A Man
by
Zerelda X
Logan belongs to Marvel, Charlotte belongs to me. No profit, no foul.
Adult Themes
He tried, I have to give him that. The movie just wasn't holding his interest. He's fallen asleep.
I can't blame him. It's kind of a yawn movie, I admit, but the cover looked good. I am a devout Sean Connery fan, but 'The Hunt For Red October' wasn't cutting it for me either.
So instead of watching the movie, I'm watching the man cuddled close to me in this reclining chair made for one. Realizing how unbearably lucky I am. For the second time in my life I got exactly what I wanted.
A man. A real man.
How many women can say that? Or even that they found just one?
But then how many can say they've spent three centuries years looking? The odds were with me from the start that I'd find at least one. But two?
I didn't want a perfect man, I don't need one of those. A perfect man wouldn't be real, and he is most certainly not perfect. He is gloriously flawed and I adore every one of those flaws that drive me crazy on a daily basis when confronted with them, that forces me to attack him at the most unexpected moments.
Unexpected for me, that urge to bring him down racing through me. I think he plans the moments with exquisite precision, knowing just what it will take to set me off.
It's amazing how different and alike we are. I'm willing to spend the rest of his life exploring each of our differences.
~*~*~*~*~
A man. A real man.
His is the raging temper that can overtake him in an instant, terrifying those around him, yet I'm not afraid to stand nose to nose with him and shout back. To outshout him if I can. To dominate if I am able.
I have never doubted his feeling for me, secure in my belief he would never deliberately hurt me in anger. That security turns the most passionate argument into foreplay in the space between heartbeats.
I have been hurt in our frequent skirmishes, as he has, but that is part of the life we live. Never once has he struck me in anger, or even threatened to do so.
He is the man who stands between me and the outside world, shelters me from the harshness and cruelty, wraps me in a blanket of his love. I don't need him to protect me, but he does anyway.
~*~*~*~*~
I have completely stopped watching the movie, ceased paying attention at all. The heat of his body against mine, his lips resting against my forehead, his hard muscled thigh caught between mine all combine to create mental images that ensnare my interest for more than a mere piece of film.
~*~*~*~*~
A man. A real man.
He is dangerous, unpredictable. There is no halfway with him, he demands the fullest of responses from me, whether we are in the Danger room or in our bedroom. A man not afraid of his passion. A man who will make angry love with me, then touch me with such tenderness that I cry.
He is the man who stares into my eyes during our lovemaking, wanting to experience the climax through me, the link we share not strong enough for him, his own heightened senses not enough to feel and smell and taste every shudder and groan his touch brings me.
The man who fights the very dregs of human and mutantkind with the same intensity he shows when he touches me. One that communicates exactly what he's thinking with a look, even if it embarrasses me. Which it frequently does, though I try to hide it from him. The more I try, the more he enjoys the effort. So I continue to try, it gives us both such pleasure.
The man who can seduce me without a word. A man who doesn't need to win me with gifts or flowers or pretty words. A man whose every word, every glance, every action speaks louder than material things ever will.
~*~*~*~*~
He moves a little, nestling closer to me. To be any closer we need to be naked, our bare skin glued together with the sweat from our lovemaking, but he tries. I tighten my arms around him, sliding my fingers inside his shirt between the buttons to touch his skin. The small contact reassures me in ways I can't begin to imagine, yet I try. I love the feel of his skin, the scent.
~*~*~*~*~
A man. A real man.
He allowed me inside his shields, bared his heart, mind and soul to me, left himself open, vulnerable, and still trusts I will catch him when he falls. Trusts me to stand by him. Would fight his way through hell for me. The man who found me in Hell and saved me from myself.
He is the man I can turn to in the most devastating moment of my life and he would wrap me in his arms and take me to the world we share alone without questions or demands.
I lay everything I am - my trust, my beliefs, my sanity, my soul - in his beautiful, calloused hands and know that he will guard them with everything he is inside.
~*~*~*~*~
I open a button, then another one, sliding my hand inside. I feel his heartbeat under my fingertips buried in the mat of hair on his chest. The cadence of his breathing changes, a deep sigh escaping him, brushing the hair around my ear. I can't stop the tremors that run through me. I don't want to.
~*~*~*~*~
A man. A real man.
The man who treats me as his equal and his lady, who doesn't need to degrade me or my intelligence and skill to make himself feel more of a man. A man willing to teach me and learn from me.
A man whose genuine smiles are so rare I treasure each of them in my heart.
A man as elemental as fire, wind, rain, sun, all the things we take for granted. I take nothing for granted when it comes to him. He is the precious gift I give myself every day.
I have all that and more, reasons to thank the gods every morning and evening that he came for me through Hell the first time and found me the second time. There won't be a third, I won't let him go until Death takes him from me. I will fight Death to keep him.
~*~*~*~*~
I am caught, tangled in my musings. The mouth against my forehead moves, brushing down my cheek to mine. The dark eyes are open, eyes I want to drown in, eyes that see into my soul and the secrets I keep there, secrets that we share.
Without a word, he knows my heart.
Without a word, he picks me up in his strong arms and carries me away.
Without a word, he knows wherever he takes me I will want to be there because he is there. Because he is my life.
His eyes tell me I am his.
~*~*~*~*~
A man. A real man.
My bondmate. My husband. My soul.
Logan.
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