This is part three of my untitled series (Scotty's Wet Dream and Frosty the Iceman).
Jean Grey is owned by Marvel, not I...unfortunately. Yadda-yadda-yadda, so
don't sue me.
Jean Grey walked slowly through the hall to her room. It had been too long of a day for her to think of anything else but a nice hot bath and sleep. She pushed her card key into it's slot and the door beeped open.
She took a deep breath as she made her way inside and towards the bed. Unfortunately, the day hadn't gone as planned. She was supposed to sit quietly and watch as Hank addressed the Senate Board Committee, but things had turned ugly too quick. Somehow the protestors outside the Senate building had found their way inside and soon were causing a huge mess full of shouting and angry words.
She couldn't sit quietly for too long, not while things were being hurled at Hank. Shoes and signs and whatever else the mob of people could find to throw at the number one guest speaker.
Jean plopped down on the bed and tossed off her high heels. She wondered if this was the norm for all Senate Summits. All the ones she had ever attended had gone quite similar to the one that day.
She laughed a little at the ignorance of the protestors. She could never figure out how an idea so completely unfounded could be such a widely accepted one.
Jean pulled the pins out of her hair and shook the bun out. Her red hair cascaded down her back and she sighed at the comfortable feeling she got. She unbuttoned her blouse and fell back on the bed.
She knew that the Senate Summit wasn't a vacation, but she was glad for the time away from the X-Men and most of all her husband.
Lately, things had grown increasingly bad between Scott and herself. Nothing was ever good enough for him. If it wasn't her making a bad decision about the team, it was a bad decision she made about their relationship. Little things drove him off the edge. The clothes she wore, the way she pronounced a word, her opinion on someone's cooking. But the thing that set him off the worst was their sex life.
She couldn't please him no matter what she did. And of course, she had to forget about being pleasured by him. It was all about him...getting him off...making him orgasm. She was sick of it. She actually dreaded going to bed at night, knowing she would have to have sex with him and knowing he would dictate what she should and shouldn't do. It was horrible.
She blinked. "Fuck this," she muttered as she sat up, then got up and moved to her suitcase.
She unzipped it and rummaged through it until she found just what she was looking for. A little black dress with a plunging neck line. She quickly threw off her clothes and put the dress on.
She looked at herself in the mirror and made up her mind. She was going to have a good time if it killed her and she wouldn't once think about make anyone else happy. She shook out her hair once more before putting on some black strappy shoes and leaving the room.
The nightclub was vibrant and full of life. The dance floor was full of
writhing bodies that jiggled and bounced to the R&B; club mix. The
multi-colored lights spun above the dance floor and speckled the room with
rainbow flecks.
Jean wasn't usually into the big nightclubs that made New Year's Eve in New
York look like a town meeting, but she was ready to shed that skin and
experience something new.
She walked down a set of stairs and tried not to bump into anyone which was
difficult because the stairs were as crowded as the dance floor. She made it
down without doing too much damage and started for the bar.
She sat down on the one stool that was vacant and waited for a bartender to
make his way to her.
After twenty minutes, she lost interest in getting the bartender's attention.
He would walk past her and not even notice the beautiful redhead. She chalked
it up to him being gay and left it at that.
She turned on the stool and looked at the dance floor. Maybe she should try
it. There wasn't exactly that much to do except dance and drink and it was
pretty clear that she wouldn't be doing much drinking. She stood up and
straightened her dress, then walked into the throbbing mass of people.
She felt a little silly dancing by herself and she was feeling a little
self-conscious about her worn-out dance moves. She had pretty much been a
wallflower at any event with dancing involved because, to quote Remy, she
"didn' have rhythmic bone in her body". She did a little shuffle with her
feet and glanced up to see if anyone was staring at her.
She sighed. This wasn't working at all. She wasn't having fun nor was she
even close to having fun. She threw up her hands and started to walk away from
the dance floor.
All the sudden, someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.
"Looks like you could use some help." A deep and purely male voice said.
"Uh, I-"
"Shhhh." He put a finger to her lips and shook his head. "Just dance with
me."
She stared up at him. He was attractive to say the least. He had jet black
hair that was a little long in the back and had curls at the ends. His deep
brown eyes held a mischievous gaze.
"I can't dance. I'm horrible at-"
"Shhhh. Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he told her.
"Okay." She didn't know why she was indulging him. A perfect
stranger...who had a great body and breathtaking smile.
He loosened his grasp on her and let his arm fall low on her back. He started
to move his hips in rhythm with the music and motioned for her to do the same.
She tried to roll her hips, but it came out looking like she was half-assed
hula-hooping.
"Quit trying so hard. Let the music guide your hips. Let it flow," he said
as he took his other hand moved over her hip to help her.
