Wolverine's Rogue
Chapter 4
by
Barbara Metzger
Rogue tried to move, tried to speak, looked up into the deep-set eyes, and found no mercy in them. She wanted it, she was gonna get it. He pulled her close.
With her fingers, she felt, through all the layers of fabric, his maleness asserting itself. Touch was the only sense restricted to her, it was the most sensitive sense. It was almost unbearable.
Rogue heard his fierce breathing, an in-and-out hiss above the sigh of the morning wind. Then it quieted, as if he was gaining control of it. He smiled a crooked, disarming smile she thought devilish. 'Being with you brings out the animal in me.'
'It certainly does. I knew you were there, hiding under all of that jackassedness yesterday,' she grinned. Youthful amusement danced in his eyes.
'Jackassedness...jack...assed...ness' he playfully frowned down at her. 'The youth of today have no respect for their elders. That's war,' he drawled.
'Yeah,' Rogue cracked a grin, 'So what are ya goin' ta do...old man? If the Professor had a sister and you dated her you'd still be robbin' the cradle.' He laughed. 'Well he ain't got a sister, that I know of, and I ain't robbin' any cradle but this one at the moment' he dipped her back slightly to find her eyes, 'and you're not exactly a kid anymore,' he said as he gave her a love bite on her covered shoulder. Just enough pressure to hurt...almost... but on a line so fine that it bordered on erotic pain, possessive passion. She felt the sheet moisten where his tongue lightly flicked.
'How are we gonna...we don't have anything for... um' she faltered. 'No imagination,' Logan quipped, and grinned in response to the withering look she sent him.
Logan gently backed away. Eyes away from her, he dragged the old chest from under the bed and opened it. 'I've never had a use for my leather gloves before.' He smiled as he slowly stretched them over his hands, purposefully slow, emphasising each fingers' journey through its channel of leather. 'A little tight...snug...just the way I like'em.' Still not looking at her, he took out a thin, dark blue cotton sheet and shook it to its full length.
'Turn around.' She licked her lips. 'You're givin' an order?' 'Just turn.' She'd turned just as he'd ordered. A warm, enveloping cloud of softness settled around her. He was so close. The back of her neck crackled with his closeness, as his hands flicked the edges of the sheet together under her chin.
His left hand lay across her shoulder, holding the sheeting. He roughly pulled her back against the great, strong wall of his chest. Rogue rubbed the back of her head against it, enveloped in the male smell of him. His face buried in her hair and his hand flattened against the swell of her right thigh.
He murmured something against the nape of her neck. 'What are you wearin' under my sheet, darlin'?' She closed her eyes and caught her bottom lip as she surged in his locked embrace. 'Black cotton shirt, short sleeve' she licked her lips again, 'long black gloves, pants, scarf--'
'--No.' he cut off, shaking his head with a sly smile she couldn't see, 'What's under your shirt? Silk or Cotton? Lace...leather...What kind of woman are you under all of your girl shyness?' His hand massaged firmly, cupping, stroking areas soft and hard over the sheet...slowly up her body. She cried aloud.
'It's warm,' she paused. The sheet felt like it was dissolving between them. 'If you don't answer me, and soon, I'm gonna take things into my own hands,' he purred.
'Deep wine silk edged in black lace...an...and...' She stared at the ceiling, forcing herself into some semblance of control. He roused her in ways she wouldn't have thought possible. 'Mmmm...fine wine goes down smooth,' he groaned, 'I like to roll it on my tongue and inhale its spice.' Rogue's imagination was a wicked thing.
Huskily he murmured something against her throat. Rogue didn't care what he'd said. She was suddenly impatient. It was his touch she craved. She could barely breathe with his mouth nibbling her shoulder again.
*SNICKT*...she jumped as she heard his right claw make clean cuts through the leather glove. 'You never finished describing what you had on under my sheet, darlin'.' She held deathly still as she felt the cold shock of metal trail down her flushed skin. With the tip of the blade, he carefully caught and pulled at the flimsy fabric of her pants and slowly razor-bladed them open wide. He heard fabric pile on the floor. Deep wine edged in black lace.
As quickly as they shot out, his claws retracted. He didn't wait for her to respond to his administrations. With the same hand he unbuttoned her cotton shirt. Clever fingers found the soft flesh underneath, explored the rounded curves, lingered lovingly, possessively on the hard tips. His left hand abandoned the sheet and played a subtle rhythm against the back of her thighs, causing small stomach spasms.
No longer gentle, he spun her around and took possession of her nipples with heated abandon, his tongue hungrily exploring through contrasting textures of cotton sheeting and silk. He held her, above the sway of her hips, tight against his mouth.
Her own hands, even within the cocoon of gloved forms, found touch a burning sensation. She felt everything intensely, as if hot breaths blew across her skin, exploring his powerful ridgedness.
