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FIC: Swashbuckling NC-17 (W/R)

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  • Elisabeth A Shanley
    Title: Swashbuckling Series: This goes in the From the Beginning Series, which is the current name for the series that includes Another Turning Point and Page
    Message 1 of 1 , Nov 1, 2001
      Title: Swashbuckling
      Series: This goes in the From the Beginning Series, which is the current
      name for the series that includes Another Turning Point and Page 42. I'm
      still looking for a good name for this series, cuz I can't seem to think up
      a good one. <g>
      Author: Beth
      Email: eshanley@...
      Rating: NC-17 for sex. The smut muse has returneth.
      Summary: Halloween. Costumes. Logan. Pirate. Marie.
      Princess. Sex. Nuff Said.
      Codes: W/R
      Disclaimers: Don't own em, making no money, I'm just doin' it for the love
      baby, I'm just doin' it for the love.
      Author's notes: For the usual suspects and their plot bunnies. For
      Rachel, who asked if there were more stories. Jenn for the beta. 9-)
      Feedback: Yes, please. 8-)


      It wasn't the way she scrunched up her nose or pursed her lips as if she
      was about to cry. It wasn't how her eyes got this sheen that hinted at
      tears. It wasn't even how she started to twist her hair around a finger,
      chewing on the ends, that was his downfall.


      It was two little words.

      "But, Daddy…"

      Those two little words turned him into jello as quick as you could say 'I
      used to be a real man'. Of course, he still growled. He even threatened,
      although he threatened Scott, not her.

      But when Carrie pleaded, Logan generally caved.

      It was a sad day for clawed, feral, ass-kicking men.

      There was little he wouldn't do, and apparently, the list no longer
      included wandering about the neighborhood, watching his child demand candy
      from virtual strangers.

      Tonight he would take his four-year-old daughter Trick or Treating.

      The first thing he noticed when he came up from the classroom levels of the
      mansion was that there were clothes laid out for him on the bed. That
      wasn't unusual. On most formal occasions Marie would put out exactly what
      he was to wear. While he was capable of dressing himself, the one occasion
      in which a plaid shirt had replaced the white one was never to be lived
      down. Logan still wasn't quite sure of the problem; after all, it hadn't
      been a flannel plaid shirt.

      The outfit on the bed was all black, so at least it wasn't something too
      weird. Upon closer inspection, Logan noticed there was a leather sash, a
      plastic sword, and dear god… an eyepatch.

      "Oh, good, you're back. We need to get moving if you're going to take
      Carrie out before the party."

      "I thought we weren't going?"

      "Logan, we have to at least make some kind of appearance. We go, we drink,
      we eat little pieces of meat and cheese off toothpicks, we leave."

      He growled, but the expression of tempered amusement on her face left him
      nothing to do but to end the growl on a sigh and head for the showers.

      Twenty minutes later, he had just finished dressing in his costume when
      Marie came back from Carrie's room. She was still wearing jeans and a
      sweatshirt, but she was now decorated with streaks of pink make-up on her
      face and neck.

      "Marie, don't you think these pants are a little tight?"

      She turned from the bureau, where she was rooting around in her jewelry box
      and looked at him thoughtfully, taking in the open black shirt, the close
      fitting black pants. "I don't think so, sugar. The guy at the costume
      store told me that it was your size." She moved over to where he stood in
      front of the mirror and took the eyepatch from him, helping him to get it
      in position, then flipped it up so he could see. "You look great."

      "I feel like an idiot."

      "Pirates are fierce and manly, not idiotic."

      "I'm Canadian. We don't have pirates."

      She giggled and went back to rooting around, finally finding a piece of
      tacky plastic jewelry. She headed back to Carrie's room, talking over her
      shoulder. "Carrie should be ready in a few minutes, sugar. Why don't you
      call over and see if Scott and Charlie are ready to go?"

      Logan headed to the phone, more than ready to get this night over with as
      soon as possible.


      "Daddy! Daddy! I got another popcorn ball!"

