The sulphury bite of a match hissed into the darkness, casting a pool of warm orange light on the small table. Logan lit the wick of a short, fat candle and replaced the pillar of hurricane glass with a sharp tinkle. Lost in thought, he let the match burn too low and he cursed as it singed his fingers. He shook his hand sharply to snuff it out, wincing at the acrid scent that followed as he threw it into the fireplace.
The flames crackled hungrily, popping and snapping as the pitch in the dry logs sputtered and burned. The night pressed in around him, the sounds of the house familiar now to his ear. The creak of the floorboards under his feet. The subtle ticking of the water heating in the small tank in the closet. The rustle of the wind in the trees outside and the rattle of the glass in the windows as it buffeted the small house. It was at the same time cozy and empty.
He'd had a long walk tonight after Marie left, a melancholy introspective ramble through the trees. No trail to follow. No particular path in mind. Just the hum of the forest and thoughts of a girl still green on the vine. Logan thought of the wild dog he'd buried too, though even his random path gave the fresh grave a wide berth; some strange blend of respect and discomfort.
Thoughts of Marie were strong in his mind, as was her intimate request to make love to her without any barriers between them. The condom she'd given back to him was in his pocket. A small foil sliver that carried the weight of the world and clouded his thoughts.
Still, he recognized the place where they'd flown kites together than afternoon. Further in, he'd passed the place where he had hidden with Marie under a fallen log during a training exercise, talking until the moon rose high into the night sky. On the way back, he came through the stand of small saplings where he'd cut sticks to skewer their food to be cooked over the fire pit. The deck, too, held good memories as it came into view. Sultry summer nights and the smoky satisfaction of good bourbon and better company. Her scent and flavor and memory was deeply infused all around him.
The house was the same. Fixtures and finishes, sweat and laughter. She'd poured as much of herself into it as he had over the last year. Every part of it bore her intimate touch. The only thing that didn't yet carry her physical stamp was his body.
Logan took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he threw a few more thick logs on the fire so it would last well into the night. It was late and the house felt cold to him in a way that had nothing to do with the fire burning in the stone hearth.
His hands went to his belt. The metallic clink of the buckle sounded loud in the quiet as he flicked it open and drew it slowly from his jeans. He was setting it on the small table in the circle of warm light cast by the candle when the door opened and Marie stepped inside.
That gave him pause right there.
She'd never entered without knocking before. She'd never come to him this late before, either. She'd often stayed into the small hours of the morning, but in Logan's experience, barring emergencies, there was only one reason a woman came to a man at this hour of the night.
He stood rooted to the spot, blood rushing wildly in his ears while stared at her slender back as she slowly closed the door and locked it. For a moment he almost thought she might run, but then she turned and took a step towards him, meeting his eyes boldly. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. He looked at her then, really looked. Her face held an expression he'd never seen before. She'd changed too. She was wearing a soft brown wrap skirt and boots. Her ivory blouse was sheer enough that he could see something lacy underneath. She was still wearing his old cowboy hat and a leather jacket in deference to the evening's chill.
She closed the distance between them and slowly removed the hat, her eyes demurely on the floor now, before placing it carefully on top of his discarded belt.
An unmistakable sign.
Still, he said nothing. Logan stood there staring at her, half wondering if he wasn't imagining the whole thing. Need pulled every muscle and tendon in his body taut, stretching him to the breaking point.
Leaving the hat on top of the belt, she took that last step. She was so close now that he could feel the heat radiating off her body, the swirl of her skirt whispering against his legs. Her color was high and he could hear her heart thumping wildly. She was hesitant and yet fiercely determined.
She took a deep breath, lifting her hand to cup the side of his face with her naked palm. The touch was tender, her thumb stroking against his skin before she trailed her fingers along his hairy jaw, testing the texture of his heavy stubble first with her fingertips and then with the backs of her knuckles.
Logan's eyes flicked down to the hand on his cheek and then back to her face. He blinked slowly, that feeling of sliding down the rabbit hole more pronounced than it had ever been.
Marie slowly brushed the soft pad of her thumb over his lips, her eyes on his mouth as she moved closer still and pressed her lips to his. Her eyes drifted closed. His remained open. Watching. He felt the warm brush of her lips and then the softest flicker of her tongue, those little fingers still tenderly cupping his jaw.
She withdrew, just enough to catch his eyes once again, trying to read him. Would he stop her? Say something? Pull her closer? Logan did nothing, he simply stood there, held fast by shock and disbelief and a feeling so full and encompassing that it defied explanation. The small pause and momentary distance reset the clock on her skin as she reached for him again.
She cupped his jaw more firmly, curling her fingers under his ear while she pressed a kiss to the opposite side of his face, on the smooth skin just above his heavy muttonchops. Slender fingers tightened on his neck as her kisses slid lower, over his jaw and down his throat. Some protected by his hair, others not. For long moments, Logan simply accepted the intimate touch with quiet reverence. Even the Wolverine was humbled and still; a moment of clarity so pure it struck them both silent.
