Black Roses

Author: Xantissa

Disclaimer: X-men belong to marvel, Dominique and Michael are MINE!!!!!

Feedback: yes please, xantissa@wp.pl

Rating: NC-17 M/M (and what did you expect?!)

Archive: Lu Bradley can have everything, others just let me know.

Pairing: Logan/Remy Remy/OFC/OMC

Warnings: Angst. Sex. Threesome.

Series: sequel to "When the madness stops"

Summary: Logan comes back from his month long absence willing to make things work with Remy but one can't hurt the Cajun and go unpunished.

Author notes: I know it lacks the climate of the previous story but I couldn't seem to get in the right mood. Dominique and Michael are my favorite character. I wrote actually two stories about them – very loooong ones. To explain why Remy feels the special aura around the pair. Michael was an assassin that was trapped in other world for over 200 years and when he returned to our world he became Interpol agent. Dominique is the love of his life – an assassin also. She possesses some special shaman skills. Just to warn you. They may occur in my other stories. I just love to play with them.

Thanks to: You guys on the Logan_Remy yahoo for sending me so many beautiful feedbacks and to LS for putting up with my mistakes. You are a wonderful beta!


Black Roses
By Xantissa

Watched.

He was being watched. Two sets of eyes that studied his each and every move.

Remy slowly turned his head so that he caught sight of Logan sitting in the darkest corner of the pub. His hat low over his eyes, legs stretched out on a nearby chair and arms folded, exposing muscles bulging through the thin, white tee and faded jeans nicely showing off the strength of his thighs. His whole body language seemed to say: Come At Your Own Risk. And others in the bar seemed to catch the clue for no one had approached him during the last two hours.

Remy did his best to ignore the man. That fucking bastard returned to the mansion after a month and expected Remy to welcome him with open arms. So he got a surprise.

Ever since that hairy dog came back, Remy hadn't uttered a word to him, nor spared him a second glance. He treated him like a piece of trash – ignored.

There were no friendly conversations, no smoking late at night… not even any fights. Leaving like that, Logan hurt him. Hurt him more than Remy was willing to admit. He'd raged, cursed and sulked for weeks, making living near him hell, but decided that he would rather die than show the arrogant son of a bitch how deep he hurt. So when the mighty Wolverine came back, grumbling and growling at everyone, he made sure to be colder than ice to him. He didn't even bother to greet him and when Logan knocked at his door that night, he laughed him straight in the face and shut the door.

Ever since that incident, Logan stopped trying to talk to him. He only watched. Silently, from a distance, never interfering… only observing, making no effort to hide it from him. Remy knew he was being followed but refused to speak to Logan, even if it would get the older man off his back. However, it would demand that he acknowledged that Logan "existed" at all. And he wasn't ready for that yet.

So he moved his head a little to catch the other pair of eyes. She sat at the table in the corner. Long, rich hair of golden brown fell in waves down her shoulders framing her face in soft silk. She was very attractive, but not beautiful in the way Jean or Ororo were. She lacked their perfect features. Still she would probably be called beautiful if it wasn't for her eyes. Deep pools of liquid gold, the brightest brown he'd ever seen… were sharp as daggers. With just one look at her, he knew she was deadly. Her eyes were fixed on him, focused yet cold. He was surprised to see so much sensuality in a person that had an aura of inapproachability and cold challenge. She sat in her chair relaxed, dressed in the most fitting pants he'd ever seen and a tight, black blouse with deep cleavage and although her gaze never strayed from him, she seemed to challenge everyone not to disturb her.

Remy did not want to notice just how similar she was to Logan.

Still feeling Logan's eyes on him, he decided to give him an eyeful. He still remembered that strange night when he allowed himself to be carried away, to trust that man with his body and his honor.

He still remembered betrayal.

Remy turned so that the woman knew he was watching her openly. He still had his shades on, not wanting to provoke any anti-mutant reaction, but it didn't matter.

She titled her head, her sharp eyes roaming slowly, sensually over his body, measuring him, challenging… establishing her power. Even if he left with her, even if he made love to her… it will not be him, who would do the taking. It would be her.

Such a cold, dangerous stare promised both pleasure and pain. It was up to him, to choose what he wanted.

