“You cold?” Logan asked, watching Ororo rub her arms. They had been driving for hours without a stop and the silence was beginning to grate on his nerves.
She didn’t even glance at him. “I don’t get cold.”
“Hnh.” He adjusted the rearview mirror, for no other reason than for something to do. He was restless, more so than usual, and it had a lot to do with his fierce attraction to his white haired passenger.
After another long silence Ororo glanced at the map on her lap, running a finger along the route they should be taking. “You sure about where we’re headed?”
“Yes. There are dozens of caves and old hunting cabins in these mountains,” he answered, reaching for his cigars on the seat between them.
Ororo grimaced. “Do you have to?”
“Yes.” He snipped the tip.
Ororo glanced at the map again when they passed an intersection. “I think you missed--”
“You wanna drive?”
“No,” she said, folding the map, then very calmly rolling down the window and chucking it out.
Wolverine raised one brow. “I thought ya were all about recycling and environmentally conscious.”
“I am.”
“Hnh.”
“Stop that.”
“What?”
“Grunting. It’s annoying.”
“Hnh.”
Ororo turned to gaze out her side window. Asshole.
Wolverine glanced at her and was momentarily distracted by her profile and the graceful curve of her neck as she watched the scenery. How come it was only now that he saw the smooth texture of her skin, and the dancing radiance of her brilliant eyes, or wondered how her silvery hair would feel in his hands. He had no answer to those questions, all he knew was he was getting hard just looking at her and the urge to pull over was damn near overwhelming.
“You were Black Ops, right?” she asked, surprising him.
“Huh?”
She turned towards him in her seat, curling one leg beneath the other. “Before the X-Men? You were Black Ops?”
Wolverine studied the road, suddenly intent on his driving. “I was a hired assassin before the X-Men, Black Ops before that.”
“Did you like it?”
He seemed confused by that question. “Never thought about it.”
“Hm.”
Wolverine puffed his cigar thoughtfully. “What about you? What’d you do before Xavier took you in and converted ya? Model, waitress, aspiring actress?”
Ororo smirked a bit at that. “I ate from trash cans and picked pockets.”
He looked at her speculatively. “Really?”
“Really. Then I got into carjacking and taking jobs… Hey, a restaurant. Let’s stop, I’m starved.”
Wolverine nodded, pulling off the road into the graveled drive of a small diner. He could go for some grub himself, but he found himself reluctant to let go of the conversation, finding the little tid-bit he’d just learned very interesting. Ororo Munroe had secrets.
The roadside diner was relatively empty when they entered. An old country song was playing on an old jukebox in the back. There was a young couple with a baby in one of the booths and two long haul truckers at the counter, drinking coffee and talking shop.
A skinny waitress approached them the moment they slid into their booth, holding a coffee pot in one hand and two mugs in the other. “Joe?”
Wolverine smiled cordially, a firm believer in treating wait staff respectfully. It lowered the risk of unwanted contents in one’s dinner. “Fill ‘er up.”
“You miss?”
“Is it fresh?” Ororo asked.
The waitress sniffed the top of the pot. “Not really.”
“How about strong?”
“It is that.” the waitress, whose name tag read: Rebecca, replied.
“Me too, then.” Ororo nodded with a smile. She took a drink the moment the pot was lifted away from the mug. She winced at the bitter taste, but enjoyed the warm heat. After a silent deliberation they ordered. Cheeseburger and fries for Logan, bloody, with a beer. Cheeseburger and potato for Ororo with a coke.
Fingernails began drumming the tabletop in an abstract rhythm. After a minute Logan’s hand reached out, covering hers. “Stop that,” he said.
Ororo jerked her hand away as though he’d burnt her, his touch sending fire along her arms and through her body, pooling in her stomach. Goddess, the man was sexy. She looked at him through lowered eyes. His ebony hair was windblown and in familiar disarray, with several locks falling over his forehead. His silver and steel eyes glittered with a predatory gleam that made her want to run and melt all at once. Though he was not handsome in the typical way, she had always found him pleasing to her. Handsome was too ordinary a word for him. He was… raw… animalistic… primal. Ororo shook her head in order to scatter those very distracting thoughts.