'Speak to me, Rogue,' he told he huskily, 'but not with words.' Uncertainly, her hands slid over supple skin, felt the erotic sensation of the crisp hairs of his chest brushing against her thin silk fingertips. New confidence flared through her. 'Any doubts or reservations?' She couldn't trust herself to speak, she could only mutely shake her head no.
He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and opened it. The light caught a gleam off of a small metallic packet. With an unwavering stare he lightly held the packet between his teeth while slipping the billfold back into the tightness of his jeans.
He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops accenting the planes of his stomach and defining the deep lines that etched the width of granite arms. His large metal belt buckle sat atop a region of his anatomy she couldn't tear her eyes away from. He spit the packet with a throw of his head onto the furs of the bed. She didn't look away. He smiled that damn crooked grin. The soft light through the window fell on his glittering eyes.
'No imagination,' he said softly, pushing her onto the bed with his hands. She fell into the lush furs and felt a certain animalistic pleasure in the smell and textures around her.
'Undo your bra...let it fall open under your shirt.' He understood her need. He slid his knee higher, pressing gently at the junction of her thighs.
She slipped her hand underneath the fabric to unfasten the front clasp of her bra. Logan bent forward and blew across her shielded contours. The moist warmth of his breath molded her shirt to her breast. She raised up against him. Through the fabric she felt his touch, his mouth wetting and rubbing the material over flesh that burned.
With her spread hands, she explored the contours of his chest, the ripples of his stomach, the line of rough hair that trailed down. 'Don't touch me...wait.' Logan closed his eyes as his muscles strained to control his body. He shook his head and cracked his neck. She just smiled and didn't pay his words any attention.
She searched for and found the metal buckle and grabbed the leather end...yanked it til the metal piece slipped out of the hole, and popped the button on his fly with one hand. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. Looming above her with a open fly revealed the fact he was hard and heavily muscled...everywhere. How lewd.
He pulled the sheet between them and stretched out on top of her. He rested on his elbows and leaned down to inhale deeply at the base of her throat. He caught the edge of her collar between his teeth and tugged it aside, then tilted his head and let the ends of his hair brush over her skin.
Through his sensitive senses he felt her pause longer than would be expected. 'Logan?' The muscles in his thighs bunched and he fitted himself against her, twisting his hips in promise. 'Logan' It wasn't only his touch she wanted. She wanted an impossibility...she wanted him to stay.
'Let yourself go, Rogue.' He moved his hips again, then brought up her chin. 'I won't hurt you.' You're wrong, she thought. It will hurt when you leave.
She shouldn't think about that. Let go and take what he can give you, the voice said. Yes. She emptied herself of cautions, thoughts, everything but her present need. What he offered would have to be enough. She felt denim rub against her thighs.
Groaning he reached for her. She raised her arms and grasped the edge of the bed, waiting...anticipating, the feel of cool leather. 'Oh God...Rogue...I want you,' he breathed.
In response, she wrapped her legs around his waist and felt his rigid flesh against deep wine silk edged in lace. 'You're drivin' me wild,' he purred. She thrust against him, and he growled. He grabbed her hand and ran his tongue over the grooves and ridges of her gloved palm. Then paused a second and threw a devilish grin at her as he brought her hand to his open jeans...to grip him. He loved the sensual texture of her silk gloves holding him as the blood pulsed.
She reached down with the other hand to search for the foil packet. She found it and brought it up to hand to him. He eyed it's shininess for a second then said to her as he turned his mouth up, 'Help me into it,' he dared.
Rogue's voice was low and sexy, 'You are the devil.' He only laughed, 'Tit for tat, darlin'.' She could read desire in his eyes. Rogue carefully tore open the bit of foil and held the thin disc of rolled latex in her right hand. With her left she tightly squeezed him from base to tip as his body hardened further under her hand.
'Be careful.' His warning sent shivers up her spine, but her face betrayed no emotion as she placed the rolled disk on the tip. 'Logan, lean back on your arms and arch towards me.'
The thought of her flesh beneath his hands, her body moving under his...came so swiftly it sucked his breath away. A faintly amused expression crossed his face. 'Is that an order,' he teased. 'Just do it,' she smiled in return.
Rogue thought to herself, 'I'll show him imagination,' as she carefully sat up and took the tip of him in her mouth. She could feel the latex stretch tightly around him. He swallowed and clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to thrust in and out. She looked up and loved how he had his head tilted.
He glanced at her face and felt a surge of heat as she slowly unrolled the condom back from the hard tip with her teeth. He closed his eyes and rested his arms on his thighs. He snarled his lips and groaned. She felt him groan.
Unable to restrain himself any longer he cupped her head in his right hand and started to slide himself in and out of her mouth. It felt good.
It felt too good. Within a heartbeat, he pulled out and gripped her by her upper arms. 'Where did you learn that little trick?'
Caught by surprise, she spit a lock of her hair from out of her mouth and saucily answered, 'And you said I had no imagination!' 'Well, I'll be damned.''
'Logan.' She held her hand up and eyed him. 'Now!' Her meaning was clear. All he could do was grin. 'I like the way you think.'
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