PART 23
Sinister gazes down on the young couple, noting the man's
arm draped across the woman's waist as if holding on to a
lifeline. Notices, too, Rogue's fingers reflexively stroking
Remy's hair. Only in sleep do they succumb to the true intimacy
of lovers. Quiet sighs. Reassuring touches. The unconscious
awareness--the rightness—of being with each other.
If their affections stir any depth of emotion in Sinister,
it isn't reflected in his icy appraisal of the situation.
His eyes flick to the Genoshan collar. His lips curl into
a chill, satisfied smile. For all of its technical innovations,
it is still, after all, a mechanical device. And, as with
all mechanical devices, subject to failure--or manipulation.
A flash of his long fingers, and the collar is readjusted
to his requirements via an upgraded biochemical chip. Rogue
flinches in her sleep. Sinister's smile warms slightly to
one of tolerance as he considers his latest Adam and Eve.
He feels suddenly drawn to Rogue, overwhelmed by an urgent
need to touch her. His lips brush hers before he realizes
with a laugh that he's reacting to the pheromones the modified
collar induces. If even he can be affected, then he's confident
that his specimens will likewise react. As predicted.
Remy wakes slowly to the comfortable warmth and softness
of a woman's breast beneath his cheek, a woman's fingers resting
lightly against his thigh. By her deep, even breathing, he
knows that she is still fast asleep. Memories stir, faintly
distant. He braces for an onslaught of images that never comes.
He remembers New Genosha as one half-remembers the nightmares
of childhood. Vaguely, without detail.
He opens his eyes, finding himself face to face with the
woman responsible for his release, overcome with a gratitude
beyond words. Rogue sighs, then snuggles closer, letting her
thigh rub against his. He considers waking her. Seeing the
shadows under her eyes, he bites back his own discomfort at
her close proximity to let her rest.
Jus' Rogue.
Remy suppresses a smile at her unconscious intimacy. Any
lingering thoughts of gratitude are quickly replaced by a
surge of desire. He chokes back a groan as his body responds
to Rogue's with an intense erection. Again, he considers waking
her. Instead, he contents himself with moving her hand lower,
letting her fingers close lightly around his shaft. He keeps
his hand over hers as he drifts back into sleep.
Ororo enters Remy's room, silently chiding herself for abandoning
him in his time of need. She carefully balances a breakfast
tray as she saunters across the room and sets it down on the
bureau. She opens the curtains wide, flooding the bedroom
with sunlight.
Instantly, groans of disapproval sound from the bed. Ororo
turns, appraising the situation. She watches as Rogue and
Remy slowly waken in each other's arms. Remy scowls at her
cheerfulness. Without apology, Ororo silently consents to
closing the curtains and leaving the room.
Remy stretches, then focuses his attention on a still-drowsy
Rogue. She wakes suddenly, bolting upright, hands frantically
clawing the sheets away from her body. She gasps for air.
Remy understands instantly. When she absorbed him, she absorbed
the memory of suffocating from the burning lime of the New
Genoshan pits.
"Don't leave me!"
She absorbed his terror at being left behind. He embraces
her tightly, as another, who did not survive, once held him.
Her fingers tighten with need, just as his must have.
"...Nicola..."
He feels her shuddering gasp.
"...mah baby..."
He watches as she slides her hands across her stomach. She
frowns. He sees the confusion in her eyes as she glances up
at him uncertainly.
"They shot her."
"Oui."
"And--your baby?!"
Reluctantly, he nods.
"Y'know."
Rogue's hand slips to his.
"Ah understand. Ain't that what ya wanted from
me, Remy? Understandin'? Acceptance? Lovin' ya no matter what?"
"She was de only t'ing I had t'hold onto, chere."
Rogue kisses the tears from his cheeks. She brushes his lips
lightly, then lets her mouth travel down his chest and belly.
Her tongue laps gently at the criss-cross of scars until she
feels the sudden tension in his body. She pauses at the curling
patch of pubic hair just below his navel. Out of the corner
of her eye, she sees Remy's fingers tighten in the sheets,
knuckles turning white from the effort.
Her palm cups his flesh, feeling the slightly raised scars
that remind him of the pain that was inflicted. He flinches.
"Ain't ya the one sayin' that your grandmere used ta
kiss your hurtin' away?"
She opens her mouth, drawing him into her warmth. He flinches
from her touch again. Rogue looks up. Eyes closed, Remy has
his face turned to the pillow, the strain of his effort to
submit to her attentions clearly showing. Sensing an unexpected
pause, his eyes snap open to meet hers. For a moment, she
glimpses the hesitation and fear, before he throws her a weak
grin.
"Don' 'member grandmere ever kissin' like dat, eh?"
Rogue frowns, considering the situation. She remembers a
comment Wolverine made about men being aroused by sight, while
women were stimulated by touch. She presses her palms experimentally
on Remy's chest.
"Does that hurt?"
"'Course not."
"Ya think ya can take my weight?"
A spark of interest lights his eyes. Part of him is confounded
at the sudden turn of events. The other part, the instinctive
part, doesn't give a damn. He wants her. And she's here. He
runs his palm playfully across her smooth, muscular midriff.
She shivers unexpectedly.
"Depends. Y'been layin' off dat fried chicken?"
She gives him an icy glare, causing him to chuckle. Even
subdued, his laughter stirs an ache in her heart. She straddles
his chest, careful until she's certain he can support her
without strain. Remy grins, enjoying the view. Rogue starts
to peel her nightshirt off, but he catches her hands. Rogue
hesitates.
