Medlab
“Stop fussing. I’m fine.” Ali griped, rolling her eyes when both Kurt and Ororo ignored her. She hissed a quick breath as a cold cloth was pressed to her swelling cheek.
“See, you are not fine.” Kurt admonished, his yellow eyes still ablaze with repressed anger and concern. He adjusted the cloth. “Better?”
“Yeah.” Ali smiled tenderly up at him from her temporary bed.
“Here.” Ororo moved to stand behind the head of the bed and ran her fingers through Ali’s dark hair, picking out shards of disco ball mirror.
“I feel like a primate,” Ali grumbled.
“Mm.” Ororo was noncommittal, her hands shaking with the aftermath of everything that had transpired.
News of the sentinel attack had reached the Institute before they had and Xavier had greeted them at the front doors, immediately taking Alison to the medlab to be looked at--despite Ali’s repeated protests and complaints.
Ororo had followed, needing to assure herself that Ali was indeed fine. It had been slightly amusing to watch Xavier examine a very cranky Alison while at the same time trying to work around Kurt, who had refused to relinquish Ali from his arms.
Although relatively certain that Ali was out of any significant danger, Xavier had ordered her to sleep in the infirmary where he could monitor her overnight. Ali had argued but a three fingered hand over her mouth and an “Of course, Professor,” from Kurt had silenced even that rebellion. It was hard to resist Kurt, Ororo mused. He was just too warm and fuzzy and downright attractive.
His playful humor did nothing, however, to disguise his genuine distress over Ali being wounded in the Sentinel skirmish. He had yet to leave her side even for a moment. Not that Ororo could blame him; the attack had left them all shaken. The reminder of their own mortality at the hands of government machines designed for the sole purpose of mutant annihilation was a grim one.
Noticing that Ororo’s fingers had stopped combing, Ali leaned her head back. “You all right, sunshine?”
Ororo cleared her throat. “Sure.”
“Liar.”
“Yeah, well…I almost lost you , Ali.” Ororo dropped a handful of mirror into the small wastebasket under the counter. “Forgive me if I find that prospect a bit disconcerting.”
Al waved a hand, giving a dramatic laugh. “It takes more than an oversized Go-Bot to take me out.”
“Not funny, Al.”
“Agreed.” Kurt’s tail swished. “You do not know what it was like to see you laying on that floor, covered in blood, Alison. I do not think I will ever get that image from my head.” His voice shook and a dark streak appeared in the fur of his face.
“I’m right here, Fuzzy.” Alison tugged his hand, pulling him down to her.
Crouched beside her, Kurt pressed his forehead to hers, taking care to mind her cheek. “You scared me to death.”
“Sorry.” Alison whispered.
Deciding that she was one more person than was required in the room, Ororo kissed the crown of Ali’s bent head and ruffled Kurt’s hair. “I’ll see you in the morning. Get some rest.”
Ali turned her head. “You too. And, Ororo…”
Ali rarely used her name, making her pause. “Yes?”
“You were a little scary yourself.”
Ororo didn’t know what to say so she sidestepped the comment. “Goodnight, Ali. Take care of her, Kurt.”
“Always,” he vowed, his golden eyes never leaving Alison.
The mansion was unusually somber Ororo noticed as the elevator doors slid shut behind her. Given the events of the evening the shroud of disquiet that settled around the Institute was not unexpected, but it was still unsettling.
Slowly she made her way along the corridor, heading away from the classrooms and lobby towards the bedrooms. Small amber motion detector lights flickered to life as she strode the hall, their warm glow lighting her way. Not that she needed them. She would have known the way in the darkest of darks. An old habit of hers, she supposed. A desire to know where she was at all times, to know the terrain, map the buildings and keep it all mentally catalogued.
As she ascended the staircase, her hand resting lightly on the polished banister, her thoughts turned towards Logan, wondering where it was he had gone. He had not returned to the Institute with them and she wondered what he was thinking, and if he was coming back for her at all.
