A Thief in the Night

**Sorry this one is a bit short. Huge thanks to Alien Sex Goddess for pointing out some plagarism that was going on with this fic****


When Rogue's vision returned, and the blood stopped rushing in her ears, she heard Remy's throaty chuckle from the foot of the bed. She raised her head and looked at him. He had his chin propped up on his hand and wore a self-satisfied smirk on his handsome face.
“You’re looking pretty pleased with yourself.” She said, when she’d caught her breath. “But remember, turnabout is fair play.” She got to her knees and held out her hand. He took it and joined her on the bed. “Ah haven’t been able to touch anyone for so long, Ah’m afraid you’ll just have to suffer my inexperience now.” Remy grinned and reclined on his back, tucking his hands behind his head and displaying himself, unashamed for her viewing.


“Do yo worst, Chere.” He said, closing his eyes. “Nothin’ can be as bad as keepin’ yo distance.”
The view was dramatic. Rogue spent a few precious minutes just staring at him greedily. His skin was smooth and dark from his Creole heritage. There was a sprinkling of hair over his chest and arms and legs. She reached out and brushed her fingers along his belly and up to his chest. The hairs felt crisp and springy. When she brushed his nipple, she felt him tense slightly. Experimentally, she rubbed her fingertip in a circle around it, watching it bead tightly. She didn’t think that men’s nipples were so sensitive. She smiled to herself and looked at Remy’s face. His eyes were still closed and he was still smiling.


Rogue moved her hands up and down his chest, enjoying the feeling of his hard muscles under the soft skin. She gently traced a couple of scars that peppered his torso, a few on his ribs, one on his chest, and a couple on his arms and shoulders. Some looked newer than others did; many looked like knife wounds. A few of the older ones were jagged and wide, she guessed that they had not been stitched. She felt an unfamiliar pain in her heart for the young man who’d been unable to get medical attention for wounds he’d gained on the street. She knew so little about the life that he’d led before now, but it was mapped out on him in his old injuries. She regretted that she couldn’t see signs that told her about the happiness he’d had.


“Tell me it wasn’t all painful.” She whispered.


“Promise, Chere.” He replied, “Dere was good times too, an before you go tinkin’ Remy some kinda victim, jus remember dat he start some of de fights dat left de scars.” He didn’t open his eyes, but continued to lie still.


Remy’s body was lean; the muscles stood out sharply under his skin. He looked like a man who’d gone without proper nourishment when he was young. Rogue shook off the thought. Now wasn’t the time for dwelling on the past, it was time for new experiences. She moved her hands down his strong abdomen and watched him begin to stiffen as her hands traveled close. She watched the organ with fascination. Then she reached out and touched it with a fingertip. She drew her hand back when it seemed to jump beneath her hand. Then, with more boldness, she rested her palm on it and felt it pulse with bloodflow when she ran her hand up and down its length.


Remy’s breath was still even, but Rogue noticed a fine sheen of sweat break out on his face when she closed her fingers around him and squeezed, gently. He swelled in her hand and she stretched out beside him, resting her chin in her other palm. She took her time, stroking and fondling him. The taut skin was very soft. Softer than any man’s skin had a right to be, but underneath, the muscle felt like a steel pipe, a pipe that moved and flexed. His breath began to come a little quicker, and Rogue enjoyed her feeling of power. She glanced up to make certain that his eyes were still closed before leaning over him. She gave him only a moment to feel her breath on him before closing her lips around the head.


Remy’s back arched off the bed and he let out a soft grunt. Rogue had seen the movies, but it was still unusual to feel the turgid, hot flesh in her mouth. Her lips were a little dry from nerves, and she backed of to wet them before trying again. This time she swirled her tongue around him and lowered her head to take more of him into her mouth. She started to gag when his erection twitched unexpectedly. She relaxed her throat and started again from the outside, licking and stroking him with her hands. He let out a soft moan and his hands clenched in the blankets by his side, heartened by his response, Rogue eagerly took him in her mouth again and began to suck.


Many women had pleasured Remy in the past, some that were well practiced in the art, but nothing compared to the shy enthusiasm with which Rogue attacked him. Her thrill of discovery of the power that she held over him was as intoxicating to him as it was to her. He could feel her excitement and arousal as she caressed him. He was having trouble keeping himself under control. Remy prided himself on his control, but Rogue seemed to defy all of his rules without even trying. She needed him the way no other woman had, and for once, he wanted her to need him. He’d become addicted to her.


In the short time that Remy had spent in the presence of the girl with the white streaks in her hair, he’d been unable to get her out of his head. The first time he’d seen her had been from a distance. He’d been sent to do a little observation for Magneto. He’d seen a bunch of happy children playing around in a big yard.

She stood alone, apart from the others, she kept her back turned away from the groups clustered on the lawn, but she still stayed close, as if she didn't want to be alone, but couldn't stand to be close. He imagined that he could feel her hunger from his position in the woods. Unwilling to leave the company of others, but unable to join them, he felt her. He’d had a job to do, but he couldn’t help wanting her.


When Mesmero brought back their memories from her attack on all of the brotherhood members, Remy remembered her kiss. The memory of the kiss that had stolen his powers had stayed with him and haunted him. When he’d kidnapped her and taken her to Louisiana, it had been torture to watch her sleep and not touch her. Then he’d taken his opportunity when the timing was right, and selfishly exploited her needs. Once she was finally his, he knew he’d never bee able to let her go.