Wolverine's Desire

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Logan lets go of the past.
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(...a follow up to Wolverine Confidential,12/05)

****

It was warm in the cemetery, the sun glancing off the headstones and beaming down on him, heating his skin. It painted a halo around the woman as she walked toward him. He squinted his eyes and leaned forward, thinking he must know her. But he couldn't see her, couldn't remember her. A small child trailed behind, cautiously peeking around the woman. She came closer and as she became clearer, he froze.

"Oh God," he whispered. "Is it you?" It can't be, he thought. "Silver Fox?" His mind seemed sluggish, clouded. Is it her? He felt disoriented, something's not right.

"Hello James." No one called him that anymore. Her voice was gentle, just like he remembered. She was dressed in native Indian clothing, beautiful and graceful, as she had always been. He took a breath and realized that he had been holding it. He loved her, his heart, his wife.

"You're here?" He shook his head, confusion switching off and on. He thought he remembered that she had died. Hadn't she? But here she was. "Oh God, thank God, it was all a terrible mistake," he thought. Relief flooded into him and he choked on a sob as it hit him fully that she was alive. His heart started to pound in his chest, "Silver Fox, I... I've missed you. Where have you been? I thought you were dead."

"James," she smiled and let out a gentle laugh, "You silly man." She nodded her head at him, "You know I'm dead."

"But..." He felt a pressure in his throat, pushing in on him. The child looked around her skirts and that's when he noticed the blood, streaming down her arm, from her chest. He saw now that she was covered with it. She casually flicked the thick, red liquid from her arm, splattering it across the grave.

"You're bleeding," he choked out, "you need help." He reached for her but couldn't feel her. His hand grasped thin air and the confusion returned, transforming slowly into terrible insight. A retching pain moved into him, the ache of tears pooling behind his eyes, and grief constricting his chest. He moaned, despair caught in his throat.

It's okay James." She placed her hand on his face and cupped his jaw gently, looking into his eyes, "I don't mind being dead." She smiled again and he could feel her touch now. "It's okay, Logan," her voice different.

"Please," he moaned as the grief riveted him, searing him through the heart, making it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, trying to hold on.

"It's okay, Logan."

He woke with a start, opening his eyes to see Katherine. She was still lying in his lap, in the library chair where they had slept. She was reaching up, her hand cradling his face, watching him closely, with concern and something else in her turquoise gaze.

"It's okay, Logan," she said.

"Jesus." He muttered and pushed his mouth and cheek into her palm, taking a deep breath. He tried to reorient his thoughts, and gathering her up into his arms he held her tightly against his chest.

"Bad dreams?" She asked softly, her mouth against his throat, nuzzling his neck while still holding his face against the palm of her hand.

"Yeah," he said, his tone ending it there, but holding her even more tightly. He pushed her hair back from her shoulder, fanned his hand over her, and held her head firmly to the concave of his shoulder. "Don't leave me Katherine," he said, his voice hoarse and gruff. "Don't leave from my protection."

"Alright, Logan." She said evenly after a pause. "I won't leave you. You can protect me." She still felt the agitation and turmoil in him from his nightmare. They had dozed here, in her library, after making love. But she knew his demons followed him in his sleep. She lifted up, moved back a little and looked at him, smiling, continuing to cradle his cheek. "You can protect me all you want. Slay all my dragons. Take care of those monsters under my bed." She teased him gently, as she stroked his face.

"I mean it, Katherine." He said sternly, narrowing his look at her, challenging her to disagree, whatever wounding he had had in the dream, still in his eyes.

"I know you do." She sobered and nodded, her compassion warming through her. Before, she had seen his suffering close up, maybe at it's worst, and it devastated her. She had opened her eyes to see his torment and it stabbed at her heart. She wanted to comfort him but she knew he would not appreciate that, not even now, especially not now. He hated his vulnerability, his memories and pain.

"I'll not lose you." His voice was firm, as if they had discussed something about this. "Not for anything."

He felt fierce and angry as he pulled her head back to look in her eyes. "I never thought I could have you, never thought I could even touch you, taste you, smell you." At that he pulled her face to his and took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. The fresh, pure, faintly lilac scent, always with her, drove him insane. "But now that you've made the mistake of letting me inside you," he rasped against her ear, "I won't let you go."