He tried to determine her age and couldn't. She could be anywhere between 18 or 28 years old. Her sharp cheekbones and unmoving stare made her ageless and so very… sexy. It was the right description for her. She seemed sex personified and suddenly Remy realized that it was her source of power. Most men would probably lose their mind around her, thinking with their smaller heads instead of their bigger ones.

They maintained eye contact for a long while, waiting to see who would cave in first however they were evenly matched.

The woman reached for her drink, fifth this evening, and sipped it slowly, giving him a small smile of appreciation. There weren't many who would be able to stand her gaze for so long.

Although she drank quite a lot, she didn't seem affected in the least. Her movements were graceful, fluid and controlled. Remy felt a wave of heat travel down his body at the very thought of such power and control in bed.

Tentatively he reached out with his empathy a little, just to read her intentions. Was she merely playing with him or was she interested. What he reached was neither a human nor a mutant mind. It was a dark, dangerous shade that spoke of warning. Immediately he backed off realizing that she must have had some strange mental powers or at least defenses. He was left with a cold feeling on the edges of his mind and he didn't want to think about a possible reaction if he tried to breach her defenses.

He watched her closely for a reaction, but none came, which led him to believe that she may be unaware of her defenses. Finally, taking his chance, he got up from the stool and headed towards her.

Slowly, in a fluid movement he slid into the chair opposite her and looked her straight in the eyes once more. Of course she wasn't able to see his eyes hidden behind dark glasses. However, she wasn't affected by it and her gaze didn't waver even for a moment.

She cocked her head a little and regarded him slowly taking in the black dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top and the duster obscuring most of his body. However she was able to see his lithe frame and the cat like grace of his movements.

She watched him calmly as he took a cigarette from a small, golden cigarette-box. Long, lean fingers keeping it lightly when his other hand reached into a pocket to fish out a lighter.

Click.

Some of his auburn hair that had slipped out of his ponytail fell to the front of his face when he bent his neck to light the cigarette, the auburn color changing into red when fire highlighted the loose bangs.

Click.

The lighter was closed and in one elegant movement, hidden inside his pocket. She couldn't not admire the gracefulness of his movements, like a cat on the hunt.

"Remy Lebeau at your service, Chere," he said in voice thick with accent and as low as purr. "And what is your name?"

There was a long silence while she obviously pondered his question.

"Dominique," she answered slowly, "I was wondering if you had the nerve to approach me. No one else did."

He shot a smile at her.

"Remy a gambler, Chere. He likes de risk."

Her lips curved a little in imitation of a smile that never reached her eyes. None of the previous had. Her golden eyes always remained sharp and focused.

"Are you?"

With that she reached for his shades and lowered them a little, enough for her to see his eyes, but still leave them hidden to others.

There was absolutely no reaction to his red on black eyes on her side and it unnerved him a little. After all, people were always uncomfortable looking him straight in his "demon" eyes.

"You have beautiful eyes," suddenly he caught a flicker of something in her eyes… longing? Sentiment? Whatever it was, it was quickly hidden.

"Why watch Remy?" he asked softly, never breaking her stare.

"I find you attractive… Remy," her voice, the way she spoke, gave his name a new, strange edge.

It was his turn to cock his head and wait for her to continue.

"Do yo' have somet'ing `gainst men?" she asked suddenly.

Remy allowed one corner of his mouth to curve in a small, satisfied smile. Finally, he knew what was happening.

"Non, as long as dey don't try ta hurt Remy, everyt'ing is okay."

She smiled at him again.

"Will you give into me for this night?"

"Why?"

She looked away from him, her eyes fixing on Logan. In that moment Remy was sure she knew the older man was watching them.

"My… lover has a birthday tonight. I want to give you to him as a present. Will you agree?"

After her previous question he really wasn't surprised at hearing the words. He followed her gaze to Logan, perfectly aware that the man was hearing every single word they said, he smiled dangerously.

"Oui, Remy be your present t'night."

He had a sense of satisfaction seeing how Logan tensed after his response. And was aware that Dominique also noticed it.

"Will your friend cause trouble?"

"Remy don't t'ink so. He like a dog, jus follow Remy `round."

If Dominique was surprised at his harsh words, she didn't let it show. She reached for some money and left it on the table.

"Shall we go?"

"Vraiment."

