Dedicated to the lovely 'Cune for inspiring me to write this.

Also, this might be a little too much foe some folks. As much as I love smut (which I do!), it's a little kinkier than normal. You have been warned ;-)

Bound

Rogue tried to stile a groan. Her head was pounding a little. Oh how her head hurt Oh, she felt hung over.

Almost instantly, Rogue realized that she hadn't been drinking. She also realized that it was the middle of the afternoon. The same instant the realization hit her, her head began to clear and her eyes tried to shoot open.

What had she been doing? The last thing she could recall was sitting in that coffee shop with Gambit, waiting for her coffee. When their drinks were ready, he had gotten up, retrieved them, and brought them to their table.

When she realized she couldn't open her eyes, her stomach dropped and adrenalin shot through her veins. When she realized she couldn't move either, her heartbeat picked up and she felt nervousness tingle within her fingertips.

Had someone slipped something into her coffee? Who would do that to her? Magneto? Someone worse?

Avoiding the natural response to panic, Rogue had to force herself to take a deep breath and take in what she could about her surroundings. Had she been a normal person, had she been anyone else, she'd be terrified, but she was an X-Men, and she was trained for situations such as this. Well, not quite situations as bad as this one.

She forced herself to stay calm and think through what was going on. She couldn't open her eyes, but everything beyond her eyelids seemed dark. Also, she could feel something soft over her eyes and on the sides of her face; she was clearly blindfolded.

She was lying down on her stomach, her cheek flat against something hard, flat, and cool. Mentally she listed options of what it could be: counter top, table, desk. She tugged at her hands and her guess of a table was reaffirmed. The table must have been relatively thin because her arms were hanging down off the sides, towards the floor. As she tugged at her arms again, she realized she was bound at the wrists to the table legs. She was bent at the waist, only her top half rest on the supposed table, and she tried to move her legs, but they were bound as well. She could feel restraints of some sort (ropes? cuffs?) holding her legs down at the ankles.

She forced herself to swallow a lump of panic as she realized one other thing in the same moment she figured out her ankles were bound. She tried to stay calm as she realized her feet were flat on the floor. Nervousness swept over her as she registered that her bare feet were on the floor. Last thing she remembered, she had had shoes and socks on. She felt fear start to seep its way into her mind and she took another deep shaky breath.

She heard a distinct click and she strained to let her ears do what her eyes currently couldn't. She tried to focus and she could have sworn the noise she heard sounded like a door, but she couldn't hear any footfalls. As the (supposed) door opened and/or closed, a cold breeze quickly rushed through the place were she was held. Rogue quickly became painfully aware of one other important fact she had failed to notice before.

She had felt that breeze across her skin; she wasn't wearing any clothes.

Her first instinct was for fear to fuel her veins at the idea of being unclothed. She didn't even want to imagine what her captor had planning, having had her undressed. She quickly thought past the fear, though. Her state of undress could really work in her best interest. As soon as her kidnapper came in contact with her skin, she would not only take them out, but she would know where she was as who had her.

She jumped as she felt something similar to a fingertip run along the length of her spine. At least she tried to jump; her body couldn't move very far. Her mind registered two things at that moment. One: no thoughts of anyone else had entered her mind and two: this meant whoever was in this room with her knew about her mutation. That meant this person knew her.

Adrenalin was still pumping though her veins as she tried to process this new information. She let her trained instincts take over as she mentally listed all the facts she knew.

One: this person knew her, knew about her.

Two: She had been kidnapped, stripped, and blindfolded.

Three: She was bent at the waist, bound at her wrists and ankles.

Four: Whoever was with her, was amazingly silent, and she couldn't hear a thing.

She felt what she assumed was a gloved hand skim over her side and then through her hair. She struggled against her restraints as she felt the same fingertips gently touch her shoulder blade.

Five: She was being touched the way she liked.

As she felt a small tug at her hair, she inhaled deeply. A strong, familiar, masculine scent filled her nostrils and the fear in her quickly turned to burning excitement.

Six: Her on-again/off-again (more like get on top again, get off again) boyfriend had a strange affinity for bondage.

The fuse inside her was lit and she felt a line a fire along her back where those fingertips danced. Despite the fact she knew it was Remy, she didn't open her mouth to voice the fact. She was sure he had intentionally leaned over her, touched her in a familiar way. He did nothing without a purpose, and she was sure he let her know that he was with her, that she shouldn't be worried. That being said, he probably wasn't voicing her name for the same reason she wasn't voicing his: what they were doing was so bad, so naughty, so kinky.

With the fear out of her system, it was just making her hot.

She struggled again and she heard a clinking sound as she tried to pull her wrists free. She realized the sound was metal hitting metal and she assumed she had been handcuffed to the table legs. She couldn't suppress a smile as she noted the cuffs had been lined with something soft.

