In the Midnight Hour By Melissa Nolen Disclaimer - The following characters belong to Marvel. I don't own them and I'm not making any money off of them. Rated NC-17 for sexual content. If you are under the age of 18 please turn back now - you have been warned. Banshee walked patrol though the main house at the Massachusetts Academy. Not, he thought to himself, that he needed to walk patrol. The school's security system was beyond state of the art, with its amalgam of Shi'ar, Frost Technologies, and Forge modified systems working together to keep the place safe. No expense had been spared when it came to the security system, the adult members of the various X-Team all recognizing the inherent dangers to the next generation of mutants to follow Xavier's dream. He was restless this night with an inner turmoil that refused to let him sleep, so he had put that restless energy to use and began his patrol. However, the school was as quiet as it had been all week, not even small giggles coming from Artie and Leech's treehouse. All of the students, including Penance, whom Jubilee had somehow persuaded to go along, were visiting the X-Men in New York. The Danger Grotto was fine for most training but it had been decided that the Generation X kids needed some space training - considering the frequency that the X-Men got drug off into space on one mission of rescue or another. Only the Danger Room with its holographic Shi'ar technology could adequately simulate an outer space training environment. With the children fully under the watchful eyes of Scott Summers and mind of Jean Grey, both Sean and his fellow instructor Emma Frost had decided to stay behind at the Academy and take a small breather from their duties. But no duties meant peace and quiet and the quiet did nothing to calm the restlessness that kept him walking. In fact, the silence and the shadows just seemed to intensify the confused thoughts and feelings in his head. For with the children away, there was nothing to keep himself distracted from his fellow teacher, Emma Frost. She haunted him and this past week alone with her had been torture for him. She had increased the flirtation she usually indulged in and he was positive that she took great delight in tormenting him. Just this morning she had brought up the towel incident, like he would ever forget it. He had tried to be a gentleman, tried to look away, but her white gold body was forever seared into his brain. And that attraction to Emma did nothing to ease his guilt at finding it harder and harder to call Moira's face to memory. It didn't help any that more than a month had gone by since he had seen her in person; and when he tried to call her, she ended the calls quickly with talk of her research and search for a cure for the Legacy Virus. He wanted to be there for her, wanted to hold her, if nothing else to give her a shoulder to lean on, but she kept pushing him away, telling him she was fine, that she didn't need him. And every time Moira pushed him away, a traitorous part of his mind whispered that Emma would never let anything she claimed as hers simply drift away. Emma Frost was not happy. She had been staring out of the library windows now for 2 hours. She was disgusted with herself and more than a little annoyed at Sean Cassidy. She was unable to sleep and eventually Sean's restlessness had driven her from her bed to find this quiet spot. Even when she wasn't actively "reading" a mind, she was aware of the minds around her as a continuous background noise. She privately thought of it as mental Muzac. Tonight she was very aware of her fellow headmaster's disquiet. While he usually maintained strict mental shields around her, tonight he was leaking quite loudly, probably believing that she was asleep in her room. She kept getting flashes of his mental and emotional confusion, just not exactly what was causing it. But right now his restlessness was being transmitted to her and as long as he was pacing the corridors of the school, she wasn't going to get any sleep either. She sat curled in one of the big chairs with her feet tucked up under her, hoping the moonlight would soothe her. The silver light had always woven a spell of peace around her whenever she stood in chaos, which, considering her life so far, was most of the time - but tonight it was not working its magic. That magic was one of the reasons that her rooms always had windows - to let in the light and keep out the darkness. She snorted softly to herself in disgust, a grown woman afraid of the dark, now wouldn't Jubilee think that was funny. She smiled ruefully as her youngest student crossed her mind. She and the rest of the Generation X students were safely away in Westchester, trying out their particular brand of mischief against the X-Men. If bets were being taken, she would have placed money on her students. She turned in the chair as she heard a footstep in the hallway and then watched from the shadows as her fellow teacher walked into the room. He had checked most of the rooms in the house, one of the last being the huge library on the first floor. The door was closed when he pushed it open on its silent hinges. Light streamed through the huge windows at the end of the room, casting the room into bands of alternating light and shadow. Everything looked peaceful and quiet in the room and he was about to back out of the doorway when he caught the slight movement in one of the big leather