      "That's great, baby. Why don't we put it back in your bucket, and you can
      eat it when we get home?"

      Carrie gave him a look that definitely belied the Angel Princess costume
      she was wearing. He began to get the feeling this was what Marie was
      talking about when the words 'like father like daughter' came up. But she
      put the popcorn ball back in the almost overflowing bucket. Charlie was
      behind her, dressed in a Dracula outfit that looked amazingly like the one
      his father was wearing, clutching his own popcorn ball tightly. As Carrie
      took his hand and Charlie took his father's, Logan sniggered softly. He
      had been ribbing Scooter for the last hour or so about the matching
      costumes. That had been his only real entertainment; snacks provided by
      the people who liked to give the adults escorts a sympathy bribe of candy.

      Scott looked up and gave him a look that was clearly understandable,
      despite the ruby quartz shades he wore.

      As they walked back to the car, Logan was certain, in the two hours they
      had been at this, they had hit every house in Salem Center. Sliding behind
      the steering wheel, Logan left Scott to make sure everyone was belted in
      and started the car. Pulling away, he smiled quickly at the sight of his
      daughter's wings, dancing around in the rearview mirror.

      Returning to the Mansion, the first stop was the medlab, where the candy
      was quickly run through the X-Ray machine while Charlie and Carrie squirmed
      impatiently. After that, the Summers and the Logans parted ways. Returning
      to their suite, Logan heard Marie in the bathroom. He watched in amusement
      as Carrie dumped out her bucket of treats in the center of the family room
      floor. Stepping carefully to avoid the various sweets, Logan crossed to
      the little fridge in the corner, grabbing a bottle of beer.

      "You can have two things tonight, Carrie."

      "But Daddy…"

      The idea of years of dental appointments was enough for Logan to stand his
      ground on this one.

      "Two, Carrie."

      Moving the candy around, she looked at it, choosing an item, then putting
      it back. Finally, she took one of the popcorn balls, then after careful
      consideration, one of the little candy bars. Armed with her choices, she
      climbed onto the sofa next to Logan. She handed him the items and he
      opened them, dusting the popcorn off his pants when half of the popcorn
      ball collapsed. Turning on the TV, he and Carrie watched the hockey game,
      Logan drinking his beer as Carrie quickly devoured the sweets.

      "Well, what do you think?" Marie's voice floated over them, and father and
      daughter turned to look.

      "Mommy! You're a princess too," exclaimed Carrie.

      Logan had to agree. Her long hair was curled up in ringlets, a tiara
      resting on her head. The style of the dress was most likely 18th century,
      long and silky, the bodice cut low, her breasts pressed upwards and
      outwards by whatever it was she wore beneath the dress.

      "Thank you, sweetie. You ready for bed?"

      "No," their daughter protested, but her eyelids were already looking heavy,
      even beneath the pink and white and chocolate covering. Luckily, she
      hadn't had enough sugar to get truly wired.

      "Come on, let's wash this off, okay, sugar?"

      Carrie nodded agreeably, something she tended to do for her mother, and
      Marie picked her up, resting Carrie on a hip. "I'll just be a few
      minutes," she whispered.

      "Can't wait," Logan replied, the eyeful of cleavage he was privy to not
      completely making up for having to go to one of Xavier's parties. Marie
      winked at him, and he watched as his two princesses disappeared into
      Carrie's room.


      An hour later, bored out of his mind, Logan was wondering if Magneto might
      be available for a rematch. He took another sip of his whiskey, catching
      Marie's eye as she turned from where she was talking to a one of the
      endless people with money that Xavier usually invited to these
      things. Marie excused herself and headed in his direction.

      "You look like you're about to explode, sugar," she said, her eyes twinkling.

      "I'm bored," he said, an eyebrow raising above the eyepatch.

      "You could mingle, you know. Talk to people."

      He stared at her. "I'd be more bored. Might even be tempted to impale
      someone," he replied, waiving his plastic pirate sword half-heartedly at her

      She gave him an amused look, sliding her arm through his. "Come on, Mr.
      Canadian Pirate, let's go."