* * *

Logan stood outside the elegant house, hidden in the shade of a big tree and watched, just like he'd been doing for the past few weeks.

Something inside him cried out for him to go there, fetch Remy and drag him back home, but he understood he lost that right when he left. Remy couldn't be more clear in expressing the fact that he despised Logan.

He never looked at him, never spoke to him… and it hurt. Logan was surprised how much. He never expected to miss him so much. He never expected to miss such simple things like the smile Remy gave him as a welcome, the friendly nattering… or those countless times when they smoked quietly on the porch. Moments without words… just companionship.

Logan wasn't a patient man and would probably have given up long ago if it wasn't for the sad scent that always came from the Cajun these days. His behavior came from hurt not obliviousness.

He knew he had to apologize, to make things right between them again, but… he didn't know how. He was a Wolverine and he acted on instinct. Give him an enemy to fight and he would get rid of him in seconds… give him an emotional problem to solve and he's lost.

Still it hurt just so fucking much to see Remy go into that fancy house with that woman. He knew what would happen. He overheard each and every word of their conversation and heard the crude remark the Cajun made.

Normally he would have beaten the crap out of anybody who dared to speak of him like that but… couldn't because somewhere deep inside he knew he deserved it.

* * *

Remy watched Dominique put some sensual music in the stereo. She moved gracefully with that special awareness of her body that characterized a woman used to using sex as a means of defense.

"Would you like a drink?" she cast him a sidelong glance and he actually felt like prey. A very willing one, too.

"Non."

She shrugged and poured herself a strange looking alcohol. Then she started walking towards him, slowly, sipping her drink with her eyes fixed on him.

"You seem ta drink a lot," he remarked casually. He didn't want her to be drunk.

She grinned at him, but he found a hint of sadness in her eyes just before she hid it again.

"Alcohol doesn't affect me much," and he had to agree with that because he'd seen her drink about seven glasses and she was still dead sober. "Nothing seems to affect me… much," she added after a moment and Remy was sure it wasn't meant for him to hear.

"So…," he asked to cheer up the mood, "what will you do to Remy while waitin' fo' yo' man?" He purposefully allowed his accent to thicken. She looked him straight into his red on black eyes, unflinching and put the empty glass aside. Her fingers bearing long, painted red fingernails lingered sensually on the edges of the glass and she closed her eyes, swaying her hips slowly to the music.

"Dance with me?" she murmured softly.

Remy answered with a smile and took her into his arms. It was a long time since he danced with a woman… Before he knew, they were kissing softly, her slender fingers tangling into his hair and tongue playing with him, but she kept the pace slow. Obviously she didn't want to start anything before her lover came home.

Finally they stopped. Remy still stroked her spine under the thin blouse and asked:

"So what are yo' doing for de living?"

"I am on early retirement."

"Jus like Remy… but what?" he insisted.

She smiled at him that sad, careful smile and answered:

"Kill people," she said it in the tone one would use to ask for salt. "And you?"

Well two can play this game.

"Steal."

She gave him a true smile this time.

"So you must have talented fingers… thief."

Remy only gave her a grin.

She didn't seem to notice that while they were dancing, Remy moved her closer to the glass wall, perfectly aware of Logan standing outside and watching. He wanted the man to see everything. To see what Remy would do, give these people, what Logan will never have from him.

Suddenly she leaned closer and whispered into his ear.

"Do you really want him to watch? To see… everything?"

He looked her straight in the eye, trying to gauge her reaction and finding only amusement and hint of mischief he nodded.

"Oui, Remy want de homme ta see everything."

She nodded in silent agreement.

"So, Remy… you haven't answered me. Will you submit to me for the night? Will you… yield?"

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.

"Oui."

She smiled at him with approval and moved away from his arms. He barely caught a dangerous glint in her eyes when he was startled by another voice, male this time.

"Take your shirt off."

Remy spun around, shocked that he hadn't heard the man enter the room. The voice sent shivers down his spine. Calm, controlled and so… cold.

He looked at the stranger leaning on the doorframe. He was tall, even taller than he, with light blond curly hair, somewhat hiding his face. He had grey eyes that didn't betray a single emotion and a lithe, hard body.

Remy knew that both of them were human, but he also sensed power emanating from the pair.

