A Very Canuck Christmas

"So what do you get a Canuck for Christmas...?"

"Uh... a toque?"

"Hockey stick... all Canadians love hockey..."

"Maple syrup."

There were other suggestions, but frankly they were drawing a blank.

It had seemed such a good idea at the time, to get all the foreign members of the team Christmas presents that would remind them of home. Colossus had some of the best Russian Vodka they could find, Betsy had an innumerable selection of teas specially imported from Whittard's of Chelsea, Moira was getting a bottle of 25 year old Glenturret Single Malt... The list went on, but they were just going to have to face the fact that Canada really wasn't THAT inspiring.

It also wasn't exactly foreign but, as Bobby pointed out, it had weird money and parts of it spoke French, how much more foreign did they want?

"He won't want maple syrup. He's been living here for years and when was the last time you saw Logan eat maple syrup?"

"Well when was the last time you saw him play hockey?"

"We could get him a stuffed beaver or something..."

"Heh, a plushie Wolverine for de Wolverine..."

"Shut up, Remy."

Jean could see the indecisive bickering going on for quite a while, and the mere thought of it was already making her brain hurt.

"You know, we could always just ask him what he wants..." she said.

Her suggestion was greeted with silence and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine... forget I said anything."

"A case of beer...?"

"Too ordinary."

"Bacon?"

"Not exactly seasonal is it?"

Jean closed her eyes and let her head slump into her hands with a groan.

"What have you people been plotting?"

She found him in his bedroom, leaning back against the headboard with a book in his lap and his boots on the bed.

She tried to look innocent, but he raised his eyebrow and she sighed.

"What do you actually WANT for Christmas, Logan?" she asked. "Not that you'll get it if the group downstairs have their way, but what would you actually like?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment.

"Chromed swing-arm for the bike. Maybe one of them little pine tree air freshener things to stick in the Bentley so 'Ro stops harassing me for making it smell like cigars..."

Jean laughed.

"Thanks, you're a lot of help..."

She perched herself on the corner of the bed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as he flipped the page.

The silence consumed them for a second before she spoke again.

"Really though, if you could have anything, what would it be?"

He raised his head and looked seriously at the ceiling as he thought about it. She watched as a sad little flicker passed across his face and he began worrying the corners of the book with his fingers.

"Truthfully," she prompted and he sighed softly.

"Something I can't have," he said at last, and he looked down once more, focusing on the book instead of meeting her gaze.

Jean watched him in the sudden quiet, the way his eyes kept determinedly to the pages in front of him.

She didn't think he was actually reading, he was just looking at them... staring so that he didn't have to look at her.

"You know, I-"

"Really, Jean." He broke from the book to give her a tight smile. "I'm sure whatever you guys decide will be fine."

He looked back to the printed words again and Jean frowned. Half at his discomfort and half at the presence of a thought that had suddenly taken up residence in the back of her head.

"I'll... let you get back to your book," she murmured at last, raising herself from the corner of the bed. She paused halfway through the door to look at him again, still gazing at the same spot on the same page.

His fingertips were turning white they were pressed so hard into the rigid book spine.

She quietly closed the door behind her and headed back to her room, the kernel of an idea still vaguely nagging in the recesses of her mind.

Logan heard her footsteps recede down the hall before he cursed, screwing his face up in frustration and flinging the book away with a disgusted grunt.

It hit the far wall with a thump and he sighed heavily.

He hadn't even let her finish... and maybe he should have. At least that way he could know for sure.

But if the answer was the "no" he was expecting, then part of him would prefer to still cling to hope, no matter how ragged and thin the thread.

In the back of his mind he could hear the end of her sentence though, a myriad different ways of saying exactly the same thing...

"You know, I can't do this" or "You know, I like you but I don't love you like I do Scott" or "You know, I don't know why you cling to this pointless idea..."

He scrubbed at his face and sighed slowly.

