How Do You Want Me?
by
Lady-T
Disclaimer: If he were mine I'd never let Wolverine out of my bedroom, let alone appear in such a thoroughly unauthorised sexcapade
Author's Notes: Most of this was hammered out in an evening after looking at too many delicious pics of WolverHugh and pondering a piece of fan art I produced a while back. It all merged into one and basically spawned... well... this piece a' crap. It's less of a story and more an experiment with format, so I apologise if it sucks.
In the context of this story, Jubilee is above the age of consent.
Eyes wander down the stretched arc of his flat stomach as he drapes across the bed, gazing over curve and plane and down to the taut skin showing through the partially open fly of his jeans. Hard muscled abdomen is visible, and just the shadow of hair that dips lower before the rest is hidden.
The light streams in from the window on the far wall, the sun low in the sky and casting deep shadows across him, outlining every ridge of flesh and sinew with deep inky blackness.
His eyes are invisible, lost in the darkness, but she knows he is watching her. She can feel it on her skin as the eyes caress what his hands cannot. Long fingers stretch and curl against the bonds, crossed at the wrist above his head, strong arms restrained by nylon cords.
Waiting...
He'd asked the question of how do you want me, and she'd said she had him right where she wanted already. Stretched and taut, just perfect in the burning light.
There's nothing like a lithe body underneath you, she thought. Miles of naked skin calling for your touch. Aching and squirming, sliding under the palms of your hands. Sinuous and strong, he was arched off the bed with his head thrown back as she touched him, pink naked skin just begging to be bitten. Sink the teeth in and watch him curl, ready and willing, grasping uselessly with hands bound too, too tight against the headboard.
Muscles glide under that naked skin, fluttering at the fingers stroking slowly down his bare, hard stomach as laboured breathing catches, forced out as a pleading whine against parted lips.
A little more than human but still a man. Same needs and drives, same response when you lick his skin. Same taste of salt, the same heat. The same murmurs of pleasure and pain as her hand kneads the tight bulge of denim, squeezing just a little too hard in a way that's just a little too good.
His hips push upwards slowly, seeking the pressure but her weight across his thighs holds him down, his eyes closing with a sharp intake of breath as she thumbs his nipple.
Right where she wants him.
---
"Watcha' doin'?"
Jubilee jumped and tried her best to obscure the computer monitor, Logan's rough voice growling from the doorway.
"Don't you ever knock? And I'm not doing anything. Go away, I'm busy."
"You can't be busy if you're doing nothing."
Damn him, logical to a fault sometimes.
He sauntered across the room and stood directly behind her. "Unless of course you're doing something you don't want to admit to, in which case you know I want to know what it is," he continued.
She scowled at him. Just as she was getting to the good part as well... the juicy part.
She felt the low ache of stirred desire start to fade as the moment, along with her concentration, was shattered by the fact that, darn it, it's hard to stay focused when someone's reading over your shoulder.
"I'm writing, OK? And no, you can't read it."
She turned her back on him, raising her fingers to type but found herself suddenly unable to form any coherent words.
"Will you stop staring at me?" she whined. "I can't write when you're watching me like that."
He tried to look innocent.
"I'm not watching. I was... thinking."
"Uh huh, well can you go 'think' elsewhere for a while, I can't concentrate with you standing there."
He shrugged and flopped down easily onto her bed.
"So what're you writing?"
She sighed in annoyance.
"Nothing that involves you, so would you shut up and let me think?"
"So you're writing porn then," he mused.
"What?" She span round in her chair, fixing him with a dark glower.
He shrugged. "Well you're writing something you won't let me see that's about something you refuse to tell me about, so it must be porn. What else would it be?"
"It's not porn."
She glared at him for a long, warning second before turning back to her keyboard.
The muttered "It's erotica. There's a difference," wouldn't have been caught by anyone else, but he started laughing.
She huffed. "I hate you sometimes. You and your stupid super-senses."
He smirked, shaking his head in amusement.
---
He wasn't laughing now.