In a matter of moments, she had the hang of the simple move. He moved closer
to her and soon they were doing the move together. "That's right," he
whispered in her ear.
His hand moved from her him to her shoulder, then drifted down her side so
close to her breast that she felt his touch there. Her heart began to beat
fast and her breathing quickened. He spun her and brought her back to him,
then did a downward twisting with her body.
"That's good. See, I told you that you'd get it." He voice was husky
almost as if he were feeling the same thing she was.
He dipped her backwards and slowly brought her up again. His hand moved to her
throat and as he brought her up, his hand traced a path downward. From the
hollow of her neck and down through the valley between her breasts, she felt a
hot fire burn her.
"What do you want?"
"What?" She was confused now. That had just come of the blue or somewhere
even farther away.
"You want something, I can tell. You look like a woman on a mission. So what
are you looking for?" He asked, continuing his sensuous movements with her.
How had he known that? Was he a telepath? Certainly she would have known if
he had entered her mind, wouldn't she?
"I want to be someone else for a night," she told him with a bold confidence
that scared her.
He grinned. "Is that right? Well, I think I might be able to help you if
you'd like me to."
She considered that option for a minute. She hadn't planned to do anything
sexual, but that choice presented itself and he certainly was willing. She was
attracted to him, why not take a chance?
^Because you would be cheating on your husband, Jean.^ Her conscience told
her. That was always got the better of her...that damned voice in her head
that told her she shouldn't do this and she shouldn't do that.
"You want to be someone else. You have to shut out all of those tendencies to
want to do what you always do. Stop thinking and feel."
She stared at him. Where had he come from? Was it just coincidence that he
would see her tonight of all nights and come over to her?
Despite her better judgment, she closed her eyes and nodded. "All right."
"You don't look too sure, there, Scarlet."
She smirked and gave him a impish look. "I'm sure, just keep calling me
Scarlet."
He cocked an eyebrow and nodded his head. "Whatever you say."
He hadn't touched her since they left the nightclub. Jean began to wonder if he was having second thoughts and then began to have second thoughts of her own.
She popped the card into the slot and heard it beep. She walked in and turned the lights on.
"Do you want something to drink? I have the mini-bar," she said, pointing to the little countertop and refrigerator in the corner of the room.
"No, thanks."
She blinked and nodded a little. "Okay."
The room filled with silence and Jean was tempted to run out of the hotel. She was so uncomfortable that she fidgeted uncontrollably. She didn't know what to do next and she thought he was feeling the same way.
^Maybe I should initiate the sex.^ She said the words in her mind and it sounded so clinical. This wasn't what she had in mind. It seemed like the same thing she would do with Scott every night. Her only hopeful light came from knowing that this stranger might be better in bed.
She reached for her zipper and was about to unzip her dress when all of the sudden he spoke. "No."
"W-W-What?" Was he refusing her? Oh, this night had gone from bad to worse in a matter of an hour.
He glared at her, then stood up. He slowly moved over to her and put his hand on her collarbone, brushing her shoulder as he moved behind her. His presence was larger than life and Jean felt her blood grow hotter.
He lowered his head and she could feel his warm breath on her bare skin. He brushed his lips over her neck, then sucked it lightly. She shivered and closed her eyes. He put his hands on her shoulders and slid them down her arms, causing goose bumps to form over her skin.
She heard her zipper being unzipped and then her dress falling to the floor. His hands explored her body with an expert touch.
He cupped her breasts and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples causing them to grow harder than she had ever felt them grow before. "Does this feel good?"
"Oh, god, yes!" She gasped as he pinched her nipples lightly.
He turned her to face him. His eyes had grown darker, full of passion. "Whoever has you doesn't worship you the way you should be worshipped."
Jean felt her heart swell with happiness and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him with full force, her tongue caressing his. He tasted like brandy and something she couldn't quite place...cigars, perhaps? Whatever it was it was making her tipsy, dizzy with perfect pleasure.
His large hand settled at her tailbone and slowly slid upward until he brought it over her shoulder and down between the valley of her breasts. His touch was so light that it sent a wave of shivers through her.
"Who are you?" he whispered, caressing her cheek. He licked her upper lip, then drew her bottom lip into his mouth, sucking gently.
"I-"
"Shhh." He placed his index finger over her lips and stared at her for a moment. "Scarlet. Who is Scarlet?"
Her belly twisted. She had been so close to telling him who she was. How had he known?
Who was Scarlet? What did she want? Scarlet wanted to be in charge. She wanted to tell this nameless man what to do, order him to do her bidding.
These new feelings both frightened and excited her. If she did take charge, would he play along? He seemed to want to help her be someone else. Would he go all the way? Would she?
Taking in a shaky breath, Jean-or rather Scarlet- spoke. "Kiss my breasts."