Even he wasn't quite sure why he clung to it either. He just sort of did. Like a cut that wouldn't heal, she was a fantasy so beautiful it made him bleed when he reminded himself that it was something he would never get to have.

She was no passing fancy. She never had been, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn't just let her go.

Jean curled up on top of her blanket, lost in thought. She hugged a pillow tightly to her chest, fingers playing idly with the floppy corner of the linen pillowcase.

It was late... silent in the darkness of her room as the rest of the world slept.

The budding thought was making itself known again, like a little presence in her head that whispered truths she had forgotten, and top of that presence was the knowledge that her fiancée, Scott Summers, was going to be a very long time dead.

Very long indeed.

They'd buried him in the spring in fact, just as the early flowers were coming into bloom, and she had to smile at the irony that their warrior and leader had not died in battle after all. Not like they expected. Not like they were prepared for.

That he was taken by something as mundane as a wet road was something she wasn't quite sure she could ever get used to. It seemed weird somehow, that he'd been in a hundred battles and come through unscathed but a wet road, a corner taken slightly too fast, and that was that...

Mundane, obvious, the same fate that could have befallen anyone. It never quite seemed to fit him but it had been what happened.

She sighed.

She did miss him still but the ache had eased. Partly through the soothing effects of time but also, when she admitted it to herself, partly because of Logan.

She'd cried on his shoulder that day, and he'd sat with her all night while she made herself physically sick with the pain of grief.

And everyone had sort of expected him to wade right in after that, to claim the one thing he'd always wanted when she would be the least likely to resist... but he'd done just the opposite. He'd said nothing. He'd continued to watch from just the sidelines, always, always there... Just like before.

Always ready to hold her when she cried, always ready to listen when she wanted to talk, but never intruding further. He was just ever-dependable, never far away, good old, regular Logan... And, she realised, always ignoring his own desires and needs in deference to her.

The others didn't totally understand it, but she did. No matter how much it stung his heart, he perceived her still as another man's woman. He felt that he couldn't intrude too far because, in spirit at least, she still belonged to Scott and that was something he wasn't prepared to destroy. He would never have broken them apart in life and he still couldn't do it now that Scott was dead. Not while her heart belonged to him.

Logan would and could be her friend, but nothing more.

But as her thought grew, she realised that actually, she didn't belong to Scott. Not any more.

She loved him still, certainly, but almost a year later she knew that he wasn't going to come back. She was here and he wasn't and it was her duty to make the best of it. To carry on living and not crawl into the grave with him. And that thought brought her back to Logan again because she knew how he still felt... and she knew how kind he had been to her, and she knew how much less painful he seemed to make everything, and how the loneliness went away when she was with him... And then how much she genuinely liked his company and wanted to be around him...

And then she thought about Christmas.

Logan was up at the crack of dawn as usual, long before the others had even thought about crawling out of bed. With the exception of a few of the younger kids who were already scrabbling around excitedly upstairs, the mansion was still fast asleep.

Christmas morning before it had officially begun was blissfully quiet.

He made coffee, turned on the tree lights and then checked the gifts underneath to see if anyone had got him that swing-arm.

They hadn't.

There was a small, flat package under there from Jean though, so he figured he might still get the pine-scented car freshener at least.

His reverie was shattered by the thunder of small feet barrelling down the stairs. Like a herd of baby elephants, 'Ro would say, though he personally figured elephants were a whole lot more sedate.

"Merry Christmas, Wolvie!"

Jubilee virtually exploded through the door, throwing herself head first under the enormous tree to start digging out her presents, closely followed by what looked to be a slightly hung-over Remy and then one by one the rest of the team.

Jean came in last, smiling at him warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Logan," she said, grinning broadly at the surprised but delighted look on his face as she wrapped her arms around him for a Christmas hug.

"Yeah... you too Jeannie..."

He returned the embrace for a moment before she pulled away, an amused gleam lighting her eye.

"Say, you've not opened your present yet have you? Only I wanted to explain it a little first..."

