Title: Earth, Wind and Fire
Author: wolverine6claws
Pairing: Storm/Wolverine (Ultimate-verse)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: What would’ve happened had Marvel had the foresight to put Ro and Logan together BEFORE hooking them up with Hank and Jean, respectively. Okay, real summary… Ororo exposes Logan, in more ways than one. Be warned… lots of bonding going on here. Bonding, not bondage! Jeez!
Archive: Yes. Anywhere you like. Just drop me a line and let me know where I can find it.
E-Mail- wolverine6claws@yahoo.com
Series/Sequel: This is a stand alone one shot – but, hey, things can, and sometimes do, change. (especially if FEEDBACK demands it)
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, wish I did. Marvel owns ‘em, I just like to play with ‘em. No disrespect ever intended, to Marvel or the X-Men, they are my friends an’ I love ‘em both.
Warnings: explicit M/F sexual situations, some language
*Note* added (11/28/02) Ororo is 22 years old in this fic, Logan never looks his actual age… I’d say 25 ta 30, but I’m sure he’s twice that…if ya’ wanna think o’ them as older, go fer it… use yer imagination, an’ enjoy.
Earth, Wind and Fire
Ororo Munroe soared high above the pond, floating and spinning gracefully in a type of aerial ballet. Dancing on the air currents was her favorite form of relaxation, her own style of meditation, as it were.
Here, far from the mansion, she could find some peace, and privacy, away from the commotion that comes with sharing a home with a dozen other people. Here, she could shed her inhibitions, as well as her clothing, and revel in her nakedness and the wonder and power of the very elements she held in her command.
The moon was full and the night air was warm against her bared skin. The winds were still, except for the slight updrafts she conjured up to lift her higher in the night sky.
Allowing herself enough altitude she would twist and dive, spinning slowly and gracefully, head first, toward the earth.
At the last moment, she would arch her back, changing direction, and soar toward the heavens again.
This was, most definitely, where she belonged, where she felt most comfortable. Free from the bindings of civilized society, with its own set of morals and judgements of what was right or wrong, or deemed acceptable behavior.
The natural world was hers to command. The elements, hers to control.
She understood the power and the beauty of nature, its elegance and its fury, like few others could.
As she twisted lazily high above the water, admiring the stars above her and the moonlight reflecting on the glassy surface below, something caught her eye.
In the shadowy darkness of the forest below something moved.
Ororo stilled herself, coming to a graceful halt, and watched as he stepped out from the cover of the tree line.
She recognized him immediately, his trademark cowboy hat giving him away.
She had no problem seeing him, even this late at night, as the fullness of the autumn moon – a Harvest moon, they called it – illuminated the ground below.
It didn’t surprise her that he was out here. Like her, he came here often, especially at night and, she supposed, for the same reasons – to find some peace and solitude, and to escape the manacles that society tried to bind him with.
* * *
The other team members thought he was strange – wild, unpredictable and violent, a loner that couldn’t be trusted. They saw him as an unfeeling killing machine, created by a government that used him and abused him, exploiting his gifts for their own selfish means. They referred to him as damaged goods… damaged and dangerous.
They didn’t trust him. They didn’t understand him. They didn’t even try.
Scott treated him as though he should be giving thanks, on bended knee, for being allowed to stay among them. He treated him like a stray dog, rescued from the streets and given a home. What Scott really wanted, she knew, was for Wolverine to submit to his command and admit that he was ‘top dog’.
But Wolverine would never submit to the likes of Scott Summers.
Ororo doubted that Wolverine had ever, or would ever, present himself submissive to anyone.
He was self-reliant, independent, and volatile. He was self-assured, and confident of his abilities, almost to the point of seeming arrogant.
He was a predator… baptized as such by nature. He was as elemental a creature as she was. But while she was elegance and beauty, he was atavistic and primal.
He was cunning and intelligent beyond their knowledge or imagination. He was seemingly calm on the surface, but, she knew, there was a turbulent, volcanic rage hidden within that he fought desperately to keep under control.
Together, they represented all the characteristics of their mother, Nature.
If Ororo was the wind, then he was the earth.
She was quiet, graceful elegance who held the very power of the elements in her tiny hands. And he? He was the embodiment of nature’s uncontrollable fury.
He was a born predator, a beast that walks like a man.
And she was sure that many had tried to tame him, domesticate him… break him.
‘They’ had tried to harness his power.
