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Xavier Institute
Boathouse


Ororo sat quietly, her eyes following her husband as he paced the living room carpet, running one hand through his wild hair. He had just finished filling her in on everything that Xavier had told him, and his recent dreams. “Well,” he prodded. “say something.”
“What would you like me to say, Logan?” Ororo tilted her head, fighting the urge to smile at his consternation. He looked really ruffled.
Logan stopped directly in front of her, crouching and grabbing her hands in his, his thumb absently stroking the wedding band around her finger. “This doesn’t change anything, ‘Ro. Yer still my wife.” He cradled he jaw. “My only.”
“I know.”
“So I don’t want ta hear--” He paused. “You know?”
She nodded. “Logan, how many times do we have to go over this? For better or worse? Death do us part? Yadda yadda…?” she waved her hand vaguely. “Honestly, sometimes I think they fused your brain with adamantium as well.”
“Yer taking this rather well.”
“What did you expect? Screaming? Wailing? I was there the day Wraith told you that you’d been married before. He had his friggin’ arm wrapped around my neck, he was right in my ear.” She kissed the palm against her cheek. “I love you, and I’m here for you. Through it all, Logan, even this. I am slightly miffed that you wanted to keep this from me, but I can understand why.”
Logan was silent for a minute watching her. She didn’t seem upset, he couldn’t smell it on her, didn‘t feel it. She was relaxed and smiling at him, her blue eyes shimmering with tenderness and love. “I don’t deserve ya,” he rumbled quietly and very sincerely.
Ororo‘s face became pseudo serious. “I know.”
Logan tugged on her hands, yanking her from the couch into his lap with a playful growl. He cupped her ass in his hands, rolling his hips up into hers, bringing forth tiny sounds of pleasure from his sexy wife. “Ya amaze me, ‘Ro.”
“I try,” she teased. She circled his neck with her arms laughing down at him, letting him know without words that they were strong, secure.
He shifted her so that her legs were wrapped around his waist, his erection rubbing against her through his shorts and her bathing suit. She licked her lips and he groaned. -SNIKT- Her top and bottoms were cut off with hurried flicks of Logan’s wrists.
“You’re always slicing my clothes off,” she said breathlessly.
“Then stop wearin’ the damn things,” he growled. He lifted her so that he could remove his trunks, kicking them away and pulling her back onto his lap, bending his head to suckle her breast, and just that easy she was hot and wet and eager for him. He did such wicked things with his tongue, making her wild for him. Slowly she lowered herself onto his thick erection.
“Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby,” his breath hissed from his lungs. He framed her hips, pulling her down on him. “Arch yer back. That’s it. Ride me, darlin’, nice and slow.”
She leaned back, turning her face towards his and slowly slid herself up and down on him.
“Yer so beautiful.” Logan gasped the words, constantly amazed at how perfect she was, how undeniably exotic and erotic she was. She was so uninhibited with him, free to be herself, showing him how much she wanted him, showing him her heart.
She looked at him through smoky eyes. “You make me feel beautiful.” Ororo controlled the pace, moving slowly, unhurried, taking him deep and rocking against him, then lifting until she was almost free and sinking back down. His groans and moans were music to her ears. She felt power coursing through her, lightening singing in her veins, fire racing along her skin where his mouth journeyed.