Moaning a little as a hot, wet tongue flicks across the nub of flesh she has been fingering, arms straining against white cord as he tenses and shudders, nipples sensitised and tender from the rubbing and pinching she has been amusing herself with.
Too tight denim squeezes against the bare flesh beneath, biting at the seams and she rubs her hand between his legs a little more, enjoying the way he writhes and tenses, not planning to relieve him any time soon because it's gratifying to see him squirm.
---
"So what're you having trouble with?" he asked after a moment of silence. "Coming up with kinky places for people to have sex in?"
She rolled her eyes.
"No! I just can't concentrate, that's all. I'm trying to distract myself from the day-to-day boring routine that is my life. The continual round of coursework from college this last year, while taxing, isn't exactly stimulating. So I'm taking a break to be creative and certain people who shall remain nameless refuse to take the hint and just fuck off and leave me to it."
He gave her a distinctly carnivorous smile in reply as she returned to her computer, staring blankly at the keys for a long moment before he spoke again.
"So, you know why women love the bike?"
Her shoulders sagged and she turned back to look at him.
"Not all women love bikes, Logan..."
He shook his head. "No, I know that, but do you know why all women love the bike, even the women who don't like bikes?"
She could tell that whatever kind of argument this passed for, she wasn't going to win.
"No, do tell. Why do all women love the bike?"
He smirked. "Cause if you get the revs just right then have 'em sit at just the right angle, it feels pretty darned good."
She looked at him blankly. "I'm not even sure what to reply to a statement like that."
He shrugged. "You don't have to reply to it, I'm just tellin' ya. Set the revs right and every single one of 'em will squirm."
She thought about that for a second.
"I've never squirmed and you've taken me out on the bike hundreds of times."
If she didn't know better she would have sworn he had the momentary decency to blush.
"Yeah," he replied, "But then in all fairness I've never been aiming to get you naked and in bed by the end of the evening. That's an important part of the whole sequence of events there."
She raised an impeccably shaped eyebrow at him. "There is so much about you that I never really wanted to know."
"Well you did ask for my help..."
She shook her head. "Technically I never asked for any help at all, you just started throwing vehicular liaison tactics at me."
"Well you looked stuck, I figured I'd help by bringing some of my experience to the story." He shrugged noncommittally.
"You really can be quite a pervert sometimes, you know that?"
He grinned. "Yeah, but the chicks all secretly like a pervert."
"You're a very self-confident pervert aren't you?"
"It's the best kind of pervert to be."
---
There's a smooth, long arc that glides from his arms down to his waist, lined with muscle but baby soft and she lets her fingers linger there, pressed to either side of his ribs as she feels him breathe.
His chest rises and falls and he moans slightly, frustrated with her lack of attention and she takes pity on him. She rakes her nails down his stomach to watch him shiver before pushing the opened sides of his fly further apart, edging the jeans down his hips a fraction until she can reach inside, following the dark trail of hair until her cool hands wrap around burning, aching flesh.
He swears loudly, moaned profanities his only release as she pulls him free of the faded, wear-softened denim, the quiver of his throat and the white knuckle fists revealing exactly how much it is affecting him.
It's all in the details he'd said, and she had to agree. The smell of him and the feel of his flesh in her hand, the noises he makes as she squeezes a little, aiming to make him crazy.
All there in the detail.
---
He was humming tunelessly to himself and she sighed, closing down the text document because she knew full well she wouldn't be able to get anything else done tonight. The carefully crafted atmosphere had been shattered by his presence so it wasn't even worth the effort any more.
He looked a little put out as she turned to face him, staring at her questioningly.
"Hey, I thought I was helping you write. Why'd you stop?"
"Because you're about as helpful as cottage cheese?" she suggested. "Motorcycles don't even enter into it. Plus you've made me lose my train of thought."
"Hey, I don't just know about motorcycles," he protested. "I know lots of other stuff. I've had plenty of creative experiences. Been around a long time, remember?"
He patted the sheet beside him and she sighed, plopping down grudgingly onto the mattress.