wingchairs. She watched him as he entered the room, still unaware of her presence. He moved through the shadows with confidence, unafraid of the dark. She knew she was attracted to him, to his strength, to his inner brightness. He was like the moonlight with his ability to calm her and he didn't even realize that she relied on his strength, believed in him, trusted him. She startled herself with that thought, when had she started to trust him? She had trusted no one but herself for so very long. As she lifted herself out of the chair and the shadows she wondered what drove him to wander the halls tonight. She stood and stepped gracefully towards the light. Sean felt a shiver run down his spine and heat flush his face as she took another step into a pool of moonlight slanting across the floor. A moment of absolute panic hit when he saw her step into the light, afraid that she had seen his thoughts, felt the desire for her that he wrestled with. He decided in that moment that the moon did her justice. Its warm silvery glow softened her, creating a halo effect around her white blond hair. The light sparkled in her eyes, almost blinding him with their intensity. He really wished that she wouldn't dress like that. Granted, now that she had taken the job as headmistress of the School, her clothing had become a bit more demure when placed against the clothing - or lack of clothing - that she had worn as the former White Queen of the Hellfire Club, but it seemed that since the children were away, Emma had reverted to her previous taste in clothes. She could feel the tension leap in him the minute she stepped into the light. One part of her laughed with delight at the embarrassed blush that reddened his face. The flush told her, even without telepathy, that she was what had driven him to walk the corridors tonight. She smiled as he tried to hide his reaction to her sudden appearance but he was unable to conceal the way his eyes slowly traveled up her body. She had never been one to play the shy virgin, preferring to be the one in control of any relationship, but lately she wondered what it would be like to take a lover as an equal. She had briefly contemplated taking Bobby Drake as that lover after the possession incident but quickly realized that Bobby would have been no equal. He would have been fun for a few days but eventually she would have eaten him alive and spit out the pieces. He lacked that core of inner strength that Sean radiated; the strength that fascinated her so. Bobby was the boy to Sean's man. And it was the man who was staring at her now with a look so intense that it was almost a physical caress that started at her feet and slowly traveled up her legs. She watched his face and his eyes as his attention was caught by the slit in the white silk gown, knowing that the slit would lead his eyes upward along her smooth thigh to where it ended just below her right hip. As his eyes skimmed further up across the lace bodice of the gown to the v neckline and thin straps, she could feel her nipples harden against the gown. The smooth feel of the silk accentuated the tingling and tightening in her breasts. She took a careful breath and smiled as his eyes widened with the raising of her chest. She was so damn beautiful. Her blond hair had swung forward partially shadowing her face. She stood waiting to see what he would do. What would he do? What did he want to do? Want? He wanted her, had wanted her for quite some time. He wanted to revel in the electricity that jumped between them whenever one of them forgot and let their guard down, wanted to feel her wrap her exquisite long legs around his waist, what he wanted was to feel her sink her nails in his back and scream out his name. The true question, he decided in that split second, was not what he wanted, but was he willing to pay the price for that want. The answer was he didn't know. Surely this feeling that hit him when she smiled at him was just lust mixed with loneliness. Was he ready to believe that what was between him and Moira was really over? It had been so long since he had held Moira and she had not pushed him away. He loved Moira, didn't he? Didn't he? Why was it so hard to picture Moira's face? Why did Emma fill his dreams? Why couldn't he picture Moira? Without even realizing it he was across the room and standing next to her. He couldn't even remember moving, so intent was he on the look in her eyes. He saw fire burning there with an intensity that set the blood pounding in his veins. Taking a step closer he reached up and stole one light touch down her arm, feeling her body heat under his fingertips. His answers came with that single touch. He realized with not some fear that he desperately wanted to be burned by that fire. She titled her head and her hair slid silkily across the back of his hand. He could smell her now - a strange blend of warm vanilla and jasmine that seemed to both cloud and sharpen his senses at the same time. She was going to be his misfortune and at that moment he really didn't care. They had skirted around their attraction for so long, danced and turned and went about their duties, studiously ignoring the attraction. She wondered briefly what it was about this particular man that drew her when all the others in her life were just obstacles to overcome. She wanted to run from the room and the tension that hung heavy in the air. She wanted to fling herself on him and ravish him. She