“Sorry.” she muttered, referring to her finger tapping. Then, “Wait. Why the hell am I apologizing?”
“Because you should,” he smirked. “That was damn annoying.”
The glare she sent him should have peeled the skin off of his face. His smirk widened into a grin. He drank his coffee, noticing the darkening sky through the wide window they were seated beside. He glanced at her.
“Not me,” she mumbled, sipping her bitter coffee. “Rain,” she said flatly, “and hail.”
“Not pleasant for driving.”
She shrugged. “It’ll be gone before we head out.”
“Ya’d make a helluva weather girl,” he commented.
Ororo rolled her eyes. “Never, ever have I heard that before.”
Wolverine relaxed against the hard back of his bench seat, studying her.
“Why are you staring at me,” she hissed.
“Yer nice ta look at,” he answered plainly.
“Well, stop it.”
“No.”
Ororo looked out the window, trying not to let him bother her. She decided she‘d had enough of him rattling her cage, maybe he could use some discomfort. “You were Canadian covert too,” she said watching the rain fall. “That’s how you met Fury.”
He gave her a sharp look. “How the hell do you know that?”
“I broke into Xavier’s office and read your file.”
“Ya did what?” He seemed to be having trouble believing her.
“I read your file,” she repeated, enunciating each word carefully. Ororo watched him take a breath and knew he was trying to keep his temper under control. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He looked ferocious. Ferocious and sexy. Storm, get a grip, she told herself. “So what exactly did you do?” she asked him, looking him in the eye.
“Don’t ya know?”
“Parts of the file were highly classified.”
“I just bet they were.” His tone was snide.
Ororo added a packet of sugar to her coffee. “I don’t suppose anyone taught you to be obnoxious?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Just lucky and born that way. Yer one to talk. You’ve got the alienation ‘this is my personal space’ crap down pat, darlin‘.”
Ororo slowly stirred. “I’m an open book. You’re the one with the dark and shady mysterious past.” Her tone was mildly condescending.
Wolverine’s eyes narrowed into silver slits. “Leave it alone, Ororo. I don‘t like people pryin‘ inta my shit.”
“You don’t scare me.” She sighed, leaning back. “But I’ll drop it.”
He smiled. Maybe he didn’t scare her; he couldn’t smell it on her. She was different than anyone he’d known before. Challenging. And he liked a challenge. His teeth gleamed. “Did ya read the dossier Chuck gave ya?”
Ororo nodded, sipping from the ceramic mug in her hand. “This Creed guy apparently has severe violent tendencies.”
“He’s dangerous.” Wolverine acknowledged.
“I can’t imagine the Professor wanting a guy like that on the X-Men.”
One brow cocked.
Too late she realized the faux pas of that statement. Saving her from having to say anything to further exacerbate her blunder, the waitress approached with their meals. Immediately she lifted her burger and took a hearty bite.
“You were hungry.” Logan commented.
“Told you,” she replied, swallowing.
“So ya did.”
They ate their meals in silence, eating unhurriedly, but quick enough to get back on the road before nightfall. After the tab was paid and a more than generous tip left, they made their way outside, and true to Ororo’s word, the rain and hail had stopped.
Back inside the SUV, Ororo asked, “If Creed doesn’t want to be recruited, what then?”
Logan turned the ignition. “We eliminate the threat.”
Ororo’s mouth fell open. “You’d kill him?” she asked, incredulous.
Wolverine glanced at her. “I thought ya said ya read my file. It‘s what I do, princess. I‘m the best there is at what I do, and what I do ain‘t pretty.”
“I did. Cover to cover. But apparently I missed the part where you kill people for not wanting to become X-Men.”
“What the fuck d‘ya expect me to say?” he cursed. “If Creed is half as dangerous as his file indicates, then we have to be prepared to make the tough call.”
