Title: Thank God for Cleo.
Author: Felicia Hardeski
F_Hardeski@hotmail.com
Archive: Anywhere, as long as I'm told. (So I can check it out)
Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine, they belong to Marvel.
Rating: R/NC-17
Summary: Jean surprises Logan- no story...just pure smut. This is kind of set in the Evolution universe.

When Logan returned, she was waiting. Ever silent, and with a telepathic edge she caught him off guard.

Before he could respond she grabbed him by the hips and shoved him back, unsuspecting, against the nearest wall with assistance from her newly strengthened telekinesis. Pulling down his sweats, she fell to her knees and took him into her mouth. Her blood raced at the sound of his surprised, rough moans.

He was instantly hard and huge in her mouth. It was a foreign sensation, one that her body reflectively fought, and she couldn't take too much of him in too fast without gagging. Using her hand as an extension of her mouth, she sucked on the head of his cock, teasing the sensitive under skin with the tip of her sharp little tongue.

Jean stole a look up at Logan.

And smirked as best she could around his erection.

His head was thrown back, his eyes closed, his face alien to her because it reflected something all male -- dark, dangerously unshaven -- wholly aroused. And yet wholly familiar, because it was Logan looking deliciously disreputable in the dim light.

And wholly innocent.

Mentally she congratulated her purchase of November's Cleo. Without 101 tips to a better blow-job she'd be flying blind.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and slowly took the whole length of him into her mouth, down into her throat, tasting the acrid saltiness of pre-cum on the back of her tongue. Logan, aware of her inexperience here, stayed very still, grasping at the wall behind him for support.

Hollowing out her cheeks, Jean sucked. Logan's hands flew to her head, as his hips began to gently trust backwards and forwards, any thoughts of a gentle induction erased by her powerful mouth.

Jean revelled in the taste of him and in the way he yielded to her so completely. The simple knowledge that at that moment she held such power over him flooded her lower regions with a familiar wetness. Jean moved her hips slightly trying to ease the pressure building there.

His moans were directly connected to the strength of his thrust, and soon he was gasping and thrusting powerfully.

She pulled back.

Looking up at him, she smiled. "What do you say we stop playing games?"

Logan sighed, watching as the woman he'd coveted since he'd arrived at Chuck's school stood before him, offering him everything he could every want.

"Jeanie, I can't..." It was one thing to be muscled into a little head, but quite the other to fuck the woman.

"Logan, I'm so wet. Can't you smell it? Do you know how hot it got me doing that to you, for you? All I can think about is the feel of you inside of me. Your hardness."

Jean reached into her top and brazenly produced two condoms from the plush valley of her breasts.

"Logan, we both want to. So just stop. If you don't want me," she said with a dangerous glint in her eyes, "I can find someone who does..." Jean made a small production of righting her top. "I'm sure Kurt is back."

Logan growled at the mental image her words conjured. Or the minx sent to him... he grabbed her top and ripped it up, the force pulling her arms up. The fluffy pink sweater flew across the room, followed by her soft leather pants and his sweatpants.

"I hope you know what you're getting yerself into, Jeanie," he ground into her ear as he pushed her the bed.

"I can take whatever you've got," she assured him with more conviction that she really felt.

Groaning, Logan took a condom. Jean watched with serious, aroused eyes as he rolled it down his length.

Logan lay back onto his bed and pulled Jean onto him, impaling her slowly. He groaned, biting his lip. Knowing he had to take it slow for her sake, yet instinct screaming for him to thrust into her tight wetness and take her for his own.

Although wet from sucking him off, Jean felt too full, almost uncomfortable, and for a moment she stayed still, willing her muscles to relax. Waiting until the burn inside her was manageable, she then sunk the rest of his thick length deep inside her.

Looking into his smoky hazel orbs, clouded with desire, she couldn't help but give a triumphant smile. He was right where she'd wanted him for so long.

"Can I move now?" she asked, part astonishment, part reverent whisper.

"Yer gonna kill me if yer don't, darlin'."

Then, gently, Jean began to rock. Logan's eyes rolled up in his head. His hands gripped her thighs. Her firm, high breasts rubbed against his chest.

Basking in the warm, content thrill induced by the simple movement of her body against his, Jean continued on for a long, long time, and it felt so good.

So very, very good.

Logan indulged her, happy to let her set the pace and depth until she got used to the experience of feeding pleasure from another body. From his body. His adoration for her giving him the patience she needed.

