looked over at the woman lying on her back next to him amidst the hopelessly wrinkled sheets. "You pick up fast yourself, chere."
"Jus' makin' up for lost time." She flipped over onto her bare stomach and kissed the center of his chest. "Ah love kissin' ya. Yer so warm."
"Dat's 'cause you been puttin' dis Caj'n t'rough his favorite kind o' exercise for de past hour."
Rogue nipped playfully at his navel. "Wanna make that another hour, sugah?"
"Mon Dieu above…I went an' created a monster." His smile was sated and wide. "Give Gambit jus' a minute. Dere be no cause t'rush, chere."
As soon as the words left his mouth, her mood plummeted. "But there is, Remy. We gotta rush. It's…" She threw a glance at the clock. "Almost midnight."
He combed his fingers through her tousled curls, and urged her up to meet his mouth. In between kisses, he told her, "I intend t'be wit' you 'til de last second we get, chere. But half o' bein' wit' someone be w'at we got righ' here. Jus' bein'." Remy ran his hands down her smooth sides to cup her bottom. "Jus' touchin'."
"An' Ah'm all for that," she assured him, closing her eyes at the sensations he elicited. "Ah jus' don' wanna waste a second of what we got." Rogue reached behind and took his hands. Crawling over his body, she pinned his arms above his head. The voodoo charm hadn't negated her strength; he found himself pretty much at her mercy, not that he was about to start complaining.
She kissed him, hard and hot, and immediately he felt the familiar beginnings of arousal. Mutant powers…they weren't always a curse. Any ordinary man would have withered away when Rogue took his sex in her hand; Remy just found the patch of skin behind her ear that drove her crazy and blew on it. "You be playin' dirty, chere…Gambit play dirty back."
"Ah'll show ya dirty, swamp rat." As she worked him over, Rogue lowered her head and clamped her teeth around one brown, flat nipple. Hearing him hiss in pleasure was reward enough. "Now shut up, an' let me love ya."
"Dat's my delicate magnolia," Remy laughed, lifting his head to watch as she trailed her mouth down to where her hand stroked.
Things were just getting interesting when a loud rumble broke through the haze of their lovemaking. One hand across her flat belly, Rogue sat up. Still underneath her, Remy struggled to do the same. "Chere?"
She bit her lower lip, still rosy and full from his kisses. "Ah think my stomach's tryin' to tell me…we never ate dinner."
He laughed again, flopping back down onto the bed. "No, dat we didn'." Remy looked up at her, his eyes sparkling. "My stomach tell me de same t'ing."
"Ah guess there's gotta be a pizza place still open," Rogue mused, climbing off of him. "Do we got a phonebook 'round here?"
Naked, Remy followed her across the room and into the little attached kitchenette. "Dere's a better idea den dat." He grabbed her around the waist from behind; his arms crossed her chest, each hand cupping a pert breast as he kissed the nape of her neck. "Let's go out, chere."
Her knees weakened at his touch, but she managed to say, "Where do ya plan on goin', sugah? Ain' no place good open this late."
"Au contraire," Remy chuckled. He released her with a final kiss to her bare shoulder. "Get dressed. Gambit show you w'at else we do in dis city after de sun go down."
****
The Café Du Monde had been a staple of his youth. With one pocket-picked, he'd been able to afford an order of beignets and often even a cup of chicory coffee, which he preferred, even as a boy of eight, to milk. The open-air restaurant had been serving the same things for over a hundred years by then, and even now, as he and Rogue approached Decatur Street, he could tell that it hadn't changed a bit from the place he remembered.
"Open every day, chere, 'cepting Christmas. All day, every day." They seated themselves at a small table looking out over the dark waters of the mouth of the Mississippi. "Dere not a number high enough t'count how many times I been here."
His voice sounded almost wistful, something she'd never heard on the rare occasions when he would talk about his youth. "Always at nigh'?" she asked, winking.
"Sometimes…it be better t'hide in a lit-up place den in de darkest alley," Remy replied. When a waitress noticed them, he called her over. "We get two orders," he told the young girl. "Wit' café au lait for de lady, an' coffee for me."
"Comin' right up."
When the waitress bounced away, Rogue shook her head at him. "Orderin' for me again. Ah feel like a kept woman."
"Not kept, chere." He reached for her hand, and Rogue felt just a little bit easier about letting him take it, knowing that she's stuck Naquin's charm in her purse before they left. Just in case. "Treasured."
"So smooth," she commended him. Embers smoldered in the centers of his eyes. Rogue found herself looking away. He put too much love into that look, made her feel too wanted. If she stared too long, she'd either have to grab him and have at it on the table, or just burn to death. "Tell me one other happy memory ya have 'bout yer childhood."
He drew away, leaning back against his chair with casual indifference. "If we playin' show an' tell…you do de same, chere."
