By Bobbi Todd
Part Eight
The X-Men are the property of Marvel Comics and are used here without their
permission.
Rated NC-17 for graphic sexual content, both consensual and non-consensual, as
well as for violence and offensive language. If you are under the legal age for
this sort of thing, then GET OUT!
Scott landed the blackbird near the open door of the hidden base, the light from
the hallway having led them to its location. The crew chief's body, just inside
the door, had not yet begun to cool. A blood-curdling scream still echoed in the
hall when the X-Men entered, Logan in the lead. Scott, Henry, Jean, Jubilee and
Ororo followed, Gambit and Rogue brought up the rear.
"Creed's already here," Logan said as he stepped over the body and strode
purposefully down the long hallway. Henry paused only long enough to determine
that the man could not be helped by any earthly means, then followed his friends
cautiously down the corridor. They checked each doorway, determined to leave no
enemy at their back. Logan didn't wait for them.
"Shhhhhh, hush, honey," Creed crooned to the girl in his arms. "Everything's
gonna be fine. I'm gonna get you to a doctor...." his voice trailed off. He
didn't know any doctors. At least none he'd be willing to take her to.
He was feeling better, the last of the injuries he'd sustained in crashing the
snowmobile had healed and his exhaustion had faded almost as soon as he'd
entered the room. He didn't know if Anna had anything to do with it or not, and
he found he didn't care. He'd never felt this way about anyone in his life. Not
even Birdie had given him this rush when she'd hit him with her telepathic
strike, triggering the 'glow' he'd needed. He had to take care of her. That was
all that mattered right now.
Anna quieted as he moved through the corpse-strewn room and stepped out into the
hall ... just as Logan rounded the corner at the far end of the corridor.
"Put the girl down, Creed," Logan snarled, his claws glittering in the harsh
fluorescent lights. "This's between you n' me." Her scent hit him like a
physical blow. He nearly reeled with the conflicting desires raging within his
mind and body.
"Not a chance, runt," Creed answered coldly. "I'll be damned if I give you
another chance ta hurt her."
"What?" Logan took a step forward, wanting to kill his opponent, partly because
of who and what he was, but also because he was in possession of the girl.
"She told me what you did. You ain't gonna touch her again."
"Victor," Anna's voice was soft. Creed felt his chest constrict at how weak she
sounded. "Please. He didn't rape me. He ran instead. I gave myself to him." He
looked down at her, lying in his arms. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I was so
afraid." She sighed. "Please don't hurt him."
Logan growled deep in his throat and took another step forward. He knew he was
close to losing control, but the only thing that seemed to matter right now was
killing Creed and taking the girl. He needed to feel her lips against his, her
bare breasts against his chest, her legs wrapped around him, her hips moving
with him as he thrust into her soft warmth ...
"Wolvie!" Jubilee's voice broke through the haze surrounding his mind. The
teenager clutched his arm, pulling back on him with little effect, her small
booted feet sliding across the tile floor. The other X-Men were behind them,
waiting anxiously. "Wolvie, stop!" She didn't flinch when he turned to look down
at her, though the lust burned hotly in his eyes. She knew he wouldn't hurt her.
Just as she knew Sabretooth wouldn't hurt the woman he held so carefully.
"Wolvie, look at him! Look at him!" She said insistently. "He's not gonna hurt
her! We don't hafta do this!"
"Back off," Creed snarled before Logan could answer Jubilee. "Ya sawed of little
piece o' ...."
"Victor ..." Anna's voiced faded to nothing as she went limp in his grasp, her
fragile hold on consciousness broken.
"Anna?" Creed's voice cracked on the single word, anguish closing his throat for
a moment.
Henry pushed past Logan and Jubilee, approaching Creed with great caution.
"I am a physician, Mr. Creed, and the young lady appears to be in need of my
services." Creed looked at him for a moment, the expression in his eyes that of
a lost soul. "Do you have a first aid center at this facility?"
"Yeah, but its ... kind of a mess right now," Creed looked down at Anna once
more. "I really don't wanna take her back in there."
"Somewhere else, perhaps? Near enough that I may partake of the supplies with
relative ease?"
"Doc's quarters 're next door down."
"Lead the way, please." Henry glanced back at Logan, still standing stock still
in the hall, then past him to the other X-Men. "Ororo? If you wouldn't mind
assisting me?"
"Of course, Henry." Creed turned his back without a glance at Logan and carried
Anna to the deceased doctor's room. After one quick look into the medical room,
Henry could understand his reluctance to take the girl in there.
"Jean," the redhead turned at her love's voice. "I don't think Henry's filters
are working."
"You may be right. Logan is ... Scott? Are you all right?" The upright, and
often uptight, X-Man was visibly trembling. She opened herself to his thoughts
through their psychic bond, which she had unconsciously suppressed while trying
to reach Logan. She was surprised by his highly agitated state of mind, and the
blatantly erotic turn of his thoughts.