"Do I really want to hear about your many and varied, colourful sexploits, Logan?" she asked.
He shrugged. "Depends how realistic you want it to be. Your brain'll get you so far but it doesn't include the details and it's the details that make it real."
Jubilee rolled her eyes. Logan ignored her as he continued. "For instance, never start discussing safe sex in the middle of a scene. It's off-puttin'. And don't get too euphemistic cause people will just laugh at ya, but likewise don't get too graphic, cause there's only certain people out there who'll get a kick outta' reading about furry scrotums and sweaty flesh slapping against buttocks..."
Jubilee grimaced. "Uh, Wolvie... EWW..."
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "You got any rope around here...?"
She blinked at him. "Rope?" she asked incredulously. "You go from unsavoury sex practice to rope just like that?"
He nodded. "Well I figure you know the basics already. I'm gonna' guess health class covered most of it and cable TV covered the rest, so I'm gonna' teach you how to tie a proper knot instead. Expand your circles of knowledge. It might come in handy."
"Excuse me...?" Her eyebrows shot up.
Logan scratched idly at the back of his neck. "Well if you're writing porn then-"
"It's erotica," she corrected.
"Erotica then," He shrugged. "If you're writing it then at some point eventually someone's gonna' end up tied to something. That's just how it works. Everyone knows that so you may as well know what you're writing about, right?"
She looked doubtful. "Well I guess so..."
"So find me some rope and I'll show you how to do it properly. Cause there's nothing more off-putting than severe factual inaccuracy."
She gave him a funny look. "Isn't this going somewhat above and beyond the call of your generalised mentor-like duties?"
He frowned slightly, a little edge of discomfort on his face as something flashed in his eyes, too fast for her to recognise before it was gone again.
"I ain't your mentor no more. Not for a long time now, Jubes." He paused. "Now go find me that rope so you can get back to your story."
---
His neck arches, head pressed deep into the yielding pillows as she strokes his erection, running her fingertips along its length, sliding herself down his legs until she can wrap her lips around the heated tip of his cock before giving it a long, slow suck.
He swears again, hips bucking at the soft, wet pressure around the head, licking teasingly as she slips more of him into her mouth. She's always wanted to do this... never in her life did she ever fantasise about sucking someone off, but he's different. A guilty thrill she tried to hide away and forget about, but it never worked. In dark fantasies she wondered what his cock tasted like. How it would feel when she sucked on it and she murmurs her own enjoyment around his rigid flesh.
He calls out her name, grunting softly as she pulls away, her mouth a fleeting taste of paradise before she lets him fall softly from the end of her tongue.
---
"So you pull it through there, like that, then just yank it tight..."
He jerked on the end of the rope, tightening the nylon cord loops around her wrists and she pursed her lips.
She flexed her fingers a little, assessing the feel of the bindings that fastened her hands together, wondering exactly what it was about his fingers on her arms and the ropes on her wrists that made her ache inside.
That was new... though also strangely familiar, a weird little yearning that a small piece of her remembered and wanted to follow.
She was surprised with the speed at which her mood had shifted. The slow, hot arousal from before had resurfaced and her heart beat faster as she felt his thumbs run along the edges of the cord, pulling at the ropes to check they weren't too tight.
"Now you want them to be firm, so they won't come undone, but not too tight or they'll bind together and get you stuck..."
He was talking but she wasn't listening. She looked at the white bindings pressing into her skin and at his strong, tanned hands around hers, twisting her arms slightly in their grip and biting her lip as she realised that if he pushed her down on the bed right now, she wouldn't even try and resist him. She couldn't... he made her hum with needs she couldn't seem to satisfy any other way. An itching, yearning burn.
An inner submissive side, she wondered. Maybe... but it was more the thrill of being pressed down and very satisfyingly fucked that had her attention. Idly, she wondered whether the same would be true for him. If she bound his wrists and pushed him down, would he go willingly or would he push her away like the kid he once knew?