But like nature herself, when that power is underestimated or mishandled, he can quickly become a raging maelstrom, an unimaginable destructive force.
Break him? Never.
A spirit such as his, born of strength and a need - a desire - for freedom, could never be broken. Sure, they could torture him, keep him caged, and take away everything and everyone he ever cared about…
They took away his memory, and a life he’ll probably never remember. They took his predatory instincts and conditioned them, honed them, hurt them - made them angry instincts, forged on pain and rage.
They wiped his mind clean and re-trained him. They trained him to be a soldier – a killer of undeniable skill.
But they never broke his spirit.
And Ororo liked him. She understood him, probably more than he understood himself. She understood, and accepted, her own elemental needs and desires, but Wolverine didn’t understand his, and he didn’t accept them. He believed that the beast that dwelled within him was put there, like a weapon to be used when needs dictated.
They made him believe that it was an ugly thing, a thing of murder and mayhem… a thing that made him less than human. A thing they used, to justify their treatment of him.
Humans fear him because he’s a mutant. Mutants fear him because he’s animalistic, and because he reminds them of the beast that is hidden within themselves. But Ororo saw him as a reminder of their evolutionary beginnings. Human or mutant, we all came from the same ancestry.
Mutants were considered the outcasts of human society, and he was an outcast even among outcasts, a misfit among misfits. And the others didn’t seem to realize that they were treating him with the same distrust, and prejudice, that human society bestowed upon them.
‘They weren’t being fair.’
* * *
Ororo watched him from above as he stood looking out over the glassy surface of the pond.
After a few moments, he removed his denim jacket and placed it neatly on the ground, and taking off his hat, he set it down on top of the jacket. He slowly toed off his work boots and casually unbuttoned his shirt, peeling it slowly off his broad shoulders, exposing his muscular torso. Then, raising one foot at a time, he rolled off his socks and dropped them next to his boots.
Ororo’s eyebrows arched as she watched him strip off his jeans and….
‘Oh, goddess, he doesn’t wear underwear.’
For a brief moment Ororo felt her cheeks flush, and then she realized…
‘How confident and natural he seems’. One with nature, just like her. And he was so beautiful, so muscular, so… male.
She couldn’t help but stare, he had the healthiest physique she had ever seen on any man. He was stocky, with broad shoulders that seemed as wide as he was tall. A muscular, barrel-shaped chest covered by a thick carpet of dark hair, tapered down to a narrow waist and well-defined abdomen. He had slender hips, and the image of her wrapping her legs around them in the throes of passion suddenly popped into her head.
He had a small, muscular butt that seemed the perfect topping for huge, powerful thighs and calves.
‘Imagine the thrusting power behind those.’ She thought before she could stop herself. ‘Goddess! What is wrong with you?’
She watched him walk into the water until he was submerged up to his chest. He lazily dragged his hands across the water just beneath the surface, then he tipped his head back, revealing his face to the light of the moon.
His eyes were closed, and he breathed in a deep sigh as he relaxed, finding his sense of peace in the solitude the night offered.
‘Yeah, solitude, right. Except for the Peeping Tom hovering above you.’
She tried to feel bad about invading his privacy, but she felt so privileged to see a side of him he didn’t reveal to others.
‘We’re two of a kind, you and I.’ she told him silently.
They were a matched pair, two sides of the same coin.
Exactly the same, yet exact opposites.
She was elegant, and he was rugged.
She was calm, and he was rage.
She was gentle, and he was rough.
She was feminine, and he was masculine.
‘And, oh, so masculine.’
Every single molecule of his body screamed male.
‘And every lovely inch, too.’ she mused.
Oh, how she wanted him. Had wanted him since the day they met him. But he didn’t seem to even notice her. He spent most of his spare time sniffing after Jean.
She was sure that the only reason he was attracted to ‘little Miss Priss’ – ‘oh, excuse me… Miss Jean Grey’ – was the fact that Cyke wanted her for himself.
‘It’s that ‘dominate male’ ego thing.’
Wolverine knew that Jean didn’t even like him, and Ororo believed that’s why he was always making passes at her. She didn’t want him. She didn’t even like him. She was safe.
Safe for him to play with, to taunt, to pursue… without having to worry that she’ll accept his advances. He didn’t have to worry about making promises, or a commitment.
‘Plus it really pisses off Scott.’ Ororo thought with a suppressed giggle.
