Disclaimer: Marvel owns them. I just have my wicked way with them. :)
Warnings: Explicit sexual content and some violence.
Jean pulled the blankets around her shoulders and tucked them behind Logan's back, huddling closer to his chest to fend off the cold air. A fire crackled in the cabin's woodstove, but it did little to warm the blizzard-driven chill.
"Colorado was your choice," she murmured against his neck, shivering as his hands ghosted over her naked back.
"Mmm. . . yeah, it was," he replied, sliding a hand over her bottom.
She gasped when two fingers slipped inside of her, and she rose up higher on her knees to give him better access. He bent his head and sucked her nipple into his mouth, moving his hand around to tease her clit. "Aah. . . but it's February. . . it's freez. . . freezing. . . " she whimpered.
He chuckled, moving his mouth up and sucking her earlobe. "I think I know a good way to get warm. . . " he whispered, his breath tickling her ear and sending a delicious shudder down her body.
"Oh?" she breathed, spreading her hands across his broad chest.
The muscles under her fingertips rippled when he moved his arms, one hand holding his cock, the other urging her closer to him. Jean moved slowly, lifting herself up and moving her knees to each side of his hips, feeling the muscles there tense against her thighs. His penis was hot and hard, barely touching her but radiating heat and desire. God, she wanted him so badly. . .
A hand tangled in her hair, dragging her mouth to his. He kissed her with blinding intensity, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, and she tasted his emotions as they swept over her. White-hot lust burned her. . . she tasted his lust, his overwhelming desire for her, and she tasted the love that would probably always sweep her off of her feet. It made her heart ache with happiness to know that she was loved so completely.
Logan nipped at her bottom lip, the tip of his cock brushing her clitoris, and she felt the sharp edge of an orgasm rushing toward her. He must have sensed it, because he backed off slightly, kissing the corner of her mouth. It amazed her that he could take her this far with just his kisses.
"Ready?" he whispered against her lips.
Jean nodded, unable to make her mouth work. He slid a finger inside of her, testing her wetness, then placed the head of his penis against her opening. The feel of his hot flesh against her made her want to lose control and slam herself down onto him, but they had been building up to this for nearly an hour and a half. She didn't want to let all of that foreplay go to waste.
Achingly slowly, she lowered herself onto him, feeling her swollen sex open for him. Logan's hands tightened with bruising strength on her hips, and he moaned, a low, growling sound deep in his throat. Their eyes locked, and Jean felt her clitoris swell and throb. She knew that as soon as he was inside of her completely, she would come, and from the wild look in his eyes, she suspected he would, too.
So, she dragged the moment out, sliding down on his cock with agonizing slowness. His fingers flexed on her hips, betraying his impatience, but he didn't make any moves to speed her pace. Inch by inch, she drew him inside of her, the walls of her sex gripping his cock tightly. He stretched her to what felt like the limit.
On the very last inch, his hips gave a twist and his cock bottomed out inside of her, pushing against her g-spot while her clit was pressed against his rough pubic hair. She cried out, the orgasm that had been building for so long finally crashing over her. Her whole body jerked, and her fingernails dug into his shoulders, drawing a growl from him. She came with such intensity that dark sparkles blinded her, and she was aware of only the clenching, rippling waves and his erection moving inside of her.
His low growls and moans mixed with and overpowered her cries, and he slammed her hips down onto his, thrusting hard and deep. She waited for her climax to subside, but it didn't; it lessened and then rebuilt to a blinding crescendo. She felt warm blood running from around her fingernails and hot semen spilling inside of her. Everything was hot, her body, the air, Logan's burning-coal eyes. . .
Jean must have blacked out, for when she was finally aware of her surroundings again, she and Logan were sprawled on the bed, still joined and wrapped around each other. She pressed her face against his neck, tasting his sweat, then moved up to kiss him. Aftershocks still shuddered through the both of them; his fingers still clenched spasmodically around her hips and both of their breaths came in stilted gasps.