The soft kisses became more passionate as she realized he wasn't going to stop her or push her away. Logan's eyes slid closed as he finally gave himself over to the moment. His arms wrapped around her, big hands splayed wide over her back. A sign. Approval. Acknowledgement of her claim. She had finally come to him and chosen him for her own. She felt so slight in his arms, trembling under the spread of his fingers.
Her mouth left his neck before the buzz started and for long minutes they simply embraced each other and the knowledge of what was coming in the hours ahead. It was new ground for them both. They were used to the intimate exchange of words. Tonight there were none. Everything that needed saying had been said. Tonight it was simply touch and breath and two hearts beating wildly with everything they had denied for years.
For now, Logan was content to let her lead. He knew they had precious little time while he could still give her that and he wanted her to feel confident in her decision. Sure of her place with him before the Wolverine took that choice from them both.
They parted and she slowly shrugged out of her coat. Not provocatively. Not to tease. Softly, with joy shining out of her. Her hands were steady as she reached for the buttons on his flannel shirt. One Mississippi. Two. Three. Logan's gaze dipped down, drawn away from the smile in her eyes by the erotic hint of lace he could see under her blouse. It was a pretty top with a vintage feel — long fitted cuffs with a row of mother of pearl buttons that glowed in the soft light of the fire. Something she'd chosen specifically for this night. It invited a slow seduction from the man, or the whisper of sharp claws from the animal.
He crushed down the feral spire of primal heat that rose sharply under his skin. The Wolverine could go fuck himself tonight. Logan wanted her for himself, first.
Marie pushed his shirt from his shoulders with a shy smile that fired his blood more than an explicit come-on ever could. Her eyes touched his bare arms and the swell of muscles under his tank, but she didn't move. He caught her hands and put them on the hem of his undershirt, silently urging her to strip it from him. She hesitated at first and he could hear her heart speed wildly while she gathered her courage. That was a lot of naked skin all at once.
Logan waited. Watching. Surprised to find himself savoring these last few minutes as they shed their too-small skins and embraced something that was too big and wild to be neatly contained by lines in the sand or promises of what-if.
Marie drew his tank up and off, letting it trap his heavy arms above his head for a long moment while she looked at his body with frank appreciation; the way a woman looks at her lover. Her eyes raked over him hungrily, from the wild points of his hair to the thick furring on his chest. The sleek ripple of muscle. The pulse beating erratically in the hollow of his stubbled throat. The wide spread of flat, male nipples. The wiry hair under his arms and the narrowing of his waist where it disappeared into his worn jeans. Tight abs and ripped obliques and a tracing of thick veins that made her wonder if his cock would be the same. Thick and hot and hard. Powerful. Full of virile blood and savage primacy that called to an answering wildness in her own blood.
Their next kiss was wetter. Deeper. Slower. Logan kept his word, aware she wanted to be only herself with him tonight. He tried to fix that in his mind. She was trusting him to keep her safe. It wasn't romance she wanted from him. He'd wanted naked skin and she was trying to give him that, even though she didn't want her mutation drawing any of him into her. Tonight she wanted him inside her in a different way.
For now, it was a simple matter of lifting his mouth from hers and his hands from her skin for a brief moment before taking both again. Her tongue was as bold and impertinent as ever, moving against his now. Tasting him. Inviting him deeper. She suckled his tongue, giving him little nips between deep kisses. A wet slow glide of skin that made him wonder how he was ever going to pull himself from the slick clasp of her body later.
He'd been thinking a lot about her request to feel him inside her with nothing between them. He wasn't sure he could give her that. Not without pouring himself into her in every way. The buzz felt good. The rush of flowing into her was even better. Even the discipline it took to keep the Wolverine chained for the last two centuries seemed to pale in comparison. He wanted to try though, for her.
Her eyes were shining as she touched him, her hands on his waist. They both thought of that night on the bike and how her hands had been. Playful before the club. Needy afterwards. They were like that now, too. The heavy spice in her scent told him it wasn't tickling she had in mind tonight. She explored him with soft hands, seemingly unaware he was caressing her too, roaming touches over every bit of her that he could reach.
Logan welcomed the breather he got as they parted long enough for him to slowly unbutton the long row of tiny buttons at both of her wrists. His fingertips brushed her skin lightly there and he enjoyed her shiver as only a true predator could. They were both thinking of that night at the club and of the imprint of pleasure he'd put on her there with the cord he'd twisted from her scarf. He let his thumb linger, rubbing her wrist before circling it in the shackle of his strong fingers, but a reminder of that night was all he was after. Tonight was not a night for games of that nature.
He bent to toe off his boots and socks, ducking his head so she wouldn't see the flash of gold in his eyes and know how close he was to the edge. He knelt at her feet to remove her boots and felt the touch of her hand on his head, fingers sliding warm against his scalp as they pushed into his hair. He pressed his face against her soft belly and closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Her touch seemed to convey that she understood what he was feeling and she didn't fear it. She welcomed it.