wanted to scream. In the end she did nothing but simply stood her ground, afraid that any overt movement on her part would send him away. She knew that Sean had to take that first step. She could not do it for him because he would simply retreat from her as he had in the past. He would have to make his own decision. Not, she thought with a grin, that she would let him back out of it once that step was taken. She wondered if tonight was the night, if tonight he would make that choice. Then he was beside her; so close and yet he still hadn't touched her. The desire to scream was becoming harder to control. She watched him as he circled around behind her and raised one hand to lightly brush her arm and shoulder. Yeessss. His touch left gooseflesh as a small involuntary shiver seized her. She was the candle to his moth. She drew him in and he felt helpless to fight it, but then, he thought ruefully, he wasn't at all sure he wanted to fight it anymore. He was so tired of fighting himself. He leaned forward to plant a single kiss on the tender spot just below her right ear. He could feel her pulse beating rapidly beneath his lips. He drew a shaky breath and whispered into her ear, "Lass, ye'll be my undoing." She leaned against his chest and laughed lightly, her voice low and husky. "Funny, I was just thinking you would be my salvation." He kissed the top of one satin shoulder, delighting in her indrawn breath at the touch of his lips. Sliding his hands up the bodice of the silk gown, he ran his thumbs up from the small of her back. He smiled as he felt her arch into the caress like a cat. The thought crossed his mind that he would definitely like to hear this particular cat purr. While his hands moved up her back, his lips and tongue continued their assault on the tender flesh of her white throat. He bit down gently and then used his tongue to soothe away the minute hurt. Reaching up to her shoulders, he hooked his thumbs under each of the slim straps of the gown. He paused, his thumbs making small circles under the straps on her collarbone. They'd reached a point of no return, nothing had happened, everything up to this point could be written off, shuffled aside, easily forgotten. Did he want to forget? Did she? "Emma?" the question plain in his voice. He was waiting for her to make the next move. She knew that that this would have to be a slow seduction, his doubts and fears about her and himself were still too strong. And yet that seduction worked both ways because this would be no easy dalliance; if she truly wanted Sean body and soul she had to be willing to freely give up her own. The frightening thing was she couldn't remember how long it been since she had given herself up into another's care. She wondered now if she had ever. She could stop this now, knew his sense of honor would allow her to walk away unscathed from this encounter, that if she stepped away now, he would never mention this night, never hold it against her, never betray her. She thought about it. She had never been one for trust since she had first run away from home as an abused if privileged child. Her entire life after that had been about making sure that no one ever had that kind of control over her again. But there was no command, no threat of domination in his warm hands, no pain in the soft kisses that he ran up her throat. She made her decision. Reaching up she rested her own hands over his and gently tugged until he slid his hands down her arms. The straps caught on his thumbs slid over her shoulders and the gown slithered down to fall at her feet in a ivory puddle of silk within the silver moonlight. His breath caught as the silk pooled at her feet. She was so damn beautiful. He widened his stance and, sliding his hands around her trim waist, pulled her back against him so she fit tightly between his legs and against his rapidly hardening member. He went back to nibbling on the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulders as he slowly ran his fingertips lightly up from her waist and across her ribcage. Ever so lightly, he brushed against the underside of her breasts, running his fingers along the outside edges, teasing her with his touch. She could feel the hard length of him pressed against her backside. The tingles that raced down her spine to congregate in the pit of her stomach intensified as she snuggled tighter against him. She refused to think about how well she fit against his body or how right the connection felt to her. The feel of his hands creating lazy circles on the sides of her breasts caused her to arch into his touch, seeking more of the exquisite pleasure that was running through her veins. He tormented her with his nearness to her enlarged nipples but never quite got close enough. She arched her back again, thrusting her aching breasts into his hands while he teased and tantalized her. He chuckled softly as she growled in frustration. She turned her head to look back at him, "Just wait, your turn is coming." She felt the shudder that went through his body at her words and smiled before turning her attention once more to the feelings he was generating. She hummed a low noise deep in her throat that sent a bolt of desire through his body. He could feel his body straining against his clothes and the thin barrier of her silk panties. She was twisting her hips and rubbing her tight buttocks against his arousal. He moved his hands up to cup her breasts, delighting