He shook his head, and she clapped her hands excitedly, scrabbling around under the tree until she found it.

"Good," she said, "Because it's not completely ready yet."

She waved the small, flat package in front of him. "This is really more like a gift token. Your actual present is sort of elsewhere."

He opened his mouth to say something but she silenced him before he could begin.

"Ah, but you can't open it now. You have to open it later. This evening, after dinner's over."

She pressed a finger to his lips, feeling the way his breath held at the contact.

"Keep hold of it," she said seriously. "And I hope it's what you wanted because it's sort of non-refundable..."

He laughed and she handed the thin package to him with a smile.

"So it's not that air freshener I was after then...?" he said, running his thumb over the smooth, shiny wrapping paper.

"Well," she shrugged, "It might be, you'll just have to wait and see."

Several hours and many gallons of eggnog later, Logan finally made a bid for freedom from the amassed, inebriated X-men just as dinner drew to a close. New hockey stick and toque in hand (and, presumably once again thanks to Jean, a sizeable Harley Davidson gift certificate,) he made a break for his room.

Dumping the hat and stick down on the bed, and carefully putting the gift certificate under the clock on the bedside table, he kicked off his boots and breathed a sigh of relief.

Flopping down heavily on the mattress, only the crinkling sound of paper and something poking him in the ass reminded him of Jean's other gift, still stashed away in his back pocket.

He pulled it out, frowning a little at the creases in the once-smooth paper before tearing open the top, ripping apart the brightly coloured wrapper.

Inside was a key. Just a key... carefully taped to a piece of card.

He looked at it in confusion, watching the clean metal grooves shine in the lamplight as he moved it back and forth.

It looked an awful lot like his room's door key. Maybe not his exactly but almost undoubtedly another room in the mansion somewhere.

Logan scratched his head and swung himself back off the bed, figuring the best person to ask about it would be Jean. It was her gift after all.

Her room was only a little further down the hallway and the old wooden door gleamed darkly in the hall lights as his bare feet padded towards it, the card turning over and over again restlessly in his fingers.

The door was shut, locked, but above the keyhole she'd taped another piece of card. On it, her neat, curly handwriting instructed him to let himself in.

On a hunch he peeled the key off its paper backing and slid it experimentally into the hole, hearing the lock open with a satisfying click as he turned it.

Well that answered that question...

He pushed the heavy oak door open a crack and the light that shone from inside was a strange haze of colour and white, illuminating a widening wedge of the hallway as he stepped inside.

Strings of brightly coloured fairy lights were draped around the walls, cascading over every piece of furniture in the room and making the whole place glitter like constellations of stars had fallen onto every surface.

It looked almost magical, he thought, tiny spots of white making the air glow, pinks and blues and green...

But no Jean.

He stood stock still in the doorway, his head turning this way and that in surprise.

Granted, he'd not been in her room since the Christmas decorations went up but he wasn't sure this was normal seasonal cheer, even for her.

As if she'd heard his thought she poked her head out of the bathroom, smiling shyly.

"Oh, hey, you're here... hold on..."

She vanished back inside again, shouting out to him through the closed door.

"You're earlier than I thought but I'm almost done. I just have to finish wrapping your present. It still needs a bow on it..."

She came out of the bathroom then, dressed in her blue silk bathrobe, smelling of soap and a hint of perfume as she peeled off the backing tape from a self-adhesive yellow gift bow.

She smiled slightly then pressed the bow firmly onto her shoulder, the first hint of nervousness creeping through as she looked at him.

"Merry Christmas."

In the moment of silence that followed, he felt like he could sense every drop of blood pouring through his body, the sudden twist in his stomach asking if this was actually what it looked like.

He must have had a hell of an expression on his face because she suddenly had to laugh, picking at her nails nervously as she took a step closer.

"So, uh... are you going to unwrap your present or does your present have to unwrap itself?"

"Jean, I..."

He was lost for words, his mouth flapping helplessly as he grasped for something to say.

