Title: Maybe We Can|
Author: Donna Bevan
Fandom: X-Men movieverse
Summary: Logan is suddenly free to take what he wants - will he?
Series: Adaptations #8
Category: Logan POV, Logan/Rogue romance
Disclaimer: Not mine! They are not mine!
Dedication: For Victor and Lorie and the trip to the "all-night dirty bookstore", without which I never would have discovered my penchant for erotica. (Reading it, not writing it, so if this sucks, please forgive me. LOL)
In retrospect, I can see that I probably shouldn't have grinned and gotten all puffed up like some idiotic wild bird. It was just inappropriate.
At least, that's what Jean said it was. Hey, how was I supposed to know the Remy kid was in such bad shape? I mean, he only touched Rogue for a second or two, but now he's down for the count. I doubt he even had time to register the contact of his fingers on her skin before she gasped and shoved him away, but... Apparently the brief touch was enough to knock him out, and Jean seems to think he won't wake up until sometime tomorrow.
So she got hugely pissed off at me when that damn fool grin broke out on my face. After I hugged Marie to me and made sure she was okay, I couldn't help it. She's mine, and I can't explain how good that feeling is. So I smiled - big deal. It was sheer relief, and it had nothing to do with that kid. I wasn't glad he was hurt, or anything; I was actually grateful to him. He helped my Marie, and that means I owe him one. Still, Jean saw my smile and blew up at me, yelling for me to shove my machismo where the sun don't shine and to get the hell out of her lab while I was at it.
She's a firecracker, that one. I wonder if Scooter can really handle her.
The way I see it, that poor kid knew what he was getting into, right? Hell, he's lucky he's still alive and I ain't talking about Marie's power, either. I should have gutted him like a fish for flirting with my girl the way he did. I wonder if he even knows what a fortunate bastard he is.
Anyway, my relief got me kicked out of the infirmary, and Marie wouldn't let me leave without her. It's after four now, and the sun will be coming up in a couple of hours. I don't know if I can sleep, but she definitely needs to. She's climbing the stairs in front of me, and she looks tired but strangely alert. She probably wouldn't recognize that look even if she saw it on her face in the mirror, but I know it. She's aware of me and she wants me, and I don't know if I have the strength to walk away from this one.
Oh God, I don't know if I can.
She's walking ahead of me, and I can't keep my eyes from roaming over her. The scrub bottoms shouldn't make her look like the sexiest thing east of the Mississippi River, but they do. Hell, it's probably just her, you know? She'd look mouth-watering to me even if she were wearing the proverbial burlap sack. She walks, and I'm so focused on the shift and sway of her ass that it takes me a minute to realize that she's walked past her room... and towards mine.
I stop in front of her door and clear my throat. Her head swings around and confusion flares in her eyes before hurt takes its place. Shit. There's not going to be an easy way to explain this to her.
Her soft steps bring her back to face me, and she asks gently, "What are you doin', Logan?"
"Walking you to your room, Marie." My voice is gruff, abrasive. She's not going to understand why I need to do this, and she's going to feel rejected, then angry... and then maybe just cold. I tell myself I can handle that, and it's a lie, but a necessary one.
She is quiet for just a moment, and then, "I want to stay with you tonight, Logan." Her voice cracks, and I guess it's a measure of exactly how much she yearns for me, that she would open up and just say something like that. It makes things harder... in more ways than one.
I guess I'll try honesty. There's really nothing else to say. "We can't, Marie," I tell her. I keep my gaze averted from her face. If I see how she looks at me, how her mouth softens and pouts for mine, then I might forget all my noble thoughts. And I don't want to do that, because this is one time when I need to be noble. Because she's Marie, and she's the only thing in my life worth sacrificing anything for. What I want has to be set aside if it's going to hurt her.
She says nothing, but I can feel her stare, and it makes my skin prickle with this odd sort of itching twinge. Finally, I meet her eyes, and only then does she speak. "The Professor doesn't mind, Logan. He knows that we're... supposed to, that it's right. Not wrong, but right."
It doesn't surprise me that she's hit so close to the truth. She has, after all, had me swimming around in her head before. "The way he sees this whole thing doesn't make it right." I fight to keep my tone firm, resolute. I can't let her see how I need the things I'm trying not to take from her. "You're so young, Marie. I don't think you understand."
Her face hardens, and she shakes her head. "In some ways, Logan, I'm years older than you." Then she slumps her shoulders tiredly, and I can tell she's not going to give up any more of her dignity for my sake. She will not beg me. "If you don't want this, Logan, if you don't want me, all you have to do is say so." With that, she turns toward her bedroom door.