"Oh, god. . . " she said, her voice hoarse from screaming, "did we just die?"
Logan gave a rusty laugh. "I hope not. I wanna do that again," he replied.
"I love you."
He grinned up at her. "Love you too. Even if you did claw my shoulders up."
She tried to look apologetic, but couldn't wipe the satisfied smile off of her face. "That was amazing," she said, kissing his chin.
"Mmm. . . gimme five minutes and we can do it again."
Jean laughed and eased herself off of him, burrowing under the covers against his side. The sweat was drying on her skin, and she was once again aware of just how ice cold the cabin was. He wrapped his strong arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head.
The cabin was quiet for a long while, the silence broken only by the crackling of the fire and the howl of the wind outside. Jean watched snowflakes being battered against the windowpane, and idly wondered how much snow had fallen in the days they had been here. She was determined not to scan his mind, even if his long silence worried her. She could feel his anxiety without having to scan his thoughts, but she resolved to let him set his own pace.
The things that they had been through over the past few days. . . it was overwhelming. Jean wasn't used to such mental exertion; being psychically linked to someone for several hours at a time, several times in quick succession would have killed anyone without her will. Her mind ached, almost in the manner of a headache, but deeper. She wouldn't be doing any psychic gymnastics any time soon.
"How am I supposed to deal with this?"
Logan's sudden question startled her. She splayed her hand across his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart under her palm. "I don't know, Logan," was the only answer she could think of.
"The Professor said that it would take time. Logically, I know that," he sighed, his arms tightening around her, "but I want to know now.
"I want to know who I am. I've lived for so goddamned long without knowing, and now I have that knowledge right in front of me, but I don't know how to get it. I can't figure out how to. . . figure it out."
He laughed humorlessly. "There were things I saw, memories that didn't feel real to me. Did you feel that?"
Jean exhaled heavily. "I did. Some of the memories felt artificial, though I don't know in what way. . . " she answered.
"I wanna know who the bastards are that did this to me."
One hand lifted and adamantium claws slid from his knuckles. "I want to find them and kill every last one of them."
The cold resolution in his voice sent a shiver through Jean. It wasn't just fear of Logan's violence, though. . . it was a shiver of anger, anger that someone could do such a horrible thing to a man. It might have been Logan's emotions bleeding over into hers, but she wanted revenge almost as much as he did.
She took a few calming breaths and hugged him tightly. "Not right now. Let's get our minds off of everything else. . . "
The cell phone rang.
Jean rolled her eyes. "I knew I should have turned that thing off," she muttered, reaching across Logan and pulling the phone from her bag.
"What?" Logan said loudly when she turned it on.
"Ssh! This is Jean," she said into the phone.
"Sorry to call you, Jean," Storm's voice sounded a little too cheerful.
Jean snorted. "Right. I'm sure you are."
Ororo laughed. "The professor wanted me to give you a quick update. We've located a new mutant, and we'll be sending a team to find him next week. Professor Xavier wanted you and Logan to go."
"Where?"
"New Orleans. There's no rush, though. The professor wanted to make sure you two got your vacation. When you leave Colorado, you can fly directly to Louisiana and meet Hank and me there."
Jean glanced at Logan, who shrugged. "Who's Hank?"
Storm laughed again. "Oh, I'm sorry! I forgot that you didn't know. Dr. Millar referred a friend of hers to Professor Xavier. His name is Henry McCoy. He's a geneticist, and a mutant. You'll meet him in New Orleans.
"Well, I'll let you two get back to. . . whatever if was that you were doing," Ororo said; Jean could practically hear the smirk in her friend's voice.
Jean stifled a laugh at the mock-scandalized expression on Logan's face. "See you next week," she said, and turned the cell phone off.
She dropped the phone into her bag and crawled on top of Logan, touching her nose to his. "Four more days. Have any idea how we can spend that time?"
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