It was much harder to focus now. Marie felt effervescent, like the bubbles in champagne. Wild and floaty. There was a darker thread too, pulling at her. Savage and hungry and impossible to ignore. It had settled low in her belly and made her want to press her legs together.

The woman on the platform moaned, tossing her head and straining against the intricate rope webbing. Her hair was like fire, lit from above. Every so often the man would stop and stroke it before returning to his work. Around and around. Through and over. Tighter and tighter.

Loops and twists formed easily under his fingers. The rope crawled across her skin. His movements had a beautiful rhythm, slow-slow-quick. Smooth and staccato together, a complex dance. He touched her between movements and between the ropes. Tender caresses, careful not to pinch her skin as he wove the ropes over and under and through, smiling when he flicked her with the tail end as it grew shorter and shorter.

On the stage, the man paused, looping the rope and pulling it taut before he bent in and sucked at the woman's nipple. His mouth let go with a soft pop and beside Logan, Marie shivered in the chair. The man returned to his work.

"What's he doing?" Marie asked, leaning in towards Logan, her voice a husky whisper purring against his eardrums. The ritual was too deliberate for it to not be something specific.

"Shibari."

"What's that?"

"S'Japanese word. It means 'to tie'."

Her mouth twitched. "Looks like there's a little more to it than that, sugar."

"There is. It's an art of erotic spirituality. Tyin' someone not just to keep 'em from movin', but to do so elegantly and beautifully. With purpose." He glanced over at her, wondering what she made of the show.

"It looks like bondage." He raised a brow at her. "Hey, I've seen pictures."

That drew a soft chuckle from him. "That's a part of it. Erotic bondage. The point isn't pain, or even pleasure. It's beauty."

"Beauty?"

"It's collaborative. Look at her. He's not doin' it against her will. She's offered herself. Her body is the canvas. He's the artist. The rope's his tool of choice and the designs he maps on her skin are his creation. The knots are carefully placed on her pressure points. He's makin' her skin sing." Beside him, Marie bit her full bottom lip. "If he knows what he's doin' — and knows his partner well — then the pressure will be damn good. Just where she needs it to make her fly. She wants him to take her someplace beautiful."

"Hmm…" That sounded good. Really, really good.

"Texture. Contrast. Trust. The rope against her skin. It'll leave marks they'll both enjoy after," he murmured quietly. Marie shivered again.

"Tell me more."

"There's more to it than that, more'n just physical. If he's really good at it, he can make it be euphoric for her. Like a runner's high, you know? Take her totally out of her head. For him it's the rush. Adrenaline and power."

"So it's the visual, coupled with the power exchange?" He could tell she didn't really understand.

"And the physical."

Logan studied her, curious about her reaction. Given their past conversations and the incident with Jubilee and Gambit, he thought she'd be more into the show unfolding before them. The rigger was surprisingly talented. The girl was half out of her head with pleasure and they were just getting started. Marie seemed only mildly interested, however. Her focus was on him and their quiet conversation rather than the couple on the platform. Interesting.

Logan tried to look at the performance objectively, seeing it as she might. With his senses, he found the lighting and the music mildly distracting, but the show itself was above average. The girl was tall and thin with long limbs like a doll; a crimson fall of hair against alabaster skin. Even the natural hemp looked a deep taupe against the expanse of creamy white. The contrast was beautiful. The man appeared to be in his late twenties. His hair was black and he had a few hours' worth of dark stubble shading his square jaw. His body was lean and strong and his hands moved confidently.

Logan's enhanced senses told him it was more than just an act. The two performers were deeply caught up in what was happening between them. They were both aroused, breathing erratically and sweating. Maybe Marie didn't find the man attractive? Or maybe it was the act itself? Still, though it might be unfamiliar to her, this was quite tame compared to some of the edgier erotic stories she'd written. He understood that not all fantasies were as good in reality as they were in theory, but he didn't think it was that, either.

"Don't like it?" he finally offered into the long silence. He honestly couldn't tell. Her scent and body language were giving him conflicting information.

"Uh…" She hesitated.

"Don't be shy. I wanna know," he said softly. He wanted this experience to be enjoyable for her. He was also interested in what it would reveal to him about her sexual likes and dislikes. That was virgin ground for them both.

"It's not that I don't think restraint is sexy. I do."

That was reassuring.

"But?"

"It's just the red hair really isn't doin' it for me. Sorry, sugar."

Well, fuck. That hadn't even crossed his mind. He didn't dwell on memories of Jean, but he could see why Marie might not be so into the idea of seeing a man with his general physical characteristics putting on an erotic show with a woman who could easily be Jean.

Shit. Now he felt like an ass.

"You don't gotta be sorry, darlin'." He wasn't playing now, or even teaching.

Marie caught the quick grimace ghost over his sharp features.

"There's no reason to feel bad. It's not your fault. I'm tryin'. It's just that she keeps taking me out of the moment."

"Nothin' wrong with that. You shouldn't hafta try, kid. It either comes or it don't." He refilled her glass. "You wanna take off? Find somethin' else to watch instead?"

"There's another show after this one, right?"

"Yeah. The mixed couple. This is just the openin' act." Typically that meant no penetrative sex, but this wasn't exactly the kind of place that had hard and fast rules.

She considered that a moment. "Then I want to stay here, sitting in the dark with you and listening to you tell me more about shibari." That was far more erotic to her than what was happening on the stage. Logan so rarely revealed any of his sexual self to her.

"You sure?" His voice got even softer. "He's not finished with her yet. He's still workin' up to it, but in a little while he's probably gonna make her come."

Jesus, that blush went all the way down.

Marie took a deep drink, but she met his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah. I think I mostly get it — in theory — but I'm not really sure I understand the 'why'."

Ah, Christ. He was going to ride that goddamn compelling innocence of hers to fucking perdition. He didn't even feel guilty about it. He was enjoying himself.

And so was she.

"You askin' for a lesson?"

The Rogue stared back at him. "You offerin'?"

He could feel the Wolverine rising in him, responding to the blatant challenge in her voice.

Logan reached forward and gently pulled the long, sheer scarf from her neck. It slid over her skin, an iridescent whisper, stirring her scent and imparting her warmth against his fingertips. "Give me your hand."

Her pulse throbbed, fast and unsteady under her skin as she wordlessly held out her left arm.

"Take your glove off." He was slowly twisting the scarf in his hand, creating a thin, dense green rope.

"Logan…"

"Off, darlin'," he repeated silkily. "It needsta be against your bare skin." She still hesitated. "I'll keep ya safe."

Up next: Pour Some Sugar On Me. Marie and Logan play an erotic game. Lines are crossed. The Wolverine reels.

Author's note: I realize this chapter is a bit shorter than my usual. Some will be short, some will be long, depending on how the natural breaks fall. Please do not discourage an author from posting by harping on the length of chapters. It is not helpful. They are what they are. My LoganMuse would also like to point out that it's bad for your Chi. Heh. Plus, there will be more in a day or two. Onward!