"All right," she conceded.
After a moment of thought, Remy leaned forward on his elbows and picked up a packet of sugar from the container between them, rolling it between his fingers like he did a card he was preparing to charge. "One time, during de Mardi Gras parades, de Guild got…well, we jus' say a nice catch o' de tourists money." She rolled her eyes, and he continued, "Dere was ano'ter boy 'bout my age…fifteen at de time dis happened. Me an' Jacques, we hit de streets, not for more, but jus' t'take in de party. Lassez les temps bons rule." He stared at the little sugar packet. "Tonigh' we dance, tomorrow we fast. But Gambit did a bit more den dancin' dat nigh'."
Her silence prompted him to go on. "Dere were femmes all over….girls no more older den us. Everybody drinks, chere. Don' matter how old. Jacques found us a pair, still sober enough t'be fun. We took dem t'de best hide-out we knew an'…" Remy trailed off, and gave her a half-smile. "Dere's a first time for everyt'ing, oui?"
The story didn't make her mad, only the fact that for an instant, she was insanely jealous of that nameless, faceless, drunken teenage girl who'd gotten to him first. "That's it, sugah? That's yer best memory??"
"Won' dis nigh' be yours?"
If the waitress hadn't come by with their food, she might have thrown something at him. As it was, the scent of chicory and freshly fried donuts crept into her senses, making her forget everything but her hunger. Rogue glared at him as she grabbed a beignet and took a huge bite. "Yesuhjerswamra."
"Oui," he replied as if he'd understood her perfectly. "Gambit can be de wors' kind o' jerk. But…" Remy reached out and used his thumb to wipe powdered sugar off her lower lip. "Dat's only his best memory from de childhood. Tonigh' go down as his best memory ever."
She swallowed as a hot rush of satisfaction swept over her whole body. "All 'bout the sex," she mumbled, sipping her half-milk, half-coffee and successfully burning her tongue.
Remy shrugged and chewed. "Your turn, chere."
"Best memory from my childhood." Rogue took another sip. "The day Ah left it behind." He gave her a look, and she went on, "Seriously. Ah didn' like being a kid. Didn' have any control over who took care o' me, or how they did it. Mystique did her best…I guess…but it wasn' like she baked me cookies every day or came to see me in the school play. Actually, that's not her fault, 'cause Ah never stayed in school long enough to get cast in any plays."
He chuckled, and nodded his agreement. "De Guild taught me everyt'ing I ever needed t'know. I sometimes t'ink, t'ough, dat if I had t'do it all over again, I would go t'school. Dere's a lot o' t'ings dis t'ief don' know 'bout dat he'd like to."
"Ah'd only go to school if Ah could be livin' at the mansion at the same time. That's the only place Ah've ever felt safe." Rogue played with her beignet. "'Course…that's 'til Ah found myself in bed with ya."
Remy took her hand again, this time raising her fingers to his lips. He sucked one sugary digit into his mouth, using his tongue to clean away every trace of sweetness. Rogue watched with hooded eyes as he repeated the process until every finger was sugar-free. "Eat up, chere. De don' taste good cold, an' if I don' get you back t'dat bed soon…"
She nodded and picked up her donut with trembling fingers, while he drained his coffee. The arousing combination of food and sex surprised her. "Sheesh…now Ah know why Jean an' Scott never stick 'round for a whole meal."
****
They ran through the Vieux Carre, splashing through puddles left by the rain, laughing and kissing until they reached their private little courtyard. Once they were on the other side of the gate, Remy decided he'd waited for her too long. Pushing her up against the ivy-covered wall, he used one hand to urge her legs apart, knowing full well that she'd neglected to put anything on underneath her skirt when they went out. The other hand tore at his belt buckle and zipper.
Rogue managed to keep her purse on her shoulder even when his hot girth slammed into her. Throwing her head back, she wrapped one leg around his thigh, urging him even further and harder. He complied, grasping her soft hips underneath her skirt as he thrust. Remy sucked at her neck, his slight stubble scratching her, but somehow making it even better.
She opened her eyes and looked up through the overhanging willow tree. The clouds had cleared and the moon had come out to bathe the city in a celestial glow. How many people, she wondered, would ever get to make love with their soul's mate, in the middle of the French Quarter, by the light of a full moon? How lucky was she to be one of them?
The explosion came minutes later, and all they could do was hold onto each other as their breath evened out. It was after one in the morning, and dawn wasn't that far away.
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: More thanks. I'm glad I got the right blend of Tobasco sauce in the last chapter;) I hope you keep enjoying!