Logan grunted as Ororo picked up her rhythm, her hands pressing into his shoulders, her lips locked to his, their tongues dueling in a wet fray. He felt her inner walls clenching him and he surged up to meet her downward momentum. He gripped her hips, driving into her, feeling her coming apart in his arms, her cries of release trapped between their lips. He felt her slick juices spill from her body, coating him and he growled, low and deep and sexually charged. He rolled her back, holding her head in his hands, thrusting into her, his hips pounding furiously now as his own orgasm approached. Ororo tore her mouth away from his and bit his shoulder, drawing blood, her nails scoring his back. “Fuck!!” Wolverine exploded, his canines piercing her smooth skin as he clamped onto her neck, his orgasm slamming from him. His entire body convulsed and jerked, endlessly it seemed, the room going white then exploding in colors. “Jesus, ‘Ro.” Slowly his hips stopped moving, but he didn’t withdraw from her. Their hearts hammered together in synchronous rhythm, their breathing labored and erratic.
Her sultry, breathless laugh tickled his ear. “If this thing between us gets any stronger, we may not survive.”
Logan lifted his head from the hollow of her throat. “I’ll die a happy man,” he said brushing her lips tenderly.
“Mmm.” Ororo hugged him tight, wrapping her entire body around his.
Their phone was ringing.
“Ignore it,” Logan grumbled, licking her collar bone.
“It could be Jean,” Ororo said. “I told her to call if Scott woke up.”
Reluctantly Logan rolled off of her, allowing her to go to the phone. “Hello?”
“Hey, Stormy.”
“Hi, Ali.”
“Um, if you two are finished, could you make the rain stop, you’re killing the BBQ.”
Storm glanced out the window, noticing the rain pouring from the sky, a smile on her face. “Sorry.” Instantly the clouds dissipated and the sun lit the afternoon sky, a rainbow shimmering over the Institute.
“Nice touch. You guys on your way up?”
“We’ll be a little late.” Ororo said, noticing the heated look Logan was giving her as she stood naked in the kitchen.
Ali laughed and hung up the phone.
Logan stretched with animal grace, his smile darkly sensual. “C’mere.”
Ororo felt her insides melt. The man was insatiable and she was only too happy to fulfill his every need. She walked towards him slowly, her eyes locked with his. She stopped a few feet away from him. “Tell me what you want,” she asked huskily.
“You.” he growled.
“How?”
Logan leaped to his feet, stalking her. “Everyway.”
Ororo smiled as his strong arms encircled her. “We’re going to miss the barbeque,” she murmured.
“Don’t care,” he said, nuzzling her neck, his days growth rasping against her, making her moan. She loved how very…male, he was. All thought left her as he turned her and pressed her against the wall, moving his hand along her spine, slipping between her thighs and stroking her. “So hot. So wet.” he growled, pressing against her, the tip of his cock sliding in and out of her, teasing.
“Logan,” she cried out.
“Tell me,” he rumbled, rubbing her.
“I want you inside.”
He bit her shoulder. “Yeah?”
“Yes!” she hissed, curving against him.
Logan needed no further urging, thrusting into her in one smooth motion, cupping her breasts in his hands, balancing on the balls of his feet as he moved.
“Goddess,” Ororo cried out, bending at the waist and wrapping her hands around her ankles.
Logan grinned. The hours her and Gumbo spent in the gym with their acrobatics and flexibility training were very beneficial indeed.