“This is unbelievable,” she said, shaking her head. “I know the Professor wants us to learn many skills, but killing?” she shook her head again. “Not me.”
Logan gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. “I think ya can handle it.”
“Excuse me?”
“From what I’ve seen, yer two different people. There’s Storm, the X-Man, and then there’s Ororo, the woman.” The way he said woman sent a shiver of excitement along Ororo’s spine. “Storm is hard and cold, but in the end she gets the job done,” he continued. “The others, they let their emotions get in the way. Become too involved. Yer detached when on a mission.”
Ororo shifted in her seat. “I kinda have to be.”
He simply continued to look at her.
“My powers are tied into my emotions. If I’m not careful, people…well, people get hurt.” She turned her eyes away from his direct stare.
“I know the feelin’.”
She cleared her throat. “I just bet.”
“Hnh.”
She rolled her eyes. Wolverine pulled onto the road. They had traveled a mile before he spoke. “So, yer an open book, huh. Tell me about yourself.”
She countered. “Tell me about that time you went to California?”
Wolverine’s head snapped around. “What the fuck do ya know about that?”
Ororo flinched. “Only that you went as a favor to General Fury to take care of a threat. A mutant threat.”
“How the hell did ya get that little piece of info, darlin’? Chuck don’t even know about that.”
She looked away. “Henry. He hacked into the Justice Department records. It was a thinly veiled file, and your name was never mentioned, but we got the gist.”
“Oh, yeah? And what is it ya think I did?”
Ororo directed her gaze towards his ticking jaw. “I think you killed a fifteen year old boy to prevent him from unwittingly killing another few hundred people with his mutation. The chemical plant spill was a nice cover story, but the Mutant Underground all knew it was you.”
“Mutant Underground?”
“It’s a bunch of mutant teenagers mostly. Trying to deal with mutation on top of all the teenage bullshit life hands them. ”
Wolverine considered this. “Well informed teenagers.”
Ororo shrugged. “Must have been tough, killing that kid,” she said quietly. “Even for you. Having to murder someone just because they’re a mutant. Kind of goes against everything the X-Men are fighting for.”
Wolverine grunted, but made no verbal response.
“What makes this Fury guy judge, jury and executioner, anyways?” she asked.
Wolverine flicked on the headlights. “He does what needs ta be done. What the other bureaucratic pussies are too chicken shit to do. He takes care of his own.”
“How do you figure in? You scratch his back, he scratches yours?”
“This is the point at which this conversation is officially over,” he growled. “You hacking into the Justice Department could’ve gotten ya into some serious shit.”
She seemed unconcerned. “Probably.”
“No probably about it. Just be glad ya weren’t traced.”
“Or what? It’d be me you‘d have to take care of?”
Wolverine didn’t comment, but the set of his jaw told her she hadn’t wanted the answer anyway.
After another silent few hours and seemingly endless miles later, on a road more dirt than pavement, Logan flipped on the heater, “I don’t want to have ta worry about ya out here. Yer gonna have to listen ta me, every single step of the way. You got that?”
“You want blind obedience?”
“Exactly.”
Ororo pursed her lips, his tone irritating her. “I can handle myself.”
“How much survival training have you had?”
She chose to ignore his well placed point. “I have skills.”
“I just bet you do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“Yer an open book, remember.”
Of all the stupid people on the planet to be stuck with, she had to be partnered with the most obnoxiously arrogant man of them all. She said as much and was rewarded by a deepening scowl that could have been chiseled in stone.
“I didn’t ask fer yer company, sugarplum, and I sure as hell won’t stop ya from running back ta Chuck.”
“Forget it, Wolverine. You’re stuck with me.”
Suddenly the SUV veered left, causing Ororo to grab onto the ‘Oh shit!’ bar. “What?” she asked.
Instead of answering Wolverine slammed the vehicle into reverse and backed up, the tires spitting gravel. “There.” He pointed to a small store, down a narrow dirt road, about half a mile into the dense woods. She could just make out the small rustic building through the trees. How he had spotted it driving she had no idea, but Ororo saw it now.