She inhaled a stuttering breath, trying in vain to push thoughts of him aside. It still hurt to think of him with Jean, kissing; the visual made worse by her imagination. In the van Jean had tried only once to speak to her, but a projected image of Ororo punching her hand through ribs and ripping out Jean’s still beating heart had effectively stopped Jean from attempting again.
Her room was cast in shadow, only a sliver of moonlight on her bedspread offered any relief to the gloom. With deliberate movements Ororo made her way to her dresser, removing the long earrings from her ears, pulling off the black bracelets on her arms, laying them carefully atop her vanity. Each motion was slow, methodical and meticulous; anything to prevent her mind from wandering back to Logan.
Once divested of all her clothing, save her white lace panties she crawled atop her bed, determined to sleep. She wasn’t going to think of Logan, she wasn’t…
***
Ororo was weeping. Logan’s stomach knotted. The sound was soft and muffled, most likely by her pillows, but he heard her and it broke his heart. In all his life, Wolverine never imagined that the sound of a woman weeping would tear him up the way Ororo’s soft cries were. He should have come to her immediately instead of riding to clear his head, and to rid himself of still lingering adrenaline.
He stood frozen outside her door, his head cocked, listening and debating with himself. What the hell was he going to say to her? ‘Hey, baby, sorry I didn’t tell you the one woman you’re insecure about was cramming her tongue in my mouth earlier, and even though I once tried to kill her pencil necked boyfriend, this kiss did nothing for me, pinky swear.’ Yeah, right, like she’d even let him get a single word out before sending a lightning bolt straight up his ass.
Another muted sob reached his ears. To hell with it, he thought with a grimace, turning the handle, mildly surprised to find the door unlocked.
Logan stopped short upon entering the room, momentarily frozen by the sight Ororo presented laying facedown on her bed in a pool of pale moonlight, her silvery hair shimmering and her bare back shaking with gentle force as she cried.
His hands clenched and unclenched at his side, uncertainty warring with fierce desire. He wanted to soothe her, to take her pain and make it his own. Silently he tugged off his weather beaten leather jacket, setting it atop his removed boots, followed by his shirt and jeans.
Still oblivious to him Ororo sniffled, cursing his name into the cotton of her pillow, garnering a small self derided smile from Logan. He lowered himself onto the bed, pulling Ororo back against him before she registered what was happening.
“Logan!” She gave a startled cry, trying to remove the steel band arm around her waist, immediately attempting to move away from him,.
“Easy, darlin’.” He murmured against the soft skin directly behind her ear.
Ororo shivered, cursing him again for his effect on her. “Let go.”
“No.”
After a few ineffectual moments of struggling she finally lay still, slightly panting, waiting.
He nuzzled the crook of her neck. “I hate when you cry.” His voice was gruff.
Ororo stiffened. “I know, it’s a waste of time and weak. I know.”
Logan shushed her, turning her to face him despite her resistance. “It ain’t that, darlin’.” He cradled her face, forcing her to meet his gaze, his eyes glinting like polished steel, hers swimming like cerulean pools.
“Then what?” she whispered, captivated by the smoldering intensity in his eyes.
“Ya tear apart my insides,” he confessed in a low voice. “I can’t stand that yer hurtin’ and that I’m the cause of it.”
Still defiant, despite the kick in her heart his words caused, Ororo tilted her chin. “I’m upset about what happened to Ali.”
Logan’s thumb traced the contours of her cheek, smearing the tears there. “No doubt,” he murmured, his voice thickening as he watched her tongue moisten her lips.
“Don’t.” She said quietly as he pulled her closer, his fingers playing with swirls of her ear, their absent motion causing her to close her eyes.
“I need to,” he replied huskily. He lowered his head slowly, rolling Ororo onto her back as he did so that he lay propped above her.
Ororo moaned, unable to help herself, relishing the taste of him on her tongue as he plundered her mouth. It was a kiss that demolished any defenses that she thought she had against him. Heated and deep, filled with passion and tenderness, it lasted a small eternity, and by the time it was over she could feel a telltale dampness between her legs and the firm hardness of Logan’s erection against her thigh.