It didn't help that all the blood in his brain seemed to be migrating south all of a sudden...

Gathering her confidence she stepped forward again, bringing her hand up to rest on his cheek, his sideburns tickling her fingertips as he unconsciously leaned in to her touch.

"I don't know what to say."

He really didn't, so instead he covered her hand with his, the feel of his large, warm palm spreading heat through her body.

"You don't have to say anything," she replied decisively. "Not yet. I know that you've been trying not to show how you feel, but you really don't have to. Not for my sake. You've been so good to me, Logan."

She leaned gently against his solid, muscular body, so close she could feel the faintest whisper of his breath on her lips.

"You make me happy. It's as simple as that. And I just feel that it's time to go on with my life. To find someone to be happy with... to find someone I could love like I loved Scott."

Logan swallowed hard, barely able to concentrate on what she was saying his heart was beating so loudly.

"What do you think?" She asked. "I know that I said no to you so many times already that you might not want to, but..."

Her words trailed off and she looked at him. He must have stayed silent too long because suddenly she seemed nervous again.

"Logan...? Please say something..."

Dazed eyes focused on her at last and she breathed a sigh of relief, the shocked bliss on his face all the answer she needed.

"Are you sure?"

His voice sounded like gravel stuck in his throat, barely escaping around the shock.

She nodded, unable to contain the joy any longer as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for the kiss that had always been so long denied.

He felt the blood swirling through his limbs when she touched him, making them heavy and clumsy as he pulled her tightly against his body in return, leaping desperately into the touch of her mouth and crushing her lips underneath his. It was a moment of pure bliss to him, holding this woman in his arms like he always dreamed about doing.

It translated to the kiss and he sent a shiver down her spine, his passion and need still fresh and raw as the day she met him. Then after that came the taste of tobacco and brandy and spice, the lingering hint of Christmas on his tongue as his arms tightened around her body, pulling her flush against his chest in a tight hug.

He was warm and strong and solid, everything that she had been yearning for, his palm rubbing up and down her silk-covered back as she pulled her head away a fraction to look at him.

His eyes were dark and heavy, unfocused with the sudden release of such carefully banked desire, and his mouth reached for hers again as he leaned forward, capturing her lips firmly before she could have the chance to protest.

She moaned as his tongue slipped past her lips again, the heat of his mouth taking her breath away as he drank frantically from their kiss, only breaking apart when they were forced to come up for air.

Her musical laughter filled his ears as she stroked his face shakily, ruffling the hair just at the back of his neck as he nuzzled against her neck.

"You going to unwrap your present now...?" she asked.

"Anything you want, Darlin'..."

A happy, carnivorous smile split his features and he walked her backwards towards the bed, kissing her cheek and neck, step by step, waiting until the back of her knees hit the bed side. She obediently sat and shuffled backwards until she reached the middle of the mattress, watching with amusement as Logan stalked his way up her body on his hands and knees, straddling her legs as she leaned back into the soft sheets, smiling tenderly at the contented look on his face.

He leaned low over her and slowly peeled the yellow bow off the shoulder of her robe, placing it carefully on the blanket beside her head. Dragging his fingers lazily down the sheer silk he slowly moved towards the sash at her waist, brushing his fingertips over the knot before carefully untying it.

He stretched the cord out on either side of her body, the deep blue silk parting slightly over her impossibly long legs as, one by one, the strings of bright little fairy lights plinked into darkness.

Only the ones around the bed remained lit, casting a warm, pink glow over her skin as his careful, reverential hands splayed out on her silk-covered stomach, rubbing slowly against her covered flesh.

It heated her body through the fabric, his heavy palms revelling in the soft, smooth feeling of the dark blue gown and the warm muscle and skin behind it, enjoying the tantalising suspense of opening his gift as slowly as possible.