in her responsiveness to his touch. Cupping her breasts, he kneaded them gently, still staying just outside of her straining tips. He leaned in close to Emma's ear and took a small nibble on her earlobe. "Tell me what ye want Emma." "Tell me what ye want Emma," the smooth Irish accent had darkened and lowered, husky now. She let the passion in that voice wash over her. She knew exactly what she wanted. She reached out the tip of her tongue to lick suddenly dry lips. "I want you," she stated simply. It seemed as if that was indeed the answer he was waiting to hear. She heard the rumble of desire behind her and closing her eyes she gave herself up to the feeling he was eliciting from her body. For a heartbeat she stopped breathing as he passed his callused thumbs over her sensitive nipples, sending tiny shockwaves through her body. Then her breath caught and quickened. She was breathing hard now and could hear Sean's own ragged breaths behind her. She twisted her hips against his erection, hearing as well as feeling him groan at her actions. He was straining now at the seams of his jeans, the need to possess her, to bury himself in her warm body, so strong he could barely think. He clung to the shreds of his self control while her twisting and rubbing did nothing to alieviate the growing pressure. He gave in to his desire to taste her, moving his hands back down to her waist and slowly turning her around to face him. Emma was not a small woman, but with her standing so close, she looked almost petite standing within the curve of his arms. The sudden protective and possessive urge that shot through him took him by surprise. He moved his hands up to cup her face, burying his fingers in the silky hair that framed her flushed face. Her eyelids, heavy with desire, were half shuttered over her glittering blue eyes. Her lips parted slightly in invitation. He caressed the sides of her face with this thumbs, shifting one hand to lightly rub one thumb over her full bottom lip. 'So beautiful," her murmured as he bent to capture her lips in a kiss. He bent his head to kiss her and she was lost. She raised herself up on her tiptoes and slid her arms around his neck to both raise herself up and simultaneously pull him down to her. Opening her mouth to his seeking tongue, she took control and deepened the kiss, tasting the dark warmth of his mouth, sliding her tongue along his in this most ancient of duels; tasting him and delighting in the hard body pressed so closely against her own. He pulled her tighter to him in order to feel her pressed against his length. He pulled back from the kiss to trace across her face, kissing her closed eyelids, nibbling along her delicate jawline before returning to capture her mouth in another deep kiss. She moved back out of his embrace and leaned up on her toes to lightly brush her lips against his ear and purred, "You coming?" Turning, she bent down and scooped up the gold silk gown from the floor. She walked slowly out of the library, confident that he would follow. Her hips swaying as the gown trailed behind her on the floor, she looked back over one bare shoulder at Sean, still standing rooted to the spot in the moonlight, "Catch me if you can." He stood stock still for a moment, his mind whirling, his body protesting the removal of her warm presence pressed against him. Then he grinned and, taking a few running steps, caught her as she was about to exit the library door, sweeping her up in his arms and pulling her back close against his chest. She gave a small squeak of surprise, then settled down against his chest, running her arms loosely around his neck, her slim fingers playing with his hair over his temple while reaching up to do some nibbling of her own on his throat and sensitive earlobe. The sensations she was sending through him with each small caress and teasing kiss were maddening to the point of distraction. He almost dropped her when she traced his ear with her tongue. He wondered if she truly had any idea of what she did to him. She was surprised when he had swept her up in his arms. And yet the feel of strong arms around her brought a definite thrill. Besides, she thought, with him standing behind her in the library, she really hadn't been able to indulge her own desires to touch and taste and nip. This gave her the perfect opportunity to explore him. Twisting slightly in his arms, she opened the top two buttons on his chambray shirt and slipped her hand beneath the fabric, the springy red- blond hairs on his chest tickling her fingertips. His skin was hot to the touch, almost feverish, and she could feel the rapid beat of his heart. She couldn't help herself when she twisted several of the hairs about one manicured finger and gave an small experimental tug. He growled at her but she noticed that he shivered when she leaned forward to lick the offended spot in apology. He carried her into her bedroom, years of paranoia making him kick the bedroom door closed behind him, even though he knew they were alone. Letting go with the arm that supported her legs her body slid down his until she once again stood on her feet. He noticed that her bedroom, like the library, was bathed in moonlight from large windows that dominated the room. Sheer gauzy curtains shrouding the windows did nothing to block the moon and starlight from reaching the silk sheeted antique poster bed that dominated the room. The room was spotless, controlled, but