But she was tired of Jean getting all the attention. She wanted Wolverine for herself. She understood him, and… he needed her. He just didn’t know it.
Deciding that now was just as good a time as any to make her move, Ororo slowly descended toward the pond’s still waters, her gaze never leaving him. He had a way of hypnotizing her, mesmerizing her, arousing her.
He was so beautiful, so natural, so… at peace?
She had never seen his angry features so relaxed. He was content in this solitude, his defenses were down, he was vulnerable… and she had to take care.
If she startled him now, she would lose whatever trust there was between them.
While she was still quite a distance away, Ororo sent a light breeze in his direction, letting it carry her scent to him gently.
As she descended to the water’s surface a few feet in front of him, he tilted his head forward and opened his eyes slowly, looking at her through heavy lids. But he didn’t move or speak, he just looked at her as if sedated.
She gave him an understanding smile, still unsure if he would shoo her away or accept her presence. He gave her the once over, taking note that she also was without apparel.
She had to admit that she was a little surprised that he didn’t gawk at her nakedness, or make a crude comment, before his eyes drifted shut again.
Ororo wondered if she should try to say something, and if so, what exactly. She was pulled from the thought by the sound of his voice.
“I’m not exactly dressed fer company.” he informed her quietly, as if it were his duty to make her aware of his unclothed state.
Ororo could swear that the baritone rumble from his chest actually sent tiny ripples across the water, tickling her flesh.
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” she replied softly, and settled herself in front of him.
The depth of the water in which he stood covered him to just below his massive pecs, and because she was a little taller than him, her breasts remained exposed to the night air. Not that she cared, modesty was never one of her strong suits, and this was the most natural way to be, as far as she was concerned.
She gazed at him, letting her eyes dance across his muscular chest and shoulders, taking in all his rugged beauty, in all its natural glory.
She fought the urge to reach out and run her fingers through that thick carpet of dark chest hair, to feel those hard muscles beneath her hand. Absently she let out a sigh, resigned to just stand there and appreciate the fact that she was being allowed to stay.
After a few moments, her gaze traveled up and came to rest on his face. Ororo had to swallow a gasp when she saw that he was watching her, his face still slightly inclined toward the sky, his expression unreadable.
When Wolverine had her attention, he raised one eyebrow in silent questioning.
Ororo wasn’t quite sure if the action was one of curiosity or if he was being smug. So she decided to ignore its possible meaning and, quickly recovering her composure, she gave him a friendly grin.
Wolverine squinted at her, obviously wondering what she was up to. Their eyes locked on one another, and it felt to her as if he was looking straight into her soul.
Finally, his eyes moved, and she watched as he returned the ‘favor’, giving her an unhurried perusal.
* * *
~God~ she had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon.
She was beauty and grace and courage and strength. She was gentle and tender and feisty and demure. She was a delicate flower, a sunrise, she was thunder and lightning, she was… perfection.
Her smooth cocoa brown skin was smooth, and looked as soft as velvet, and he yearned to reach out and touch her, to experience her through the tips of his sensitive fingers.
Her long hair was as white as virgin snow and, although she usually wore it twisted into a loose ponytail, she now let it flow free of its bindings. It cascaded around her shoulders and framed her beautiful features. The long tresses reached down to the water and the ends were fanned out, floating on the surface.
Her firm, pert breasts were well proportioned for her size, and he couldn’t help but think, ‘a perfect handful’.
He never went for the top-heavy women anyway, he liked them smaller, more delicate in appearance. And her hardened nipples were as dark as a Hershey kiss, and, he imagined, tasted just as sweet.
The very thought of putting his mouth on her caused desire to stir in his loins, and his cock twitched in response, but his expression showed her nothing.
Her pale blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight as she met his gaze, sure and steady.
And her mouth… those lips… ~god~…those lips… full and tender, and slightly turned up at the corners, giving him a quirky little grin, as if to say ‘I know something you don’t.’
‘What does she know?’
‘What does she think she knows?’ he wondered to himself. ‘Does she know how much I want her? How much I want to touch her? How much I would give up just to taste those lips, to experience the warmth of her mouth against mine? To wrap my arms around her and pull her close? To feel her body against mine, for just one night… They couldn’t take that away from me could they? I could die happy, tomorrow, if only I could experience her tonight.’
The sudden image of him putting his hands on her jarred him from the thought. How could he ever think about touching her with these hands? These hands have killed, have maimed, have blood on them. They would never touch something so pure… so clean. He wouldn’t allow it.