I can't let her think that - I just can't. A low rumble emerges from my throat, and I capture her hands in mine, pinning her against the door. "You don't know, Marie. You just don't... God." I have to show her somehow. I have to make her see, so I raise her hands and place them on the wood in front of her. The movement presses my body full-length behind her, and I can feel the warmth of her flesh bleeding through our clothes. Part of my mind screams that it's a mistake to touch her at all, because all it can do is make me want more and more and more, and one of us has to be strong. It won't be her - she's spent the last year of her life deprived of any sort of touch, and now her body is primed and ready for mine.
I don't listen to that part of my mind, the sensible part. Instead, I lean into her, molding her soft flesh against my hardness. My words are harsh in her ear. "Don't think that I don't want you, Marie. I want you like all hell on fire, but I can't have you."
"You're wrong, Logan," she answers, her head falling back against my chest. "You're the only one who can have me. The only one."
Her words burn me alive, as does the sight of her soft hair falling across my body like silk. The way she has her head tilted exposes her throat, and I remember the taste of that skin on my lips and tongue. I remember it from my dreams, both sleeping and waking, and something intense and almost violent rises within me. "Marie, please," I grind out between clenched teeth. "You're killing me." My hips jerk against her almost involuntarily, and I can barely breathe.
Instead of being scared or shocked by the desire raging through me, she sighs softly and presses back into my body. "Logan... I don't want to make you feel bad. I never want to do that. It's just... I need you so much, and I don't know how to... " She shudders, and tips her head forward to rest on the door. "I know you want to wait, but what if this is only for tonight? Just for now? What if I go in my room alone, and then tomorrow I can't touch you anymore?"
I never considered that, never thought for a single moment that what we had was not a pardon but a temporary reprieve. Fear tightens around my heart, but even that won't let me justify stealing her innocence. "Marie... This is the only home you have. Right now, Professor Xavier doesn't mind the thought of us together, but what happens when he doesn't find the idea so damned romantic anymore? I can't risk having you lose everything over this." Over me, I add silently.
"Isn't that my decision, Logan?" She sounds a bit steadier now. Then she laughs and pulls her hands out of mine, folding her arms around herself. "I can't believe I'm havin' this conversation with you. Look at us. I'm tryin' to pressure you into havin' sex with me. Unbelievable, huh?"
"You got that right, honey," I whisper, nodding against her hair. If someone had told me that Marie would be throwing herself at me some day, I would have laughed. If they'd also told me that I'd be walking away from her... Well, hell, I would have directed them to the nearest mental health facility. It's just not a very Logan thing to do, to hold back when there's something that I want. It's not who I am. I'm a taker; it's what I do best.
But not tonight. Not with her. "Go to bed, Marie. Please." Mere whispers, but I know she hears me, because she nods and opens the door clumsily. Then she's gone.
I am still standing there trying to bring my protesting body under control when a tiny noise makes my ears prickle. I look up, and Cyke is standing in his and Jean's doorway down the hall. His face is devoid of expression, but I can feel pity rolling off of him in waves. He says nothing, just ducks inside their room and shuts the door.
I hate him for feeling sorry for me. I hate him, period. He can have it all - he can touch his girl anytime he wants, and she's plenty old enough to do the things lovers do behind closed doors.
I groan and resist the urge to pound my head or maybe even my fists on the wall. It won't accomplish jack shit except probably cause some major property damage.
An hour later, and I'm still awake. I've been lying here grasping at sleep, but there's no way. The sky outside is starting to lighten, and everything in my room is washed with a dark blue, almost indigo color.
The door opens. My muscles tense, but not for a fight.
"I tried, Logan," she whispers quietly, and I can barely hear her above the pounding of my heart. "I did, but I can't stay away from you. Please don't make me."
The light from the hallway outlines Marie's soft frame through the silk of her nightgown, and I rise from the bed and cross the room soundlessly. I reach behind her for the door and, for one second, I can see that she expects me to set her out.
But I merely close the door with a muted click because I can't tell her to go. I can't turn away from her. Damn me to hell, but I crave this woman. I crave her, and the beast within me will not be quieted by anything but her touch.
"Marie." Her mouth meets mine as I tilt her face up. Her tongue is hot and wet, and the feel of it triggers memories from my dreams and from the infirmary. A bolt of desire splinters through me, shooting stars behind my eyes and fullness to my heated flesh. She is my faith and my religion. I worship her.
I'm not wearing my sweatshirt anymore, and she gasps as I shift her in my arms, holding her off the floor and against me. Slow down, Logan. I don't want to scare her, but God... I don't know if there's any way to slow the avalanche of longing inside me. I don't know if I can be soft and gentle with her.
