She had no idea how long they stayed at the wall, kissing, and clinging to each other, but eventually, Sabretooth pulled away slightly. On his face was a look of unabashed lust. She could see that now. It wasn't a homocidal urge she had seen so many times before, but desire. Ororo couldn't imagine what expression she wore herself, so overwhelmed she was by the feelings enveloping her.
"Let's move this party over a few feet." He lifted her off the wall, and tranferred her to the edge of the bed. He squatted down to take his shoes off. Mimicking him, Ororo leaned over to do likewise only to be stopped by his hand. "I'll do that. Just give me a minute." Ororo stared at him in awe. Sabretooth's hands carefully untied her laces, and slid off her shoes and socks. Then, tipping forward onto his knees, he ran his hands up the sides of her legs up to the clasp on her shorts.
Suddenly, she felt self-conscious. "Victor, I'm muddy."
His eyes scrolled down her length. "You're not that muddy."
"Well, I'm also sweaty from having hiked around all morning."
He looked up at her with a predatory smile. "You say that as if it's a bad thing." Her groin stirred, and she felt light-headed. But she held her ground. "Let me just wash up really quickly." She glanced over to the bathroom door and gave him a shy smile.
"No," he refused, and returned to unfastening her shorts.
"Please, Victor. We'll get dirt all over the sheets." He gave her a look that said, "Why would I give a shit about that," but he seemed to sense her discomfort, and yielded slightly.
"You can go rinse off the mud." He pulled her up but gripped her ass with both hands. "Don't keep me waiting."
Slipping into the bathroom, Ororo paused to take some deep breaths. Never would she have guessed that she would be in this position with Victor Creed. Sabretooth. She couldn't wrap her mind around it, any of it, not her feelings, and not his behavior. It almost seemed that he...cared. But that can't be.
"I don't hear any water." Sabretooth's booming voice rattled the door.
"Just a minute!" Ororo shook her thoughts out of her head. She wasn't going to figure this out now, not standing in the little cabin bathroom. There was a toilet, a sink, and steel tub. From the looks of things, there was only cold water available. She turned the faucet, stripped quickly, and steeled herself for the shock of the water. It was cold. She scrubbed off any spots of dried mud she could find, and then reconsidering, began washing herself more thoroughly. Grabbing a cracked bar of industrial-style soap that had been left at the sink, she started washing her face, her neck, feet, under her arms, between her legs. Although she was moving quickly, she heard footsteps toward the door.
She dropped the soap and grabbed the only towel, clutching it in front of her just as he opened the door. He looked down at the soap abandoned at the bottom of the tub, and gave her a frown. "You're done," he said, and then moved toward her, lifting her with ease out of the bath. He leaned down and, apparently smelling the industrial soap, jerked his head up in distaste. "Now, why'd you have to go and do that for?" Ororo opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He grunted and then swept her up in his arms and carried her back into the main room.
He didn't put her down once they reached the bed, choosing instead to examine her from up close. Ororo felt his gaze like a weight pressing against her. His tongue darted out, licking his lips. The grip of his hands increased until she began to feel his claws dig into her flesh and she took in her breath sharply in anticipation of the cuts. He stopped, hearing the sound of her breath, and relaxing his grip, put her down carefully.
Standing her at the foot of the bed, he looked away briefly as if to regain his composure. She stood there nervously clutching her towel, shivering as a draft blew across her wet skin. The involuntary movement drew Sabretooth's attention, and when he looked back, his eyes fixed lustily on the towel Ororo held before her. In a blink, he tore the towel away from her, and seeing Ororo's naked form before him, let out a growling moan as his eyes rolled back in his head. It only lasted for an instant, though. She hardly had time to feel self-conscious before he was upon her, pushing her down to the bed. His mass was tremendous, filling her field of view. He pressed himself down onto to her, his knee slipping back between her legs and his tongue into her mouth. For a few luxurious minutes, they recreated their earlier entanglement in a new horizontal position.
But then as if remembering Ororo's naked form beneath him, Sabretooth abandoned her mouth and shifted slightly to his left side to give himself a better view. Supporting himself on his left elbow, he held her wrists above her head with his left hand and surveyed her body as if she were a feast and he the king deciding what first to eat. Ororo trembled with anticipation and looked up at him bashfully. He stared her down unflinchingly, and reached out with his right hand to caress her body. Where the tips of his fingers went, the tips of his claws followed. Soft and hard trailed in pairs across her skin.
She was exposed and vulnerable, dominated and restrained, and yet paradoxically she felt protected, liberated. Powerful emotions swelled in her chest, and she felt a lump harden in her throat. What is happening to me? I...I need him. Sensing the pricks of forming tears, she closed her eyes, not wanting him to see.
Awash as she was in sensation and feeling, she barely heard him gasp, but such an unexpected sound coming from Sabretooth popped her eyes back open. He was staring in amazement at her abdomen. Where his fingers met her skin, strange glowing wisps had accumulated.
"What is that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
She looked up in at the man who had triggered such a reaction in her. "It's St. Elmo's fire." When he gave her a quizzical look, she smiled gently and said, "I won't go into the physics of it, but it occurs in highly charged atmospheres." A shadow of a smile graced his lips. "And it's very, very special."
His fingers continued to trace patterns around her stomach, patterns now illuminated by a blue electrical light. He moved up to her breasts and almost smiled again when he saw the glow remain on her nipples even as he slid his fingers away. "So," he began tentatively, "does this usually happen to you? When you're with men, I mean." He was looking away from her face preventing her from reading his expression, not that he was easily read even when in full view. "No," she answered softly, tilting her chin up to kiss a cheek that she couldn't quite reach, her breath just grazing his skin. The sensation turned his head, and a trace of uncertaintly revealed itself in his features. She smiled again and said, "It has never happened before."
The words seemed to catch him off guard, and he stared at her meaningfully as if again trying to determine the truth, and she stared back, hoping that he saw it. Then the uncertainty disappeared and he was kissing her again, his right hand first cupping her cheek, then sliding progressively downward. She felt his hand glide across her breasts, her abdomen, down over her mound, finally slipping between her thighs. She moaned as he pushed her legs further apart and ran his claws lightly up and down their length, and then slide over the outer lips of her vulva.
She felt him separating her lips and begin to slip his fingers in when she tensed and sucked in her breath harshly. He pulled back and frowned questioningly. "Your claws," she whispered. "You'll cut me."
His face softened. "I won't cut you." He held up his clawed hand so she could see he had retracted them to small nubs. "Trust me?"
A few hours prior, it would have been an absurd request for him to make to her, but now Ororo found herself nodding willingly. His hand found its way back between her legs, and two thick fingers found their way inside of her. The hard nubs rubbed and pressed into her walls, somehow finding her network of nerve endings like a needle riding the groove of a record. "Oh, Goddess. Oh, Goddess, Victor." He withdrew the fingers, and slid the hard calluses of the ball of his hand across her clit. He then repeated, sliding his fingers back inside of her.
It was an explosion. She had never seen stars before her eyes, but flashes of light now confused her vision. She forgot to kiss him. She simply lolled her head back as waves of pleasure broke over her. Her juices flowed freely, running down to the sheets below her. Her tears flowed freely, too, creating glinting rivers out of the corners of her eyes. She hadn't wanted him to see, hadn't wanted to expose herself that much, but she had lost all control. A tumult of emotions raged inside of her. I want him. This can never work. I want him. He can't possibly care about me. I want him. Oh, Goddess, his hands. Then all coherent thought departed, leaving her in the tempest of her ecstasy.