The gentle rocking she'd initiated was aching through him, building in him, burning him, along with her breathless gasps and gentle sighs, but not quite --

"Can you get off this way?" Logan finally hissed through gritted teeth.

She rolled around his words in her head for a while, before she answered. How the holy hell should she know? She gave a small giggle at his slightly desperate look.

"I'm not sure. Can you?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" He thrust his hips upward, suddenly and hard, stabbing into her, and she gasped.

Jean stopped rocking, a dangerous thrill running down her spine. She stared at him, a darkness, a kinky kind of foreboding entered her mind, and her jaw dropped at the explicitness of it.

Logan grinned.

A dangerous, wolfish grin.

Jean knew what he was thinking - knew he knew she knew. And God help her, she wanted it. It was part of what she was attracted to... the animal in him, the darkness. The erotic and sensualist.

She whimpered, hoping that she wasn't asking for more than she could handle.

"Please," she begged. Wanting it despite her reservations.

All at once they were moving. Logan flung his legs around off the side of the bed, and sat up, hugging tightly at her, so she was still in his lap

"Straighten your legs," he whispered hoarsely in her ear.

"What?"

He chuckled. "Your legs, darlin', straighten them." She did, and he looped his arms up under her knees. "Hang on," he said, and stood up.

She almost fell backwards, sobbing, as he slipped deeper onto her than he'd been before. She clutched him round the neck. The feeling of him inside her was so intense she thought she'd split, but it felt so good she didn't care.

The position was seductive in its deliberateness. He wanted her completely at his mercy.

She was helpless in his arms, out of contact with any other point of reality other than the flex and release of the muscle she was wrapped around. Her whole reality *was* Logan, and he pounded into her hard, letting her own weight swing her back down hard against him, setting up a deliciously filthy cadence that electrified her whole body.

Moans were crushed from her as his cock stretched muscle and made it sing, drove any coherent thought from her crystalline mind, making even the static of her telepathy disappear, until all she could focus on was Logan, the sensations washing through her, and the red, violent bright passionate and brutal red of his thoughts.

Faintly Jean could hear a sobbing and was astonished to realise it was her. Sobbing at the divine pleasure into Logan's neck. She bit her lip afraid that the others might hear her.

At last Logan let her fall back down onto the bed, still inside, pushing her down to get the best angle for his thrust. She cried out loud.

He thrust deeply and harshly.

She screamed.

Logan didn't seem to mind, but Jean brought her hand to her mouth and bit it hard, gagging the noises being pushed out of her, embarrassed.

Roughly, Logan pushed it away. "Make all the noise you want," he gritted.

His hips whipped back and forward.

Jean sobbed out loud, his exertions building a finely honed tension within her. One side pleasure, one side pain.

He thrust savagely,
"No one's home..." thrust,
"can't hear us..." thrust,
"just me..." thrust,
"JUST ME..." thrust,
"*I wanna hear you scream*..." thrust,
"give it to me..." thrust
"Come for me." THRUST

His usually velvet and gravel voice was feral, and the pressure inside her was so great she felt her whole body coming apart, her back suddenly arching cat-like as the tension broke. Her head snapped back, a blood-curdling scream let loose as Logan's movements brought them both to the apex of pleasure and over to the other side.

"God, Logan..." Jean gasped, her throat raw. Her body was pulsing with an intensity she'd never been able to achieve by herself.

Logan fell beside her, gasping and throbbing with the hammering of his heart. Both drenched in sweat, shaking with orgasms. A feeling welled in her, and without warning, Jean started to giggle. She was wracked with it.

She felt so light and happy, and so damned carefree. But Logan was looking at her like she'd just grown a second head.

Too exhausted to talk, he watched, a small smile playing on his lips. After a moment contemplating her, he rolled over and kissed her deeply, cutting her laughing fit short. "God," he growled when he broke for air, "that really did it for ya, huh?"

Jean nodded earnestly, kissing his chin because it happened to be at the level of her mouth. Logan captured her hand and kissed it tenderly. "You're pretty amazing, you know that Jeanie," he sighed.

Jean curled up against his body, feeling the deep intake and exhale of his breath and the regular rhythm of his heart beat. "I could say the same about you, you know."

Logan gave a non-committal grunt.

"Well," Jean said saucily as she reached down to massage his thigh, "how extensive is the super-healing ability? Because I have the feeling you are more amazing than you're letting on."

The End.