Ororo pressed the flat of her hands against his hair covered chest, leveling him a searching look. “Logan--what happened with you and Jean?”
He gave a short puff of air, sitting back on his haunches, regarding her sprawled form. “Nothin’.” He stated flatly, running his palm over her flat stomach. Her skin was soft, like silk and warm.
She placed her hand over his, halting his exploration. “Not nothing,” she said sharply. “You kissed her.”
Logan growled slightly, a low rumble of sound, showing his displeasure. “First off, ‘Ro, I didn’t kiss her. I haven’t kissed anyone but you in months. She kissed me.”
“Oh, there’s a difference I suppose?” Ororo raised a brow, her tone scathing.
“Yeah, there’s a goddamn difference.” He snapped. “You kissed Cyclops.” His face contorted briefly, then he shook his head, as if ridding himself of an unwanted image.
Ororo flinched. “You kissed Jean first.”
“Woman,” he snarled. “Listen when I speak. I did not kiss Jean, she kissed me.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Logan ran his free hand over his face, letting out a long sigh. “Because, ‘Roro, there was nothin’ to tell. She kissed me, I told her I wasn’t interested and we left it at that.”
One snowy brow rose. “You told Jean that you weren’t interested?”
He gave her a look that begged the question are ya stupid? “Ain’t that what I just said.”
Ororo fidgeted, drawing Logan’s gaze to her bare breasts. “But it was Jean.”
He snorted, his eye line still directed on the steady rise and fall of her chest. “Yeah. And?”
“Logan, I know how much you loved her.”
His eyes snapped up to hers. “When the fuck did I ever say I loved Jean?”
Ororo blinked. “Well, I assumed--”
“Do us both a favor, ‘Ro, and stop assuming.” He gripped her outer thighs in his hands, rising up on his knees, tugging her towards him.
“Logan, wait.” Ororo gasped as he parted her legs, bringing them on either side of his hips.
He gave her a frustrated look, clearly wanting to be moving on to other forms of discussion.
“Why are you here?”
“What the hell kinda question is that?”
“A pretty simple one.” She said, ignoring the way she ached being so close to him, separated only by lace and cotton. “I don’t want you here if it’s just for…for this.” She lifted her hips slightly to emphasize her statement.
Logan bit back a groan and the urge to tear away the thin lacy barrier she wore like a shield at the moment. His fingers flexed on the muscles of her thighs, then slowly he moved away from her.
Ororo felt her chest seize. He was leaving. She took away the sex and he was leaving--“What are you doing?” She asked as he slid beside her, draping his thick arm over her middle, hugging her to him.
“Holdin’ you.” It was such a uncomplicated statement, yet one that sent her mind and heart into a wild turnabout.
“Holding me?”
“Yeah.” He levered himself up on one elbow, one ebony brow raised. “Did you take a knock ta the head tonight?”
She shook her head. “No.”
He chuckled. “That was rhetorical, darlin’.”
“Oh.” She blushed.
“’Ro?”
“Mm?” She slanted her face towards his.
“We ok?” He looked so grave and yet so vulnerable.
She rolled, facing him fully. “You really don’t want Jean?”
He touched her forehead, sliding silky strands from her eyes. “I really don’t want Jean. Or anyone else. Just you.”
Ororo couldn’t help but smile. “Only me?”
Logan grunted, his mouth curving. “Only you.”
“I’m sorry.”
He blinked. “Fer what?”
“Kissing Scott.”
Logan growled. “Ya don’t know what that did ta me. Seein’ him touch you.”
Ororo slid her hands along his chest to curl around his neck, snuggling closer.
Logan buried his fingers in her hair, fisting her long tresses. “I wanna be inside ya,” he whispered huskily, his eyes on hers.
“I want you too,” she murmured, pressing her lips to the base of his throat.
Logan groaned, rolling onto his back, pulling her atop him.
Ororo’s eyes danced as she watched his face, her mouth moving along his chest slowly, her tongue finding a flat nipple unerringly, flicking out to taste.