      He looked down at the long silky gloves she wore. Looking up at her face,
      he noticed her eyebrow was quirked, and that look he knew held promise was
      in her eyes. Things were looking up.

      The quiet of the elevator was a relief after the constant noise of the
      ballroom. As Logan pressed the button for the residence floor, he felt
      silk covered hands slid up his back, as Marie's satin covered body pressed
      against him.

      Her hands traced his shoulders, down his arms, wrapping herself around him,
      finally letting her hands fall to where the already tight pants were
      getting tighter by the second. Logan stepped back, then again, until he
      knew she was pressed against the rear wall of the elevator. Turning in her
      arms, he was face to face with her in a split second, his lips lowering to
      hers. His hands slid around until he could pull her closer, deepening the
      kiss as he did. Her mouth was warm and tasted like the champagne punch she
      had been drinking all night.

      The elevator pinged insistently, waiting for them to exit. Marie pushed
      him backward, not breaking the kiss, and he moved. They were halfway down
      the hall before they broke for breath. Logan pressed against her, and
      Marie looked down, grinning up at him as she saw his erection straining
      against the pirate pants. Turning back down the hall, she grabbed his
      hand, pulling him along behind her.

      Entering their room, Marie walked in front of Logan, stopping inside the
      family room. Emily, their babysitter, on the sofa doing her homework for
      Ororo's history class.

      Emily gave them a smile. "She's still asleep, Miss Rogue, Mr Logan. She
      woke up once for some water, but she's been quiet since."

      "Thanks, Emily," Marie said, not moving from her position in front of
      Logan. Grabbing her books, Emily left the room, heading back to the student
      wing. That was one nice thing about living in a house full of teenagers,
      Logan thought. There was always a babysitter around.

      When the door closed behind Emily, Marie turned around. Smiling at him,
      she ran her fingers through his hair as he pulled her close. Logan growled
      as he once again lost himself in the taste and feel of his wife, letting
      the passion grow.

      Marie was ready for him, pressing her body against his. A silk-coverered
      hand moving between them to rub against him. A murmuring from the
      direction of Carrie's room made its way into Logan's consciousness, and he
      raised his head, looking in the direction of Carrie's room. Turning to
      look in that direction, Marie let him go with a whimper, heading to
      Carrie's room. Logan waited in the family room in an uncomfortable state
      of arousal, tossing eyepatch and sword on the desk, relieved when Marie
      returned in a few seconds.

      "Just talking in her sleep. I tucked her in again, and she didn't wake."

      He nodded and followed her into their room, shutting the door tightly when
      they were inside. He turned around to see her looking at him. He raised
      an eyebrow.

      "You look very piratey. Even if you did take off the eyepatch," she giggled.

      "You look… quite ravishable, Madame Marie," he replied, stalking toward her.

      She giggled harder, then tried to make a straight face. "Are you planning
      to ravish me, oh fierce pirate of Canada?"

      "I was thinking about it, but I'm not going to if you keep up with the
      Canada cracks," he told her, walking over to the bed and sitting down.

      She snorted, putting on a serious expression. She walked over and stood in
      front of him, looking down at him. Her silk covered fingers slid into his
      hair, then down to lift up his chin. Her lips hovered above his. "Then I
      guess I'll have to ravish you, my pirate," she whispered. And her lips
      moved onto his, sealing her promise.

      She pushed him back onto the bed as her tongue traced his lips, then slid
      to war with his. Logan shuddered at the feel of body-warmed silk tracing
      patterns into the skin of his chest through the deep V of the open black
      silk shirt. Slipping free of his mouth, Marie kissed down his neck to
      his chest. She kissed and licked until she finally slid off the bed, her
      eyes level with his erection. Logan bolted upright as he felt her kiss him
      through the fabric, then felt her warm breath on him as she teased him
      through the fabric.