‘But to feel her…to smell her…to fill her up…and feel her wrapped around him…
What the fuck’re you thinking!? He berated himself, as a frown darkened his features and he tore his eyes away from her. ‘Keep it in yer dreams, bub. She is way outta yer league.’
* * *
Ororo watched quietly as he took in the sight of her.
She wanted to burst into happy tears when she saw the little sparkle dancing in his eyes. It was almost reverent, as he seemed to be trying to memorize every inch of her. Yet his facial expression never changed, it remained unreadable, as always. Every muscle tense, his jaw set hard and steady, revealing nothing… unwilling to give up anything.
But his eyes spoke volumes to her.
They were full of forbidden needs, and wants denied. They overflowed with longing and desire… both, neglected and unfulfilled, and an intense passion that had been buried, never realized, never experienced.
Her spirit had soared as she watched the strength of those emotions dance and play for her, behind those hard gray eyes.
Then she watched those same emotions do battle with… something else… and she knew instantly when he closed the door on them and locked them away again, and her heart wanted to cry for him.
‘They are wrong about him,’ she declared silently, ‘they are so very wrong.’
She knew for sure, now, that he wasn’t hardened and closed up because he felt nothing.
He had steeled his heart and closed himself off… because he felt too much.
Oh, he was a passionate creature, appreciative and gentle in his heart… that is how they were able to hurt him so badly.
And then they took away his identity, made him forget who he was and what he needed.
Ororo was determined now. She was going to introduce him to that part of himself. She was going to let him experience that passion. She wanted to experience that passion. She wanted that more than she wanted anything her whole life.
* * *
Wolverine averted his eyes and took half a step back, as he felt the beast within him stir. Its needs flooding his mind like a tidal wave.
It wanted her. It wanted to grab onto her, and hold her down, take her and make her his.
It wanted to sink its teeth into her and mark her, so no other could have her.
It wanted to dominate her, claim her, possess her. Oh, yes, it wanted to gain control over her, and prove itself a worthy mate.
He took another step backward as his thoughts began to race with primitive desires. He couldn’t stop them. He needed to get away. He needed to get away from her.
As he took another step back, Ororo followed. Concerned by the haunted look in his eyes, she reached for him.
“Wolverine?”
His eyes shot a glance at her, surprised by the sound of her voice. There was a deafening roar of blood pounding in his ears, and his vision was turning crimson… he couldn’t breathe.
“Are you alright?” she asked. She could see he was in some kind of distress.
As her hand came toward him, he shifted away from her, succeeding in evading her touch. Ororo frowned and drew her hand away.
“Wolverine, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I-I gotta go.” He answered, making his way toward shore. “You need to go.”
“Why?” she asked, clearly upset with this sudden turn of events. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” he growled. “Just… go.”
“I’m sorry.” She offered, hoping her intrusion wasn’t the cause of his distress. “Please… don’t leave. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“It’s not you.” He tried to explain. His voice was gravelly, and he didn’t want to sound angry, but his animal was grappling for control. As it rose to the surface, it made itself known. His ability to speak normally was compromised by the growling of the beast.
Ororo followed him to shore. She knew he was running away to protect her. He didn’t trust his animal. He had learned to despise that part of himself a long time ago.
Wolverine grabbed his jeans and pulled them on roughly, as Ororo quickly marched up the shore to stand behind him.
He froze when he felt her hands come to rest on his waist. What she really wanted to do was wrap her arms around him, but she felt that would be too much for him right now.
“Please don’t go.” She breathed heavily on the back of his neck. She didn’t want to sound pleading, she needed to be bold. She needed to be strong, for him, without making him feel overwhelmed.
This was the part of him she was always curious about, and she wanted to get to know it, she wanted to experience it.
She had already intended to seduce him tonight, to let him know how she felt. And as far as she was concerned, that part hadn’t changed.
Actually, the very thought of him taking her, while influenced by his animal passions, turned her on immensely.
She felt a throbbing heat develop between her legs and her heart began to pound. She felt her face flush and… she was getting wet. Her body was gearing up for him, it was getting ready to ‘accept’ him.
She knew he could hear her quickening pulse and, she was sure, with his keen sense of smell, that he could scent her arousal.
The latter was confirmed when he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and let out a strangled moan.
At that sound of distress, Ororo stepped closer and pressed her naked body against his back. She wrapped her arms around his torso, caressing his chest and nuzzling her face against his neck. His breaths began to quicken in response to her attentions.
