A Beginning
by
LoganLuvr


This is pure smut fantasy, nothing else. It was inspired by a picture that I have come to lust over daily, and I had so much in my head I just had to write it down. Logan and Jean are not mine . . . . although, I really, REALLY wish Logan was . . . . sigh.

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Darkness, nothing but cold, black, utter darkness, . . . . then . . . . .

" . . . . 'm sure he's going to . . . fine now, his vitals are . . . . looking very good . . . . can all go, . . . some sleep . . . I'll let . . . . him . . . you all stayed . . . be glad to know you cared." The words were blurry, fuzzy . . . and they slid through his mind loudly, then softly, then loudly again, deafeningly loud.

"Yes, I'm fi . . . . . 'll clean myself up later . . . . Logan I was . . . worried about."

Was he dreaming? He tried desperately to open his eyes. He couldn't swallow . . . couldn't move.

Soft . . . a woman's soft voice. Soothing, warm, . . . and something else. He wasn't sure what . . . or who . . . Then darkness again . . . so dark . . . . so cold, so lonely.

* * * * *

Logan swallowed and blinked, shielding his eyes against the cold, bright white lights of the infirmary. He raised a weak hand to his lips. Something had touched them, they still tingled, he frowned, someone had definitely kissed him. He had awakened to a soft kiss on the lips, and he could still taste her, smell her.

He lifted his head slightly and groaned. Damn! His head hurt. It felt like it had been split in two. Jean opened her eyes and lifted her head off of his chest, immediately moving closer to look into his face. Her eyes were filled with worry. Her cheeks were tear-stained, she had been crying, she sniffed. " Logan?" she asked, frantically. " What's wrong? "

He licked his lips and tried to smile. " Nothin' . . . . I guess I was just havin' one Hell-uva dream."

She smiled gratefully, sighing and closing her eyes. Logan frowned, wondering what she was thinking. Had Jean . . . KISSED him? It must have been a dream.

"What happened?" he asked weakly. Jean's face fell. " You were hit on the head today, don't you remember?"

Logan thought for a moment. "Hardly." He closed his eyes. Bits of memory drifted through his mind. He remembered being hit, and falling . . . and Jean . . . His eyes flew open. "You okay?" he asked quickly, his eyes darting over her face, her chest and finally resting on her arm. Dried blood still stood out darkly against its' creamy white softness, where a long gash marred her perfect skin. Logan frowned, looking up worriedly into her eyes. She smiled and looked down. "It's nothing, it doesn't even need a stitch," she said softly. He looked back down at her, frowning, she was in the same clothes. He looked down at himself, his head was already feeling better. He still had on the same clothes, too.

"How long have I been out?" he asked, running his hand through his hair, feeling for a tender spot, and wincing when he found it.

"Only for a couple of hours, but you gave us quite a scare . . . . we can talk about all of this tomorrow Logan . . . you need some sleep."

Logan frowned, moving to sit up. Jean moved quickly to his side, laying a hand on his arm. "What are you doing?" she asked, trying to push him back down.

"I'm not stayin' down here," he grumbled, pushing her hand away, and placing his feet on the floor. "I got hit on the head; I took a nice long nap, an' I'm not ready 'fer another one yet!" Jean stood there with her hands on her hips shaking her head and smiling. Why was he always so impossible? He rested there against the bed for a few minutes, getting his bearings.

Snippets of memories were still swimming through his head and he focused on them. He knew that there was something important in them, something he had to know. He knew that they had been on a mission, but any details beyond that were sketchy. They had been separated. He remembered panicking, he couldn't find Jean and horrible fear and dread for her safety had gripped his gut, then he had heard her cry out. He was in a long hallway, and could hear scuffling sounds in the next room. He had quickly eased up to the door and peered carefully into the room. A man had Jean; he was holding her around the neck from behind. She had blood running down her arm, and her eyes had filled first with hope, and then panic when she saw him.