      Marie smiled tightly up at him, passion making her needy and
      determined. She started to undo the buttons of the fly, and Logan was
      thankful that two years of undoing button flies with gloves on had given
      his wife this skill. When the fly was open, she grinned at him.

      "Worried about a pantyline, were we?" she asked, not waiting for an
      answer, her tongue tracing him.

      When she took him in her mouth, Logan growled. Her tongue slid over him,
      her teeth gently nipped. Silk-encased fingers lifted him, caressing up and
      down the warm skin of the shaft as her tongue swirled around the head. He
      was hard and ready and needy, and he could feel the warmth in her, hear how
      her blood was pounding.

      Sliding a hand into her hair, knocking the tiara askew, not that either
      noticed, Logan pulled her from him, carefully, but firmly. Her full lips
      made a moue of disappointment, but when Logan pulled her upright, then fell
      to his knees on the floor in front of her, she moaned in anticipation.

      Logan flipped up what seemed like a thousand skirts, his hands finally
      encountering her legs, bare of hose. Looking up in the dark under her
      skirts, he could tell there were no panties in his way. A growling chuckle
      started deep in his throat as her scent surrounded him in the tent created
      by her skirts.

      One hand went around to hold her steady, cupping the soft weight of her
      rear as the other hand caressed the backs of her knees, sliding up and down
      the soft skin of her thighs. He heard her moan, and moved closer, letting
      a finger slide between the sable curls between her legs.

      Marie cried out as Logan did things that she couldn't see, could only feel,
      the knot inside her grew as his finger, then two, slid along the outer
      lips. Her knees weakened as he slid one finger deeper, curling around to
      hit her g-spot.

      Logan knew she couldn't stand much longer, so he lifted her, moving until
      she fell back onto the bed, never moving from beneath her skirts. Once he
      no longer had to support her, he used both hands to open her, his tongue
      finally finding and tormenting her clitoris, licking softly, then sucking

      Feeling her tense, Logan stopped, needing to be with her. He fought his
      way free of the skirts, moving to stand over her. Bending, he watched her
      as he unbuttoned a few of the pearl buttons at the bodice of her dress, her
      breasts falling out, the cut of the dress still pressing them up. Her
      nipples were tight and hard as he lowered his lips, letting one hand stray
      back down under the skirts as he laved and nipped.

      Marie was ready to throw him down on the bed when he stepped back. They
      were both panting hard, and Marie took a quick gasp of air as her drying
      nipples felt the air and she saw Logan's expression of need, his penis dark
      and engorged.

      She opened her arms, and he looked at her, then looked down at himself.

      "Let's do this the piratey way," he said, his voice rough with
      passion. Extending a hand to her, he pulled her up, watching in regret as
      her skirts fell again. He stacked a few pillows at the end of the bed,
      then moved to stand behind her. Marie leaned over, resting her arms
      against the pillows, a shiver running through her as Logan lifted her
      skirts from behind.

      One large hand caressed her as it moved around her hips to cup her, tilt
      her. Logan was close, and a second later and a deep thrust, and she was
      pulling him closer. They both sighed in relief.

      The time for slow was long since over, and Logan began to thrust, sliding
      inside her, the muscles under that soft and wet skin pulling him deeper,
      tightening around him. The bed shook as he pushed forward, then slid back,
      his fingers seeking and finding the knot of nerves inside her.

      Marie gasped at the first stroke of his fingers, and when his fingers slid
      on her in cadence with the rhythm of his thrusts, she pushed backwards,
      drawing him tighter, closer. Their movements became more and more erratic,
      until Logan felt her pull him deeper, her muscles all around him, grasping
      him until he came, her name low and rough, the only thing he could remember
      that mattered in his world.


      He woke when she moved, mainly because he was lying on top of her, and she
      was rubbing her rear against him. He was still inside her, so he noticed
      right away when she was able to move again. Flipping himself over, he
      broke the intimate connection unwillingly, smiling when she slid over him,
      resting her knees on either side of his hips.

      He returned her kiss, following her back up as she tried to break the
      connection. Finally, he broke off, arousal already singing in his veins;
      the steady pounding of blood as it relocated from one head to another.