“Please don’t do this.” He forced out without turning around. “You don’t understand.”
“I do understand. And I want to do this.” She whispered against his ear. Her warm breath brushed his neck and sent a shiver down his spine.
She let her hands glide across his chest, marveling at the softness of all that dense hair. The furry mat covered hard, bunched muscles, and the tiny nipples hidden beneath hardened under her gentle caresses.
When her fingertips felt the little nubs respond to her attention, she rolled them lightly between her fingers and Wolverine caught his breath. She knew she was turning him on, and she pressed her hips against his ass, letting him feel the pressure of her pubic bone against him, and let her hands move freely up and down his torso.
She kissed his neck, and he couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped him as he tilted his head away from her, giving her full access to that very sensitive hot spot right below his ear.
But his body and his thoughts did battle, with her, with his animal.
“Not like this.” He pleaded, panting for air. “Not now.”
His breaths were harsh and heavy, repressing the growls lingering in the back of his throat. He wanted her so bad, but not like this - not like an animal.
He hoped his words would repel her, because at the moment he couldn’t move. He was vaguely aware that he hadn’t had the chance to close up the front of his jeans before she was there, touching him.
His fingers were clenched tightly around the waistband, trying to hold it closed against his growing erection. He didn’t want to show her his animal. She was too good for that, too good for him.
But it had been so long, and her touch was like silk against his skin. He couldn’t remember ever being touched like this. She was so gentle, so loving. He was losing himself in her touch, losing himself to his animal desires, his primal needs pushing him beyond his control.
She roused the beast within him, feeding its needs, its desires. Calling it out. It could feel her. It could smell her. Her scent, like sandalwood and orchids, washed over him, enveloped him. He had never felt so safe, so wanted, so… loved.
She was touching him, and it didn’t hurt, it wasn’t painful. It was glorious. To be touched without pain… but the pleasure of it was overwhelming his senses.
His hyper-sensitivity to touch had long ago become accustomed to, and conditioned to, pain. He was used to rough handling, learning over the years to absorb the pain, and let it turn to rage.
But this was something new.
Her feather light touches consumed him, he felt like he was drowning. There were bright flashes of light exploding behind his closed eyelids and he felt lightheaded. The earth tilted beneath his feet and he had to concentrate to keep from falling over.
Ororo could feel the tension in his body, his muscles trembling under her loving ministrations. She could feel the turmoil roiling inside him.
She wasn’t causing him any physical harm, but she could sense his body trying to hold onto the memory of so much pain. It liked what she was doing… but it was waiting for the pain, the pain that always comes from the touch of another human being.
How could she hope to ever heal that much hurt?
~One touch, one kiss, one caress at a time.~
She let one hand continue its exploration of his well-sculpted torso, as the other came up to wrap gently around his forehead. Applying gentle back pressure, she pulled his head backward to rest against her, cheek to cheek.
She nuzzled his thick sideburns, inhaling his scent. He smelled of sweet cigars and a natural musk, which overlaid the scent of pine and cedar. It was a heady combination, the scent of man and beast. It suited him.
His body emitted an intense warmth against her damp skin, and she found that she was trying to mold herself to him. Now standing wet and naked in the autumn night, the slight chill caused her nipples to constrict, and she pressed the hardened nubs against his back.
A low growl of desire rose from his chest and, upon hearing it, Ororo reacted instantly. She let her hand trail down his sternum, following the centerline as it disappeared beneath his waistband.
She reflexively curled her fingers into the thick pubic hair, then continued down to wrap her fingers around his hard length. Oh, he felt so good… so warm, so hard.
He forced out a throaty noise as her fingers enclosed him. It was so primal a sound she knew she could never imitate it. No one could.
She stilled her hand around him and licked his neck, tasting sweat and salt and the very heat of him. He was like a furnace against her, and she clung to him, letting him warm her… letting him fill her senses. He was earthy, and elemental, and so beautifully masculine.
Ororo bent her head forward and bit down lightly on his shoulder. He growled and his hips thrust forward into her hand involuntarily. He was so turned on, and the heat in his groin was like a raging fire enclosed in her fingers.
She held onto him, feeling him – feeling his heat, his arousal, his need – but she still hadn’t moved her hand. She wanted him to experience the contact, to feel comforted by the intimacy of her touch, to feel safe to let himself go.