"Um, right. Maybe we should ... go back to the blackbird and report to the
Professor," Jean said, taking his arm casually. "Remy, Rogue, could the two of
you sort of ... check out this place? See if there is anyone else around?"
"Oui, wi't pleasure, ma chere."
"Sure, sugah. Seein' as how it don't look like Hank is gonna need us right off."
"Jubilee?" The teen still clung to Logan's arm, though much of the tension had
drained from his frame as Creed moved further away with Anna.
"I got 'im, Jean."
"Thanks." She turned, pulling gently on Scott's arm. "C'mon, Scott, let's go."
He followed her willingly enough, though his teeth were clenched with the effort
required to move normally.
Logan suddenly retracted his claws, causing Jubilee to jump. She released his
arm, balled her small hand into a fist and punched him in the shoulder as hard
as she could.
"Don't do that!" she squeaked.
"Thanks, darlin'."
"Fer what, punchin' ya?"
"Just ... thanks." He was still having trouble with the concept of Jezebel ...
Anna, he realized now, being with Creed. The physical need for the girl
diminished with every inch of distance as Creed carried her down the hall, but
he'd entertained half-formed thoughts of romance. And sex, of course. Lots of
sex. In lots of exotic places. Trying every different position which occurred to
either of them, ... He shook himself. He'd have to talk to Hank about the damned
filters he'd whipped up. They didn't work worth a hoot.
Jubilee stepped up to the open door to the regular medical office, and looked
inside.
"Ewwwww! Cuisine-Art City here, Wolvie." She crossed her arms and leaned on the
doorframe as Logan moved up beside her. "I am not cleanin' this up!" Considering
the state of the corpses and the lingering scents of human rut, Logan couldn't
even blame Creed for the savagery of the men's deaths. He'd have probably done
the same thing.
"You go find out if Hank needs anything, darlin'. I'll start diggin' and see
what I can find in here."
"Yer gonna go in there? Ewwwww!" Jubilee snorted as she turned to follow Henry
and Ororo.
Jean, her arm looped through Scott's, steered him to the blackbird. They climbed
aboard and Scott abruptly pulled her to him, his thoughts still jumbled, but at
the same time very clear. She fully opened the bond she shared with him and
gasped at the extent of the need which raged through him.
He kissed her roughly, his hands on her back, holding her against him, his
tongue probing between her lips demandingly. He released her lips, his mouth
seeking her throat instead, one hand now pulling at the fastening of her
uniform.
"Scott. Scott!" Jean shouted. He released her so abruptly she nearly fell. He
turned and slammed one fist into the wall of the blackbird.
"Jean, I'm ... I'm sorry. I ..."
"It's all right, Scott," she said, regaining her feet completely. "Just ... slow
down a little." She grinned at his expression. "And maybe, I don't know, shut
the door?" He straightened his body and carefully pushed the button which closed
the door. As the hatch swung shut, Jean began to slowly unfasten her uniform,
which split down the front. A small tuft of red hair was peeking out of the
opening when Scott took her shoulders in his hands and pulled her against him
once more.
He hooked his thumbs under the edges of the opening and slowly pushed the
material down off her shoulders. He peeled the material away from her arms,
leaving her bare from the waist up. He kissed her again, his hands exploring the
sleekness of her bare flesh. She moaned into his mouth as he slid his hand down
her back, beneath the material still clinging to her skin. She carefully
loosened the buckle, so blatantly branding him an X-Man, and unfastened his
pants. He pushed her uniform down and she stepped out of it, standing in his
arms wearing nothing but her boots. She stroked his rock hard manhood and rubbed
it against her belly.
"Fuck me, Scott," she whispered in his ear. He grabbed her buttocks and lifted
her, displaying the strength he'd developed in his many hours in the danger
room. She threw her arms around his neck, and wrapped her legs around him as he
lowered her, impaling her on his erection as she kissed him passionately. He put
her back to the door between the cockpit and the cabin of the plane and began to
pump his meat into her juicy cunt. Their bond allowed them to share the
sensations each was feeling, spiraling ever higher.
"Oh! Yes! Scott!" she cried as he plunged within her, his teeth on her throat,
her hands tangled in his hair.
"Ah! God! Jean!" he gasped as she came on his rigid member, her pussy clamping
down on him. Then he was cumming, his balls drawn up and hard as steel as his
jism shot into her.
Her ankles were crossed behind him, her back pressed into the cold steel of the
door, her body surrounding his still hard member as they gasped for breath. He
let his head fall forward, resting his forehead against her breastbone, the
visor warm against her flesh. She put her cheek against the top of his head, her
hands lightly on his shoulders.
"Wow," he murmured into the cleavage between her breasts.
"Wow, indeed," she responded. "But about that ... report ... we're supposed to
be making ...."
"Right." He lifted her gently, slipping out of her almost reluctantly. He kissed
her lingeringly as set her on her feet. She stepped back into her uniform as he
contacted the Professor.
