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When It's Love	By : DrunkenScotsman Category: X-Men - Animated Series (all) > Het - Male/Female Views: 4320 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: All X-Men characters and locations are the intellectual property of Marvel Comics. I make no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
Chapter 8: Merger

Nearly a month later, once they’d both received a clean bill of health, Remy invited Rogue on a date to a fondue restaurant, which she accepted with palpable glee. The Cajun nearly dropped the keys he twirled while waiting by the front door when he laid eyes on his belle femme. Violet pumps, black fishnet stockings, a classic “little black dress” that clung to every curve, long white opera gloves, a lavender scarf draped around her shoulders and neck – everything about her outfit radiated classy sensuality.
Rogue grinned at Remy’s dumbstruck reaction; rarely was that smooth-talker rendered speechless. She’d never tell him, but her outfit had been assembled through the combined efforts of Ororo, Jean, and herself, out of the classiest pieces of their wardrobes – the opera gloves belonged to Jean, the scarf and shoes to Ororo, and both women had given tips for balancing her makeup with her clothes to make sure she didn’t over-apply. Since her date was staring, she felt justified appreciating the sight that Remy cut.
The Cajun cleaned up nicely, she had to admit. The black suit jacket and slacks, with the subtlest of silver pin-stripes, accentuated Remy’s lean frame and broad shoulders and brought out his red irises. The suit and the plain white button-up highlighted the burgundy necktie with gold fleur-de-lis pattern he’d chosen. His cinnamon hair hung in a neat ponytail over his left shoulder. Put together, the whole package constituted one handsome devil of a man, and Rogue fought fruitlessly not to dwell on how much she looked forward to unwrapping him later. A deep blush crept into her cheeks.
Recovering from his initial shock, Remy whistled. “Mon Dieu, it look like Remy hit de jackpot tonight, chére,” he commented.
Deciding to play along, Rogue exaggerated the sway of her hips as she sauntered to his side. “Naw, sugah, this is just the openin’ deal. Play yer cards raht,” she hinted in a husky tone, “and ya maht just end up the luckiest Cajun in the world.”
Charming as always, Remy took Rogue’s hand and kissed it before folding her arm under his. “Already feel like dat whenever I’m wit’ you, chére,” he answered smoothly. He smirked at the way the remark made his beloved shiver, and he fought fruitlessly not to dwell on what other reactions he’d like to elicit from her later. A smirk crept across his lips.
At the restaurant, Remy shepherded Rogue through the intricacies of fondue, from cooking times to wine pairings for each course. Even though the tradition of kissing one’s partner after dropping a piece into the pot sounded too convenient to her to be true, she played along each time, covering her date’s mouth with a gloved hand and kissing the back of her hand. On the rarer occasions that Remy dropped pieces, he kissed her glove in the same spot.
Four courses – cheese, salad, meat and vegetables, chocolate – and three hours later, the fanciest meal Rogue had ever eaten had ended, and the two mutants drove back to the Mansion, their home, along the scenic route to let their food digest. The full moon gleamed silver in the cloudless sky, outshining all but the brightest stars, and the air held the crisp chill of a November evening.
Following the routine they’d established for their outings over the past few months, Remy walked Rogue to her door once they’d returned to the Mansion. At first, she’d only hugged him goodnight. Lately, ever since that afternoon when she let him watch her shower, the Southern-fried bombshell would invite him inside, where they would watch each other bring themselves to climax. Tonight, though, he sensed a peculiar energy from the woman he loved, a certain il ne savait quoi that indicated an impending deviation from the script.
“Ah got a li’l surprahse for ya, sugah,” purred Rogue as she unlocked her door and confirmed Remy’s intuition.
“Chére, dis Cajun live for surprises,” he replied, giving Rogue a surprise of his own by pinching her taut rump while she fitted the key into the lock.
“Hold yer horses, swamp-rat!” she growled not entirely seriously. With a turn of the wrist, Rogue ushered her date through the door. She shut the door and sashayed toward him with a wicked look in her eyes that broadcast her intent to pay him back for goosing her. Before Remy could ask what she had planned, she grabbed his tie and yanked him close and kissed with a ferocity that only a woman denied the ability to touch for half her life could manage.
Remy’s surprise at the unexpected kiss soon faded, replaced with utter bewilderment that Rogue’s lips hadn’t rendered him comatose. None of that prevented him from kissing back the way she deserved and clearly craved, however. Every technique he’d learned over the years saw use, along with a few he created on the spot, in a wrestling match of tongues that left both breathless by the end.