Minutes passed, and he finally relaxed against her, his muscles no longer trembling, as he immersed himself in the feel of her. The world around them disappeared as he concentrated only on her - her touch, her scent, her sound.
She kissed his jaw and rubbed her cheek against his thick sideburns, going against the direction it grew in. She released her hand from his forehead and draped her arm over his shoulder, letting her fingers seek out one of his nipples.
She found one and flicked it with her thumb until it hardened again, then she searched out the other one. He moaned, over and over, as she teased the sensitive little buttons. Then he sucked in an explosive gasp as she moved her other hand along his hardened shaft.
“Ssshh.” She hushed delicately against his ear.
She continued her attentions in this manner, biting and licking and sucking the corded muscle protruding from the side of his neck. Ororo could feel his pulse pounding through his body – against her lips and beneath her hands.
She listened to his gasping breaths, as she slowly stroked him toward release. She could feel his stomach muscles beginning to tighten up, against her forearm, in tandem with her strokes.
She started with a long, slow rhythm, unhurried and gentle. She continued this way until, after a few minutes, she felt his legs jolt with a spasm. She changed her tactics, alternating her grip and speed – gentle and slow, as she moved toward the head, then hard and fast toward the base. Pausing, now and again, to rub her palm around the tip of the head, it didn’t take long before she heard his breaths become raspy and irregular.
Ororo could feel his ass and thigh muscles tightening spasmodically against her legs, and he was still trying to stifle the moans in his throat. A couple of strokes more, and she felt her hand slicken his shaft, as precum drooled from his straining cock to lubricate her fingers.
“Uuunngh.” Was the strangled noise forced from him at the new sensation of her hot little hand lubricating his throbbing cock. “God… yeah.” He hissed, the underlying growl making it almost impossible to pick up the words.
She gently tightened her embrace, letting him feel her closeness and the security she offered. Ororo knew that, at some point soon, the realization of becoming completely vulnerable, during his climax, would hit him.
For the few seconds that it would take for him to release his orgasm, he would be completely defenseless, against the world, against her.
Almost as soon as she could finish the thought, she felt him trying to shift gears. The realization had hit him. She held him closer to her, as if that was possible, and whispered in his ear as she picked up the pace of her strokes.
She cooed at him, to keep him distracted from that frightening thought. She wanted his thoughts to be only on her. She didn’t want him thinking negative thoughts. She didn’t want this to be a negative experience. ‘He’s had enough of those.’
“It’s alright, you’re okay.” She whispered in his ear, letting her hot breath wash against him. “Oohh, you feel so good… so hot… so wet… so hard.”
“Nnnn..uunh.” He tried to say no, to tell her to stop, but he couldn’t form the words, he could barely form the thought, but she knew.
“Yesss…mm, so good.” Ororo whispered, air hissing sharply through her teeth, as she purposely stroked him so they could hear wet flesh moving against wet flesh. He relied strongly on his senses, and she used every one of them to make this as erotic for him as possible. The sounds of sex filling his ears, the smells invading his nostrils, the feel of a rippling sensation as her fingers worked the underside of his engorged cock.
The only thing he could do, to try to shut it all out, was close his eyes. But all that succeeded in doing was to put all his attention on his other senses, which were already overloaded.
“Nnnoo…g-g..od…nnn…” he tried again.
“Ooh, yeah. So good, it feels so good.” She countered. He was so wet, precum flowing freely from his cock, slickening him, amplifying the sensation of her touch.
He moaned, almost painfully, trying to shut out the sound of her voice. But the scent of his own arousal was hard to ignore... and he could smell hers too.
“I’ve got you.” She whispered softly, reassuring him. “Goddess, you’re so beautiful. You make me so wet.” She told him. “Can you smell me? Can you smell that I am ready for you?”
She was fisting him faster now, and just when she thought he couldn’t be any more turned on, she felt his cock suddenly expand a little more, becoming rock hard. She thought he was hard before, but this was amazing. The skin was stretched taut, and it felt like a steel rod in her hand.
She reached down quickly to cup his balls. They were tight and drawn up against his body. He was so ready. Her hand was back on his cock before he could even register the release of her grip.
She rubbed roughly around the head, paying close attention to the sensitive area just below the ridge on the underside of the shaft. He started thrusting into her hand and she wrapped her fingers around his cock. His face was screwed up in a grimace of pain and pleasure, and his whole body was so tense, he was having difficulty getting air.