****
Manumission
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
I can feel the emptiness inside me
Fade and disappear
There's a feeling of contentment
Now that you are here
I feel satisfied
I belong inside
Your velvet heaven
Did I need to sell my soul for pleasure like this
Did I have to lose control to treasure your kiss
Did I need to place my heart in the palm of your hand
Before I could even start to understand
It's only when I lose myself in someone else
That I find myself
I find myself
-Depeche Mode
****
"Ah don' have any basis for comparison, sugah…but Ah think yer really good at this."
Remy chuckled and looked over at the woman lying on her back next to him amidst the hopelessly wrinkled sheets. "You pick up fast yourself, chere."
"Jus' makin' up for lost time." She flipped over onto her bare stomach and kissed the center of his chest. "Ah love kissin' ya. Yer so warm."
"Dat's 'cause you been puttin' dis Caj'n t'rough his favorite kind o' exercise for de past hour."
Rogue nipped playfully at his navel. "Wanna make that another hour, sugah?"
"Mon Dieu above…I went an' created a monster." His smile was sated and wide. "Give Gambit jus' a minute. Dere be no cause t'rush, chere."
As soon as the words left his mouth, her mood plummeted. "But there is, Remy. We gotta rush. It's…" She threw a glance at the clock. "Almost midnight."
He combed his fingers through her tousled curls, and urged her up to meet his mouth. In between kisses, he told her, "I intend t'be wit' you 'til de last second we get, chere. But half o' bein' wit' someone be w'at we got righ' here. Jus' bein'." Remy ran his hands down her smooth sides to cup her bottom. "Jus' touchin'."
"An' Ah'm all for that," she assured him, closing her eyes at the sensations he elicited. "Ah jus' don' wanna waste a second of what we got." Rogue reached behind and took his hands. Crawling over his body, she pinned his arms above his head. The voodoo charm hadn't negated her strength; he found himself pretty much at her mercy, not that he was about to start complaining.
She kissed him, hard and hot, and immediately he felt the familiar beginnings of arousal. Mutant powers…they weren't always a curse. Any ordinary man would have withered away when Rogue took his sex in her hand; Remy just found the patch of skin behind her ear that drove her crazy and blew on it. "You be playin' dirty, chere…Gambit play dirty back."
"Ah'll show ya dirty, swamp rat." As she worked him over, Rogue lowered her head and clamped her teeth around one brown, flat nipple. Hearing him hiss in pleasure was reward enough. "Now shut up, an' let me love ya."
"Dat's my delicate magnolia," Remy laughed, lifting his head to watch as she trailed her mouth down to where her hand stroked.
Things were just getting interesting when a loud rumble broke through the haze of their lovemaking. One hand across her flat belly, Rogue sat up. Still underneath her, Remy struggled to do the same. "Chere?"
She bit her lower lip, still rosy and full from his kisses. "Ah think my stomach's tryin' to tell me…we never ate dinner."
He laughed again, flopping back down onto the bed. "No, dat we didn'." Remy looked up at her, his eyes sparkling. "My stomach tell me de same t'ing."
"Ah guess there's gotta be a pizza place still open," Rogue mused, climbing off of him. "Do we got a phonebook 'round here?"
Naked, Remy followed her across the room and into the little attached kitchenette. "Dere's a better idea den dat." He grabbed her around the waist from behind; his arms crossed her chest, each hand cupping a pert breast as he kissed the nape of her neck. "Let's go out, chere."
Her knees weakened at his touch, but she managed to say, "Where do ya plan on goin', sugah? Ain' no place good open this late."
"Au contraire," Remy chuckled. He released her with a final kiss to her bare shoulder. "Get dressed. Gambit show you w'at else we do in dis city after de sun go down."
****
The Café Du Monde had been a staple of his youth. With one pocket-picked, he'd been able to afford an order of beignets and often even a cup of chicory coffee, which he preferred, even as a boy of eight, to milk. The open-air restaurant had been serving the same things for over a hundred years by then, and even now, as he and Rogue approached Decatur Street, he could tell that it hadn't changed a bit from the place he remembered.
"Open every day, chere, 'cepting Christmas. All day, every day." They seated themselves at a small table looking out over the dark waters of the mouth of the Mississippi. "Dere not a number high enough t'count how many times I been here."
His voice sounded almost wistful, something she'd never heard on the rare occasions when he would talk about his youth. "Always at nigh'?" she asked, winking.
"Sometimes…it be better t'hide in a lit-up place den in de darkest alley," Remy replied. When a waitress noticed them, he called her over. "We get two orders," he told the young girl. "Wit' café au lait for de lady, an' coffee for me."
"Comin' right up."
When the waitress bounced away, Rogue shook her head at him. "Orderin' for me again. Ah feel like a kept woman."
"Not kept, chere." He reached for her hand, and Rogue felt just a little bit easier about letting him take it, knowing that she's stuck Naquin's charm in her purse before they left. Just in case. "Treasured."