Would he see that she wasn't a kid any more? And despite that fact, would he see that her feelings for him had never changed. She'd just given up actively hoping, but this was new ground. A sneaking little voice in her head whispered that she should try it and see. Follow the path. She felt her heart rate jack up a notch at the idea as a myriad of forgotten adolescent fantasies bubbled to the surface of her mind.
She was still thinking about it as he loosened the cords, letting her hands pull free before unpicking the knots carefully, all business, and she sighed wistfully.
All business... Logan swallowed and tried not to let the suddenly heated scent affect him. She was no child; he knew she hadn't been for years. A series of years where he had grudgingly admitted to himself that he did desire her, he just made a concerted effort to smother it down. Cause goodness knows when he came in here looking for company he hadn't really expected to end up giving an impromptu bondage knot lesson. Not that it didn't have its advantages, mind you. She had that glazed look in her eyes he recognised from people lost in a sudden rush of hedonistic fantasy, a desire he would have no qualms about fulfilling because the urge to just say to hell with research and get down to some practical experience was just a little too overwhelming.
Her scent said quite plainly though, that she really wouldn't object to that notion either.
He attempted, with virtually no degree of success, to ignore it.
"Your turn," he said, handing her the rope.
---
The damn ropes... he jerks at them, rattling the bed head, wanting nothing more than to pull free and hold her closer, sink his cock into the wet, soft heat she was teasing him with. As if in response to his thoughts she sucks on him hard, pulling his length deep between her lips and swallowing around him like she wants to eat him whole. Sucking and licking like she hasn't tasted anything so good for days.
He whines and cries out, jerking reflexively as her teeth scrape around the base of his hard, tender shaft, shivering fire burning up his spine.
He grunts, struggling for his release, body curling against the shifting, slick heaven she has wrapped around him, hair prickling on end as his hips twitch beyond his control.
---
A little spot of something forbidden, that's what it felt like. Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea, he thought, because he could smell her. Knew that this was turning her on. Knew that she was turning him on as well and things could only go forwards from there. Not that he'd complain but there was some kind of social propriety they were probably disregarding here...
Though from this angle Jubilee didn't seem to be bothered by it so he figured it wasn't something that needed to be dwelled upon that much.
She pulled the knot tight, smiling to herself as he winced and looked down at his tightly bound hands, tugging at the bonds to test their strength.
"Not bad..."
"So, what if I wanted to attach this to something, not just tie your hands together...?" she asked thoughtfully.
He glanced at her, feeling something in the pit of his stomach start to coil, letting a small quirk of amusement light on his face. It's not wrong if you're just following a lead, right...?
He scooted further up the mattress in reply, sinking into the pillows as he brought his wrists above his head and pressed them to the top rail of her metal bedstead.
"C'mere..."
He jerked his head and she crawled up over him, feeling him tense as she straddled his stomach to get a better view.
"Take those loose ends there... and wind them round the pole..."
She did as she was told, leaning over him to reach for the dangling pieces of cord, a grin splitting her face as she felt his hot breath puff against her chest, hearing him huff slightly as she wound the cords tighter.
---
His body tenses as far as it can, thrusting hips against the bed and she takes it in her stride, swallowing and sucking, licking with sandpaper tongue against overwrought flesh. It's all a little too much at once.
He arcs and moans, almost a cry of incoherent desperation, his face creasing into something like beautiful agony as he loses the last shreds of his control. Passion grips him as she pulls away just before he ejaculates, fire pulsing out of his body as the ropes cut into his skin.
Hot semen spatters onto his tensed stomach as he pants, whining and rolling his head back as he collapses limply into the sheets, barely aware of her touch against his hips soothing him down in long, gentle strokes, her attention pausing only to kiss his rope-bitten hands and then his parted, thirsty lips.
---
She pulled the knot secure before leaning back and he grinned up at her, a smug and cocky little glimmer of amused satisfaction on his face.
"So, darlin'. How do you want me?"
She smirked a little in return, reaching for the scissors on her desk before she started to cut right up the middle of his T-shirt.
"Oh, I got you right where I want you already..."
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