God, the reality of what had happened between them still shocked him. She had accepted him, given herself to him. What the fuck was wrong with her? Didn't she understand what he was? He still couldn't believe the crashing waves of pleasure from their earlier lovemaking. It all came flooding back into his thoughts. And, the lingering feelings of despair and guilt from the dream were surrendering to his growing desire for the woman lying half-naked in his lap. He was awake now, so to hell with the past. To hell with it all, he vowed.

"I think I understand." She said softly, "I don't want you to let me go, either. And I don't want to let you go." Then she leaned into him and kissed his mouth.

Her kiss was gentle and innocent, and he let himself relax into it, her lips brushing over his, flickering across his skin and over his cheeks, skimming his whiskers and hair, then nibbling little kisses at his earlobe. She put her fingers into the hair on his chest, playing with the crisp strains, curling it through her fingers. He watched her explore him, curving her fingers over the flat planes of muscles in his chest, and inching down to his stomach. She fingered the ropes of muscles there, tracing a pattern, as if trying to understand a message written in his skin. Then, she slid the tips of her fingers further down, pushing past the waist of his jeans, touching lower, the sensitive skin near his sex. He hitched a breath at the contact, which made a space for her to push her fingers further down, and then she fingered the flat bones of his pelvis and skimmed his growing hardness.

As Katherine leaned her body forward, he became aware of her hips cradled in his lap, pressing downward on him as she kissed and fondled him. He had done up his jeans after their earlier lovemaking, but she was still nude underneath her thin cotton day dress. He remembered flinging her underwear to hell and gone, and so now imagined that he could feel the outlines of her body through his jeans.

"You feel good, darlin'," he said in a ragged voice as he leaned his head back against the soft chair while she explored him. He thought of her sweet little bare rump. The image sent electricity over his skin, his groin catching fire. He watched her with half-closed eyes, and imagined how he could enter her from this angle. Heightening desire flowed in his veins, feeding his erection, making his hips feel heavy, and causing his breathing to speed. He allowed himself to envision entering her, pounding himself into the sweet, wet opening that was waiting in his lap. Taking a deep breath, he pulled her hands away from their exploration of him, and spread his palms across the swell of her hips, pressed her down into his lap, grinding her hard on his erection so that she could feel his need.

"Logan." She whispered his name as she leaned toward him and he captured her mouth with his, forcing her head back as he pushed open her lips. Her nakedness triggered her senses, the rough denim of his jeans scrapping the tender flesh to the entrance of her body and making her tremble as he held her firm against his burgeoning sex. He moved one hand to her breast, edging into her open blouse and fondled her while he pressed up against her bottom. His touch sent another tremor through her, her heart beating like a drum in her ears. His grinding motion was causing an aching warmth to coalesce between her legs. She wanted to lie beneath him and take him, body and soul, into her and keep him there, his force and intensity demolishing all of her defenses.

He captured her mouth again and a growl escaped him as he pushed and ground his hips up into her, his desire burning his memories down to ashes. Katherine pushed his shirt back from his chest and spread her hands across the muscles and hair that covered his body. He watched her with half-hooded eyes, as she opened his fly, tugged down his jeans, and released his penis into her hands. Then she stretched out against the length of him, the big chair cradling them both. She rubbed herself against him, his long muscular legs and the tight drum of his stomach and chest firm against the softness of her body. Raising her arms up and around his head, she ran her hands through his hair, damp from his emotions and dream, then held the back of his neck as she arched and dragged herself over him. Logan growled as she slid over his erection, and then he trailed his hands down her sides and hiked her skirt up over her hips.

"I want you from behind, gorgeous," he said in her ear, the gruffness of his voice betraying his emotions. He jostled and turned her until her back was fully against him, and she was situated directly on top of him in the chair, her butt against his groin, and his hard erection scorching her senses. Logan pushed up slightly, reached down and quickly pulled off his jeans, sliding them down his legs in one smooth movement, kicking them to the side. Then he brought her back inside the V of his body.

He reached around her, clasped the insides of her thighs and pulled her legs apart and over the edges of the chair. Cool air hit her as he spread her legs apart fully, setting her on fire. Then he reached a hand under her, and moved himself into position. She couldn't respond, but only felt the mounting tensions in her body and hips, responding to him stretching her open and preparing her for his penetration. Her breath accelerated and she squeezed her eyes closed, rigid with tension, desire building in the core of her body, waiting for his fierce passion. Logan stroked his palms up over the insides of her thighs and applied pressure against her legs until she moaned with pleasure and arched up, in her mind consumed with images of him driving violently into her.