Her body shuddered against the cool table as she felt one large hand indecently grope her exposed backside. She couldn't help it as she squeezed her thighs together as tightly as possible, trying to find some relief for the growing need between them.

Remy looked over Rogue's naked body excitedly. Her body was near perfect and having her bent over, ready for him, was quite possibly the best idea he'd had. Making her look even hotter was the fact that she couldn't do anything. She was naked and tied up.

He smirked; she was completely at his mercy.

He felt the blood rush straight to his steadily growing erection as his hands slowly ran over every bit of exposed flesh presented before him. He couldn't help but to let a quiet, husky groan escaped from the back of his throat as he licked his lips. It was like he had been starving and now he had finally found the most amazing thing to satisfy his appetite. Actually, the description was strangely accurate.

He felt his breath pick up as his own hand was making its way into his pants. He groaned again; she looked absolutely perfect. He watched as she struggled against the bonds he hand restrained her with. Dieu, he owned her. Right now, she was his. The thought made him giddy.

Rogue's body shuddered again as she felt hands roughly tug at her hair. She could feel the heat from her core spread throughout her body. Remy was making her so hot, and guessing from the way he was manhandling her, she could only hope he was going to be rough with her.

Remy was typically a very giving, but very tender lover. She had no complaints, seeing as her brought her amazingly pleasure every time, but the few times he got rough with her were absolutely mind blowing.

The first time had been about two months ago. It was also the first time she experienced Remy's love of bondage. She had picked up a pair of handcuffs – not the plastic pink sex shop ones; she had gotten real metal legit cuffs. Hey, only authentic ones were appropriate for a thief. She had dangled them from one hand and smirked at her lover, saying she had bought them for him. She thought that mixing the thrill of sex with the joy of picking locks would be the ultimate pleasurable experience for him. Before she had knew what had hit her, though, Remy had tackled her and had her hands cuffed to the headboard and was pounding into her hard enough that her thighs and hips were literally sore for a week. That was also the first time he had forced her over the edge a whopping six times before letting himself go. It had been unbelievably hot and she was shocked that just the idea of having her bound had done that to him. Actually, come to think of it, she really shouldn't have been surprised by the idea of him ambushing her and binding her.

They had played with him binding her one other time as well. He had deciding to forgo the cuffs that time and had literally tied her up. He had rocked her body hard that night as well.

What Rogue didn't know completely that night was Remy's motivation for such an act. Earlier that day in the Danger Room, as a successful session was ending, Rogue had been bending over to dust off her boots. Remy had caught Angel's gaze squarely on her tight rear end. Although the blonde may have just moved into the mansion, Remy was not impressed by the Fly Boy. Rogue had been shocked when Remy had ambushed her in woman's locker room and quickly tore off her clothes. He had gotten her all worked up, to the point of begging, when he wrapped a towel around her and carried her up to his room. He had tied her wrists together and then to his headboard. What he failed to mention to Rogue was that he had purposely tied the rough rope too tightly before he took her much harder than usual. He did all he could to cause bright red rope burns, encircling her wrists the following day. He had smirked, proudly to himself. He mentally challenged Angel to check Rogue out again, now that she was marked. Now that she was his.

Remy and her may have had an on again/off again relationship, but titles meant little to her. She knew Remy better than anyone else, which caused her to know that he was a man of actions and not of words. He might not label her as his 'girlfriend' but she knew how he felt about her. She could tell.

Her thoughts had been reaffirmed in the last few weeks, especially after Warren moved in. She knew Warren had been looking her over recently, and she also figured that that had been why Remy was literally ravaging her after every team DR session. Remy may not have been one for titles, but she didn't need to hear the words. He had been –literally- marking her as his own, and she knew what the actions stood for. She knew so much as she went out of her way to smile at Warren in the halls and laugh at his jokes. Whenever Remy was around (which it seemed like he always was, staring the blonde man down), Rogue would find herself being dragged up to his (or her) bedroom shortly thereafter. You don't lay claim to someone that you have no feelings for.

Remy let his eyes look heatedly, indecently over Rogue's naked form. The stopped to linger on a dark purple bruise on the back of her left shoulder, which caused him to smirk to himself. He remembered that bruise fondly, recalling how hard he had had to bite down on her to make it a lasting one. He had always been a giving lover though, and had made sure to sink his teeth deep into her skin (deep enough to accidently draw blood) at the exact moment she hit her peak, knowing this would cause her to register it only as pleasure.

As he reached out a fingertip to touch that bruise, he heard Rogue make a small whimpery noise and saw her squeeze her thighs together. He smiled wickedly, he was barely touching her and she seemed to be all ready as worked up as he was. Perfect.