Later

Ororo crossed her legs under her terry cloth robe, leaning over the papers in front of her. On the table was a copy of a marriage certificate, the gold wedding band, an army record and a few old photographs. Logan came up behind her, kissing the exposed nape of her neck, inhaling her freshly cleansed scent. He pulled the towel wrapped atop her head off, running his fingers through her damp tendrils.
“How long you gonna stare at those?” he asked quietly.
“Until it starts making sense.” Ororo tousled her hair. “According to this, you’re like eighty years old.”
Logan took the chair beside her and turned it, straddling it with his arms resting on the back. “Give or take,” he agreed. “Maybe older. Chuck thinks my healin’ factor keeps me from aging like a normal person.”
Ororo nodded. “Makes sense.” She flipped the army record over. “James Howlett.” She picked up the ring. Inscribed on the inner circle of the band was a message: To James with all my love. Ororo gave him a slanted look. “James?”
“Apparently.”
She was quiet.
Logan reached out and tucked silver strands behind her ear. “Hey. I’m still Logan.” he said gently.
“James, Logan, Wolverine.” She listed his names, silently wondering how many others he had. “What do I call you?”
“Husband.” he said firmly. “The name doesn’t matter, ‘Ro, so long as I know I’m yours.”
Ororo’s lower lip trembled. She touched his face reverently. “My Logan.”
He felt his breath leave him in a rush. He had hoped she would chose that name. That was who he was with her. Logan. Her Logan. Her mate. James was dead, as far as he was concerned, and Wolverine was who he was at work. But in his dream Mariko had called him Logan-san. So he had been with her after he had lost James? He frowned.
“What is it?”
“In my dream. Mariko called me Logan-san.”
Ororo flipped through the limited military papers Xavier had so far been able to acquire. “What was her last name again?”
“Yashida.”
Ororo halted briefly, then left the table, taking the stairs up to their room.
“Ororo?” Logan called from the foot of the stairs.
She reappeared a moment later, Scott’s PDA in her hand. “Catch me.” She leapt from the top of the stairs, using her powers to slow her descent. Logan caught her in his arms, holding her tight, kissing her thoroughly.
“What’s that?” he asked, slowly lifting his head, gesturing to the PDA in her hand.
“It’s Scott’s.” She turned it on. “You can put me down now.”
“I could.” Logan sat down on steps, still holding her. “But I won’t.”
Ororo scanned the list of contacts. “Here.” She turned the screen so that Logan could see it. “Shiro Yashida, a mutant from Japan, codenamed: Sunfire.”
Logan was surprised, but uncharacteristically cautious. “It could be a dead-end, darlin’. It’s not like there’s only one Yashida family-- Where are you going?” Ororo had scooted from his lap, making her way back into the kitchen.
“I’m calling Shiro Yashida.” Ororo picked up the phone.
Logan was beside her instantly, his hand closed around her wrist as she dialed. “No.”
“Why not?”
Logan gently wrested the phone from her and put it back on the wall. “I…” he floundered. “Just not now.”
Ororo hugged him. “It’s okay.” She stroked his back. “When you’re ready.”

Xavier Institute


“Hi, Ali!” Kitty smiled, bouncing over to where Ali was lounging on the leather couch, bag of potato chips on her lap, one booted foot propped on the table in front of her.
“Howdy, Kit-Kat,” Ali greeted as Kitty entered the rec room.
“Everything all set for tomorrow?”
Ali nodded. “Yep.”
“Wolverine’s gonna flip.”
“That’s the idea.”
Kitty plopped down beside Alison, her pony tail bobbing. “It went by so fast!”
Alison was silent.
“You ok?”
“Hunky-dorey.” Ali stood, handing the bag of chips to the younger girl. “I’ll catch ya later, Kitty. I gotta get some air.”
*BAMF*
“Where’s Alison going?” Kurt asked, his eyes glowing from his teleportation. “I had hoped to talk to her.”
“Dunno.” Kitty said with a shrug. “What are you up to tonight? Going out with Amanda?”
Kurt looked away. “Nein.”
Kitty sat up. “What’s wrong?”
“Amanda and I are no longer together.”
Kitty frowned. If that witch had hurt Kurt, there would be sooo much hell to pay! Like she had room to talk, she mentally scolded herself. She had hurt him first and callously. “Wanna talk about it?” she asked.
Kurt shook his head. “Not much to talk about.”
“I’m sorry,” Kitty said lamely.
“For what? You didn’t break us up.”
Kitty stood. “For everything, Kurt.” She touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry that you’re hurting now. Maybe if you talk to her…”
Kurt gave another shake of his head. “You misunderstand, Kitty. Amanda did not end things. I did.”
Kitty was surprised. “What? Why?”
Kurt gave her a steady look that made her knees tremble. “I could not pledge my heart to her when it still beat for another.” *BAMF*
Kitty collapsed to the couch, her heart hammering. “Dang.”

