The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea Chapter Sixty Four (NC-17)
Disclaimers Apply

A/N Goddess Foxfeather, Queen of Mad Plotbunnies, BUSIEST WOMAN ALIVE ™, Prophetic Muse, Hamster Witch, Princess Chopsticks and Uberbeta… Bye Green Car! InterNutter, TC, Maxwell Pink and Dracena are sparkled for archiving/hosting! ProPhile: Yep, more smut… Morgan: How you feeling? Readers/Reviewers: Almost there, just a few more… ;)

“I’m going to Scotland in a week,” Rahne said, pulling Jamie aside when he would enter the rec room. “I wanted to tell you first.”
“Oh…” Jamie glanced past her towards the already crowded room and nodded in the direction of the laundry room. He closed his eyes and slammed his shoulder into the wall as hard as he could, producing a multiple. “Go,” he ordered, pointing to the rec room, taking Rahne’s hand and leading her to the laundry room as the multiple trotted off. He did not say anything else until the door was shut firmly between them and the rest of the world. “Why?”
“Well…this mess,” she sighed, a vague wave of her hand indicating the letter from home and all it implied. “The only way I can sort it out is if to to this…well,” she sighed, changing tacks into explanation mode. “I need to go to the archdiocese and have this meeting with the priest and bishop and… well, plea my case.”
Jamie frowned, leaning against the washing machine. “Is that what you want to do or what you think you should do?”
“Is there a difference?” she murmured plaintively, moving to stand next to him. “I need to do this, Jamie. I don’t…I don’t think I want to but I need to. Being Catholic is so tied to who I am that sometimes I think I can’t separate it.” She had considered going to Kurt to talk about this problem but somehow she doubted that he would understand. His brand of Catholicism was a shade different from hers; she decided it must be the Romany influence.
Jamie nodded and reached for her hand, staring at his sneakers all the while. “I guess it’s because I was raised kinda agnostic that it’s hard for me to understand, but I’ll miss you while you’re gone.”
Rahne leaned her head against his neck and sighed. “Me too.”
“You’ll miss you while you’ree?” e?” he asked, feigning amazement, “wow, you *are * a mutant…”
She snorted, smacking his upper arm and shifting to stand in front of him, smiling faintly. “You’re a dork, you know that?” She laced her fingers behind his neck and became serious. “When I thought you were dead… when I saw Logan carrying your multiple down the hall… I thought I was going to be sick.”
“Not exactly a romantic swoon, but it’ll do,” he teased, pulling her closer. “I think we can work up towoonwoon. I’ll start small, like with a sore throat. As I build in discomfort to oh, say, a broken arm, you can build up to a full swoon.” He laughed at her bemused expression and squeezed her tighter. “What?”
“You’re odd, you know that? Very, very odd…” She sighed and tilted her face back to look up at him. “We’re missing the meeting.”
“We’ll live.” He kissed her then, tentatively, his old nervousness coming back. She did not respond immediately but after a moment, she leaned against him, her lips parting beneath his and her breath leaving her in a sigh. Jamie slowly deepened the kiss, his fingers tightening on her lower back as hers held him to her. He wanted to wait, he wanted it to be perfect and private, but something in the back of his mind was telling him it was going to be otherwise. They had done this before but he had hoped waiting a while would make him less nervous, that it would make him seem less eager and help her see he did love her, not just lusted after her. As it was, they were still simply kissing, despite what his back brain was demanding. Rahne made an inarticulate noise in the back of her throat and pulled away slightly, just enough to talk. “What?” he asked quietly. “Want to stop?”
“No…but I thought you might…”
He shrugged, trying for nonchalant. He knew she could feel him against her and the way she was shifting her weight, rubbing her stomach against his obvious arousal, was nelpielping him to think clear and gentlemanly thoughts. “We can…”
She smiled a little. “It seems as if you might not want to…” She leaned close again, pressing fully against him. “I don’t.”
He knew that, if he spoke, it would come out sounding reedy or strangled, so he just nodded and managed a sound of agreement before kissing her again. This time she was in control of the embrace, deepening the kiss almost immediately, pulling him so that her back was against the wall and he was against her. “Rahne,” he asked, breaking away, breathing a shade heavier than normal, “are you sure this is the right time? We can wait, go to my room later, go somewhere else…”
“Jamie,” she breathed, reaching for his jeans’ button, “we’ve nearly died, probably been exposed as mutants, and defeated something big and scary within the past thirty six hours. I’m leaving for Scotland tomorrow and I may or may not be excommunicated because I am, in the words of the priest, hellspawn. I think this is a perfect time.” She kissed him again, slipping her hand between the waistband of his underwear and his skin. Jamie bit his lip on a groan as she gripped him carefully, freeing him from the confines of his clothing, stroking him a little as she stood there, staring up at him earnestly.
“Okay,” he finally said, because he could not find a reason not to. All the waiting, all the plans and ideas, had boiled down to one thing. He wanted to be with her in every way possible. Their first couplings had been frantic, uncertain, and he had a good idea the next several would be, too, but he did not care. Rahne wanted him and he wanted her in return. She did not doubt his feelings for her and he did not doubt hers. He gasped as she bit his neck, not hard enough to break skin but enough to give him a good idea just how ready she was. He wondered if part of it had to deal with the animal side of her nature, the show of passion and forcefulness, and he found that he did not care about that, either, why she was so ready, pulling at his clothes and hers, rubbing against him, kissing his neck and throat and lips, gasping as his fingers found her center. She was still pressed against the wall but she did not seem to mind so he did not try to lay her down. Instead, he maneuvered and adjusted so that she was off her feet, her legs coming around his hips almost automatically. She grinned then, grasping his shoulders and he could have sworn she was purring for a moment, totally unlike her lupine nature. It was awkward and difficult, but he managed to guide himself into her waiting sex, Rahne making imperceptible adjustments until they were joined, slowly and excruciatingly joined. She shivered against him, burying her face in his neck. He could feel his pulse racing, his heart pounding in his chest, and he wondered briefly what he was doing, what he had been thinking. There was no way he could last long enough to please her this time, and he felt preemptive guilt over that, but she did not let him dwell on that for very long. She carefully shifted her hips, murmuring his name against his neck, and he nodded. After some hesitation, he began to move within her, cushioning the back of her head with his hand so it would not strike the wall. It was torture, it seemed, to go so slow when his body was demanding otherwise, but he tried to make it l Sh She moved only a little, precarious as her position was, relying on internal muscles to squeeze and draw on his length. Rahne began moaning against him again, murmuring things like “right there” and “oh, god, yes” as he moved in a steady but slow pace. After a few moments, she gasped and tightened her grip on his shoulders, her nails digging into him as she gasped his name over and over, soft cries of yes and more and please filling his ears as she seemed to melt around him. His own release a few minutes later was more violent, torn from him and not nearly as fluid and graceful as her. He pressed against her one last time, crying out sharply as he felt the climax spurt from within him and fill her. When he finally pulled away to help her stand on her feet again, he was blushing furiously. “Sorry,” he muttered. “Sorry…”
“Don’t be,” she whispered, gathering her clothes before resting her hand aside his face. “Never be. I do love you, Jamie, no matter what happens to us because of the mess Magneto created. I’ll be gone a week or so, hopefully not more, and when I come back, we can decide how to do things.”
“What do you mean, how to do things…” he asked, bemused.
“You’ll see.”