“’Ro.” His hands flexed in her hair, drawing her closer still.
Swinging one leg over his two, Ororo straddled him, her mouth still busy on his warm, salty skin. Tentatively Ororo undulated her hips, teasing his erection through his underwear obstruction. Logan’s growl was music to her ears.
“God, baby.” The tendons on his neck stood out in stark relief as she moved again, rotating her hips in a slow, rhythmic circle. Leisurely she traced her fingers through his thick chest hair, moving along his body, causing the muscles of his abdomen to flex and jump until she came to the spot where her body rested against his. Watching his shadowed face, Ororo moved her hands along her thighs, touching herself through the lace before sliding up her rib cage to cup her own breasts.
Logan shuddered beneath her.
“You like that?” she asked saucily.
“Fuck yeah.” He reached for her hand, bringing it back down to her lace panties. “There.”
Ororo smiled wantonly, surprising herself with her audacity. With deliberate relish she teased the elastic along the lace with her fingernails before sliding her hand between skin and lace. It was a unique experience, feeling her slick folds, hot and ready beneath her fingertips and Logan watching her with his hooded, dark eyes.
Hard. Fuck he was so hard. Logan growled, focused on the dark hand moving beneath white lace. Ororo moaned aloud, the sound inexplicably erotic, driving him to the point of madness and the very brink of his control.
Unable to keep himself in check any longer, Logan gripped Ororo’s rolling hips in his hands, flipping her beneath him and tearing her panties away in one fluid motion. “Need you,” he panted, yanking his own underwear off.
“Yes.” Ororo arched her back, a broken cry flying free into the night as Logan plunged home, deep and sure. “Logan, yes!”
“Goddamn, darlin’.” He ground his hips into hers.
She cried out, her body holding his within herself, so tight he groaned aloud. He drove deep, a long slow stroke that had him buried to the hilt. Her hand went to his hip, her fingers digging into the muscle there as he slid in and out of her.
“I want all of you. Give me all of you,” she panted.
He sank into her, felt a roaring heat rush through him, hammers tripping in his head as his blood pounded, begging him to let go. Just let go. With a snarl he pulled her hips closer, lifting her legs over his shoulders and began to ride her hard. Long, deep strokes that went faster and faster, causing his balls to slap her ass and sweat to break out over his body. He adjusted position, the angle allowing him to penetrate her as deep as possible while maintaining a constant friction against her most sensitive spot.
The walls surrounding his cock clamped with ferocious intensity. Ororo screamed, bucking beneath him, pulling him right over the edge with her. Logan’s mouth opened on a silent roar, his orgasm the most explosive he’d ever experienced, beginning in his toes and rushing through him like a tidal wave of excruciating pleasure. He quaked to the center of his being as he emptied himself into her.
He collapsed over the top of her, careful to lay the full bulk of his weight on her, burying his face in her hair. He closed his eyes, savoring her scent, her taste, the way she held him so tightly. She had drove him beyond control, but more than that, she had drove him beyond the man, beyond the animal, to a place he had never before been. It had been sex and lust and love all mingled together in an explosive combination and he hadn’t wanted it to end. He had wanted forever--he wanted forever still.
“I love you.” It came out of nowhere. He hadn’t intended on saying it. But there it was. Three little words that may just save his soul.
She went still, the breath catching in her lungs with an audible hitch. “Logan?”
Now that he’d said it, it felt right. He raised himself up, his face tight with lingering desire. “I’ve never loved a woman like I love you.”
Ororo cupped the side of his face in her hand, her thumb sliding back and forth across his stubble. “That is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He grinned, looking suddenly years younger. He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her mouth. “I’m starving.”
She laughed. “And they say romance is dead.”
He nipped her ear, rumbling a playful growl. “Be silent wench and fetch me some food.” He swatted her backside.
Ororo shrieked in mock outrage. “You dare!”
Logan’s mouth curved wickedly. “Oh, I dare.”
“You know, now that you mention it, I’m kind of hungry too.” She sat up, brushing sweat dampened hair from her shoulder.