Courtyard

Ali kicked the gravel at her feet. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with Gambit and it bothered her. She should be thrilled that he was so attentive, and part of her was, but it was the underlying desperation she felt from him that bothered her. His fear. Was he in trouble? Was he sick? That thought made her clutch her stomach. She’d die if anything happened to her Yummy.
“Nice night.”
Ali looked over her shoulder to see Warren gliding towards her. “Hey, War.”
Warren landed a few feet away from her. “You look down.”
“When don’t I?” Ali said with a shrug. “It’s part of my shtick. Punker, y’know.”
“I thought Punker’s were supposed to look pissed and Goth’s were supposed to look depressed.” Warren said with a half smile.
“War, you pay attention to music-types?” Ali teased.
Warren stepped in front of her. “I pay attention to a lot of things, Alison.”
There was no mistaking the gleam of attraction in his eye or the subtle shift in his tone. “Oh. Uh, hey, Warren. You’re gorgeous as all get out, but…”
“But you are taken?”
“Very.” Ali confirmed. “And not your type.”
Warren stretched his wings. “And what ‘type’ is that?”
“You know. Pompass, rich, groomed, supermodel gorgeous--”
“You are gorgeous,” he interrupted. “Deserving to be loved by someone worthy of you.”
Ali took a step back. “War. You’re my friend, and I’d like to keep it like that, but you start talking shit about Gambit and that ends. We clear?”
Warren nodded, his jaw tight. “I’m sorry.” He flapped his wings and took off. Something about the way he said the words was unsettling. Like he meant so much more than apologizing for hitting on her. Damn. Was everyone going to confuse her?
“Ali!” Gambit’s smooth drawl reached her. She turned in time to see him leap from their balcony and stride towards her, his gaze moving between her and the retreating Warren. “What’d ‘e want?” he demanded. “What’d ‘e say t’you?” He gripped her arm tightly.
“Nothing. He just saw me walking and said hi. What’s wrong with you?” she yanked her arm away, rubbing where his fingertips had pressed.
Gambit exhaled a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, chere.” He pulled her gently back into his arms. Even though he was a full foot taller than her she molded to him like she was made for him. She was, he thought. His. He lowered his mouth to hers, lingering over her lips, sliding his tongue across the seam of her mouth, begging for entry. Ali moaned, leaning into him, allowing him in. Gambit pulled her tighter against him, and Alison could feel the tremors running through his body.
“Rem, please, what‘s wrong?” She stepped back, touching his face.
“I’m wit’ you, bella. What could be wrong?” He kissed her again, searing her lips with his, wiping any further thought from her mind. “Come, chere. Let me take you t’ bed and show you ‘ow much Gambit love you.” He held her close. “You love me, Ali?”
Ali stared into his red on black eyes questioningly. “I love you, Rem. Nothing will ever change that.” she said, confused by his uncertainty. Gambit was the most charmingly overconfident man she knew. No way was Warren upsetting him this much.
“Come wit’ me, chere,” he was tugging her towards the mansion.
Ali followed, her light eyes dark with questions.