Rogue apparently had further surprises in store when she murmured in a husky voice, “Make yerself comfy, sugah, whahl Ah put on a li’l show for ya.” Green eyes crackled with pent-up desire. While Remy stepped out of his shoes, loosened his tie, and reclined on her bed, Rogue tossed her scarf aside and pressed PLAY on her stereo, starting the CD inside. The powerful voice of Pat Benatar belted “Love is a Battlefield” from the speakers.
Despite her nerves, Rogue swayed her hips to the music, praying to any deity listening that her weeks of practice would soon pay off. She leaned forward then bent down to run her hands along each leg, knowing that the pose also showed off her generous cleavage. With a little assistance from her hands, she slipped her feet out of her heels.
The smirk on her date’s face and the way his eyes remained glued to her body encouraged Rogue to continue. She reached behind her back to work on her zipper; knowing the pose thrust her chest out, she shot Remy a heated look under hooded eyelids. Her heart pounded in her ears, especially once her beloved began loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.
Her dress unzipped, Rogue teased Remy by exposing her shoulders – first the right, then the left – with agonizing slowness. Only sparing a moment to replace her bra straps, she tugged the satiny dress past her curves until the fabric’s own weight took over and deposited the garment in a pool at her feet. A well-rehearsed spin left Rogue with her back to the Cajun on her bed.
Never taking his eyes off his date, Remy slipped out of his jacket, shirt, and tie. Even though she’d warned him about having a surprise for him, he hadn’t expected the one he got when she kissed him without draining his powers. For the moment, he decided to stow questions for later and appreciate Rogue in her forest-green lacy bra and thong, the latter of which highlighted her taut rear. Meanwhile, Rogue progressed to phase two of her routine. With a sultry glance over one shoulder, she unhooked her bra and shrugged the garment off. Extending one arm, she dangled the piece of lingerie like a fishing lure; a flick of the wrist cast it to the floor.
When she spun back around, she saw a grinning, shirtless Remy LeBeau, and a shiver crawled up her spine at the sight. For his part, Remy drank in the sight of Rogue wearing only panties, gloves, and fishnets. Her hands rested on her neck, leaving her forearms and elbows to partially cover her bosom, though they couldn’t come close to obscuring the fleshy mounds completely.
One by one, Rogue bit the tips of her fingers and tugged – not so hard as to tear the fabric, but enough to pull the glove from her hand little by little. Once her hand felt free enough, she slid it out of the glove, which remained in place thanks to the grip of her teeth. Her now-free hand pulled the fabric taut against her breast, at which point the stiffened tip of her nipple protruded visibly through. As a bonus, the material felt quite nice against the sensitive skin.
She shot her date a sultry wink, and he responded in kind. Opening her mouth released all the tension from the fabric, which fell away until pinned by her hand against her breast. Remy’s encouraging whistle prompted Rogue to repeat the process with the other glove until it, too, hung from a position pinned between hand and bosom. The buxom beauty raised her hands up to her neck, so that the trailing gloves looked for all the world like they were groping her. With a flick of her wrists, she flung the no-longer-needed hand coverings over her shoulder.
Remy grinned and openly admired Rogue’s now-bare breasts. He’d seen them before, of course – many times now, in fact – but he appreciated the effort she was putting forth to tease him and flaunt her body for him. Besides, even without novelty, her breasts inspired awe – not to mention other emotions – in him. He also knew how difficult the fine manipulations she was performing – eating, unzipping a dress, unhooking a bra – could be while wearing gloves; then again, she’d lived in gloves for years now. Nonetheless, he found her dexterity both impressive and… promising.
Next, Rogue performed a shoulder shake, a popular music-video staple in the 80’s, and the motion carried through to her bosom. She approached Remy, each step in time with the music. Eyes gleaming with mischief, she lifted one foot and rested it on Remy’s knee; his eyes met hers, equally filled with wicked intent. Her hands streamed up her leg, starting at the ankle; once past the knee, they began peeling her fishnet stocking off inch by inch, revealing her creamy, toned thigh and calf. Once the garment had been removed fully, she unfurled it and draped it around her soon-to-be lover’s neck.
Understanding that he was meant to look and not touch, Remy merely devoured her with his eyes. He blew Rogue a kiss as she switched from one foot to the other. She bit her lip and slid the stocking off her leg in the same fashion; once it had come off, she settled it with its mate.
Rogue returned to both feet and leaned in close to tease Remy with her proximity. While she brushed her lips and nose against his, she shimmied out of her panties, the last scrap of fabric on her body. Wearing only a smile, she stood to her full height, naked and unashamed in front of the man she loved. The last notes of the song faded away.
“Dat’s one hell of a surprise, chére,” Remy murmured in awe.
“There’s plenty more where that came from, sugah,” Rogue drawled, voice thick with suggestion. “Lemme hang up mah dress ‘n turn off the music. You, ah, make yerself comfortable too.”