Soon the growling wildness between them was too loud to ignore. His hands slid under the edge of her skirt to the zipper of her boot. The purr of metallic teeth and the rending of supple leather made him shiver as he thought of her body opening to his touch in a similar way. The sound was loud in the silence, almost pornographic against his ears as they bared themselves to each other, bit by bit.
Logan was slightly disappointed at first to feel tights under her boots. They were sheer and iridescent, but still not what they had discussed. Maybe she was right to be at least a little covered, though. He had imagined them both naked in his bed many times, but his version had also included a condom and the idea that she might welcome the rush of his power under her skin to heal the discomfort of his initial entry.
Maybe they both had unrealistic expectations.
Logan wondered if maybe finding a middle ground might be the best way forward, though he wasn't quite sure what that might be.
He hesitated. The Rogue did not. Her fingers under his chin drew him up until he regained his feet. At first glance, she seemed too small to stand in the face of the fierce hunger curling through him, but she was not cowed or trembling. She stood resolute, waiting for him to join her on the other side of the line, strong and proud and fierce in her ownership of this moment.
Not a child. Not a girl hiding from what she felt. A woman claiming her mate. Choosing the life and the future she wanted.
He reached for the buttons at her throat, inwardly pleased that she needed to anchor her hands on his shoulders. With each one that came undone under his fingers, the roaring in his ears grew louder. Her eyes were on his face. His were on the skin slowly being revealed.
Full wet lips interrupted his progress, stealing kisses as he worked. He smiled against her mouth, but didn't stop until the last button came free. Marie looked down as he parted her blouse. The sea glass pendant he'd given her hung over her heart and she heard his soft intake of air as he bared her skin to his gaze for the first time and pushed her blouse from her shoulders. It wasn't a furtive glance or a tortured fantasy or the shame of looking at her naked body in the bath while he bathed her limp, feverish form. He wasn't taking a damn thing from her tonight, it was freely given. His appreciation of her body empowered her.
The lace of an ivory camisole clung to her full curves, a whisper of gossamer that hid nothing. Not the shape of her breasts or the wild beating of her heart or the raspberry nipples standing up for him, aching to be touched. Soon. Soon. She was bare beneath it. His mouth watered and his big hands tightened on her slim waist as her fingers slid down his chest to the button on his jeans.
Logan managed to tear his eyes from her breasts to watch her open his pants. She didn't stroke or tease first. The momentum had them now, and both of them seemed to know they were past the place where touching each other intimately through a barrier was in any way enough. They needed bare flesh. He stopped her only long enough to pull out his wallet with the strip of three inside. He tossed it on the makeshift table beside the low sleeping pallet before stepping out of his jeans.
Her eyes held a question, and his, an answer.
Just in case.
She stilled for a moment and then shuddered as she looked at his naked, aroused body, thick with need and heavy with lust. He knew why a moment later as the sweet, musky scent of her arousal filled his head.
Pulling her flush against him, he kissed her mouth first and then her neck. As her head fell back, his mouth moved lower, licking and biting and sucking from one proud crest to the other. Impatient fingers explored her creamy skin, pushing aside the stretchy lace but not removing it entirely.
A good hard suck, just like he'd told her that night on the deck. She whimpered against him, the muscles of her back tightening under his palms as her fingers threaded into his hair. Greedy for more, his hand slipped under the lace and plucked softly, rolling her stiff nipple between his thick fingers. He'd been too lost in his first real taste of her to keep count in the back of his mind. The buzz tingled through him and he pulled away, breathing hard.
He set her from him, holding her at arm's length and met her eyes. His were wild, dark with desire and the agonizing burn of hope. He held her gaze for long moments, waiting. Wanting to give her one last chance to be sure this was truly what she wanted. It wasn't something that could be undone in the cold, gray light of dawn. He might be able to let her go now.
Her head moved, just the hint of a nod. When he hesitated, she nodded again, decisively, and the warm acceptance in her face rocked him down to his metal bones. It was done.
Logan wrapped both hands around her neck, thumbs on her jaw and pulled her mouth to his. The touch was dominant but also soft, and telegraphed both reverence and happiness twined heavily with desire. They were finally where they'd wanted to be for so long.
Sorry, y'all. I had to break it here. Otherwise it'd have been 6500 words long. Trust. You do not want me to break up the next bit. lol On the up side, my SmutMuse seems to be on the rampage. I think this is going to wind up to be a bit longer than the 50 chapters I'd planned. (Dammit!) My WolverineMuse was adamant. He feels he deserves some epic smut because of the long wait – and I agree with him. We'll see where we land, but after Logan has his turn, the Wolverine wants a go, and then there's the Red Door after that… And something tells me the Rogue is gonna need a turn, too…
Prepare to pucker up, y'all. There is a metric ton of citrus comin'!
Up next: End of the Innocence.
Just lay your head back on the ground
And let your hair spill all around me
Offer up your best defense
But this is the end
This is the end of the innocence…