He was anxious to see how worked up she really was. The position he had he bound in was idea for foreplay, for touching, for teasing, but he was eager to move on. Normally they spent quite a bit of time on foreplay, but seeing her like this, seeing her bound and bent over, had made everything inside him coil up and beg for release. His erection was throbbing, uncomfortably confined in his jeans, and he felt like his whole body was on fire.

Making the decision he desperately longed for, and excited to see her react, Remy ran one single fingertip from the nape of Rogue's neck, down past the dip in her spine.

She couldn't help but let a moan escape past her lips. Being deprived of so many senses and abilities set her other senses on overdrive. All she could focus on was the one single, the one teasing fingertip slowly making its way down her back.

He dragged his finger lightly, slowly, enjoying the small noises of desperation coming from the back of Rogue's throat. As he reached the small of her back, his finger moving slowly and teasingly. It went over her tailbone and between the cheeks of that perfectly sculpted backside. He had felt her stiffen lightly, probably worried about what he was going to do. They had tried anal sex once before, but not being properly prepared beforehand hadn't made it that enjoyable. She was nervous to try it again and Remy was surprised she seem to think that's where he was going now. He smirked even though she couldn't see it, he was just teasing her.

His other hand reached up to pull her hair again, just because the resulting moan made him shiver. He quickly stripped off his clothes. What he hadn't told Rogue that he may have stolen a power negator from the lab and set it up in his room. He wouldn't have to bit through cloth or, seeing as she was on the pill, wear protection. He was ecstatic.

"Oh Remy, please!" She couldn't hear him and certainly couldn't see him, but Rogue was not above begging. The idea of being bound and at his mercy had her turned on enough as it was, before he even started teasing her. "Ah just can't take it anymore!"

He smirked and was about to reprimand her before another thought occurred to him. Lifting a large hand up, he brought it quickly, and roughly, down onto her backside.

Rogue once again tried to jump, as something between a guttural yell and a groan forced it way past her lips. She struggled against her bonds but could barely move. Despite the semi-kinky activates they had often participated in, Remy had never spanked her before.

Obviously pleased at her reaction, Remy brought his hand down harder again, absolutely giddy at the pink hand shaped marked that was left on her behind. He repeated the action again and again as Rogue whimpered, and was clearly resting all her weight on the table, not on the legs that could barely hold her up anymore. He brought his palm down again, harder, one last time.

Just as Rogue expected to feel another blow, she yelled out loudly in a mix of need and surprise.

Remy had shocked her by quickly sliding two skilled fingers into the heat between her legs. He smiled wickedly, desperately excited and how wet she was.

Rogue tried to move, but failed and tried to rock her hips against his hand instead.

He had planned on teasing her – he really had- but the noises she was making and the aching in his groin told him there was no time for that. She was at his mercy; she was all his. He quickly slid in a third finger and pumped them quickly to bring her near the edge. When he could feel her getting close, he removed his fingers. Moving his body behind hers, he used a hand to position himself at her entrance. In one quick, deep thrust, he was fully inside of her. He heard himself grunting out loud at the perfecting he was feeling. She was so tight and so wet and so hot.

Rogue let out a strangled moan, which may or may not have sounds anything like 'please'. She wasn't sure.

Not bothering to be gentle, Remy pounded himself into her, fast and hard. Typically, he'd try to make it last, but seeing her in such a tempting position had his body only begging for release. He moved his hands up toward the table and between the table and Rogue's body. One had tightly cupped her breast while the other was between her legs, adding to her feelings of ecstasy.

As he heard Rogue cry out, and could see her toes curl, he knew he was putting her over the edge. Rather than slow down and let her ride it out, he only began to thrust faster and deeper.

He heard her yell out his name, and he was content to think that here he owned her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he passively thought that no one else would get her like this.

Rogue was literally screaming out. No soon did her first orgasm begin, than Remy was all ready bringing her towards a second. She could feel pain in her hips, where they were hitting the table, but she couldn't think past the feeling of her thighs quivering and her core exploding.

Remy waited until Rogue began to moan louder before letting himself go. He grunted loudly as closed his eyes as he felt pleasure reach every part of his body. As his orgasm overtook him, he thrust himself deep inside her one last time. Bent at the waist as well, he collapsed on top of Rogue, barely able to move.

After his body was able to function again, Remy was able to stand and slowly unbind Rogue and take off her blindfold. He tend collapsed onto his bed, pulling her with him.

Rogue took a deep breath, feeling utterly spent and satisfied, "Remy that was amazing."

He simply grunted in agreement.

"Ah do have one suggestion though."

Remy lazily looked up at her, his interest piqued.

"Next time yah do that, use something else to knock me out. That gave meh a headache."

Despite his tiredness, Remy let out a laugh, "Oui, mon chere. Oui."

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