Remy undressed while Rogue approached her stereo, each step punctuated with an exaggerated shake of the hips. The Cajun certainly enjoyed the display of that underappreciated posterior, especially when Rogue bent over more than strictly necessary to press the STOP button. He caught a glimpse of her bare sex peeking between her thighs, glistening faintly with arousal. The sight prompted him to finish removing his underwear, so as not to constrain his body’s reaction.
When his date turned around, Remy patted the bed next to him. Rogue slinked her way over, but he could see the mix of nerves and excitement written all over her face as she sat. “We ain’t gotta ride de whole river in one night, chére,” he soothed her.
Rogue shook her head, fierce determination replacing nerves. “Ah done waited too long fer this. Believe me, Ah’m rarin’ ta go,” she assured him with an embarrassed laugh.
“We take our time anyway, non? Better t’ savor an experience like dis.” His hand brushed hers. “A little buildup get rid o’ dem nerves, too.”
Before long, the two had locked lips in a fiery display of passion. Neither one knew who’d initiated the kiss, but neither cared. Flesh pressed against flesh, flooding both with wonderful tactile sensations.
To the woman denied touch for so long, the hands of the man she loved caressing her skin felt nothing short of sublime. Lacking patience, though, Rogue guided those delectable hands directly to her bosom. The voluminous yet sensitive flesh responded to Remy’s warm, deft fingers by practically singing with pleasure. A lusty, needy moan nearly burst forth, muffled only by her lover’s lips pressed against hers.
Rogue’s own explorations proved far more haphazard. Because she couldn’t decide what to touch first, she tried to touch everything at once. Lithe arms, broad shoulders, firm chest, washboard abs, lean legs, powerful back, tight butt, stubbly cheeks, soft hair – the touch-deprived woman drank it all in through her hands, unable to get enough.
In contrast, Remy maintained a deliberate, even unhurried, pace as his hands meandered along his beloved’s soft skin. One hand remained on a breast at all times, since Rogue so obviously enjoyed his touch there; but the other traced the curve of her waist or trailed along her thick thighs or teased her bare mound. Her whole body jerked, and she yelped into his mouth, when his finger glided along the folds of her burning-hot, dripping-wet sex. To his relief, Rogue parted her legs to welcome such touches.
In fact, Rogue decided to respond in kind. Gingerly she wrapped her hand around Remy’s rigid manhood and began to stroke. Feeling him twitch and pulse in her grasp and hearing him murmur her name paired with his own expert manual caresses of her most sensitive spots to drive her nearly to the brink. She broke the kiss to moan his name, voice low and breathy and full of years’ worth of yearning.
Remy maneuvered them into position lying face-to-face on their sides. He knew what she wanted, and he wanted the same thing just as badly. Years of experience had taught him, however, to always ask first: “You sure ‘bout dis, chére? We gonna have plenty o’ chances t’ dance like dis, if’n y’ rather explore more first.”
Rogue shook her head and teased, “C’mon, sugah, show a gal a good tahm, would ya?”
“Dat I promise,” Remy replied with a smirk. “Jus’ makin’ sure, dat’s all.” Caressing her cheek, he moved atop her, relishing the long-awaited feel of their bodies on the verge of unification.
“Ah’m ready, Remy,” she breathed, her voice little more than a hushed prayer entreating a divine harbinger to induct her into the sacred mysteries of physical intimacy. She kissed him with every ounce of passion she could muster and pulled her beloved close with arms and legs wrapped around him as if determined never, ever to let this man go. Tears of sheer joy trickled from her eyes at the intense sensation of penetration, slow yet thorough, setting every nerve alight.
Foreplay, as much as the excitement and anticipation of this moment, had primed Rogue for a quick climax. She never would’ve guessed, though, that the orgasm would erupt throughout her body during the initial penetration. Wringing her lips free from her lover’s, the peaking woman threw her head back and howled, “Remy! Remy! Oh mah Gawd! Oh mah GAWD!” Her voice seemed to fill the entire room with the ecstasy she was experiencing.
Meanwhile, the Cajun ran his fingers through his partner’s hair, an amazed grin plastered on his face. He’d never bedded a woman so responsive she came immediately, and he looked forward to catapulting Rogue to that height as many times as he could. To that end, Remy began moving, savoring the tight, wet warmth surrounding him. He rested his face against her neck, peppering her skin with light kisses.
Both of them completely lost track of time as they made love, Rogue too adrift on a sea of pleasure and Remy too focused on delivering more of it. The Cajun wanted his Southern belle to have a night to remember, and he had a reputation to live up to. Not that he’d have much use for that reputation anymore – deep down, he knew that this was the last woman he would ever want.