“Let’s grab some grub.” He pulled her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her back and kissing her slowly. “Or…”
“Or?”
“Or we could wait awhile longer.” One broad hand cupped a weighty breast. “I think I need to work up a bit more of an appetite.”
Ororo’s breathless laugh tickled his ear. “Again?”
“Oh yeah, again.”
Soft sighs and guttural moans once more filled the bedroom and it was well past dawn before they made their way downstairs to the kitchen.
War Room
“Project Wideawake,” Xavier said gravely, “has been approved.”
A stunned silence filled the room and uneasy looks flickered between the X-Men. “They can’t be serious.” Jean said angrily. “I mean, Project Wideawake’s sole goal was to hunt down, capture, and study mutants. I thought that was squashed when the senate began debating the Registration Act instead.”
Xavier nodded. “So it was. Apparently that is no longer the case.”
“Yeah, apparently,” Ali commented with her trademark eye roll. “Hence the Sentinel smack down last night, huh?”
“Yes.” Charles sounded tired.
“So, what does this mean, exactly?” Kitty asked.
“It means that being a mutant is as it ever was,” Ororo said contemptuously. “An abominable state of being that makes tight wadded, anal retentive government officials squirm in their bed sheets at night and an out and out crime against humanity that must be squashed and done away with.”
Kitty opened and closed her mouth. “Oh.”
“That’s a bit more dramatic than I would have put it,” Charles said with a warning glance at Ororo.
“But pretty damn accurate,” Logan added. He handed Ororo a mug of coffee, taking the seat beside hers.
“Thanks.” She crossed her legs under her long black skirt, tapping one boot edgily against the floor.
“What about the Institute?” Scott asked, frowning. “What does this mean for us?”
“We are still effectively hidden from most government agencies.” Xavier said. “With the exception of S.H.I.E.L.D.”
Logan grunted. “And you think they won’t hand this place over on a silver platter?”
“Not for now,” Xavier stated. “Right now, we serve a purpose. We are a unique line of defense against mutant terrorists.”
“Yeah, until they proclaim us as mutant terrorists.” Ali argued. “What’s to stop them from seeing us as dangerous enemies as opposed to useful allies and activists? It isn’t like there’s a frikkin’ distinction between the two.”
“But there is, Alison.” Charles said. “It is the cause for which we fight.”
“Pfft.” Ali folded her arms over her chest. “You think a bunch of nut jobs that wanna round up mutants for study and isolation are going to see coexistence as non-threatening? Please. We’re a disease to them.”
“Great.” Kitty moped, placing her chin in the palm of her hand. “And just when I was getting used to sleeping through the night.”
“So what happens now?” Warren asked stepping forward. His wings were bandaged together to help heal the broken cartilage suffered at the club.
“We go on as though nothing has changed,” Xavier said. “You are the X-Men. It is your job to protect innocents, and maintain the hope of a peaceful coexistence between mutants and normal humans.”
“Forgive me for saying, Professor, but it is really hard to maintain that hope when one sees it as a dying ember,” Kurt murmured sadly.
“A dying ember but needs a fresh breath to ignite again, Kurt,” Xavier said. “I have every confidence that the dream shall endure.”
“Yes, but will we?” Jean’s soft voice asked.
Another silence descended over the room.
Logan stood, pushing his chair back. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough, eh, Chuck?” He cocked his head. “You comin’ in, Fury?”
The War Room door opened allowing Nick entrance. “Logan.” He greeted. To the others he nodded.
“Ya come here to give us a pep talk?”
“Not at all.” Fury stood in the front of the room, his jaw set. “I’ve come to inform you that Xavier’s is now under SHIELD jurisdiction. You work for me now.”
“Professor?” Cyclops gave the wheelchair bound man a questioning look. “What is he saying?”
“He’s sayin’ SHIELD just got themselves some new weapons, ain’t that right, Nicky.” Logan said, his face tight with barely contained ferocity.
“I am saying that in order to prevent this place being crushed under a sentinel boot heel I have taken the proper precautionary measures.”
