Logan and Marie watched as the man on the stage slowly, leisurely, slid his hand up the woman's throat and into her long, shiny hair. He made a strong fist and pulled her up. Not hard or rough, but with passion as he brought her face to his. They shared a wet kiss before he guided her back over his knee and stroked her nape.
Marie didn't realize her fingers had stroked her own neck, brushing over Logan's bite. Logan saw the small gesture and wet his lips, unconsciously searching for any lingering taste of her left on his mouth.
The next touch was rougher; a sharp, staccato smack. Marie jerked in her seat. The woman hummed with pleasure. His hand fell again. And again. It was definitely more than playful. Intense without inflicting real pain. Rough but not violent.
Marie could hear their breathing change, their heartbeats begin to speed in unison. The swats echoed off the harsh surfaces instead of being absorbed. She could smell the leather of the chair and the spice in the man's scent as his body heated with exertion. The leather creaked pleasantly in counterpoint to the sharp sound of his palm striking her flawless skin. It left large, beautiful fiery-red handprints.
When the woman began tensing, anticipating the next swat, the man changed tactics, deftly slipping his fingers under the silky fabric between her legs to touch the slick moisture gathering there. He used his thumb for that, too, before slowly licking away the glossy sheen with a lusty smirk. A smack. A caress. A dirty push of his fingers, first two - then three. Another smack. The drag of his nails. A bite. Always changing it up. He chuckled aloud when he playfully pinched her ass and she squealed in surprise, throwing him a flirtatiously dirty look over her shoulder.
Marie enjoyed their lively sense of fun. The woman was spirited and the man was surprisingly playful in the most engaging of ways.
Their energy was different than the previous couple. Less underlying tension. There was affection but not love, and a sultry mischievousness that was heavily centered in the physical. They were playmates, not soulmates. That sense of lightness made the seductive descent into watching the carnal act easier for an innocent like Marie, who despite her adventurous nature, still had some firm lines in the sand.
Darkness descended.
An exquisite cry broke the silence. Marie's mind whirled. God! What had he done to her? The rapid shifts from light to dark were purposeful. It took even those with enhanced senses a moment or two to adjust, allowing the couple on the platform brief slivers of time when the two on stage were perfectly hidden.
This time, the light brought a rush of heat and a blush to Marie's face. The man's wide thumb brushed the woman's full, wet lips and then he pushed it inside for her to suck. Was his thumb salty? Sweet? He'd been drinking Southern Comfort at the bar. Was her tongue swirling around it, inviting him deeper? Marie squirmed against Logan.
Fuck. There was a flash of teeth in the darkness that was not quite a smile, but a sign of pleasure nonetheless. Marie's growing restlessness was slowly pushing Logan closer and closer to the edge.
The man pulled his thumb from the woman's mouth and slid it down her neck and chest, leaving a wet trail. He scratched his way back up before slipping his fingers inside the cup of her bustier, pinching her nipple hard enough to wring a delicious sound from her.
Logan clenched his teeth as he watched Marie's hand cup her own breast lightly before it slipped down to press against her middle, as if it could hold the riot of wild feelings at bay. He could tell she hungered. Strongly. Deeply. Aching for touch. To feel what the woman on the stage was feeling.
Logan had wanted that for Marie— and for himself, too. Tonight was just as much about watching each other as it was about watching an erotic show. This one couldn't have been more suited to them. Little visual cues that made it more intense for them both. The corset. The buckle. A slim brunette kneeling before a feral man. It was all too easy for Logan to imagine himself in the man's place with a different brunette on her knees, inflaming all his senses. In truth, his mind had been there many times before.
Marie's pink cheeks and sultry scent told him she was thinking about it too, casting herself as the woman on the stage. Her face was so open and expressive. There was no mistaking which man she was picturing in her head. Not with her fierce, exultant claim still ringing in his ears. It excited him and made him a little apprehensive, too. She was deeply invested and he hoped what played out on the stage and in her head wouldn't ultimately be too salty for her or push her too far down an unfamiliar path.
A look passed between the couple on the platform and the bearded man nodded slowly, once, and stood. He planted his feet wide as the woman purred against his groin, rubbing her cheek against him silkily before pulling back to watch his eyes as her hand crept up the inside of his thigh and reached for his belt.
This time when the lights went out, Marie whimpered softly.
Logan did not miss the flutter of Marie's fingers or her quick glance at his buckle. Fixing the details in her head to make her fantasy better, he hoped, aware Marie had likely imagined the darkness would conceal her furtive glance.
When the spotlight returned, Marie flushed to the roots of her hair. Her skin felt hot, fluttery and twitchy. The angle was perfect for her to see everything. It was as if the feral man was putting the show on just for her. Perhaps he was.
The man was not at all shy. Even half hard, he was magnificent and there was something wonderfully dirty about a barefoot, aroused man exposed in a pair of unzipped jeans. Marie found herself smiling as the woman hefted the heavy column of flesh in her palm and stroked him from base to tip, imagining a similar touch on a different man. The image easily sprang to mind with such an explicit visual firing her fantasy. She enjoyed the little shiver of pleasure the man couldn't quite contain, too. He was powerful but not immune to the woman's intimate touch, or to his body's instinctive response to such openly erotic stimulation.