He had been stupid, he'd lost control. Without thinking it through, he had unleashed his claws, roared and charged at them. Her eyes had opened wide, and she'd opened her mouth to warn him, shaking her head no, but it was too late. Excruciating pain had pounded into the back of his head, knocking him senseless almost immediately. As he fell to the ground, he had heard her scream his name. His mind clicked. Her scream, it had been filled with such agony, more than for the fear of losing her own life, more than the for fear of losing a team-mate. When she had screamed, "LOOO-gan!," it had ripped through his very soul like a knife. He could think of nothing but looking into her eyes, to see what was in them. To see a glimmer of hope, to know that what he had thought he heard in her voice was really there.

He had hit the ground hard, but he had struggled desperately to remain conscious, to look at her. Blood had filled his mouth and the pain was almost unbearable, but he had been able to hold off the darkness long enough to turn his eyes up to meet hers, and what he had seen in them . . . .

His breath caught. His eyes flew up to meet hers. She was standing in front of him, hands on her hips, not smiling now, but looking up and down his body longingly. He watched, astonished, as her eyes traveled slowly up his legs, lingering below his waist and roaming across the strongly muscled expanse of his chest, his arms. They moved to his face and their eyes met, she gasped, redenning and crossing her arms in front of her. She was breathing heavily, but Hell, so was he. He hardly dared think what he was thinking.

His mind was reeling. Cyclops hadn't been gone for very long, but they had grown closer recently. He had held her when she cried, he had talked with her for hours, helping ease the pain that he was so familiar with. He had even sat with her for hours, not talking at all, just being there for her. He had been patient, never mentioning his feelings, although, of course, she had always known what they were. Had something changed today? Was he imagining this? He sighed and decided not to push it. If her feelings were changing, it was up to her to let him know. God! He was tired of waiting. Waiting for the day when he could touch her, hold her, as more than a friend. Waiting endlessly for the time when he could unleash the passion that had been building in him for so long. It seemed like he'd been waiting forever.

His body shuddered, as it always did when he allowed himself to imagine . . . and she saw it. Her eyes filled with concern. "Logan, you should be lying down." He chuckled, she had no idea that SHE was the only thing wrong with him now. He could feel the strength returning, his body was healing quickly, and he wanted a shower. "I'm fine, Jeannie," he said softly, purposefully, drawing her name out slowly, like liquid silk. She swallowed hard and bit her lower lip. Was she trembling? He shook it out of his head, he wasn't going to start making things up. He drew a deep breath in and stood up, moving away from the bed slowly, just to be sure he was ready. She moved to him quickly, and slid an arm around his waist, grasping his arm with her free hand.

He closed his eyes at her touch, trying to control his body's reaction. She was a concerned Doctor, caring for her patient, nothing more. His legs felt good, he was surprised to find that he could stand easily. He looked over at her and smiled broadly, "See? Good as new."

She looked skeptical. Her fingers slid softly across the strong muscles of his back as she let go of him. Had they lingered there longer than necessary? Had she enjoyed running her fingers over his muscles as much as he had? He caught her eyes with his for a moment, and searched them for hope. She swallowed, her nostrils flaring softly, her breath coming quickly. The hunger in Logan's eyes frightened her, and she backed away slowly. "It's been a long day," she said, tremulously.

Logan frowned and pursed his lips. She wanted time, he was 'gonna give it to her. He put his hand out, motioning for her to lead, and followed her out of the infirmary.

* * * * *

They walked upstairs in silence, each of them wrapped deeply in their own thoughts. Logan watched her walk, enthralled by the beauty of her long, soft red hair. It swayed and flowed, changing colors in the light. Darker red underneath and almost golden as the light shone off of it. He wanted to touch it, to bury his fingers in it, to feel it move softly over his naked skin. He shuddered at the thought, a shiver running through his body. He watched the X's on the pockets of her soft, leather pants move and sway as she walked. Her small, ribbed shirt slid softly up and down, revealing her beautiful waist and back. Logan growled involuntarily and she turned and gave him a side-long, questioning glance. He looked away quickly, afraid of what his eyes might reveal to her.