“Hnh.”
“I don’t expect any of you to like it, but the fact is unless you want to be detained in a government holding cell, this is the only option you’ve got.”
“So a metaphorical cage versus a real one?” Ororo said snidely. “Lovely options.”
Xavier’s voice echoed in all their minds. ~Silence.~ “I believe General Fury when he says that this is the only recourse available to us at this time.”
“And yer just steppin’ up for us outta the goodness of yer heart, eh?” Wolverine smirked. “What’s the real deal? How are the X-Men scratchin’ whatever itch you got, Fury?”
Nick leveled Logan a solitary stare. “Magneto.”
“What about him?” Warren asked. “Don’t you guys have him in a nice padded cell somewhere?”
“We did.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” Ali demanded. “You lost Magneto?”
“When?” Jean asked, gripping Scott‘s hand.
“A few days ago.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t suppose SHIELD’s screw up is the reason behind Project Wideawake.” Logan was sardonic.
Fury placed his palms on the table, leaning forward. “Project Wideawake is the direct result of mutants becoming overly hostile and making threats upon the US government, among other things.”
“Overly hostile?” Ororo echoed. “How would you react, General, if you were persecuted and attacked simply for who you were. Your life threatened daily and never ending amounts of hate flung at you constantly. Wouldn’t that make you a wee bit hostile, or are you going to look me in the eye and proclaim sunshine and rainbows would still be shooting out of your ass?”
Ali snorted. “Nice.”
“Look, Miss Munroe--”
“No, you look.” Ororo stood. “Last night people nearly died. Mutants, assuredly, but people. I don’t think you see that. For some reason mutant and person are not synonymous for you people. You can’t just march in here and proclaim the X-Men as government weapons to be used at your discretion. We’re people not property.” Thunder boomed outside and the lights flickered overhead.
Logan placed a hand on her arm. “Easy, darlin’.”
“I’m sorry, Miss Munroe, but ordinary people can’t do what you just did. Like it or not, your powers make you a dangerous threat, and it is my job to deal with threats by any means necessary.” His hand rested on the gun holstered at his hip.
“You haven’t seen dangerous,” Logan growled. “But threaten her again, and you will.”
Cyclops and Jean stood, ready to defend as well. Followed by Ali and Kurt.
“Will my X-men please settle down.” Xavier said, trying to diffuse the situation.
“But ain’t that the rub, Chuck. We ain’t yer X-men anymore.”
“Wolverine, please just--” The shrill sound of the main alarm sounded and the War Room screens flickered to life, displaying a world map and a blinking red dot in the middle of the Pacific ocean.
“What the hell is that?” Fury demanded.
“That would be your mistake,” Logan muttered.
“Magneto,” Charles stated. “It appears he is somewhere near the island of Genosha.”
“Shit.” Fury swore.
“What’s on Genosha, Nicky?” Logan asked, watching the other man’s guarded expression.
“Classified.”
“Hnh.”
“Get your gear and come with me,” Fury ordered pointing to Logan, Ororo, Scott, Jean, Kurt and Ali.
No one moved.
“That’s an order!”
Again not a muscle twitched.
Xavier sighed. “You will do as he says.”
Slowly Scott stepped away from the table. “Let’s move, team.”
Jean and Kurt trailed him.
Ororo turned to Fury. “I am going because I choose to go. Not because you ordered me to.”
“She’s a brassy one,” Fury muttered.
“You got no idea.” Logan said moving to follow Ororo out.
“Wolverine!”
Logan paused in the doorway.
“I need a word with you when we get back.”
With a grunt Logan left the room, jogging to catch up with Ororo, who was stomping her way onto the elevator. He caught her about the waist and swung her in a circle.
“Logan!”
“I like it when ya get all sassy.”
“How do you do it?” she asked when he put her down.
“What?”
“Let them treat you like a weapon. Like a thing.”
He shrugged. “It never really mattered. I used them, they used me. I need answers, some of them Fury has. Others, he knows who does.”