"Logan." Her voice was pleading.

"I know darlin'." He growled in her ear, "I'm going to take care of us." Then he lowered his body slightly until she felt his erection between her legs, sliding over the wet, slickness of her, and stroking her most sensitive areas until she cried out again. He continued his torment until she arched her back sharply, angling her body to try and make him enter her before she would go insane, inviting him with each move and sound to invade the intimate recess and satisfy her need. Reaching around her, Logan grasped her hip at the apex of her leg, and positioned himself at the entrance to her body. With his other hand, he pushed her head sideways, forcing her mouth back and down onto his for his fierce, hungry kiss. Then he tightened his hold on her and drove up into her body in one deep thrust.

An intense thrill shot through her as he impaled her, and she moaned into his mouth. Her body arched in a steep curve, between his mouth and his invasion of her. He pumped again deeply into her, then released her lips, placed his mouth on the smooth skin of her shoulder, bit down gently on her, and drove himself up into her body again with a long, low growl. Pleasure poured over her as he filled her, and she groaned from back in her throat. He held her tight as he withdrew, and pushed forcefully into her again and began to take up his rhythm.

"Come on Katherine, come for me," he commanded in a hoarse whisper, as he pumped in and out of her, quickening the pace, building her pleasure to a crescendo. He had more control now, the second time today, and he could pleasure her the way he wanted to. He could see the faint color of Katherine's blue-green aura, her strange mating magic that had taken him to heaven just hours before. He wanted it again, to make sure it was real. Maybe to make sure he was sane and not still dreaming. He gritted his teeth and tunneled into her, moving her to the flashpoint as he matched the rhythm that he knew would satisfy her, and him. He watched the tension in her body build, the deep flush appearing on her face and arms and he pounded her body with sensation.

He was panting against her neck and felt her tense as the aura encircled him. He flexed his hips in and out of her faster as the aura grew, and then he clamped down on her shoulder again, biting very slightly into the tender flesh. Katherine cried out his name as her climax burst through and her body was racked with spasms. The aura shot through him with intense, violent pleasure, and he clenched his jaw with the force of it. He slowed his pace and absorbed the riveting bliss and aftershocks. Gradually the waves of physical delight ebbed back, but his body was still primed.

"Katherine, sweet witch, thank you for that, but I'm not through with you yet, darlin'," he said grabbing her by her hips and flipping her over as if she weighed nothing. He positioned her on top of him, spread her thighs again and hooked her knees over the low, soft arms of the chair. Then he fanned his hands over the swell of her hips, held her body steady, and rammed himself back into her. She released a high keening sound as he penetrated into her again. He held still for an instant, feeling the wet, soft warmth of her channel, and then he ground himself up and into her core. He withdrew, braced his feet on the floor more firmly and drove himself up into her again, the tensile strength of the muscles of his legs, and his hips contracting as he pumped faster into her, quickening the pace. Her head fell back and her arms reached to help steady her body as he hammered into her, clenching his teeth and giving free reign to his passion and his fierce possession.

"You're mine," he gritted out, saying it almost more to himself than to her, to make himself believe it, as if the very force of his intimate invasion into her body could mark her as his.

"Yes," she whispered, her face turned toward the ceiling as she continued to receive his pounding thrusts. Then she turned her head down to look at him, staring at him through half-closed lids, her hair tousled and messy and her face gleaming with a sheen of perspiration. Pleasure pulled her face back in a grimace each time he beat himself up into her.

Logan glared. He felt like the beast. He more than wanted her, he wanted to own her, body and soul. He would bind her to him anyway he could. She would never be rid of him, never leave him.

"Come with me, Katherine. Come again, with me." He commanded through his clenched teeth. Then he reached between their bodies, slid his fingers into the slick moisture there, and brought the glistening wetness out on his hand. Reaching up with his other hand he grasped her by the back of her head, pulled her down to him and clasped her against his chest. Continuing to thrust into her, he reached around to her bottom, spread the cheeks of her butt and inserted his slick finger gently, slightly into her rectum.

