Disclaimer: Don't own any of the x-men character in any of the different Marvel universes (Cartoon, Comic or Movie). All owned and copyrighted by Marvel Comics.
** ** indicates telepathic communication
‘ ’ indicates thought
“ ” indicates spoken words
‘Sleep Dammit,’ She scolds herself, the gentle snores of the man lying next to her reminding her of her own insomnia, the primary cause of why she is here…at least tonight.
Turning sideways she feels her thighs rub against each other, their slickness a result of their combined fluids…..his and her own.
‘Look at him,’ she muses lustfully, scorning herself and her body for not being able to resist this….resist him. She doesn’t love him….*almost* hates him, but is unable to stop him.
‘Why cannot I stop this? Stop HIM?’
WHY?
She asks that question herself every time they are together… ‘Every FUCKING Time.’
----
“Stop thinkin’ and go to sleep,” a husky growl breaks the silence in the room as he turns over and mirrors her.
“Wha…” she starts.
“Yer heartbeat,” he instinctively answers the question, a large calloused hand rising up to rest in the valley of her perfectly formed breasts, his thumb playing with an erect nub. “Its fast. Not slow as in sleep. I can hear it.”
“You can HEAR it,” she asks incredulously, still startled by his superhuman senses. Her brow creases as she brings her own hand up to remove his, all the while trying to clamp down on the renewed wetness rising from a single touch of his.
“Yeah,” that insufferable smirk forms on his lips. The darkness makes him look more animal than human, both scaring and exciting her. “Just like I can smell yer wetness…yer heat…FOR ME.”
“Fuck you,” she scowls as she unsuccessfully tries to yank the hand, which leaves her breasts and moves down to her nether regions.
“Ya just did,” his reply is smug and oozing of a completely well deserved confidence. “Let me know if ya wanna do it again. I am always ready fer another round.”
He emphasizes his words by letting two thick digits enter her roughly, almost as roughly as he hardness did a few minutes ago.
“Well….” He let the words linger as he let another finger join the first two, stretching her even further.
“Why do you do this?” she asks with shameful tears in her eyes, even as she moves away from him and lies in his preferred position…..on her stomach, where he doesn't have to see her face….where he can imagine that it is not her that he has in his bed. It is not her that he is dominating…..that is not her that he is ‘putting his dick in.’
“Because YOU let me,” he whispers into her ear as he moves behind her and lines up along her slit.
“And she doesn’t,” her eyes glow with barely controlled rage, a expression that would cause any man to step down…..any man who is not him. Who is NOT the Wolverine.
“No,” there is no hesitation in his voice…..rather a sick pride that both shames and excites her.
“Not yet.”
-----
Soon they are moving in a familiar rhythm, her eyes clenched as she once again tries to picture someone else….the man who loves her….the man she loves. ‘Love,’ even the word makes her body burn, but not for her true love…..not at this moment. At this moment, she burns for him, the bastard yanking her hair and rutting over her….like an animal….the animal that he is.
An animal…..that what he is. She knows that now…..at least with her. She had thought that she would be able to draw the man out.
She even tried….but not anymore.
Not now.
------
Now she just wants him to mount her, fuck her to his and more importantly her orgasm, yank up his pants and depending on the time and place either leave himself or push her out.
And that is one thing he never does. He takes his time, he enjoys it…..enjoys her. Oh, he fucks her…..FUCKS, not makes love but fucks. Just as she does to him. But then he doesn’t leave, he just lounges around. Like he own the place…..owns her.
‘Which he does,’ a faint cry rises from the depth of her mind. ‘He owns you…..he has taken possession of your body…not your heart.’
Why? She knows the answer to that too. Because while he gives his own body to her in return, he doesn’t give his heart…..he CANNOT give his heart.
His heart is not his own…..not any more.
It belongs to someone else.
Someone that is not her…..someone who will take care of it, cherish it….who already does that.
That someone who makes him the man that IS there in the animal.
-----
‘If only she would take his body too,’ she scowls and shudders at that thought.
Scowls because she wants it to happen. She wants him to leave her alone and go away….and take away the animal that lives inside him.
Shudders because she fears what will happen to her when that day comes….when he will leave her….when the owner of his heart finally accepts and stakes her claim over his body. Just as she has over his heart.
*When* and not *if*….Its only a matter of time.
-----
“Lo…mmph,” her orgasmic cry is muffled by the soft pillow he pushes her face into, the rest of her boy writhing under him….his movements gathering speed indicating the proximity of his own release.
That is one thing that he is good for…..an orgasm. A cheap and always assured one. Cheap not for the monetary cost…there is no money changed. Not the physical cost….at least not for him. Her own body, a ravaged battlefield will be aching tomorrow….the scars and welts lasting for at least a couple of days.
The cost is of her self-respect…..and more importantly trust. Trust that an honorable man has placed in her. Trust that she abuses every time she comes to him….either to fuck him or just service him to release…..but never kiss…..not even a single one….except for the first time…..the time he DID make love to her and caused her to become addicted to him.
“Uhn,” his grunt and the filling of her insides tells her that while she has been wallowing in his own self-pity, he has reached his climax….his healing factor still keeping him hard. Not for her sake, but only for his….for letting him maintain his fantasy a bit longer….his mind imagining that the woman lying under him has darker skin, a more curvier figure and longer, silkier, snow colored hair.
------
“Thanks darlin’,” he grunts as he finally withdraws from inside her, draws the sheet up to his waist and turns the light off.
‘Thanks darlin’,’ the words echo in her mind, reminding her of their RELATION…..his next words hammering in the proverbial nail.
“By the way, when is One-Eye comin’ back?”
Note: Like I said....not a nice one. Hope you liked it.
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