As they reached his room, she didn't turn to look, but whispered, "Good Night, Logan," softly. His heart fell. He turned to his door, his hand on the knob, and hesitated there, not wanting to be alone. He opened his mouth to speak, and turned back to her, but she was already at her door.

"Night, Jeannie," he whispered hoarsely.

He went into his room sadly, cursing himself for getting his hopes up. He ripped his dirty, sweaty black T-shirt off and threw it across the room angrily. He sat down on the edge of his bed, dropping his head into his hands. He went through the events of the day again, trying to see her eyes again. He shook his head, he was sure. In her eyes he had seen what he had been hoping for, dreaming of for so long. He knew he had! He sighed deeply. If only ....

* * * * *

It had only been a few minutes when Logan heard his door opening. He looked to see Jean enter his room silently, quickly, closing the door softly behind her. She stood before him, leaning back against it, looking for all the world like a wild animal that had been backed into a corner.

"Wha . . . ?" Logan started to ask her what she was doing, but she answered him before he could finish.

Her voice was broken and filled with anguish when she spoke, barely above a whisper. She shook her head slowly back and forth, her eyes wide with emotion. "I really thought I had lost you today, Logan." Her lips quivered and a tear rolled down her cheek. "I can't lose you, too. I can't. "

"Oh, God, Jean !," Logan groaned, and crossed the room to her in an instant, taking her trembling body into his strong arms. He looked deep into her eyes, begging her to let him in . . . to let him show her everything he had wanted to show her for so long. Her eyes moved to his mouth and she leaned forward hungrily, giving him all the answers he needed. He snarled and reached down, grabbing hold of the backs of both of her thighs, pulling her up onto his body. Their mouths met fiercely, open and willing, taking everything they had waited so long to take from each other.

Jean moaned and wrapped an arm over one of his powerful shoulders, burying her hand deeply into his coarse, black hair. He moved one of his hands, too, up into her long, soft red hair, pressing her mouth even more deeply into his. Their tongues rubbed hard and seductively, passionately against each other's, immediately driving them to an incredible state of arousal. The onslaught of the release of such long pent up passion was too much for Logan. His claws unleashed involuntarily, and he groaned against her mouth, grateful that he hadn't hurt her. He focused and regained control, bringing them back in and making a mental note to keep them there. He didn't even think she had noticed. Their kiss was reaching a fevered pitch and they both wanted more.

Jean spread her legs apart wider, and pressed herself tighter into Logan's hard body, aching to feel him inside her. He groaned again, lifting her up onto him higher, and rocking his pelvis roughly up under her. As their tongues continued to stoke the fire of their passion higher and higher, she pushed into him even harder, eventually forcing his hardness away from his body. Even with two pairs of pants and a pair of lacy panties between them, they both groaned hungrily when the pliable, soft leather of their pants stretched, and moulded around them, allowing him to enter her slightly. Jean's pants, tightening against the pressure of his erection, parted her lips, pulling the seam deeply in and against her, arousing her further. She rubbed against it over and over, as he thrust himself up into her, trying desperately to penetrate her deeper, growling and cursing the clothing between them. He moved forward, pressing her back up against the door, thrusting up into her harder and faster, kissing her roughly now, groaning, snarling and thrusting. When neither of them could breathe any longer, they parted mouths, gasping, and buried their faces in each other's necks, licking, biting, thrusting and rubbing until they both came together, shuddering, shaking and convulsing against each other fiercely, moaning and crying out loudly . . .

* * * * *

They held onto each other for a long time, shuddering and slowly regaining control of their breathing. Finally, Logan pulled his face away from her slightly, frowning and trying to meet her eyes. She was embarrassed, and refused to look at him. Logan reached down carefully, lifting her chin until she met his gaze. They looked at each other nervously, smiling shyly at each other. He backed away from the door, and let her slide down, slowly, off of his body. He leaned his head in and kissed her again, softly, on the mouth.