“That’s the only store fer miles. If this Creed fella is in these woods, he’ll have stopped in there.” He pulled in front of the small store that had a sign in the window ’Cabins for Rent’ and unhooked his seatbelt. “Wait here.” he told her, opening his door.
“Absolutely not. If I’m to be the sexual bait for this guy, I need to be seen.”
Wolverine glowered. “What did I just get done sayin’?”
“Fine.” She glared back at him. “What exactly are you going to do?”
“Go hunting.”
For fifteen minutes Ororo sat in the black and silver SUV, waiting. She was just about to head into the store, despite Wolverine’s adamant protest, when the driver’s side door opened and Logan slid into the truck. She never even heard him coming.
“He’s close.” He started the engine.
Ororo raised a silver brow. “How close? Like hiding behind a tree or bush close?”
Logan shook his head. “The owner of the store wasn’t talking, but he knows something. Wouldn‘t even rent me a cabin after I asked about Creed.”
“How do you know it has anything to do with Creed?”
He stared intently out the window. “Because the guy in there picked up the phone not twenty seconds after I stepped outta the store. He’s callin’ someone, and dollars ta donuts it’s Creed.” He rolled the truck back, making it look like they were leaving, but instead of hitting the road, he drove behind some trees.
Ororo frowned. “So, now what?”
“I’ll give him five minutes, then go back in.”
“For what?”
“Licorice.” He gave her an exasperated look.
“Well, before you go in all slicing’ and dicing’ maybe I could talk to him? I mean, he hasn’t seen me, yet. Couldn’t I go in and…I don’t know, ask to use the phone? Strike up a conversation?”
Logan contemplated that. “All right.” He opened his jacket and pulled out a handgun. “You know how ta use one of these?”
Ororo nodded, but didn’t take the weapon.
He nudged her with the butt. “Take it.”
“I have powers,” she reminded him.
“Goodie fer you. Take it.”
Ororo grabbed the pistol, shoving it in the back of her jeans and using her jacket to cover the bulge. “I hate guns.”
“Yeah, well, deal with it,” he told her as she hopped from the vehicle.
The store was small, filled with mostly beer and canned goods. Ororo made her way to the counter where a man in a red and black flannel stood, titillating his intellect by reading the articles in a Playboy magazine.
“Excuse me,” Ororo said as she approached. “Could I use your telephone?”
He didn’t glance up. “Ya gotta buy something’ first.”
Ororo reached the counter, leaning forward, her arms crossed in front of her. “I’m out of gas. If I could just use your phone to call AAA?”
The man behind the counter swiveled on his stool, the dark glower on his face evaporating when he saw her and instantly his mouth drooped. “I..uh..I, umm…Hoo boy.”
She smiled, “So the phone?”
Seven minutes later Ororo opened the passenger door of the SUV. “He rented us a hunting cabin about thirty miles south of here, a place called Eagle‘s Crossing,” she said. “Turns out you were right. Victor Creed spends a couple of months a year out here.” She tossed a small map onto the seat, the directions outlined in black sharpie.
“How in the fuck?” Logan asked incredulously.
“To quote Julia Roberts, they’re called boobs, Wolverine.”
“Yer not comin’ with me,” he said flatly.
Ororo sat straighter, buckling her seatbelt. “Oh, yes, I am.”
“Listen to me,” he ordered. “Stay here, grab a bite from the snacks, I’ll call in Xavier ta come get ya.”
“You want me to sit here and munch on Cheetos-- after I practically flashed Elmer Fudd to get these directions-- while you go to Eagle’s Crossing?”
“Yes. If I go alone there’s a good chance I’ll find a good spot ta ambush him. I don‘t have time to baby-sit you.”
She gave him a narrow look. “I don’t need a babysitter. This guy has potential information that I need, and if you kill him, I won’t get it. So, I’m going with you. When I get what I need, then you can do your thing and I won‘t say boo.”
He snorted at that. “Ye’ll just slow me down. Besides, there’s a good chance Chuck’s full of shit and Creed don’t even know who the fuck the Brotherhood are.”