I tear my lips from hers and lower her to my bed. Her hair spreads delicately across my pillow, and it hits me. I have to be soft and I have to be gentle, and I have to because I love her. Everything that I feel and want...It's not just my body crying out for hers, not only lust both triggered and recognized by our animal senses. I love her.
I love her.
She is stroking her tiny hands across my chest and shoulders, staring up at me. "What's wrong, Logan?" Her eyes are wide and deep, and I can feel myself falling into them.
"Nothing, darlin'. Not a thing." I brush a lock of white hair from her cheek. I can't tell her what I feel, can't burden her with everything that I am.
Maybe I'll show her instead. Her lips are warm and moist as I capture them for another kiss, this one lighter than the others. It coaxes a slower, more profound response from her, and she grasps my shoulders rhythmically, squeezing and releasing, over and over. My hands are reverent as I slide them under the tiny straps of white silk that rest just outside her collarbones.
"Marie?" I whisper the question against her mouth, and it's a plea for permission and forgiveness. She arches her back a little, giving me both. Then she freezes, and my world condenses to a single spot on her neck, where her pulse is beating frantically beneath her skin. "Talk to me, darlin', please. Tell me."
"Logan, I... " Her eyes clench shut, and my heart is skipping like mad. Then she lifts her eyelids, and her stare burns me. "I want to do the things you wouldn't let me do in our dreams. I want to touch you."
I feel like I'm drowning, only it's Marie I'm breathing in instead of water. "Not a good idea," I croak. "I'm on thin ice here as it is."
"Oh... And what happens if you fall through?" she asks with a mock innocence that I recognize from the dreams. I had forgotten that she knows my body now, knows my responses, even when I try to hide or control them.
I grit my teeth as she runs her fingers through the hair on my chest, skating the tip of a nail around one of my nipples. "You may not be able to walk tomorrow, and you'll sure as hell never want me to touch you again, that's what," I growl, catching her hands and holding them above her head.
Instead of blushing or jumping from the bed, she smiles at me and arches her back again. "I'll always want you touchin' me, Logan. And I wouldn't mind not bein' able to walk if it meant I finally got to know what you feel like inside me."
Something inside me snaps, and I roll away from her with a groan. "Marie... Dammit, girl! You can't... " The mattress shifts then rises, and she's standing by the bed, smiling at me. She pulls those damn intoxicating straps from her shoulders and drops her gown to the floor. She steps out of it, leaving it in a silken heap at her feet.
She's not wearing a blessed thing underneath it, either, and I think my head's about to explode. Suddenly, I understand - she knows she has me now, so she's going to make the most of it. She's going to play the seductress.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, Marie?" I ask as she climbs back onto the bed, onto me.
"Torturin' you, I hope," she grins, leaning over and letting her glorious hair brush over my bare chest and stomach.
"You hope?" Jesus, she's gonna kill me.
Her nod makes me shiver as the curtain of her hair tickles my flesh. "Uh-huh. Consider it payback, Logan, for every time I woke up achin' for you because you wouldn't give me what I wanted."
I don't know if she realizes it, but she's moving above me. Her hips are slowly and subtly rolling back and forth, riding me, and I grab her hips with both hands to halt the movement. "And what did you want, Marie?" I ask with a husky murmur. "Tell me."
"Tell you, or show you?" she laughs, drunk on sensation. She's a wicked temptress, and she's reaching for the waistband of my pants, pulling them down and away from my body. "Help me, Logan."
She lies down next to me as I kick my legs free of the fabric. Her eyes are huge, hungry, and I don't really know what to do next. Should I try and slow it down, try to get her to downshift a little? I don't want to scare or hurt her, but it's getting more difficult to think, much less control my carnal urges.
She takes the decision from me and makes it her own by reaching out to touch my erection, making a soft sound of surprise when my flesh twitches at the contact. I try to think about snow tires and hockey stats, anything to keep from thinking about the fact that this is Marie and she's exploring my hardness with a fascination that steals my breath and makes my muscles ache and--
"Oh God, stop," I gasp, head spinning. It's too much, and way too damn fast. Control, I have to stay in control.
"Did I hurt you, Logan?" She's beautiful in her concern for me, with her brow furrowed and her teeth buried in her lower lip. "Did I?"
"It hurts, all right, but only 'cause it feels too good." I take a few shaky breaths and roll over, resting my body right up against hers. "Let me show you."
She's smiling at me seductively, and I can tell that she's relishing the knowledge that she holds such sway over the passion coursing through my body. I have to say I can't blame her. I'm going to pound my chest and howl at the moon when I make her scream for me for the first time.
I run a hand up her leg and over her hip, bringing it to rest on her breast. A light squeeze makes her toss back her head and gasp. I circle her nipple with my fingers, enticing it to a hard point, and her gasp turns into a low moan that slices through me like a blade.