"That was . . . Damn! ," he leaned closer and snarled softly into her ear, causing a chill to run up and down her spine. She giggled. "Yeah, it was," she said quietly.

They shifted and stretched and Logan snickered when he realized that she was probably as uncomfortable in her pants as he was in his. He smiled as a dark twinkle came into his eyes. A nervous smile spread across her face. "What?," she asked suspiciously. He waggled his dark, bushy brows wickedly, grinning with pleasure. "I need a shower .... what about you?," he asked hoarsely. Jean raised her brows, grinning back, her face redenning. "Okay," she whispered, "Could be . . . interesting."

She backed away from him slowly, grimacing and wrinkling her nose, wiggling uncomfortably. " Eeuw!, I'm soaked."

Logan chuckled. "Ya' can't be half as wet as I am, Darlin'," he said, winking. "You get in first." She frowned and stuck her bottom lip out in a sexy pout. He grinned, his beautiful white teeth flashing brilliantly. "I'm comin'. . . . go on! " She smiled and headed for the bathroom.

As soon as she was gone, Logan sighed and threw himself onto the bed, grinning as wide as his face could grin. Damn! That had been unexpected. He still couldn't believe it was real! He heard the shower start up, and the thought of her, naked, in it, brought him to his feet quickly. He shed his clothes fast, and paced the floor impatiently, giving her a few minutes alone. Then he went in to her.

His breath caught when he opened the shower door to see her beautiful, naked body. She was leaning back into the water, eyes closed, hands above her head, rinsing the shampoo out of her hair. She had already removed her makeup, and Logan was shocked to see that she was just as beautiful without any. She opened her eyes, to see him staring at her, raw emotion plainly written all over his face. She loved the way he was looking at her, almost as if he worshipped her. She smiled softly and shook her long, wet hair from side to side, blowing the water away from her lips, and licking them seductively. Logan moaned. His eyes traveled down her body slowly, drinking in every curve, every swell. She was so beautiful.

She came toward him smiling and reached out with her hands, resting them lightly on his waist and slipping past him, barely touching her body against his as she traded him places. Logan swallowed, she was killing him. She moved him back into the water, smiling and touching her body softly against his, as she reached up to shampoo his thick, dark hair. When it was completely rinsed, dark, black and slick, she turned him around slowly and soaped down his back, caressing him with her hands, and massaging his shoulders. She watched his muscles shift and bulge under his skin as he moved. She moaned and leaned into him, pressing her breasts into his back and her lower body into his hard ass. She slid her hands around his waist, feeling his chest, his hard stomach, his .... she gasped and turned him around to face her. He was already completely hard and ready for her again. He smiled when her shocked eyes looked up at him. She had always wondered about that, now she knew. She looked back down at him, blinking and licking her lips. She had seen him naked before, several times, but never aroused. She looked back up and smiled nervously.

"Logan, I already, ..." she didn't know how to say it. A little frown played across his brow. "What , Jeannie?" he asked hoarsely.

"I already ..." She looked back down at his throbbing erection, then back up at him. " Can we do it again, tonight? I mean, OBVIOUSLY, you can, but I don't think I can." Her body was still throbbing with sensation from her previous orgasm. "Can I? "

Logan almost choked. - God, Cyke! - A wicked, bestial grin spread across his face, and he winked, licked his lips and nodded. "Darlin', you are DEFINITELY 'gonna be doin' it again, tonight! Several times!"

She gasped and looked at him, unsure. "Really?" she asked breathlessly, her nostrils flaring in and out with excitement, at the thought. Logan growled, bent down and took her into his strong arms, pressing his mouth into hers, moving his tongue deeply, seductively in and drawing out a moan from way down inside her. Within minutes she was clawing at his back, her body again screaming for his. He pulled away from her, panting, grinning devilishly at her. "Darlin, we're goin' places you never even dreamed of."

She searched his face, her hungry eyes begging him, longingly, to show her.

. . . . and it was only the beginning.



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