The stranger grinned. For a moment, she was sure he wouldn't do it, but then he slowly lowered his lips to her breast and kissed her lightly.
She moaned. It felt so good, but it wasn't enough. "Suck right here." She touched her nipple, then guided his head over the rosy peak.
He sucked and licked and bit gently. He switched between both nipples, torturing one for a while then the other until she was groaning so loud that she was sure everyone on her floor would hear her.
"What else do you want me to do?" he asked as he licked a path up to the base of her neck.
"Carry me to the bed and take off my panties," she ordered.
He picked her up and did as she had said, laying her on the bed and removing her wet, black silk underwear. He left her garter belt and stockings on as well as her high heels. He let his gaze wander over her exposed skin then kneeled on the bed.
Continuing his exploration of her breasts, he made his way southward. Kissing her stomach and nibbling on her skin. His hands rested on the tops of her thighs.
"And now?" He kissed the soft thatch of hair that nestled above her womanhood. "Do you want me to kiss you lower?"
Her voice was raspy and full of passion. "Yes."
His hands gripped her thighs and spread her. He traced his tongue around her outer skin, being very careful not to touch her most sensitive parts. Suddenly, he licked from bottom to top, the very center of her. Her hips bucked wildly.
"Oh, God! Don't stop!"
Flicking his tongue over her clit, he slowly pushed his middle finger in her. He pulled out, then in again. Faster and harder, adding another finger all the while making love to her clit with his expert tongue.
He moaned and she could feel the vibrations straight through her. It sent her over the edge, her climax shooting from head to toe. She screamed and panted, her hips jerking.
"Do you want it all, Miss Scarlet?" His voice startled her and reality slammed into her.
What had she just done? God, this was by far the stupidest thing she had ever-
"You're thinking again. Don't. Tell me. Tell me you want me inside of you. Tell me you want to come again. Tell me. Something."
She still wanted him, couldn't get enough of him, this stranger who know her body better than anyone else. After this, she would never see him again. "I want you. I need you to be inside of me right now."
He made quick work of his clothing and joined her back on the bed. He was magnificent, muscled, bronze skin. Light sprinkling of black hair covered his chest and trailed downward to a larger patch of curls. His cock stood erect, proudly displaying itself. He was longer and larger than Scott, which was pretty impressive considering Scott was not even close to being small.
His skin smelled of rain and she wondered what he tasted like. Of course, she could always find out...
Maneuvering her body, she got into a position where she was eye level with his erection. Shyly, she closed her hand over the base of it and moved upward. His groans of pleasure told her that she was doing something right and she quickly set onto a different type of pleasure.
She licked the head of his cock, then down the length of its shaft. God, he even tasted like rain. Swirling her tongue around the hardened flesh, she opened her mouth to him. He slid so smoothly into her hot mouth that she was sure that it was the only place it belonged.
She sucked him and played with the soft sac underneath. Her tempo changed rapidly from soft and slow to hard and fast. His orgasm welled up in the base of his cock, she could feel it.
Just as he was about to release himself, he pulled her mouth away. She thought about fighting him. Hell, she actually wanted him to come in her mouth. But the look on his face told her that he had better plans.
He leaned her back on the bed and began teasing her with the tip of his arousal. He flicked it over her clit, then slid it down her and into her. He filled her slightly, pulled back, and thrust as hard as he could into her.
"Shit! Holy mother of-" Her voice was muffled by his mouth covering hers. Their tongues dueled as he slid in and out of her wet pussy, making her even hotter- if that was even possible.
Her orgasm was building up, her muscles began to tighten as the first waves of her climax washed over her. She yelled obscenities she never thought would ever come from her mouth as she experienced the best fucking orgasm she had ever had.
His followed soon after, his seed shooting straight into her womb. A purely animalistic growl escaped his throat and her whole body shivered.
He rolled off of her. Here it was. He would leave now and never say another word to her.
But wait! What is he doing?
His arms enfold her and hold her so tightly that she almost can't breathe. But she didn't say anything, the feeling she felt was so good that she didn't want it to end.
Jean woke up to the sound of a ringing telephone. She grabbed for the receiver. "Hello?" she asked groggily.
"Good morning, Miss Grey. This is your wake-up call. It is now eight AM. Have a great day."
Her whole body ached from the workout she had had the night before. The stranger had kept her up until four that morning. He was insatiable.
She turned over and half-expected him to still be lying next to her. But he had left while she slept, or at least when he thought she had been sleeping.
She had never caught his name, but at some point she had begun calling him Don Juan. Oh, the things she had said to him. A red hot blush crept onto her cheeks.
He was everything she had ever dreamed of. Sexy and open-minded.
"Maybe you should try being Scarlet all the time. I think she is the real you, my lovely," he had said. Words of wisdom, he had been full of them.
Only question was: would she be wise enough to follow his advice?