“It’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
He was adamant. “We don’t even have a good bead on the guy, this could take hours or days.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You go without me, and I’ll follow you. I’ve seen the map, I know the way.” He was silent. “The longer we argue, the more likely a sudden rain will wash any scent or tracks away,” she added with a smug smile.
Wolverine pulled out a cigar. “Yer a piece of work,” he muttered.
“And you’re an obstinate, opinionated jerk. What of it?”
“Fine. The second ya slow me down I’m leaving ya.”
Ororo nodded. “I’ll keep up with whatever pace you set.”
“We’ll see.” He said as they pulled onto the narrow dirt road.
They traveled in relative silence, the only sound in the cab of the pickup was the faint squeak of the wiper blades as they passed back and forth across the windshield.
After a while he glanced at her and asked. “Is it real?”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“Yer hair. I’ve never asked before. Is it real?”
She gave him a perplexed look. “Why?”
He shrugged. “Curiosity.”
“The carpet matches the curtains, if that‘s what you‘re asking.”
He chuckled. “Colored contacts?”
“No.”
Curiosity seemingly satisfied Logan once again focused on navigating the bumpy trail. Ororo watched his profile thoughtfully. He was sexy as hell. No sense pretending she didn’t notice, but she didn’t have to like that she found him so attractive.
“What?” he questioned.
She hastily looked away. “Nothing.”
The self assured smirk on Logan’s face reappeared. “Hnh.”
The forest became thicker, drowning out the last remnants of the afternoon’s fading light. “This is it.” Logan said as they approached a rustic log cabin.
Ororo leaned forward in her seat, peering through the windshield at the single story cabin. As far as judging cabin’s went she had very little experience, but she assumed the structure she was looking at was good enough. For a girl who’d spent over half her life sleeping on the streets, she’d slept under and in worse.
The inside of the cabin was sparsely furnished with only two recliner chairs and a small table to mark a sitting area. A black iron fireplace/stove marked the kitchen. The walls were adorned with animal heads and varying sized antlers.
“Cozy.” Ororo muttered, dropping her bags and focusing her flashlight along the walls.
Wolverine elbowed past her, shutting the screen door behind him. “It ain’t meant ta be the Holiday Inn.” He set his one small duffel on the table.
“You pack light,” she commented.
“Only the essentials.” He pulled out a six pack of Molson and a fresh cigar, making himself comfortable at the kitchen table. He looked around the cabin, nodding his head every once in awhile. “Not bad. Ain’t as nice as mine, but--”
“You have a cabin?”
Logan popped the tab on one of the six beers, slurping up the foam. “Yup.”
“Oh.” Ororo glanced around the open room. “I suppose it would be too much to assume there is indoor plumbing and a bathroom.”
Logan chuckled. “It ain’t that rustic, angel. I’m sure there’s a bathroom. Hell, there’s even a light switch right behind ya.”
Feeling like a complete moron, Ororo flicked the switch she had overlooked. An old iron chandelier flickered to life, illuminating the room in a soft golden hue. It was then she saw something that made her breath catch. In the darkest corner of the cabin, pressed along the back wall was a horrific sight. A narrow bed. One single, narrow bed.
Following her gaze Logan felt his body thrum to life. Desire raged instantly, pooling hot and hard in his groin. He slowly rose to his feet, walking back towards her, towards his tormentor.
Ororo felt her insides tremble at his approach. There was no mistaking the glimmer in his dark eyes, nor the way his pants seemed tighter than before. She shook her head slowly, unable to voice anything due to the tightness of her entire body.
Fathomless black orbs glittered at her. “’Ro…” Logan growled. Large hands framed her face, his thumbs skimming her bottom lip. “Let me taste you.”
Heatedly their mouths merged, and Ororo couldn’t say who actually initiated the kiss, because it was like being consumed and engulfed in flames. The passion was intense.
His hands moved and his blunt fingers traced the line of her jaw, down along the slender column of her neck, dancing along her collar bone until they skimmed over her breasts through the cotton of her shirt.