He slips his palms to her waist, sliding his hands along
her skin as he strips her of the shirt. His fingertips trace
the fullness of her breasts as if memorizing them. He lets
his fingers fall to her thighs, brushing a strand of dark
auburn hair which curls from beneath her silk underwear.
The scent of her desire stirs his blood. Still tentative,
he tugs the fabric aside just far enough to get a good taste
of her. Rogue's gasp of pleasure electrifies his senses. She
squirms. He flicks his tongue again.
He's rewarded with the sight of Rogue's body arching to encourage
his endeavours. For a long moment, he revels in the sight
of her aroused. Eyes closed. Flush of color from her face
to her throat to the tips of her nipples. Her lips part, anticipating
a kiss. He delivers.
"Remy..."
"Hmmmmm?"
Reluctantly, Rogue moves back, causing him to look up.
"Please, Remy, let me pleasure ya."
"Ah, chere, you doin' all dat an' more."
"Ah want ya, sugah. Ah need ya--ah need the taste of
ya. Trust me, hon."
She kisses his throat, licking then sucking the soft skin.
She nips his earlobe. Then, her soft breath caresses his skin
as she whispers words of comfort—and desire. Remy LeBeau
succumbs to the bliss of the moment. He had forgotten so much.
Given up on so much during his imprisonment on New Genosha.
The simplest of comforts. A bed. A shower. As much food as
he cares to eat. The knowledge that the woman he loves, loves
him in return. It is that knowledge which gives him the courage
to give in to Rogue's attentions.
Rogue stirs. When Remy opens his eyes, he sees that she has
removed her panties and changed her position. He's greeted
by the sight of her softly curving backside and firm thighs.
He feels her breasts on his groin and braces himself as she
takes him in her hands, then her mouth.
"Mon Dieu..."
Rogue looks over her shoulder with a wicked grin.
"Ah'll take that as a compliment."
In response, Remy grabs her hips and yanks, causing Rogue's
weight to slip from her elbows to the full length of his body.
She laughs in surprise and delight as the bed responds to
their movements. Her laughter quickly turns to soft moaning
as Remy's lips open her tight, warm skin to his taste. His
tongue quickly finds the surge of moisture he seeks.
"I take dat as a compliment, n'est-ce pas, chere?"
He winks. Rogue nods, breathless. He wonders, not for the
first time, what it might be like to spend a lifetime with
this woman. A smile plays on his lips. He wonders what it
might be like to watch Rogue's body swell with the life of
their child. A brief remembrance of pain. His firstborn is
lost to him. Forever.
"Sugah?"
The concern in Rogue's green eyes touches him.
"Y'ever t'ink 'bout havin' chillen?"
It's a difficult subject for her. He can see that in the
way she chews her lip, thinking.
"Ah think about it. Sometimes."
"Y'ever t'ink 'bout havin' chillen--wit' me?"
"Ya know that ain't--"
She bites back sudden tears. Without warning, Rogue scurries
from the bed. Immediately, Remy follows, catching her before
she can escape. He's surprised by the anger brightening her
eyes.
"Ah thought ya were done hatin' me."
"Eh?! Rogue, no, dat ain't what I--chere? Mignonne?"
She turns her face away. Silence. He presses his body to
hers; she doesn't resist. His lips, his fingers again seek
her out, finding renewed pleasure in her response to his knowing
caresses. His cheek rubs hers.
"You ev't'ing t'me, mon amour. Ev't'ing."
Grudgingly, Rogue gives in to his touch. She parts her legs,
then cries out as he enters her. Her mouth seeks his even
as her hands move to draw him deeper inside. He slips a finger
between them. Her gasp as he strokes her is answered by his
own muffled groan. His lips break from hers.
"Say it, Roguie, jus' for me."
"...ain't possible for me..."
"If it were--"
"Ah'd love--oh--ta have your--children!"
He rolls her onto the floor, pinning her down in a mock wrestling
move.
"Oui?"
"Ah said so, didn't ah?"
He thrusts deeper, feeling her muscles tighten, then withdraws.
He savors this moment, letting the reality of once again holding
Rogue in his arms wash away the lingering traces of New Genosha.
His eyes catch hers as he enters her again. His lips drop
to her throat, even as his fingers again find her breast.
He groans with pleasure.
"Rogue--don' t'ink I c'n--hmph!"
A wave of ecstacy crashes over him, and he succumbs completely.
Rogue smiles, holding him close as he shudders from the passion
of his release. His ragged breathing slows, then steadies.
His body relaxes against hers. Rogue tilts his chin to hers,
a glimmer of amusement lighting her eyes.
"Ya were sayin'?"
He grins sheepishly.
"Don' t'ink I c'n control m'self."
She chuckles.
"Do tell."
"Y't'ink dat funny, eh, girl?"
"Hysterical."
"Show you hysterical..."
He kisses his way down her body, gives her a quick nibble
on the thigh, then lets his tongue lap her wetness. He feels
her tense beneath his mouth. Her fingers stroke his hair as
her body arches under his efforts.
"Remy...stop..."
"Jus' gettin' good, chere."
A stab of pain cramps her body. Her hands tighten on his
shoulders.
"Ah mean it, Cajun!"
He glances up, surprised to see her eyes again wet with tears.
She rolls onto her side, doubled-over. He stretches out beside
her, gently pulling her body to his. Concern darkens his eyes.
He rubs a palm soothingly across her back.
"Rogue?"
"Get--Hank."
"Y'sure dat necessary?"
"Go!"
"Mais oui."
He kisses her shoulder, covers her with the comforter, then
leaves to find the X-men's resident medic.
Continued in Chapter
24.
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