Jean raised one knee, brushing it against the inside of his thigh as he knelt above her, letting the robe fall apart on either side of her legs. Only his palms on her midriff prevented the robe from falling open any further, but then slowly, taking the hint, one hand landed on her exposed thigh.

He stroked up the smooth, long line of her leg from knee to hip then under the robe, his hand lingering on the curve of her waist as he slowly peeled the silk apart a fraction further, letting it split apart as far as her belly button.

He drew a soft line down her abdomen with his fingertips, brushing the skin as lightly as he could, making her shiver and squirm. Then inch by tiny inch he continued, unwrapping a little more of his gift and touching with only fingertip lightness, like caressing fine glass that would shatter if he pressed too hard.

He made her giggle with the tickling brush but then his palms soon followed, spreading heat through her stomach and legs until eventually she lay placid and lazy, basking in the warmth he infused in her as he crept up a little further.

She was naked underneath he knew, the robe splaying open across the sheets from breastbone down, her flawless pale skin glowing softly in the coloured light.

He leaned over her, pressing an awe-inspired, whispered kiss to her stomach and she sighed happily, stretching her arms lazily above her head as he did it again.

"That tickles..." she murmured.

She felt the puff of warm air at his snort of amusement, then the tip of his nose brushing against her as he dipped his head. Gentle trails of feather light kisses dropped slowly, one by one over her belly and then down, his mouth pausing momentarily to lick once at the dampened seam between her legs.

She gasped at the warm, wet feeling at the juncture of her thighs, her knees falling open instinctively as he let his hands splay out on either side of her waist. They crept up towards her ribcage followed by his lips, the robe slowly beginning falling open across the centre of her chest at last as his hands pushed upwards against her skin.

She sighed luxuriously as his whisper kisses migrated up her breastbone, her body laid out in front of him like a tempting dessert just waiting to be tasted.

The silk brushed over soft pink nipples before falling away completely, pooling on either side of her body as he swept the last of the wrapping away, leaving her gloriously, beautifully naked at last, a hard lump forming in his throat at the sight.

He swallowed nervously, his hands lightly clutching her hips as she looked him directly in the eye, lazy and aroused and warm and wanting... Looking at him with the kind of unquestioning trust he had only ever seen her direct at Scott.

It took his breath away.

Totally bare... Body and soul. It was something he had assumed he would only ever see in his fantasies but she was a thousand times more beautiful in real life and he stopped moving completely, just looking at her... watching her... the sum of every desire finally choosing to give herself to him.

"I love you so much..."

The words were barely more than a breath from his heart but she heard them none the less, pulling him softly down on top of her so his secure weight pinned her to the bed.

Just a little too overwhelming... She wrapped her arms tightly around his T-shirt clad shoulders, letting his head rest in the crook of her neck as she held onto him, hugging him tightly as a shiver ran down his spine.

"Make love to me Logan? Please?"

She felt the muscles in his back shift and the slow huff of breath as he raised himself up on his elbows. He stared at her for a second before ducking his head for a prolonged, definite kiss. A kiss unlike the others. Starved and hungry and desperate when the before had been tender and sweet. He tasted and consumed her lips, clutching her tightly while he did so, his slick tongue deftly consuming her mouth.

He left her panting when he was done, drawing away for a second to watch the heated flush darken under her skin.

"Anything..." he whispered at length. "Anything you want, Jeannie."

Then he pressed his lips firmly to her throat, just behind her ear, one hand tracing the lines and hollows of her collarbone as her fingers dragged up and down his spine. They pressed into his shoulder blades when he nibbled at the base of her neck, her fingertips turning pale with the pressure as she squirmed at the pleasure it caused, gripping onto him tightly.

He had tremendously soft lips, she thought. Soft lips and hard muscle, solid weight pressing her onto the bed just as hint of his tongue flicked against her throat. She wriggled a little as he worked his way down and around her shoulder, thoroughly covering every inch of exposed skin with his mouth and tongue, marking a damp trail as he licked along the line of her clavicle. He stopped to nip at her chin and cheek and lips as he went, slowly mapping the whole of her neck with his mouth and fingers, stroking and tasting everything he came to, his hands sliding down to her waist as he went.

