"God," Marie breathed reverently into Logan's neck, shaken by what she'd seen and done, by how she felt and by the depth and breadth of what the bearded man had let her see in those final helpless moments. She was surprised and disturbed that he'd done that, and that she'd responded to it so viscerally. It felt a bit like how she'd always imagined it would be to lick a light socket. A rush so intense it shorted everything out in a shower of sparks and a jolt of power too strong to be contained.
To have that intimate connection with someone and to hold his eyes while also feeling that deep throbbing inside her as he gave himself to her in hot, shuddering spurts was almost more than she could wrap her spinning mind around. Marie couldn't help but imagine Logan looking at her the same way as he poured into her, holding nothing of himself back. What would that be like? They'd had walls and boundaries for so long. The idea of total freedom was as terrifying as it was compelling.
Her own body was humming with desire and she could feel Logan all around her, his body rigid, every muscle bunched and hard with tension. She was would equally as tight. She wanted to come, needed it, but she couldn't. Not here. Not even in this secluded little alcove. It didn't feel so safe now that the bearded man had invaded it with his intimate stare.
It was all too much, like some wild carnival ride that she couldn't get off of that kept spinning faster and faster. Her fingers tightened on Logan and she nestled deeper into the safety of his big solid body. He was warm and strong and safe. Feeling him that way made the rest of the world recede a little.
"I gotcha, darlin'." Logan's long fingers were still entwined with hers. It felt familial rather than prurient. She hadn't needed him that way in a long time and it felt good that it was still there for her, even now.
He didn't ask her if it had been too much. He could tell from her trembling and the way she'd pressed her face into him that it had. It sobered him, pulled him back from the edge. He'd wanted to open her mind a little tonight, not blow it completely. He was directly responsible for her discomfort and the weight of that settled unpleasantly in his belly, even as his body screamed for release. The Wolverine was somewhere in the mix too, making him more unstable, woken by the luscious scent of lust and need and innocence, and by the vulnerability in the small form clinging tightly to his chest.
The light winked out.
In the shadows, Marie could see the woman turn in the man's arms and he kissed her, smiling lazily as he collapsed into her embrace, catching his breath with a wide grin. They slid together easily in a decadent, sweaty tangle of limbs as their skin crawled with pleasant little aftershocks. The man took his time, unhurried and indulgent as he savored those intimate moments with his lover. A kiss to her sweaty temple. The brush of his fingertips along her spine. Her hand lightly cupping the heavy droop of spent flesh between his legs. The flash of a white smile in the darkness and his low purr of masculine contentment touched Marie in a way that his deep grunts of pleasure could not. A true moment of naked intimacy.
The leonine man pulled the woman up gently, making sure she had her balance before parting from her, though Marie didn't miss the flash in his eyes as they flicked down to the pearly trickle slowly running down the inside of his lover's thigh. Proof of their pleasure, and of his virility, too. The woman dropped his hat back on his head with a quiet laugh and they walked toward the edge of the stage, fingers linked and swinging hands like children on a dirt road back home.
Marie whispered a quiet 'thanks, sugar' into the darkness.
Logan rumbled a 'welcome' into her ear and across the room, the man touched the brim of his hat and Marie swore she caught a softly murmured 'ma'am' as the couple disappeared from view.
The trip home was a blur. Marie had a vague memory of Logan's sure hands zipping her into her coat before settling her onto the bike and pulling her close. The temperature had dropped. The bite of the wind was icy on her face but her body felt hot, tingly and wild, like a wildfire raging under her skin. She plastered herself to Logan's back and said nothing as he kicked the bike to life and guided her hands up under his jacket.
That felt different, too. Her fingers had the urge to move this time, but not to tickle him. This time she ached to sink them into the heavy bands of muscle and pull him close, to rub against him and dig her fingers into him and to feel the weight of his body pressing her down. She wanted to map his skin with her hands the way the woman had done to the man on the stage tonight. To open her legs and body to him. To make him shudder and hear the rough sounds of his pleasure and the softer rumbles of his satiation. To let him finally see all that she'd kept hidden for so long. Understanding burned brightly in her. How blissfully freeing to have her partner provide direction and the boundaries in which she was free to express herself.
A part of her was disappointed the night hadn't ended with her and Logan behind one of those closed red doors. Another part of her was glad. If they ever did give into this thing between them and make love, she didn't want it to be with any of his mutation filling her up. She wanted to feel it. To not heal instantly as he pushed in deep and took what was his. She wanted to be all of herself, only herself, with him. At least the first time.
The Rogue was curious and hungry for all the physical delights she'd been denied for so long. She wanted to explore how their mutations might work with and against each other to heighten their pleasure. That would be something new for them both, something they could explore and define together.
The bike roared under her. Fueled by what she'd seen tonight, Marie gave in to the fire in her blood and let her imagination run free, pressing herself against Logan's strong back and breathing him in deeply as the black highway disappeared beneath them.