Awash in the bliss of intimacy she never thought she’d feel, Rogue could do nothing but hold onto Remy and voice the delight he was giving her. Every time she shouted his name felt even better, even more like the way things should have always been between them, than the last. Her whole world shrank down until it consisted solely of the raw ecstasy radiating from her groin, where she and her lover were conjoined. One orgasm chained into the next with only short hiatuses to catch her breath in between.
Pacing himself had allowed Remy to draw out the evening’s festivities, but he felt a familiar tightening in his loins, the herald of his impending release. His increasingly vigorous thrusts spurred Rogue to rock her hips beneath him, her body greedy for one more climax to cap off the night. Her fingers tangled in his hair or gripped the bedsheet; his clutched the small of her back or squeezed her breast. Together they wound themselves up for the grand finale.
Remy groaned as he found his release. Intense spasms wracked his body. Later, when he could form coherent thoughts, he would rank this orgasm, in terms of sheer force, only just behind the first time he’d jerked off as a teenager.
Rogue shrieked as she ascended the summit one last time. She felt her lover pulsing deep inside her and heard his groan of completion. Behind her shut eyelids, white stars seemed to explode amid the darkness.
Now spent, the two lovers held each other as close as their rubbery limbs would allow. Both of them panted from exertion. Their sweaty skin glistened. Fatigue filled them both, threatening unconsciousness.
“Ah love you, Remy,” whispered Rogue.
“I love you too, Rogue,” murmured Remy in reply.
Exhaustion soon overcame them, and they fell asleep in a tangle of arms and legs, skin against skin.

Epilogue: Future Projections

Rogue awoke the next morning to an unusual sensation: her naked body pressed against that of another person. Panicking, she bolted upright and scrambled as far away as she could without falling off the bed, terrified that she’d just drained someone to death. Belatedly, her brain identified her bedmate as Remy, and they’d made long, loud, passionate love the night before. His presence here proved that it hadn’t been a dream. Her cheeks ignited at the memories.
Gingerly, the Southern woman rested a hand on Remy’s chest. Relief filled her when she felt the regular rise and fall of deep-sleep breathing. A broad grin lit her face at the occurrence of a wicked idea.
Careful not to wake her lover, Rogue rolled Remy onto his back. A glance downward confirmed her hopes. Less than a minute’s work with her fingers stoked her own desires and prepared her for what she was about to attempt.
Rogue climbed atop her lover, legs astride his hips. She bit her lip to stifle a moan when her eager sex made contact with Remy’s morning wood. Grinding back and forth at a gentle pace, she hoped, would serve as a prelude for an encore of last night’s debut performance. Remy didn’t stir.
Pleased that she managed not to awaken him, Rogue rose on her knees and reached between her legs, intent on aligning their bodies for entry. After several failed attempts, she was rewarded with a delicious stretching, filling sensation as she enveloped his member. On instinct, the erstwhile virgin rocked her hips; she had to clap her hands over her mouth to stifle a moan as still-unfamiliar pleasures filled her senses.
One red-on-black eye peeked between cracked lids, and a languid smirk stretched across Remy’s lips. “Dis here’s one hell of a wake-up call, chére,” he teased.
“Ah hope you ain’t complainin’,” Rogue shot back, but the retort was defanged by the loud moan that followed.
“Not a-tall, mon amour,” Remy replied, opening both eyes fully to regard the naked beauty bouncing atop him. “Warms dis Cajun’s heart t’ know y’ couldn’t wait t’ go again.”
“Ah reckon Ah was thinkin’ about what happened with Jean and Scott,” she explained between moans, “how anything could happen to us, at any tahm. Ah wasted so much tahm already; whah waste any more?” Another moan, much louder, escaped her due to the influence of Remy’s hands on her breasts.
“I like de way you t’ink, Rogue,” answered the Cajun, savoring the squeals of delight she was already emitting as she rode him. “Fair warnin’: y’ done set y’self a high bar, jumpin’ me first t’ing like dis.”
Rogue bounced faster, chasing her first climax of the morning. “Ya know Ah love a good challenge, sugah!” she cried. With a mighty yell, she peaked and kept going; after letting Remy do all the work last night, she wanted to show him what she, a sassy Southern gal with years of pent-up sexual frustration to vent, was made of.
She looked forward to demonstrating to this former Casanova that he’d gone and bitten off more than he could chew.
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A/N: And that, as they say, is that. I hoped everyone enjoyed this story. If so, or if not, please leave your comments and feedback in the form of reviews, PMs, or posts to the discussion forum.
I don't know when I'll be posting more X-stories; I certainly have ideas (more than I think I have time to write in a lifetime, maybe). But I've neglected my other domain, a long-running series in the Rosario+Vampire universe, for far too long; so I'm going to work on that for a while. Until next time, happy reading!
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When It's Love