with an underlying air of sumptuous elegance that branded the room as hers. When she stood on her own two feet again she pulled herself out of his grasp. She ran one finger lightly across his lips, down past his square chin and throat to where she had undone the top two buttons of his shirt, and stopped. "You are entirely overdressed for the occasion." Laughing, he reached up to the shirt's buttons but she stopped him with a light touch on the back of one of his hands, "No, allow me." Gently pulling his hands away, she stepped closer to him and undid the first of the remaining four buttons. As the shirt gaped open she leaned in and planted a light kiss where the button had met. As her lips met his warm skin she breathed in the masculine spicy scent of him. He never wore cologne that she could tell, yet he always seemed to her to smell faintly of cloves. She darted her tongue out to get a quick taste and was rewarded with a shudder that rippled the firm muscles beneath her lips. God! she was driving him insane. Her warm wet tongue tracing abstract patterns on his chest was pushing what little control he had regained to the breaking point. The little sound of delight she made as she undid each button and uncovered each new patch of skin was almost more than he could bear. As she undid the last button he staggered as she swirled her tongue around and then dipped into his belly button, only his hands gripping her slim shoulders keeping him upright. He watched her straighten up, her eyes twinkling merrily in amusement. "Emma . . ." he began, but she placed a finger on his lips. "Oh no, you had your fun in the library, now it's my turn. Do try to stay still." In response he sucked her finger within his mouth before she could move it away, but he held his place before her. He couldn't take his eyes off of her as she reached up to push the shirt off his shoulders and slide it off his arms before it was tossed casually across a pale rose colored fainting couch in front of one of the huge windows. She licked her lips as his chest was exposed. She had seen him before without his shirt when he was at the pool or playing basketball with the boys, but then she'd had to admire from afar while acting unconcerned. Now, she thought with a wicked thrill, I can afford to indulge myself. She placed her palms against the flat muscles of his stomach and slid them up his chest, running her fingers through his crisp chest hair as she did so. Tracing the muscles of his chest, she lightly circled each of his flat male nipples, feeling them harden under his fingertips. Leaning forward she brushed her own breasts against the expanse of his chest as she delicately licked one nipple and then the other. At the touch of her tongue, she felt his hands tighten on her shoulders. She pulled back again and, shrugging her shoulders to release his hold, ducked under his arm to skirt around to his back. She smiled in appreciation. His shoulders were broad, the muscles hard beneath her hands. Leaning forward again she pressed against the cool skin of his back. She lightly traced the smooth skin of his shoulders and down one jagged starburst scar on his left shoulder blade that could only have been caused by a bullet wound. "Interpol?" she asked lightly, disturbed by the feelings of outrage that hit her at the thought of anyone hurting Sean. "New York cop days," he answered with a small sigh. She again traced the wicked looking scar with a light finger. "Does it hurt you?" "No," the pent up desire making his voice rough, "tis' only a bit stiff now 'n again." A pause, "Good. I'd hate to have to take it easy on you." She could hear the laughter in his voice, "Do ye worst." She smiled with anticipation. He heard her drop to her knees behind him and, lifting each of his feet, slipped off his shoes and socks. His eyes closed tight, he concentrated on the light caresses she placed upon his body. She had asked him to hold still but he didn't know how much longer he could keep from touching her back, especially when she ran her hands from his bare feet up the rigid muscles of his calves and thighs. He jumped when he felt her arms snake around from behind him where her body was pressed tight against his back. He glanced down in time to watch her nimble fingers undo his belt and the top button to his jeans. The sight of those slim fingers stirred the doubts again. He caught her wrists, holding them still. His body ached with the desire she had unleashed within him, but the doubts held him, whispered in the dark recesses of his mind. She was a telepath, but more than that, Emma could use her psionics to control, and if there was one thing Sean did not feel right now, it was in control. She could feel the indecision, knew he was again wrestling with his own demons. So she said the only thing she could think of that would ease his fears. "Your choice, Sean, your decision." She gently pulled her hands free from his grasp but didn't step away from where her body was pressed again his back. She traced idle patterns on his flat stomach, following the line of hair that ended at the top button of his jeans. "I want you, Sean, but I want a lover, not a toy. If I wanted a toy, I could have you on your knees in front of me, but that wouldn't be you. And I want you." She wanted him. A dark voice in his head asked how long had it been since Moira had wanted him? He couldn't remember anymore. The doubt suddenly turned to anger; anger at