She closed her eyes and basked in the overwhelming sensuality, tugging uselessly at his cotton T-shirt with her clenched fingers as he honed in on her lips again, licking softly at the seam of her mouth until she opened it for him.

He took his time exploring there too, tasting, running his tongue thoroughly across every surface of their kiss while her fingers bunched up helplessly in his shirt, yanking it up to his shoulders in her fisted grasp.

Logan pulled back from his intense kissing with a quiet, shuddered breath, letting Jean tug the shirt over his head and away onto the floor as soon as she was able. He didn't care where it landed because she was all he could see, everything in him focused solely on the body under his hands. A body that needed to be tasted and teased and pleasured, the body and the woman that had been the fuel for every night of fantasy he could recall.

His eyes seemed to burn against her flesh, lit with a fire he had always kept banked that now warmed her blood in every place he looked.

Then she closed her eyes, his look breaking away and his mouth dropping to her breast, giving her nipple a long, hot, slow lick.

It sent a pulse of blood directly through her, firing every last nerve at the feeling just in time for him to capture her lips again, swallowing the sounds she made as his thumbs took over on her breasts. He sent them flicking barely against the roused buds as he drew circles on her skin, darting this way and that, never quite making contact.

Her nipples strained upwards to seek stimulation from those, quick, roughened fingers as her hands curled in pleasure, but they never quite found it, darkening with the flush against the pale colour of her skin.

She whined and arched her back, wrapping her legs around his denim-covered hips to pull their bodies tightly together, the bulge in the front of his jeans brought to nestle snugly against the heat between her thighs.

He grunted at the pressure, thrusting against her once as hazy need took over his mind, finally relenting enough to let his thumbs drag heavily across her hardened buds as his mouth latched onto her neck once more.

She keened softly and tightened her legs around him, grinding herself against his hardness as the pads of his fingers rubbed over and over the tips of her breasts, making her head arch backwards in pleasure.

Her hands ran over his bare shoulders and back as he leaned in for another kiss, thrusting his tongue past her lips hungrily as she rubbed herself against his body.

She groaned pathetically as he met her movements with another thrust of his own, grinding their bodies together though the separating layer of denim, crushing her flesh under his weight.

Her searching fingers trained down his stomach, flailing uselessly towards the fastening on his jeans as his mouth settled on one of her nipples, sucking at it longingly while she tried to unfasten his pants.

The pleasure coursing through her body made her fingers seem numb and uncoordinated though, and he captured her hands in his own, dragging them away from the place where their bodies pressed together. He rolled his hips against her, hard enough to make her whine before pulling away, sliding himself down her form until he could press his lips to the heated spot between her legs.

His tongue lashed out at her seam once again, the hot, slick feeling making her gasp and part her legs as he burrowed further in, spreading her lips with his mouth and fingers, probing firmly into the flushed, wet place inside.

Her tangy sweetness filled his head and his tongue lapped deeply into her core before licking his way out again, dragging the rough, flat side over her tiny clit as he went.

When he looked up at her she was hot and panting, her eyes shut and her forehead creased in pleasure as her hips twisted on the bed, still searching for him, a call he couldn't leave unanswered.

With numb fingers he unfastened his pants, pushing them off onto the floor somewhere as he freed his swollen erection, crawling back up Jean's body as she slowly opened her eyes.

Heavy-lidded and glazed, she watched him press his form against hers, her legs wrapping around his waist again making his eyes smoulder.

He took a breast possessively in each hand, swirling his fingers over the hardened buds and making her whine again as he licked at one, flicking it with the tip of his tongue before wiping it dry with his fingers.

She moaned his name, breathless and needy, closing her eyes again as she stretched languorously under his weight.

He gently pulled her arms above her head, drawing her out and capturing both her wrists in one hand as the other reached down between them, taking hold of his hardened flesh and guiding it towards the dampened heat inside her.