Ororo tried to form a coherent thought, but failed miserably, her body moving restlessly. The sensations sweeping through her were new and unexpected.
Logan leaned back, his midnight gaze holding hers. He cupped her breast through her shirt, his thumb flicking her nipple. Ororo moaned, her body arching into his touch. He smiled, slow and lazy, and knowing. “You want me,” he groaned. “No use denying it, Storm.” He leaned in close, his mouth skimming hers with each word of harsh truth he gave her. “I can smell it on ya. You want me ta fuck ya.”
She gasped at his crude remark, and onceagain as his hand found it’s way beneath cotton to touch bare flesh. Logan pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling the erect nub back and forth. “Go ahead. ‘Ro. Deny it. Lie ta me.”
She weakly tried to push him away, frustrated that her entire body felt like melted wax . “I don’t want…” She was unable to finish as her words and breath were stolen as Logan’s hot mouth replaced his hand on her breast. Involuntarily she reached for him, her fingers threading through his thick ebony hair holding him to her.
Logan laved her toffee colored nipple adoringly, nipping the tender bud between his front teeth, exhaling a slow puff of air, cooling her then licking again. The throaty little sounds she was making were driving him mad. Lifting his head reluctantly from her tantalizing chest, he pulled her face to his, baring his fangs at her in warning before claiming her mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue demanded access and she was helpless to resist him, the pleasure his touch caused, scorching her.
He groaned, pulling his jacket off and tossing it aside hastily. “I tried,” he muttered, to no one in particular.
“Heaven help ya, ‘Ro, I tried not to want this.” He pressed her against the door frame, letting her feel his thick erection pressed into her abdomen.
Ororo was lost in a sea of sensual pleasure. She had no idea what Logan was saying, and to be honest, she didn’t really care. His teeth nipped at her lower lip and he growled at her, his dark eyes locking with hers in a battle of wills. He tugged her shirt over her head, baring her upper body completely to his heated gaze.
“Christ, ya’ve got the most incredible tits,” he breathed, his palms lightly skimming the tight peaks.
Ororo struggled for sense, for rationality, but all she could find within herself was a raging desire to be his. “Wolverine…I can’t. I need…to think…”
His response was muffled against her neck. He bit her along the tendon, nipping her shoulder and lower, his days growth whiskers scratching the over sensitized skin of her stomach. -SNIKT- Her belt was sliced away. One long, solitary claw traced the seam of her pants, rending them apart. He gripped the sides of her revealed panties, tearing the lace garments off in his haste.
Logan’s cock jerked compulsively at the erotic sight Ororo presented. With her long snow hair, and earthy skin and scent of rain she was the physical personification of nature. A wood nymph, sent to lead him to his doom, and fuck if he cared. The sight of her snowy curls against her dark skin sent waves of excitement through him. He reached out with slightly trembling hands and cupped her sex, his thick fingers probing her moist nether lips.
Ororo’s hips moved on their own, her body undulating into his palm, and strange foreign sounds of lust and want were coming from her throat. Her brain screamed at her to stop this, to stop him, but as he nudged her thighs apart all she could do was open eagerly for him, like a flower to the dawn. She cried out brokenly as he stroked her, causing a slick heat to pool in her groin.
“Fuck, baby, yer so fuckin’ wet,” Logan grunted. Unexpectedly she felt him against her sex, his mouth and tongue probing, lapping her most secret place
aggressively. “Taste…so good.” His whiskers tickled her thighs.
Ororo shuddered uncontrollably. She could feel her defenses wavering, her carefully constructed walls of preservation were coming down and every known and unknown repressed feeling she’d ever held for him in the darkest recess of her mind were spilling forth, tearing at her heart.
Logan made a low sound, and he pulled Ororo’s knees over his shoulders, pressing her back firmly against the wall. At her shocked gasp he grinned against her soft curls. “I wanna feel ya come on my face,” he rumbled.
Ororo shivered with need, but managed to shake her head. No. This wasn’t right. But then why did it feel so damn good? “Y-yes.”