himself and anger at Moira and he made his decision. Catching one slender hand he spun around within her grasp until they were face to face. Bending down, he kissed her, no longer holding back but with a dark passion that left them both gasping when the kiss was finally broken. He bent his head for another kiss, capturing her mouth and demanding entrance with his tongue. He was vaguely aware of her hands roaming his chest and sides but the sound of his zipper being undone caused him to pull back until he could see her face. She was standing with her face upturned, her lips swollen and pink from his kisses, her eyes closed with a faint smile hovered over her lips. She opened her eyes to look up at him as she slid his jeans down past his hips. He gasped involuntarily as she forced his jeans down past his erection, freeing him from the confines of the stiff material. Very slowly she knelt in front of him and helped push his jeans down his legs and then carefully off each foot until he stood there with just his boxers on, tented at the moment with his need. Desire shot through him as she grinned up at him and wet her lips with a quick dart of her tongue. Her body was strumming so badly she wondered that she didn't vibrate to the touch. As she looked up at his body all that came to mind was that he was magnificent . . . and all hers. She caught his eyes and held them for the briefest of moments, reading in them, without the aid of telepathy, the want and need and desire hidden there. She reached up to his boxers, running one fingertip along the thick bulge within the material. She felt Sean jerk under her light touch. Very nice. She looked up at him again, feeling the tension radiating off him, his muscles locked together. Reaching forward, she slipped her fingers into the waistband of his boxers and lowered them to his feet. She took a deep shuddering breath and reached out to wrap her fingers around his erection, lightly running her thumb over the silken head. He was hot to her touch, the skin velvety soft, but where the velvet ended the steel began. His whole body shuddered when she delicately ran a manicured nail up the bottom of his shaft. Heard himself moan as she gently squeezed him. He choked out "Em . . ." before he lost all rational thought as her lips closed about him. He couldn't think, couldn't see, couldn't talk, all he could do was feel and right now all of his feeling was concentrated in one very specific spot and what Emma Frost was doing to him. She heard him moan out her name in a voice that was almost pain, but she knew that it wasn't pain that made his voice so ragged. Each new sound that she pulled from him with her lips and tongue and fingers sent an answering thrill through her own body. She felt his hands move to tangle and knot in her hair. Sean was breathing heavily above her, almost gasping to get his breath back. She could tell that he was quickly approaching the edge. "Em . . Emma, please . . . stop. Damn woman, . . . let me at least catch me breath." She let him pull her to her feet and maneuver around until she had her back to the bed. Breathing a little easier, he gave a mock leer while she laughed. "Now lass, I believe it's to be my turn." He pushed her back until she sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward he braced his hands on either side of her hips and kissed her. He kept leaning until she was laying beneath him on the bed, her legs bent down over the edge of the bed. Continuing to rain kisses down her bared throat and collarbone, he reached the valley between her breasts. Bracing his legs against the bed, he reached up to one breast, her skin soft and silky beneath his hands. She shifted beneath him, her back arching up as he ran his thumbs over her rock hard nipples. Bending down he took her right nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the tip. She cried out at the contact, twisting beneath him. With one hand supporting his weight above her, he moved his other to her left nipple, gently rolling it between thumb and forefinger, occasionally circling it with one finger to match his tongue's movement on the other. She gave a small inarticulate sound of protest as he withdrew from her. He stroked her side lightly, "Easy lass, I'll be wantin' to do this right by ye," he murmured softly before he shifted his weight and took the other upthrust breast into his mouth. Her mind whirled and her body arching and twisting beneath his warm mouth and tongue no longer seemed to be under her control. She ran her nails up his arms and shoulders into his hair to tangle there. She heard him chuckle as she tried to pull him even closer to her straining body but he was having one of it as he moved down her body, licking and planting small kisses across her chest and stomach. She felt him shift his weight again and splay his hands across her chest and draw them downwards, the caress slow and sensual until his fingers were spread over her silk panties. She lifted her hips slightly in silent invitation. The invitation was accepted. As he pulled the last barrier from her body, he feasted his eyes upon her. He felt quite like a starving man brought before a feast. He ran his fingers lightly up the sides of her thighs and then back down to her feet. He raised one slim foot and planted a kiss on her arch, feeling her jerk slightly with the contact. "Ahh, yer ticklish. Now there's a wee bit o' information to file away for later," he