“So he uses pieces of your past like bargaining chips?”
“Pretty much.”
Thunder groaned.
“’Ro?”
“That past is rightfully yours! How can he keep it from you like some sort of--of doggy treat for a mission accomplished? It’s disgusting!”
Logan had never seen her so worked up before, her blue eyes completely white and glowing, snippets of electricity crackling from her hair. She looked royally pissed, and incredibly attractive.
Without warning his hand shot out, slamming the emergency stop button.
“Logan?”
He growled, lifting her skirt to bunch at her waist. He knelt in front of her, his mouth moving along her thighs and teasing her center through her panties.
“I don’t know why you bother with these,” he grumbled, sliding them down to her ankles. He stood, unsnapping his pants and dropping them to his knees, turning her against the wall. He moved behind her, sniffing her neck and slamming into her in one hard thrust.
“Ah.” Ororo moaned, arching her back. “The others…”
“Can wait,” he panted. “Fuck, you feel good.”
Ororo lifted her eyes, catching their reflection in the mirrored back wall of the elevator and she was held entranced by the picture they presented. Logan followed her eyes, also captivated by their reflection.
Her with her full mouth slightly parted in frantic pants and long hair falling about her face with each forceful thrust from Logan.
Him with his lips curled in an expression of ecstasy, his dark head bent close to her snowy one.
“God, yer so fucking perfect,” he groaned, pulling her hips back and bunching her skirt at his wrists, pounding into her.
“Harder,” she demanded.
Logan growled, fisting her hair, pulling her back, his orgasm approaching quickly as his tattoo increased, harder and harder. “’Ro. Fuck, fuck!”
Ororo spread her legs wider, moving his hand between her thighs.
“So wet.” Logan closed his eyes, trying to stave his approaching climax. “So hot.”
“For you,” she rasped. “Only for you.”
“Come for me.” He rubbed his thumb aggressively around her clit in alternate time to the thrusts from his cock.
Tightness coiled in her stomach, making it hard to breathe. “Logan!!” Ororo’s scream was deafening as she shattered, rocking against his hand, soaking him. She sobbed, her knees giving way. “Siet ala amiweih. Soku! Soku!”
Logan tightened his arm around her waist, holding her upright, allowing his orgasm to finally wash over him. He jerked her head to one side, his mouth clamping over the junction between neck and shoulder to stifle his own roar of release.
Unwelcome, reality came back into focus. Realizing that the others were probably wondering where the hell they were Logan stood, adjusting his clothing, then helping her with hers.
Both satisfied and relatively calm he set the elevator in motion once more.
Logan pulled Ororo tight against him, kissing her slowly. “What was it screamed at the end there?”
Ororo blinked languidly, still pleasantly sedated from their lovemaking. “Hm?”
“Uh, Soku, something or other.”
Ororo frowned. “I have no idea.”
Logan raised a brow. “Really?”
“Really.” She nodded. “Don’t look so smug.”
“Well, hell, darlin’, it ain’t everyday a man makes a woman speak in tongues. Were ya touched by the holy spirit?”
She swatted his arm, amused and annoyed at once. “I was touched by something.”
His grin was devilish. “That ya were.”
The elevator doors slid open revealing the gangplank to the Blackbird.
“What took you?” Scott demanded from the hatch.
“Can it, One-Eye. We’re here ain’t we.” Logan smirked at Ororo. “That’s a mighty fine flush you got going on.”
Ororo glowered at him. “Oh, do shut up.”
His genuine laughter surprised everyone on the plane. “What are ya waiting for, Cyke. Let’s motor.” He said as he passed, moving to the back of the Blackbird where the uniforms were stored.
Ali tossed Ororo her uniform as she stepped onto the plane. “A little love in the elevator?”
Ororo mumbled a few choice words, slamming the bathroom door shut. Removing her clothes Ororo splashed cold water on her face, tying her hair back in a long ponytail. She gasped, seeing Logan’s bite mark on her shoulder, a warm flutter in her stomach at the sight. She touched her skin reverently, her eyes misting. Soku…
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