"Oh, God..."

She moaned as just the head pushed inside, feeling him shudder with the restraint of not pounding right through her. Sweat beaded across his brow as he grit his teeth, feeling her squirm and tighten as he slid in a little further, penetrating as slowly and deliberately as he had stripped her.

She felt every inch pushing deep inside, parting her channel as he buried himself within, the stretch of her thighs as he wedged himself between and his grunt of satisfaction as he finally filled her to the hilt...

Her legs tightened around his waist impossibly hard, gripping him desperately as if trying to force him deeper. He groaned and thrust forward raggedly, pushing just that fraction further inside in response, making her cry out in ecstasy before he pulled back, ready to thrust again.

He started out slow and deliberate, a maddening pace, pumping hard and sharp but at intervals so irregular she never quite knew when the next one would happen. She whimpered and strained against the hand pinning her wrists above her head, only able to manipulate him with her legs, trying to force him into a more regular pattern by pulling him closer with her thighs.

He grunted and shuddered, feeling her internal muscles grasp at him desperately as her legs clenched around his hips, holding his pelvis hard into her body.

He was trying not to let go, to make it last as long as possible, this moment he had dreamed about...

His free hand landed on the side of her knee, grabbing her calf in a determined grip and dragging it up over his shoulder before returning to his pulsing torment of her body, ignoring the whine of frustration as she was forced to give into his rhythm... Forced to lie there as he made every nerve in her body spark in pleasure...

She tried to squirm but he was just a little too heavy, clasping desperately around his hardness inside before feeling him begin pump a little faster... more but still never quite enough... The gradual change in pace barely even noticeable but always hard and sharp and deep, never quite giving enough to attain release but more than enough to drive her crazy...

His heated body stretched out along hers, trembling with the strain of holding back as she arched up as far as she could to lick at his lips, flicking her tongue against his throat until he could take it no longer. Her heat and drawing pressure finally snapped him like a stretched spring, his back arching as he pounded roughly into her yielding depths, blindly searching for release in the tight confines of her sex.

She gasped desperately for air as it was driven from her lungs by his sudden, insistent, demanding use of her body, feeling her whole world coil and contract in on itself as he filled her impossibly hard.

His hand released her wrists in favour of clutching at her hips, holding her to him as he thrust inside her core, barely noticing as her leg slid off his shoulder and her hands found her own breasts, rubbing her abandoned nipples desperately.

The combination of feelings, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress... it was all she could see, all she could feel and she suddenly cried out, the wave of pleasure breaking at last as she contracted around his invading erection. Gripping him harder than she ever thought possible, orgasm slammed through her like a jackhammer, colour and shape and desperate, burning heat...

She whimpered pathetically and the tight convulsions inside her core pulled him over the edge with her, the remains of his restraint breaking in a shuddered roar as her channel milked him for every last sensation, heated, desperate bodies clutching each other tightly as they rode out the last waves of their orgasm together.

Sweaty and hot and breathless they clung to each other painfully hard, tiny thrusts still jerking her body as the aftershocks fluttered through them.

Then he kissed her as her heart rate began to slow, his lips saying all the things his words could not as their panting bodies slowly came down, tangled together in a pile of limbs, and neither of them yet inclined to feel it end. But at length the fairy lights flicked back on, lighting the room with orange and white, and Logan slid from within her, rolling them both into a warm cocoon in the sheets.

He wrapped his arms around her tenderly, pulling her tight against his chest as she sleepily picked the discarded yellow bow off the blanket.

Jean turned it idly in her fingers for a moment before sticking it to the middle of Logan's forehead, giggling stupidly at his put-out expression.

"What's that for?" he murmured.

She touched the tip of his nose lightly with her finger before letting it trace the contours of his cheek, only offering an explanation after he had leaned in and given her another thorough kissing.

"Best. Christmas present. Ever." She replied.