He met the gray gaze, calmly forcing him to obey and found himself unable to refuse. There was something so incredibly dark and dangerous in the stranger, that he had to lick his dry lips and then started slowly unbuttoning his black, dress shirt.

He knew what was asked of him and he decided to give them a show.

Button by button, he opened it.

His movements slow and deliberate he peeled the shirt from his shoulders, exposing the tanned, soft skin, hairless and well defined muscles of his chest. He loved to be the center of attention and now, feeling three sets of eyes on him, he lost himself to the passion that was always a part of him. He knew that for this night, this dangerous pair would make him forget about anything except passion.

When he was bare-chested he stopped and looked at the pair. Dominique was standing close to her lover, one of her hands unbuttoning his shirt while still watching Remy.

"I want to watch him take you," she said softly and Remy nodded. He had nothing against that.

With a smile she approached him and claimed his lips in a fierce kiss, so different from the previous ones that it made Remy breathless. This time she wasn't distancing herself, but gave all of herself into the kiss. Her arms embraced him and her nails dug into his shoulder blades making him hiss and grip her hair hard, to peal her away from him.

She smiled at him, licking her lips, a predatory look in her eyes. She wasn't that controlled, calm woman from the bar. She was completely lost in passion right now.

Her whole body was pressed against his, firm breasts tempted him to just rip the blouse away and suck them till she screamed. She seemed to read his mind because she smiled wider and rocked her body, rubbing herself on him. She purred feeling his hard erection press into her belly and moved her hands from his shoulder to his collarbones and in one, sharp movement scratched her long fingernails down his chest to his waist, making him hiss and curse.

"Merde!"

He wanted to reach for her hands and stop her, but suddenly he found his wrists restrained by strong, callused hands and heard a low chuckle. A warm breath on his ear made him shiver.

"Sharp, isn't she?" asked the man before licking the side of his neck from shoulder to ear in one, wet lick.

"Ah…" he hissed once more as her hands reached into his now very tight pants and she traced her nails over his straining erection. "Oui," he managed breathlessly.

"I think I overlooked something," stated the woman with hidden laughter in her voice. She quickly opened his pants and closed her hand over his erection, stroking him fast and hard, causing him to buck into her grip.

"This is Michael Woolf," she introduced her lover casually, as if she wasn't fisting another man's cock right now, "and this is Remy LeBeau."

"Pleasure to… ah!" he arched when her thumb found the already weeping slit and teased it. "Meet you," he panted.

Only now did Remy realize that he would probably be very well and thoroughly fucked tonight.

" Hmm…" murmured Michael, letting go of the earlobe he was tormenting, "a well-mannered one."

Remy wanted to say something witty, but when he opened his mouth he felt the man's teeth bite hard into his neck, almost drawing blood. He whimpered. Pain, pleasure mixed together like oil and water was quickly undoing him.

He understood that Michael would be far from gentle with him and it aroused him even more.

"S'il vous plait! Please…"

"What?" purred Dominique, letting go of his straining member to tease his nipples instead.

"Hands… let Remy's hands go…" he panted, desperately wanting to touch either of them, to do something.

Suddenly Dominique stepped back and he found himself whirled around so that he was facing the man. Grey eyes burning with cold fire stared right into his soul making him shiver.

He noticed the hard, muscled chest, covered with soft, curly hair and scars. Many scars. Some old, some still pink. Little, rounded ones obviously from bullets, some long, thin and narrow – from knives, a testimony of his dangerous life.

They didn't kiss each other, they fought each other with tongues dueling, teeth and lips clenching, sucking and growling. How he missed it! Hard, hot passionate sex without any regret.

He was so focused on Michael that he barely registered the hands that pushed his pants down his hips and helped him take off his socks. Nor did he notice the same treatment of his new lover. He realized they both were naked when their erections brushed. They both moaned at the exquisite feeling and quickly found a suitable rhythm of rocking, kissing and nipping at any available skin.

Remy felt as if in a fever. His whole word narrowed to the man scratching and roughly caressing his body.

"Take him against the window," came the soft order from the woman and Remy broke the kiss to look at her.

Dominique was sitting in an armchair, nursing another drink and watching them with shining eyes. She looked incredibly beautiful right then, a picture of sensuality and decadence.