Logan rolled the bike to a stop outside the school. Marie dismounted, stammering a little as she looked for the right words. "I— I..." Her cheeks were flushed and her body was loose and languid. Without the air rushing by, stealing away her scent, he immediately understood why. She smelled ripe and heavy with satiation.
While his lips curled knowingly, his blood burned. She wouldn't be the first woman to enjoy the rumbling of a heavy bike between her legs. He had thought he'd felt her shudder a few times on the ride back, but had chalked it up to the biting cold. Now he knew differently, and Christ, knowing she'd reached orgasm pressed against his body made him even more frantic for his own release.
He forced his voice into a carefully neutral tone. "You good, kid?"
"Very." That husky admission was out before she could stop it, sultry and low. He chuckled, but his fists clenched tight in reaction. She flushed a deeper pink and avoided his eyes. "I mean, yes. I'm fine. Thanks. I had a good time tonight."
That got her the raised eyebrow but what he really wanted to do was bend her over the bike and shove himself inside her over and over until her voice was husky like that from screaming her pleasure to the night.
Logan forced down the reply such a charged comment begged him to make, and he tweaked her ponytail softly. He had to fight to keep his touch light, casual. "It was fun, darlin'. Best time I ever had there, hands down."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He didn't elaborate. Their shared eroticism tonight was far more arousing than all the dirty things he'd ever done, and that list was long and filthy. The Wolverine had few limits, sexually or otherwise.
Marie squirmed a little under his intense scrutiny. His mouth actually watered.
God, he would probably smell her a county over. He knew that under her suede pants her panties would be slippery and warm, drenched from what she'd seen tonight and the number of times she had come on the bike, shuddering against his heavy body. His hand twitched with the urge to delve into that glossy heat, to spread the scent and slick of her over his fingers, and to bring it to his mouth. To hold her eyes while he licked the taste of her from his hand.
The scent was maddening, clouding his brain. It was difficult to think beyond how she'd feel around his fingers, fluttery and hot. Under her clothes, she was ready for him. Slippery and open. One finger wouldn't be enough for either of them. She'd need two. He'd use three. Open her up. Push her legs wide. Hold her down and make her come again and again. He needed to feel her squeeze down on him and to spread the new gush of wetness down his thick length to ease what was coming next. Logan shoved his hands in his pockets instead.
It didn't help. His fingers brushed against an unfamiliar texture, and it took a moment to place it. The feather the woman had tried to give him earlier. With that memory came another, inextricably tied. Marie's voice, clear and certain, claiming him. The memory of her tongue on his neck, bold and unapologetic.
Fuck.
He handed the feathery plume over wordlessly, thinking it would help. He couldn't stand any more physical stimulation right now, but the sight of her twirling it absently in her fingers was a hundred times worse. Her expression was painfully transparent now that the physical tension in her body had been released. He could see exactly what she was thinking and the imagined pleasure of using that feather with her that way made his skin crawl with lust.
"Are we good, sugar?"
He understood that she needed reassurance after what they'd experienced together tonight. "Real good." Whatever happened, she'd always be his to protect, but he needed to go. Right now.
"Sorry I freaked out a little there at the end. It was just a lot. So big and so much."
"S'fine. S'good havin' ya close. Nothin' wrong with workin' out where the hard edges are, kid." He took in a deep breath, trying to calm the fever raging in his blood. The chain keeping the beast leashed was slipping through his fingers. It wouldn't be long now.
She leaned in and gave his whiskered cheek a quick kiss. "Thanks, cowboy."
He had to stifle the low growl welling up in his chest. His lungs were filled with her, adding a razor edge to his desperate need. "You bet."
Marie stood there awkwardly, shivering in the silence.
Logan leaned up to kick over the bike and winced. He was painfully hard. His hand hesitated on the throttle of the bike, gripping tightly as he warred with himself. He knew better but the Wolverine didn't play by anyone's rules but his own. "How many times?" he rasped. "On the bike," he added at her look of confusion.
That damnable blush was back as she realized what he was asking.
"Three."
"Christ," he muttered, jaw clenching as he adjusted himself with a grimace. "Wait until tomorrow to come get the shit you left down at the house, huh?"
She nodded. Her pink face showed the interpretation she had put on his words. She had come. He desperately needed the same release. She thought he didn't want to be interrupted tonight, when the truth was even rawer than that.
He didn't trust himself to let her go twice.
Up next: True Colors. More than friends but not yet lovers. The Wolverine and the Rogue struggle to find a new way forward now that everything is different.
Author's note: I know, I know! I can hear the howls of displeasure from here. "No sex at the sex club, you evil little tease! WTF?! That's just not right!" To that I say a resounding, "Well, yeah! Y'all didn't really think it would be that easy, did you?" Heh.
You guys know me, though. The amount of time we spend in Nookietown is directly related to how long it takes us to get there. I assure you, my LoganMuse is doing his damndest to be sure you're not disappointed. I think this story is going to wind up near the 50 chapter mark (I have currently written 40 of those chapters) and I'm fairly sure a certain growly badass is going to insist on a return trip to the Red Door that ends much differently before all is said and done. Heh. It is me, after all. Onward!