She jerked violently and bucked against this new invasion, but he held her tight in his grip. She let out a little scream and continued to buck against him setting off a maelstrom of heat in his groin and pushing him over the edge. His grip on her was unyielding, holding her against his chest and hips, as she bucked and squirmed, until he reached all limits of his control, his body exploding as his climax crashed over him. He arched his hips up into her, every muscle clenching taut as he pumped his seed deep into her body, marking her for his own. While the waves of pleasure poured through his veins, he opened his eyes and saw that the aura was shrouded over them again. Good, he thought and smiled with a sense of triumph.

As his pleasure continued cascading over him, he watched as Katherine stopped bucking and as her body strung itself tight as a bow. Then she arched, and let out a series of feminine cries. The aura shimmered and then his body was filled anew with a thousand explosions, riveting him again with waves of exquisite pleasure. He let out a long, low growl as he absorbed the feel of her climax, and pushed himself deeply into her one last time. As her climax and the pleasure gradually subsided, Logan's body began to relax, tension releasing from his hips and legs. He eased Katherine's position, and she went limp as a rag doll on his chest.

"Katherine?" He began to be aware of guilt. He'd gone too far. The beast.

"Hum?"

"Are you okay?"

"No, Logan." She blew out a breath.

"What?" He stiffened, every sense alert. "Katherine, I'm sorry, I..."

"Shusss." She lifted up, looked into his eyes and put a finger to his lips, the last of the fading sun painting a halo of dusty light around her head and through her tangled hair. Her turquoise eyes gazed back at him. She smiled. "Of course I'm okay, I'm just feeling...what is the right word? Thunderstruck?"

"Oh, well, join the crowd, darlin'," he said, pulling her to him for a hug. He took a deep breath and froze. Pushing Katherine over to his side, he leaned out from the big chair and sniffed the air. "Katherine, are you expecting visitors? Maybe garbage pickup?"

"No, the office is closed. Why do you ask that?" She peered at him with a puzzled look.

"Because we have company."

"How do you know?"

"I can smell them."

"What!" She scrambled off the chair, reaching for the buttons on the front of her dress and scanning the room for her underwear. She found it and tugged it on as he watched with a grin. What the hell was she thinking, spending all day making love with Logan, the outer door completely destroyed. "Well, Mr. Wolverine, you're the one who demolished the outer door. Of course some fool would eventually wander in here."

"Katherine, these aren't your regular, everyday fools. They don't have a normal scent. This is a strange scent, no race or animal I know." He scowled, concentrating, trying to find something the scent reminded him of, but nothing fit. He shook his head and began to pull on his clothes. Katherine was looking intently at him; the smile had vanished from her face, her whole body rigid. "What is it?" He asked.

"Does it smell like rotten meat?" She said, becoming deathly calm.

"Christ, yes! That's it." He made a face. "What a stench they must have up close," he said curling his lip. But then he turned directly to her and watched as the blood drained from her face and she turned a ghostly pale, the pink flush from his lovemaking gone. She reached out to steady herself as her knees wobbled. "What?" He asked, intent now on her mood.

"Oh God, this can't be happening. Not again. Not now. Not now." She whispered in a miserable voice, almost to herself. Then she looked up at him, and a jolt of panic hit her. She jerked her arm to point up the stairs and said, "Get out of here Logan! Now. Right now, and don't come back." She picked up his leather jacket where he had dropped it near the chair, and began to push him. "Go out the upstairs window, onto the next...."

"Katherine, you've got to be kidding. I'm not going anywhere." He looked at her like she was insane.

"No, no, listen to me. You've got to go." Her words were rapid fire and her hands were flittering over him, pushing and urging. "I'm serious, these are mercenaries, from my home planet. They're not human. I don't know why they're here, but you are not part of this, so go. Go! Please." Her voice was desperate, her eyes burning around the rims, with tension mounting in her face. "Please, there's no time to explain. There's nothing you can do. Please," she begged again, her voice lowered into a whisper, pleading and urgent. "Please Logan," her voice cracked in a sob as she saw him standing completely still, his eyebrow raised. He wasn't going, not even considering it. Oh Jesus, no. "Just go." She whispered in defeat, her urgency fading, transforming into despair. Her emotions fractured as she realized that nothing she said was going to get him to leave. Her shoulders slumped in defeat because there was nothing else to lose. And that old, familiar feeling of despair began to bleed out all the life left in her, life that he had just put back in.

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