Before Remy had even a chance to answer he was shoved hard on the glass wall, managing to stop himself from crashing into it at the last moment.

"I hope you like it hard, because I have no intention of being gentle with you," growled Michael into his ear and he felt his wrists being captured once again and pressed forcefully to the glass above his head.

"Don't move," came the order and soon he felt his wrists being tied tightly together with something soft and resistant. He looked up to see a red, silk scarf binding them.

All he could do was moan in need when his feet were kicked apart, it reminded him vaguely of policemen.

"Oui…" he whispered breathlessly. "Do it. T'encule-moi… fuck me," he demanded, rocking his ass back to press it into the hard cock he felt behind.

Remy more felt than heard the low chuckle and then saw Dominique approach again, this time with something in her hands: A jar of transparent gel and a condom.

She opened the jar and put it on the small table beside them, and then she opened the condom and slowly rolled it on Michael's erection, kissing him and then Remy before leaving again to sit in her chair and watch.

Remy already trembled when he felt one slick, cool finger tease his puckered hole. His hands were bound and pressed tightly to the glass wall, his feet so wide apart that he was afraid that without the man he wouldn't be able to remain upright, his cock agonizingly hard and he felt as if he would burst from need.

He tensed when Michael pressed one slick finger inside. It didn't hurt yet but it was a long time since he'd been on the receiving end.

"Don't move," Michael repeated his order and then left his wrists to grip his erection and stroke him in time with the thrusts of his finger inside his anus.

Remy tried to breathe deep to relax his body. He hung his head, letting his hair fall over his face and moaned loudly when another slick finger entered him, this time there was stretch and pressure.

He wasn't given much time to get used to the invasion before he felt the third finger enter him. He arched his body in pain/pleasure and opened his eyes staring into darkness outside.

His mutant eyes allowed him to distinguish a shade among shades. He knew where Logan was standing, right in front of him, under a big tree.

/Are you watching Logan?/ He thought while his hips rocked into the three fingers stretching him, preparing for something much bigger. / Do you know what he is doing? I bet you do./ He arched his back when Michael crooked his fingers and hit that special spot inside of him.

Again he focused his eyes on the darkness outside. /Watch Logan. Watch as he takes me, because you will never be allowed to do this./

His train of thought was broken when he screamed as Michael breached him in one, hard movement, burying his large cock balls deep inside him, hitting his prostate from the first thrust.

Remy cried out and hung his head trying desperately to catch his breath. Michael caught his hips in a death grip and started thrusting so hard and deep Remy saw stars in front of his eyes. Every single move touched his prostate and he was nearing his peak so fast it almost hurt. When Michael gripped his member and stroked it, it was too much and with a loud scream Remy came. His muscles clenched savagely around his lover milking his orgasm from him as well.

They both stilled, trying to catch their breath. Remy leaned on the wall with all his weight and felt Michael on his back. Both were covered in sweat and panting.

It took Remy a few more minutes to realize that the cock inside him was still very much hard and seemed even bigger in his abused passage.

He made a questioning noise, not sure what to do now.

"It is one of tricks," he heard Dominique speak, "Michael can come many times and not go soft because he is not releasing his seed. He is not finished yet."

Remy wasn't sure if he wanted to continue or escape, but before he had the time to answer he was pulled to the soft carpet below and found himself sitting, his back to Michael, on his lap, still impaled on the other man's cock.

Lost in passion, his body still boneless from his release, he threw his head back so that it rested on Michael's shoulders and allowed him to do what he pleased.

He felt a finger slide along his widely stretched hole and whimpered.

"Hush," came the calm demand and suddenly he felt strong hands on his hips once again, urging him to move. "Fuck yourself on me."

He whimpered, his passage already abused from the previous pounding but he complied, lifting his hips and impaling himself on the straining erection.

He was completely lost, his mind a blur of pain, pleasure…hands touching him everywhere… His whole body tingled and all his focus was on that single place, where he felt the huge cock push in and out, tormenting his prostate with every single move. It was too soon for him to become hard again and arousing him further hurt, but Dieu, did it hurt good.

He complexly lost sense of time, surroundings… everything only that movement in and out, the heat of the body pressed tightly to his back and teeth biting his neck none too gently. When he was sure he wouldn't be able to come the second time, he suddenly felt a warm breath on his hardening member. He opened his glazed eyes only to see golden eyes smiling at him with sensual promise and then he felt Dominique take him into her mouth. Her skilled tongue danced around the overly sensitive organ causing as much pain as pleasure.

