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Uncertainty was not a common feeling for Ororo, in fact she was commonly considered the most steadfast and sure person in the Xavier Institute, however in this moment, naked in front of this man, she felt completely bereft of any semblance of control or certainty.
With a careless flick of her hand she disrupted the electric current in her stereo, stopping the music. An eerie, full silence descended the loft.
“Is that a no?” Logan asked finally, cocking a brow.
Ororo took a shaky breath, trying desperately to ignore how uninhibitedly pagan and masculine he looked standing before her. “What are you doing here, Wolverine?” She used his code name, hoping to remind him and herself of their teammate status.
A wry tilt curved his mouth. Knowing her as well as he did he easily saw through her attempt at distance. He allowed his gaze to wander slowly over her lithe form, taking time to rest on her generous upturned breasts and flat stomach, lingering over her well-groomed thatch of snowy curls, and then trailing her long shapely legs.
“Y’know I’ve always wondered what it’d feel like ta have those wrapped around me,” he murmured, lifting his eyes back to hers.
Ororo was wise enough not to feign ignorance; instead she took a faltering step backwards, away from the man that had haunted her dreams for more years than she cared to admit.
Logan stalked forward, his eyes glittering like shards of obsidian in the moonlight. -SNAKT- He retracted his extended claws, reaching for Ororo.
She shook her head slowly back and forth, as if denying his approach.
“It‘s time, darlin’,” he growled, catching her about the waist with one strong arm, lifting her against his hard body. “Been our time for awhile now.” Logan moved his hips against hers, stirring against her in a familiar fashion, repeating the steps of the dance they shared earlier. “Dance with me.”
Ororo’s breath hitched, her heart thundering so loud she was certain it echoed throughout the mansion. She turned her face away, unable to look into his eyes for another moment for fear of drowning in their fathomless depths. “Th-there’s no music…”
Warm breath stirred the soft hair at her temple. “We’ll make our own.” Logan touched her face gently, his fingertips tracing the line of her jaw, turning her face back towards his. His touch was soft, delicate as butterfly wings, yet the impact to Ororo was the same as a bolt of lightening streaking through her body.
There was such passion in him, desire and hunger burning through the carefully constructed veil of friendship they had so willingly hid behind for so long. He rocked against her, encouraging her to undulate against him, which she did without thought, lost in the moment. That sensual momentum that had begun on the dance floor had not dissipated, instead the flames of passion flared instantly, engulfing the two of them with raging intensity.
He lowered his head, inhaling her unique, earthy fragrance at the base of her neck, his tongue gently stroking against her pulse. With just that small gesture, Ororo felt shaken to her very core, every muscle tightening in exquisite reaction to his caress, heat spreading throughout her being, pooling in a long denied ache at the junction of her thighs.
Completely enraptured Ororo leaned forward, the tips of her breast teasing the crisp hairs on his chest, the rough contact making her throb.
Logan inhaled sharply, trying ineffectively to reign in the hot need rushing through him, through every vein, through every fiber of his being. He wanted to take this slow. This was a dance of seduction, not domination, and he intended to do it right. Slowly he brought her face to his, brushing his lips against hers, sharing the same breath. Ororo sighed against his mouth, a soft submissive sound that awoke something primal in him. Logan deepened the kiss. She tasted like rain and felt like silk.
Ororo’s eyes fluttered as she opened her mouth under his, taking his tongue inside. Something wild moved inside of her. Recognized Logan for what he was. Wild, primal, male and raw. Sensations like none she had ever experienced were taking over. A fine mist rose in the attic loft, the slight moisture cool on heated skin.
Logan’s hands moved over her, finding every place that made her gasp with pleasure, inflaming her even more. She melted against him, skin to skin, rubbing against him as they danced along the hardwood. He groaned, nuzzling against the underside of her jaw. He would never get enough of simply touching her, enjoying the silken smoothness of her chocolate skin beneath his well worn hands. “I love the sounds ya make when I touch you,” he whispered. His mouth moved along her shoulder, lingering over the gentle curve before moving downward, following the swell of one breast, taking the tight peak into his hot mouth.
Ororo closed her eyes, moaning softly, “Logan…”
He chuckled quietly, a low and deep sound that rumbled at the end. “I like the way that sounds too.”
“We shouldn’t,” she began on a regretful whisper.
Logan took her head between his hands, cradling her face like she was made of sine china. “Hush, ‘Ro. I‘m done pretendin‘. Done with the games. I‘ve wanted ya fer years, but never realized ya felt the same…until tonight. Ya let it slip, darlin‘. That icy shell you encase yerself in, ya let it down for a moment, and now I know.”
Ororo’s fingers flexed on broad shoulders. “What is it you think you know, Logan?”
One hand released her jaw, tracing a path between the valley of her breasts, over her abdomen, pressing past the damp lips of her sex, dipping into the sweet nectar within, drawing a ragged moan from the normally reserved Goddess of the X-Men.
“I know that you want me, almost as much as I want you to want me,” he whispered against her mouth. “Tell me ya want me, ‘Roro. I’ve waited so long ta hear the words.” He flicked his thumb over her clit. “Too damn long.”
Clutching his shoulders to keep from buckling, Ororo involuntarily pressed against Logan’s palm, her reaction to him completely beyond her control.
Another flick and growl. Sizzling breath in her ear, ragged pants echoing her own inner longing. “Say the words.”
“I want you.”
Logan gave a satisfied grunt. “Again.”
“I want you.”
Without warning, Logan reached around her, gripping the firm globes of her ass in his hands, lifting her off her feet, walking her into a wall so that her back pressed against the cool wood paneling.
Ororo locked her legs around him.
“Better then I imagined,” he said nipping her bottom lip between his strong front teeth.