      Marie looked down at her dress and sighed, "Well, this one's ruined…"

      Logan blinked, then smiled.

      "The Lady and the pirate. You planned this," he accused, amused by the
      outraged expression on her face, completely at odds with the desire that
      danced in her eyes.

      "Well, I assumed that a Canadian pirate would be more gentlemanly…" she
      began, cut off when Logan reached up, a claw sliding out. Staring into her
      eyes, he slid the blade between her breasts, then down, keeping it a
      hairsbreadth from her skin, but cutting the elaborate dress from her.

      Marie quivered but didn't dare move, not until he was done, and the claw
      slid back beneath his skin. A moan came unbidden as he slid the dress from
      her like a coat, sitting up so the hairs of his chest, quite accessible
      through the open shirt, tormented her sensitized breasts. His lips were at
      her throat, then down, returning to suckle, then sliding upward again,
      returning taste and drink from her lips.

      Her hands scrabbled at the shirt, pulling it out of the pants, ripping
      it. Her fingers, still covered in silk, fumbled at the leather
      sash. Finally getting the buckle open, and she threw it over her head, not
      caring where it landed. Standing, she kicked off her shoes, then pulled
      his boots off.

      It was a good thing she still had the gloves on when she started on the
      pants, Logan figured, because her nails could have done some damage if she
      When he was nude, and she was dressed only in the gloves, she climbed back
      onto the bed, straddling him again. Their hands were busy on each other,
      playing with sensitive nerves and skin. Logan kissed his way down her
      cheeks, then licked her neck, biting gently, then kissing to make it better.

      Marie was being carried away as he tasted her skin, rubbing herself against
      him, making sure her breasts stroked his skin. Her hand slid between them
      and she fondled him, reaching below to trace the soft skin that covered his
      balls, moving to the underside of this cock, never letting him be
      untouched. When he thrust against her hand, she pressed her body down on
      his, wedging them tighter, feeling a shudder move through him.

      Pulling her hand free, Marie moved her leg, wincing at the stiffness,
      wrapping it around his hips, then repeating the procedure on the other
      side, until she was curled around him. Their eyes met as he lifted her,
      and slowly and gently, as lips met, he lowered her onto him. They both
      sighed as he slid inside, as Marie shifted to take him deeper.

      Her hands were twisted around his back, his hands were holding her rear,
      and they started to move, undulating, striving. Marie pulled the gloves
      from her arms, throwing them to the side, not wanting anything between
      them, skin to skin, from head to toe. They were wrapped around and in each
      other, whispering words of love and lust and need softly into each other's

      This time, when the explosion came, it was that rare time when they were
      perfectly attuned, when they went over the summit together, muscles
      clenching and straining, slick and warm, powerful bodies united in a
      powerful act of mating.

      The aftershocks slid through them like lightening, leaving them quivering
      and convulsing as they came down from the high. Logan moved until he was
      on his back, Marie atop him, bodies still connected, nerves still
      humming. Marie whispered teasing words in his ear, telling him he'd make a
      wonderful pirate, even in swashbuckling places like Alberta. Logan swatted
      her on the rear, snorting since he refused to laugh.

      Not long after that, Marie stole out to the family room, returning with a
      handful of Carrie's miniature candy bars. They ate the sweets while still
      teasing each other, feeding each other bits of chocolate.

      Finally, they fell asleep, pulling the covers around them, nestling deep in
      the warmth of their bed.


      Logan always knew when someone was watching him when he woke up. This
      morning was no different. He looked over Marie's naked shoulder to see
      Carrie standing at the side of the bed, a look of disapproval in her hazel
      eyes. Well, eye actually, for her left eye was covered by the
      eyepatch. She was wearing her wings and had Marie's tiara resting on her
      dark hair. Logan idly wondered when and where it had fallen off.

      She held up the candy wrappers that they had let fall to the floor the
      night before.

      "You were only supposed to eat two, Daddy."

      Elisabeth A Shanley

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