said with a grin. "Now, scoot back on the bed and flip over for me." "Sean?" He leaned back over her to plant a kiss on her flat stomach, looking up at her through his lashes, "Trust me." Shaking her head, she pulled herself fully onto the bed and turned over, pillowing her head in her arms. He knew she was wondering what he was doing, but he felt that he needed to take this slow, not only for her but for him as well. It had been a long time since he had made love to a woman, and he realized that he wanted to make sure Emma did not regret this in the morning. She felt the bed tilt with his weight as he climbed up on top of the bed with her. She shivered as he ran one finger lightly up from her foot, up the back of her leg, across her butt and between her shoulder blades. He straddled her, his weight settled down across her thighs, his hot shaft resting on the swell of her buttocks. She was unable to hold back her sigh of pleasure when she felt his hands begin to massage her shoulders. She lost herself in his skill as he worked the muscles, sinking his fingers into the tight spots. His hands were warm on her back, relaxing her and quieting the small voice in the back of her head that said he was like all the others; that he only saw her body and the clothes or her usefulness or the possibilities of her mutant power. Beneath his hands that voice faded away, for this gentle slow seduction spoke of something else entirely. She knew that he really trusted her or he wouldn't be here now, working this magic. She realized in that moment that she wanted to be worthy of that trust, that god help her, she wanted to be the kind of woman that Sean Cassidy, X-Man, do-gooder, and all around hero, would make love to. Sean could feel the tension draining out of her body and increasing in his. He couldn't keep this up much longer. The taut body under him, the smooth skin beneath his hands, the way she sighed when he hit a particularly sensitive spot, all these things were driving him beyond his careful control. He bent down and placed a kiss on the nape of her neck. She arched up beneath him in response. Continuing his slow massage, he continued to plant kisses down her spine, pausing every so often to take a gentle nip or flick out a tongue to taste the satin of her skin. Working his way down her body he bit gently on one firm cheek while stoking down her side. He rose up and shifted his body down to kneel at her feet while he massaged down one shapely leg and then back up to start on the other. He could feel her trembling now with each caress, the trembles growing stronger when he planted a kiss in the hollow behind one knee. But then, Sean thought with some amusement, I didn'a think I'm all that steady here myself. Traced one delicate instep he said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Turn for me now, Emma." If she had thought she was going to scream from the tension in the library, it was nothing to the maelstrom of emotions that swirled in her now at that gentle command. She turned over to stare into burning eyes that momentarily took her breath away. She opened her mouth to say something, anything but no sound came out. She was transfixed by that fire and could do nothing as she watched him lift a slim foot up and place a tender kiss on the inside of her ankle, then another a few inches higher. "BBBBRRRRRZZZZZZZZZZZ." Thump! Sean Cassidy jerked upright in his bed, instincts taking over before events registered in his sleep fogged mind. The piercing tones of the alarm clock cut off as it hit the far wall. Sean heaved a sigh of frustration as he sank back down onto his bed. Damn that dream, he thought. It was beginning to haunt him and every night it changed, moving further along in the sequence, his body's twitching arousal mute testament to how far the dream had gone this time. He could remember when the dream had first began and he had walked the patrol and not even met Emma in the library. He lived in fear that her telepathic abilities would pick up on his erotic thoughts or worse yet, the dream itself. He blushed at that thought, for he had a very strong feeling that Emma Frost would rip his lungs out if she ever knew what he dreamed at night. Sighing, he pulled himself out of bed. It was time to start the day. The kids would be up soon and be demanding breakfast and, if he wasn't there to supervise, he was afraid that Jubilee would start a food fight again. "Good Morning Boston! It is 7:45. Today's temperature will be a sunny 78 degrees and the skies will be cloud free through Wednesday." Emma Frost stifled a shrill scream of frustration as she turned off the radio clock. She sat up and tried to untangle herself from her sheets. Finally getting the sheets unwound from her legs, she lay back down on the bed trying to calm her racing heart. Her body was taut with the unrelieved sexual tension that the dream had caused. She blushed at the memory of Sean's eyes as he looked at her. Just the memory of that look sent a shiver down her spine. She wondered how she was going to face him over breakfast and still remain cool. She had a strong feeling that Sean Cassidy wouldn't be very happy if he knew what she dreamed about at night. Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed. It was time to start the day. The kids would be up soon and be demanding breakfast and, if she wasn't there to supervise, she was afraid that Jubilee would start a food fight again.