Ororo gave a soft sigh. “Much.”
At her admission Logan’s blood ran hot through his body, pounding through his system, racing to his head and groin in a rush of possessive desire. She had fantasized about him too. That thought made his chest ache.
“I need ya now,” he growled.
Ororo nodded in understanding, the same fire raged within her that did him. “Yes.”
Logan lowered her body over his and closed his eyes at the indescribable sensation he felt. She was tight and hot, a velvet sheathe clinging to his rock hard cock, surrounding him in liquid pleasure. Along with the intense satisfaction he felt being fully immersed inside of Ororo, he was assailed by wild lust, need, and a surprising amount of tenderness, and an overwhelming sense of belonging that he had never felt before.
“Ororo,” he groaned, shaking with restraint. He wanted to take his time, make everything perfect for her. He surged in and out of her in steady, slow thrusts that made his body shudder with careful control. The passion was too extreme and he could feel himself falling into an abyss of sensation.
Ororo had never felt so completely whole before. It was like the missing piece of her soul had finally found its way home. Her nails dug into his skin, her head was thrown back, exposing the slender column of her throat as she repeated his name in soft sighs and gentle moans.
They moved together, blended in synchronic harmony that was as beautiful as it was unexplainable. Ororo’s soft, broken cries took away the last of Logan’s control and he slammed into her with more force than he intended, unable to stop himself. Her body tightened around him, gripping him in silent demand. He lifted his face to the ceiling where lightening danced inside the loft, and he smiled, knowing that he was the cause of the spectacular display. “You do that to me too, ‘Ro. If I could make the sky dance fer you I would,” he panted.
“You are,” she corrected breathlessly, moving her hips in the rhythm of his.
Logan captured her mouth in a searing kiss, demanding her complete surrender. Ripples of heat engulfed him as Ororo found release, her fingernails piercing skin, the tremors of her body threatening to milk his own completion from deep within. With a snarl he pumped furiously, lifting her and bringing her back down, growling as he removed her from the wall, lowering her onto her soft bed.
He stared down at her for a long moment, desire blazing unrestrained behind his eyes. She was magnificent in her passion, her lips swollen and rosy, her eyes glowing white, her long hair tousled and wild about her shoulders, her skin glowing with an inner light. He’d always found her attractive, everyone did, hell it was a common enough occurrence for warlords and alien invaders, vampires and kings to want to claim her for their own that it became a household joke, but in this moment Logan knew that obsession like never before. She had to be his. Now and always. He couldn’t--wouldn’t--give her up.
“Logan?” Ororo gazed up at him through thick lashes, not knowing how to gauge the fierce expression on his face.
Immediately he sensed her unease, the frission of tension that went through her and he bent his body over hers, kissing along her flat stomach, up her chest to her mouth. “I don’t want this dance ta end.”
She smiled tremulously. “Me either.”
He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She turned her face slightly, into his touch. “I was afraid.”
That stunned him. Storm was no coward, and she hated to admit fear in any way. But he understood. He was a wildcard, an uncertainty and she craved stability, unable to unleash her emotions like he could ,for fear of someone being hurt in the aftermath.
“Are ya still?” he asked lifting her hand to his mouth, suckling on her index finger.
She released a shaky breath. “Terrified.”
He gave her a crooked smile. “Me too, darlin’.”
Gradually, with long, unhurried kisses and strokes of tongue, Logan made his way up her arm, to the curve of her neck. He slid his hands along her slender legs, parting them so that he could once again immerse himself in the sweet sanctuary of her body.
Wind whipped the curtains in a frenzy as Logan sunk into her, hard and hot and thick. Ororo trembled, taking all of him in one smooth stroke to the hilt. His guttural groan made her quiver. “Goddess,” she hissed.
“Feels good, don’t it, baby,” he grunted, pulling back before thrusting deep.
Unable to articulate a vocal, coherent response, she slammed her mouth up into his, mashing lips with the force of it. She felt him jerk, then grunt in approval as her tongue swept into his mouth, teasing and cajoling. She lifted her hips from the bed to meet his forceful plunges.
“‘Ro, I can’t--”
“Sh. Don’t…Don’t hold back, Logan. You won’t hurt me.”
“I could,” he argued, temptation to take her completely making him edgy, his control hovering on the brink.
Ororo locked one leg over his back, gripped his buttocks in her hands and pulled him as deep as he could go. “I can take anything you can dish out, Wolverine.”
“Fuck,” he growled, his claws popping out, sinking deep into her mattress through her pillows, feathers catching in the wind, swirling around the bed. The springs groaned and squeaked in protest as Logan’s possession became increasingly vigorous, the force of each thrust propelling them further and further towards the brink.
Ororo grit her teeth as Logan pounded into her, each pulsating stroke deeper and harder than the one previous. Suddenly the room exploded in bright and vivid colors as lightening danced erratically throughout the loft, their brilliant display a manifestation of their mistress’s release. Thunder growled in time with Logan, whose body was wracked by acute pleasure/pain as he poured his seed deep into Ororo’s womb.
Quaking in the aftermath of an encounter like none either had before experienced, both remained silent, their ragged breathing the only sound heard above the drumming of rain against the skylight.
After a time Logan, whose hand was absently stroking along the gentle curve of Ororo’s spine spoke. “I told ya.”
Ororo stirred drowsily, pleasantly sated. “Told me what?”
Logan tilted her chin, delivering a lingering kiss to her puffy lips. “That we’d make our own music.”
“Yes, we did,” she agreed. “A beautiful symphony.”
Grinning at the woman in his arms, a woman that he’d loved for too long to contemplate, Logan asked, “So, what do we do for an encore?”





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