Later
Boathouse

Logan pressed soft kisses along Ororo’s neck, teasing her ear. “It’s midnight,” he growled, waking her.
“Mmm…” Ororo angled her head, giving him better access to her smooth skin.
“Happy Anniversary,” he rasped, pulling her up from the bed, caressing her exposed flesh.
Ororo’s breath escaped in a long gasp as he descended on her, skin to skin, his frame sheltering hers. She felt the long, hard, thick length of him against her thigh and her heart skipped a beat. Bright Lady, he drove her mad.
Logan nudged her thighs apart with his knee, pressing his sensitive velvet tip against her heated entrance. Almost at once he was bathed in her creamy moisture and he had to forcibly refrain himself from shoving himself into her to the hilt. Instead he captured her mouth in a slow kiss as he eased himself inside of her. His breathing turned ragged as he was enclosed in her tight, fiery sheath. Fuck. She felt so goddamn good. He grit his teeth against the ecstasy of having her wrapped tightly around him, buried in her where he belonged.
Ororo moved restlessly beneath him, mindless, needy. Logan framed her face with his hands, his gray eyes molten silver in the night. “Yer my everything,” he groaned.
She whispered his name so quietly even he had a hard time to hear it, but he didn’t miss the tender ache that accompanied the sound. He kissed the corner of her mouth, flicking his tongue against her lips. She rotated her hips beneath him and he gasped. Vixen. She called a wildness in him, a part of himself that was hers and hers alone. His teeth nipped a path down her throat, along her chest, latching onto one chocolate nipple, sucking it into his mouth.
“Logan,” she writhed under his tender assault.
He lifted his head, capturing her blue gaze with his silver one. “When ya look at me, it’s like ya can see right into my soul,” he groaned, sliding in and out of her slowly. He gathered her hips in his hands, withdrew completely then surged forward filling her, completing her. Ororo felt tears sting her eyes. Ororo clung to him as he surged into her over and over with deep sure strokes, the tension building the pleasure intensifying. He was her strength, her anchor in the raging storm inside of herself. He was taking her beyond anything they had done before, her mind chaotic with the pleasure he was bringing her with his deliberate thrusts, with his frenzied kisses and with his haunting words of love in her ear. She pressed her face to his, holding him to her. He felt her tears, tasted their saline, kissed them from her face, licked them from her chin. He claimed her mouth, fed on her, both lost in the love and lust and the animal passion they were creating together.
Ororo heard herself cry his name as she fragmented, thousands of pieces of herself shattering into the wind, her body quivering around his, waves of fire crashing over her, the feelings so forceful and deep they bordered on pain.
Logan pulled her tighter against him, hammering into her. “I need ya, ‘Roro,” his voice was erotic and dark in her ear. “I need ya.”
Ororo couldn’t speak, rendered mute by his hard possession, by the friction still thrumming through her body as he delved deeper and deeper into her, each stroke more powerful than the last. Her tongue swirled over his sweat dampened skin, lapping at him. She felt his immediate reaction, the hard arousal buried in her swelling even more. Goddess. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
Logan crushed her to him, his body hot and hard and immersed in her fiery heat, deep inside to the point where he felt he was drowning in pure ecstasy. White-hot lightening flashed outside and the crack of thunder that followed shook the house. He threw his head back, his eyes blazing at her with possession and love. He took her harder, her sheath tightening as she approached another orgasm. She was whimpering against his shoulder, her body shaking in pleasure. He swore as he felt her tighten around him, milking him as he erupted, spilling his seed deep within her, crying out her name on a hoarse roar.
Ororo lay stunned, her body pleasantly sated, tingling as erotic little aftershocks chased their way through her system. She reached up and traced his mouth with her fingertips. “I could stay like this forever,” she whispered.
“Mm. Too bad I got other ideas,” he growled.
Ororo gasped as her trailed his hand along her flat stomach, her skin still overly sensitized from their recent lovemaking. He bent his head, his tongue lapping her nipple.
“Logan…?” She clutched his hair convulsively.
“I want you again, ‘Ro.”
“That’s not…” She was about to say possible when she felt him stirring back to life, still buried deep inside of her. He slid out of her slowly and caught her hips in his hands, gently turning her onto her stomach. He traced his lips down the flawless curve of her back, taking his time, moving slow and deliberate. He was pressing against her as he kissed her, the hard head of him teasing the cleft between her buttocks, causing her to wiggle against him, panting in her need for him.
“Be still,” he scolded, his teeth finding the swell of one cheek, biting in subtle warning. He was going to take his time, love her slowly, and thoroughly. He caressed her with his palm, opening her for him as he pressed himself back into her tight entrance. God. He grit his teeth. He cupped her breasts easing her back into him, his mouth tasting her back, her shoulders, her nape. Her long snow colored hair cascaded across the pillows, pooling around them and it was a sight he knew he’d never forget.
“More,” she demanded throatily, and Logan lost himself in the fire. He growled, gripping her hips and plunging into her, hard and fast, making her cry out for release from his torment. He bent over her, completely dominating her, thrusting to the hilt, his teeth finding the hollow of her shoulder, pinning her beneath him as he took her, both exploding together, so enraptured one couldn’t say where they ended and the other began.
Logan rolled from her, pulling her with him so that they lay spooned together, his arm wrapped protectively and possessively around her waist. He kissed her shoulder where he had broken the skin and he felt her smile.
“Like I said earlier…one of us is going to end up dead,” Ororo laughed.
“Yeah, but what a way ta go,” Logan chuckled.





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