"So smooth," she commended him. Embers smoldered in the centers of his eyes. Rogue found herself looking away. He put too much love into that look, made her feel too wanted. If she stared too long, she'd either have to grab him and have at it on the table, or just burn to death. "Tell me one other happy memory ya have 'bout yer childhood."
He drew away, leaning back against his chair with casual indifference. "If we playin' show an' tell…you do de same, chere."
"All right," she conceded.
After a moment of thought, Remy leaned forward on his elbows and picked up a packet of sugar from the container between them, rolling it between his fingers like he did a card he was preparing to charge. "One time, during de Mardi Gras parades, de Guild got…well, we jus' say a nice catch o' de tourists money." She rolled her eyes, and he continued, "Dere was ano'ter boy 'bout my age…fifteen at de time dis happened. Me an' Jacques, we hit de streets, not for more, but jus' t'take in de party. Lassez les temps bons rule." He stared at the little sugar packet. "Tonigh' we dance, tomorrow we fast. But Gambit did a bit more den dancin' dat nigh'."
Her silence prompted him to go on. "Dere were femmes all over….girls no more older den us. Everybody drinks, chere. Don' matter how old. Jacques found us a pair, still sober enough t'be fun. We took dem t'de best hide-out we knew an'…" Remy trailed off, and gave her a half-smile. "Dere's a first time for everyt'ing, oui?"
The story didn't make her mad, only the fact that for an instant, she was insanely jealous of that nameless, faceless, drunken teenage girl who'd gotten to him first. "That's it, sugah? That's yer best memory??"
"Won' dis nigh' be yours?"
If the waitress hadn't come by with their food, she might have thrown something at him. As it was, the scent of chicory and freshly fried donuts crept into her senses, making her forget everything but her hunger. Rogue glared at him as she grabbed a beignet and took a huge bite. "Yesuhjerswamra."
"Oui," he replied as if he'd understood her perfectly. "Gambit can be de wors' kind o' jerk. But…" Remy reached out and used his thumb to wipe powdered sugar off her lower lip. "Dat's only his best memory from de childhood. Tonigh' go down as his best memory ever."
She swallowed as a hot rush of satisfaction swept over her whole body. "All 'bout the sex," she mumbled, sipping her half-milk, half-coffee and successfully burning her tongue.
Remy shrugged and chewed. "Your turn, chere."
"Best memory from my childhood." Rogue took another sip. "The day Ah left it behind." He gave her a look, and she went on, "Seriously. Ah didn' like being a kid. Didn' have any control over who took care o' me, or how they did it. Mystique did her best…I guess…but it wasn' like she baked me cookies every day or came to see me in the school play. Actually, that's not her fault, 'cause Ah never stayed in school long enough to get cast in any plays."
He chuckled, and nodded his agreement. "De Guild taught me everyt'ing I ever needed t'know. I sometimes t'ink, t'ough, dat if I had t'do it all over again, I would go t'school. Dere's a lot o' t'ings dis t'ief don' know 'bout dat he'd like to."
"Ah'd only go to school if Ah could be livin' at the mansion at the same time. That's the only place Ah've ever felt safe." Rogue played with her beignet. "'Course…that's 'til Ah found myself in bed with ya."
Remy took her hand again, this time raising her fingers to his lips. He sucked one sugary digit into his mouth, using his tongue to clean away every trace of sweetness. Rogue watched with hooded eyes as he repeated the process until every finger was sugar-free. "Eat up, chere. De don' taste good cold, an' if I don' get you back t'dat bed soon…"
She nodded and picked up her donut with trembling fingers, while he drained his coffee. The arousing combination of food and sex surprised her. "Sheesh…now Ah know why Jean an' Scott never stick 'round for a whole meal."
****
They ran through the Vieux Carre, splashing through puddles left by the rain, laughing and kissing until they reached their private little courtyard. Once they were on the other side of the gate, Remy decided he'd waited for her too long. Pushing her up against the ivy-covered wall, he used one hand to urge her legs apart, knowing full well that she'd neglected to put anything on underneath her skirt when they went out. The other hand tore at his belt buckle and zipper.
Rogue managed to keep her purse on her shoulder even when his hot girth slammed into her. Throwing her head back, she wrapped one leg around his thigh, urging him even further and harder. He complied, grasping her soft hips underneath her skirt as he thrust. Remy sucked at her neck, his slight stubble scratching her, but somehow making it even better.
She opened her eyes and looked up through the overhanging willow tree. The clouds had cleared and the moon had come out to bathe the city in a celestial glow. How many people, she wondered, would ever get to make love with their soul's mate, in the middle of the French Quarter, by the light of a full moon? How lucky was she to be one of them?
The explosion came minutes later, and all they could do was hold onto each other as their breath evened out. It was after one in the morning, and dawn wasn't that far away.
****
To Be Continued