"Logan... " She's breathing harder now, and her voice is soft and unsteady. "I want... "
"Tell me, and I'll do it, Marie." My hands are shaking as they cup her perfect flesh. "What do you want?"
"Your mouth... on me... Logan... " Her head is tossing on my pillow and it's strange, because instead of driving me over the edge of sanity, her pleas calm me. I am more determined than ever before to make certain she has more pleasure than she ever imagined possible.
I lick the hollow of her throat lightly. "Whatever you want, darlin'." My breath caresses the moist skin I left behind, and she shivers against me. I let my tongue trail down past her collarbone, over the soft slope of her breast, closing my mouth around the tip. She groans and bucks, throwing her body into mine, seeking...
My hand drifts to her thighs, nudging them apart, and my breath rushes out in a hiss when I encounter wet heat. She's ready for me, waiting for me to take her, to make her mine, and I shudder. My fingers slip over her, hitting a spot that makes her cry out and twist her tiny hands into the sheets.
I fumble in my nightstand drawer, pulling out a foil package. I drop it once, then rip it open clumsily. I manage to sheath my erection in record time and move over her, into the cradle between her thighs. I groan aloud when she instinctively draws her legs up and wraps them around my hips. Her eyes are half-closed and unfocused, and it makes me want to beat my chest with satisfaction and pride. I've barely touched her really, and she's half out of her mind. Of course, she's touched me even less and I'm completely gone, so... I guess she's the one who should be crowing victoriously right about now.
Then she shifts her hips, rubbing my aroused flesh, and my eyes clench shut. "Marie? Are you okay?" Her only answer is a wordless moan as she buries her hands in my hair and tugs. Oh God. "It might hurt, baby... "
"Shut up, Logan," she growls, her eyes clearing a little. "I swear, if you make me wait, I'll--" Her words are cut off by my lips descending on hers, my tongue snaking into her mouth, mimicking the way I'm about to join our bodies.
"Shh, Marie," I whisper, rocking my hips forward, easing into her. She says my name with a strangled gasp, and tears spring to her eyes. I freeze, my muscles rigid and shaking. "Did I hurt you?"
She tosses her head, moaning. "No... Logan, don't stop, please... "
I press against her until I am buried to the hilt inside her warmth. I stop, resisting the urge to pound into her wildly - she can't take that yet, no matter what she says. I withdraw, just a little, and she protests, grabbing my ass with both hands. If I weren't about to die from pleasure, I'd probably laugh. "I'm not going anywhere, darlin', but this doesn't work if we don't move."
"I know, I just... want to remember how this... feels," she breathes. "Oh God, Logan... "
Her entire body is starting to tremble, so I start rocking my hips again, slowly at first, then faster. My body is taking over the rhythm, and I try to focus on Marie, but she's making these sweet little sounds that make it hard to think about anything besides the way she feels surrounding me...
My face drops to the curve of her neck, and I'm panting now, whispering to her. "Come on, baby... Oh, Marie... " Her breathing is growing ragged in my ear, and I feel a sudden wetness as she sucks my earlobe into her mouth, biting delicately. She's making me lose what little control I have, making me wild. I pull away, drinking in the sight of her tensed face as I move in her.
Suddenly, her clenched eyes shoot open and she writhes under me and she looks like she's about to scream, but all that comes out of her mouth is my name, and the way she says it, like I'm everything to her, makes my brain shut down. Tremors are crashing through her, making her shake and moan, and my thrusts are uncontrolled now. I'm the one with my eyes shut tight and my muscles tensed, and I hear a voice babbling on about something, about love and never leaving and love and, oh God, oh my God--
Something explodes in me, and my entire world is no bigger than this room, than this bed, but it's spinning out of control. It dips and swirls and there's nothing holding me to the earth except for Marie, because she is the earth and I want to live here forever...
Gradually, I return to myself enough to realize that I must be crushing her, so I roll to one side, taking her with me. She hangs limply over me, but she's smiling, so I guess I did something right.
Her smile deepens as I brush her hair from her face, but her eyes remain closed. "Is it always like that, Logan? Like flying through the sun?"
"It's never been like that, Marie." My hands tangle in her hair.
"So beautiful... love you, Logan..." She's drifting off to sleep just as the sun she spoke of comes peeking through the blinds.
She loves me. And, God help me, I love her. My heart swells until I think it might pound out of my chest and across the room. I've spent the last few months thinking that she and I can't do this, that we can't be together. Of course, I didn't realize that we had love. Isn't that supposed to make anything possible? I thought we couldn't be together, but maybe, just maybe...
Maybe we can.