Then his body jerked with a spasm, and she squeezed his cock tight in her hand, and pumped him without mercy. Her hard grip was too much to ignore, and his knees buckled.
“Aaauuuggghhh.” He shouted, in surprise and relief, as his cock surged and he exploded in her hand. His orgasm was so powerful, and all his abdominal muscles constricted with such force, that he nearly screamed as his body tried to double him over.
~God, almighty, he never experienced anything quite like her.~
Ororo hugged him to her, keeping him upright, and continued to pump him without mercy. A jet of thick, creamy cum shot out of him in an almost continuous ribbon, surging with the contractions as his cock jerked in her hand, pulsating like its own living thing.
She milked him of every last drop, wanting him to experience his orgasm from the beginning to the absolute end. His orgasm lasted more than just a few seconds, and was so powerful that she could hear his seed hitting the leaves on the ground about four feet in front of them.
Ororo wondered what that would have felt like had he come inside of her. She wondered what he tasted like.
The thought of taking a man into her mouth, and tasting his cum as it shot down her throat, never really appealled to her before. She thought that whole idea was gross.
‘I guess it depends on the man.’ She told herself.
And, just the fact that she had had the thought about doing that with Wolverine, made her realize that she wasn’t just attracted to him… she was in love with him. And she did want to experience him, in every way possible.
She was pulled from that thought when she felt his legs give out and he sank slowly to his knees. Keeping him in her embrace, Ororo followed him, guiding him safely to the ground.
His entire body was trembling fiercely, and he hung his head, gasping for air. She held him close to her until his breathing returned to normal and his muscles began to relax.
“Jesus.” He finally muttered.
“Yeah.” She replied softly, planting kisses against his temple. He leaned into her, not wanting this to end. She was so warm… and the world was too cold.
“Make love to me.” She whispered against his ear, her sultry voice husky with desire.
He hesitated briefly, then slowly turned his head to look at her. As his eyes came around, seeking her out, Ororo loosened her hold and shifted off her knees, settling down on her right butt cheek, so he wouldn’t have to strain his neck to see her.
Her expression was soft, and tender, and loving, and he just wanted to crawl into her and stay there forever.
She waited for his response as she looked at him. His expression was one of intense longing… and uncertainty. A complete contradiction to the smug arrogance she often saw.
This was the man beneath the masks. The one who had been hurt so much. God, she wanted him.
He watched her, his eyes peering out from under the mass of disheveled hair. His gray eyes were dark with passion, lust and desire. She had made him feel good, really good. She felt a spike of womanly pride. Had she tamed the beast?
She brought her hand slowly to her mouth, realizing it was covered with his liquid essence. She wanted to know what he tasted like.
He watched her closely as she brought her hand up, and she knew what he was waiting for. Ororo slid one slick finger into her mouth. She suckled it gently, tasting him. Wolverine emitted a small growl as he watched her sample his taste.
She had his undivided attention. She hadn’t tamed the beast, she just quieted its needs.
“Make love to me.” She repeated. Then she dropped her hand to her lap. As she slowly spread her legs, Wolverine spun around to watch what he hoped she was going to do. Ororo had to hide the smile that tried to bloom across her face.
She spread her knees, letting him see her. Her scent flooded him, and he could see the glistening moisture on her inner thighs. Her pubic patch was as white as the hair on her head, and she dropped her hand below it, as he watched intently.
She rubbed his cooling semen onto, and into, her sex....slowly, seductively. His eyes didn’t leave her hand until she withdrew it. She marked herself with his scent, and she knew that would get her point across faster than anything else. She spoke directly to his animal… she wanted to be his mate.
A low growl of desire rumbled from his chest. He raised his eyes and looked at her. He was breathing heavy, and, yes, he wanted her.
Ororo reached toward him, slipping a finger between his lips.
He could taste her… him… them. Keeping her locked in his gaze, he sucked their mingled scents from her fingers, and his eyes flashed a golden hue.
She had never seen that before. His beast looked right at her!
She removed her fingers from his mouth and tangled them in his unruly hair. As he moved over her, she smiled to herself, thinking his hair was a perfect advertisement for the man’s personality… wild, unruly… and uncontrollable.
As Ororo laid back, Wolverine crawled up her body, sniffing and tasting – like a predator sampling his catch. That thought was a little unnerving,…but so erotic.
‘Come on, big boy. Take me for a walk on the wild side.’
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