Logan knew a momentary triumph. She was beyond ready for him. He could smell her, with his nose buried in her silky curls. She smelled like earth and rain, and now the spicy tang of a woman in heat. He licked along her clit, and she jerked violently. It was an involuntary response on her part, he knew, but it was a damn pleasant one. He repeated the laving process over and over, lapping her sweet juices, and causing her body to writhe in uninhibited passion. He almost came in his pants as she rode his face, lifting and sitting away from the wall in time with his tongue.
Ororo was mindless, the pleasure she was feeling almost painful. She made a defeated sound, somewhere between sob and moan. “I can’t…” she moaned.
Logan rubbed his fingers over her slick folds, saturating them in her essence. He slid them along her crease, his index finger probing the tight opening at her rear.
Ororo stiffened.
He slid his solitary digit in and out of her as his tongue stroked. “Come fer me, ’Roro. Come on my face,” he commanded.
And mindlessly, she obeyed. “Logan!!” she bucked and screamed.
“Yes,” he grunted in satisfaction, his teeth clamping on her engorged clit, making her cry out in pain. He locked his arms around her thighs when she would have retreated. He tugged the little pearl, grunting as her fluid drenched the lower portion of his face.
Ororo was still trembling with her first orgasm when Wolverine lifted her and roughly placed her face down in the floor, jerking her hips into the air. With an impatient grunt he unfastened his jeans, not bothering to remove them completely, instead jerking them to his thighs.
She only had time enough to glance over her shoulder and see his lips draw back in an brutal snarl as he ravaged her body in one excruciating, quick thrust, tearing her. She screamed at the unexpected invasion, trying to crawl away from him.
“Too late now, babe,” he grunted, thrusting in and out of her, his pace hard and frantic. He fisted her long hair in one hand, holding her upper body down, while the other hand locked on her hips, keeping her ass end raised to his plunging cock.
Ororo’s nails tore splinters from the wood beside her cheek. Tears began streaming along her cheeks as she felt his balls slapping her ass as he pounded and pounded into her, his growls of pleasure making her stomach tighten. Her mind and body warred with each other. Despite her fervent wish otherwise, her body delighting in his piercing possession, while her conscious shrieked at her. Her heart also warred, the darkest part wanting to believe that something that felt this good and this right must mean more to him as well. It wasn’t just a fuck. It was more, right?
Logan had never felt anything like being inside of Ororo. The scent of her release as well as the fresh scent of blood drove him on. He hammered, and thrust. Deeper, harder, faster. Fuck, she was tight. So fucking tight and wet. And hot. Like paradise. He grunted, and growled, his teeth bared. He wanted more. He was fucking her as har and as fast as he had ever fucked anyone and it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. He wanted to take her as himself.
Completely. He almost laughed out loud at the sheer idiocy of such a thing, but he was unable to make any sounds aside from the rough growls of pleasure emitting from his chest.
With a savage snarl he gripped her throat, yanking her back against the hard wall of his chest, his heated breath rasping in her ear. “I could fuck you forever! Yer so-hur-tight-ughn-so-hur-fuckin’ perfect.” He reached around, holding her jiggling breasts as his thrusts became even more powerful, threatening to cleave her in two. He latched onto her shoulder, his fangs piercing her skin and he came forcefully as Ororo’s coppery fluid teased his tongue. Jesus! His upper lip curled, revealing his sharp canines, still red from her blood, as his muscles tightened and corded as he orgasmed for what felt like an eternity, but was over far too fast.
Ororo moaned, her tender passage sore, but he continued to slam into her, and the Goddess forgive her, she didn’t want him to stop…
His voice was as hoarse and guttural as a wild animal as he ground out, “Yer the sweetest pussy I’ve ever had.” He slowly withdrew from her body, then padded silently towards what could be assumed was the bathroom.
Ororo lay unmoving on the floor, her breathing still labored and tears still flowing. She closed her eyes, welcoming the dark s she faded into blissful oblivion.