Unable to speak or think even, he mewled in pain/pleasure completely lost inside his mind. His body moved on its own accord, his hands strained at the bonds and muscles tensed when he came with an agonized shout and his eyes rolled back. He rode the hard, deep thrust while his body tensed and quivered in orgasm, muscles squeezing Michael so hard that he wasn't able to stand it any longer and surrendered to his own release, collapsing on the soft carpet.

It was too much for Remy and he slipped into unconsciousness, hands still bound and the softening member of his lover still deep inside his passage, oblivious to his surroundings.

* * *

He moved with incredible swiftness for a man with an adamantium skeleton sometimes. Maybe it was because of the fact that Remy hadn't woken up when he entered his room, or maybe he was just too tired after spending the night with that pair… all in all Logan found himself standing in the dark, silent room of the thief, listening to his even breathing and watching his face as he slept.

The kid was lying on his stomach, one arm under the pillow and the other hanging down from the bed, nearly touching the carpet.

Logan felt a surprisingly painful tightening in his chest seeing the bruises forming on his wrists where that other man had held him tight. On his shoulders and neck were various bite marks and his lips were still swollen and looked tender from all the kisses.

The images of Remy pressed to the glass wall, his demon eyes open and staring at him, while the other man took him hard, his hands bound and pressed to the glass, legs spread… the way his head had been thrown back, resting on the stranger's shoulder as he opened his lips to scream his pleasure. He could almost hear it. His moans, panting and the maddening sound of flesh hitting flesh…

And the way he became boneless after the orgasm tore through him and the surprise on his face when he realized that his lover was far from finished. Logan was both incredibly aroused by the scene unfolding just a few yards from him and nearly feral with anger. He desperately wished he could tear that man from Remy and claim him for himself. The very thought that he may never have a chance caused his soul to freeze.

"Remy…" he whispered, not aware that the name left his lips.

He crouched beside the bed, so close to the sleeping figure, yet miles away from him at the same time, and devoured him with his eyes. He understood what Remy wanted to achieve, making sure Logan saw everything. He wanted to show Logan what he lost, what he'd so mindlessly thrown away.

Slowly he reached his hand to touch the Cajun's face. Sharp cheekbones and soft, smooth cheeks… long, silky strands of auburn hair that begged to be caressed… He stopped short from touching him, realizing that he would wake him. And he had enough of his cold stare full of despite.

He was grateful that Remy had obviously taken a shower before going to bed. He was relieved because he was afraid that he would completely loose his mind and turn feral should he smell sex on him.

Right now, in his sleep, Remy looked gentle and soft like he did that night three months ago. His features were relaxed, body soft and pliant. Gone was the tension and wariness.

"I am so sorry, Remy…" Logan whispered quietly, desperately wishing that he could tell those words to Remy while he was awake. "So sorry for hurting you. I never wanted it to happen," he never noticed his voice began to shake. "I was just so… confused by my feelings for you. You know me. I needed the time to figure things out. Forgive me for not realizing that my departure would hurt you, Remy…"

Finally the words stopped. Logan was left with the feeling of an incredible heaviness inside his chest. How could a lost chance hurt so much? How? He closed his eyes, desperately wishing he could touch the Cajun, hold him.

Long ago he realized that it wasn't about sex. He needed Remy for all the other reasons. The companionship, understanding… laughter… not just desire.

Finally he stood up and looked at the thief one more time. God, he was beautiful. Even now, his body ravished and used, bearing the clear marks of passion given him by strangers, he was the only thing Logan wanted.

Finally, he turned away and left the room as silently as he'd arrived, pushed by the need to run before he did something that would make matters even worse. He lost Remy's trust and now had to work hard to earn it again. And he wasn't sure he would ever be given the chance.

He was so lost in thought, so intent on leaving right away that he never noticed the red on black eyes open and stare at his retreating back.

Remy wasn't asleep when Logan came in and heard everything he'd said. Now he watched him leave and closed his eyes again, letting a few tears slip from his closed eyelids before forcing himself to fall asleep again.


TBC in "Turn Around" the last in the series.