Could she make Logan's body do that? Draw such a visceral reaction from so stoic a man? Their eyes met and he seemed to be able to read her mind. The Wolverine missed nothing. Marie's eyes darted back to the man on the stage. He was the safer place to look by far.
He was beautiful, thick and natural, rising proudly now from a nest of golden brown hair that was dense and a little wild. When the woman pushed up his shirt a little, Marie could see the trail extended up his abdomen. It made her want to follow it with her tongue. It also made her wonder what else was hidden under his clothes. She was starting to resent not being able to look her fill, unfettered. She felt hungry and restless. Logan's solid, strong presence at her side only amplified the feeling. In her mind's eye, every touch and gasp took on a different meaning, painted in her head in shades of them. Logan's touch. Her gasp. It was difficult to concentrate between her awareness of him and the earthy scent of his arousal filling her head.
The man's face was hard, unreadable. His hand was fisted in the woman's hair. Marie's eyes were drawn back irresistibly to his thick erection, her eyes wide and her breathing deep.
She wet her lips.
Logan brushed his mouth against her ear. "That the first time you've seen one?"
Her low, throaty laugh surprised him.
"No. I could touch Bobby in his ice form."
Logan shook his head, eyes sparkling. "Sounds… chilly."
"I can say with certainty that's not the kind of goosebumps I was hoping for." That drew a quiet rumble of amusement from both men. "I definitely prefer the flesh and blood version."
Logan grunted. On the stage, the man's dimples were hidden in his beard.
Darkness fell. Into it came a rough masculine purr. The sound of a man in his pleasure. Marie hummed too, caught up in the story playing out before them. She flushed, catching her lip in her bottom teeth, a little embarrassed by her visceral reaction, but too aroused to stop. All of them could feel it. There was a sense they were gaining momentum, rushing toward a deliciously inevitable conclusion.
The light returned, falling on the man's upturned face. One hand remained tangled in the woman's dark hair. The other stroked her face, brushing her full lips stretched wide around his girth and caressing her throat as she swallowed greedily around him. Dominance without possession.
The man was beginning to make low chuffs deep in his chest. Not a human sound at all. It was savage and compelling, pounding in Marie's ears and vibrating against her sensitive skin like a touch. The sound drew an instant reaction from her, a new slick rush of desire and a full body shudder she felt down to her toes. "Oh….." It was less a word and more a sound; that first sharp intake and then the expectant feel as she automatically held her breath, waiting for what came next.
Fuck. That sound. Innocence twined with fierce hunger. Longing that demanded attention. The man on stage couldn't help but look, an answering groan on his own lips. Nature commanded it. He was unable to resist the compulsion. He held one woman's eyes while the other pleasured him. He never did that. Never. That eyeful of young sweetness was smashing his rules to hell. He could feel the sweat trickling down his belly and when the girl wet her lips with the unconscious desire to taste him, his eyes slid shut and his head fell back as he let himself imagine that Mississippi sugar swallowing him down.
His touch became less gentle, communicating his need to his playmate. A wave of feral lust rose and his hips began to thrust. The mouth between his legs grew rougher, wetter and more pliant. Lips and tongue and… teeth. He grunted hard, dragged too close to the edge by a slip of little girl and an instinctive desire to answer her primal call.
"So rough!" Marie exclaimed softly. She turned her head toward Logan, meeting his eyes. They were hooded, black with desire and more than a little wild. He wasn't watching the show. He was watching her. Her scent was driving him insane. His body was telling him to cover her, to rut and thrust and bite. "That— that's okay?"
"Fuck yeah." He nodded curtly. "Hurts good." A feral smirk appeared on his mouth, showing her a flash of his canines. "I liketa bite, too. Sometimes sweet and slow ain't enough to burn away the fire."
The darkness came again. Logan felt Marie shift against him. He heard the rasp of satin and felt the warmth of naked hesitant fingers hovering just over his lips.
"Can I?"
Hasta be her choice. All on her.
He opened his mouth in answer, letting her feel for herself. His canines weren't really longer than average, but they were much sharper. She touched his lips and then his teeth, her fingertips pressing the points experimentally. His tongue encouraged her finger deeper, and he sucked softly, rhythmically, almost without thought. Salt and sweat and want bloomed on his tongue. The buzz followed, warning him of the impending pull and he released her. Grudgingly.
She ducked her head, flushing more when her eyes fell on his lap. He widened his legs a little and let her take a good long look. His blood pounded, a fierce throbbing just there under his buckle. A wet spot would probably be visible soon. He was intensely aroused, weeping need in a steady trickle now. In a way it was more explicit than what was happening on the stage. Certainly more intimate. When she licked the finger he'd just sucked, it took all he had to remain seated, his hands clenched at his sides.
Jesus, fuck.
Marie's mind was in turmoil. What would he do if she touched him? She wanted to. Her fingers twitched with it, but something held her back at the last minute. Logan swallowed a fiery mouthful of bourbon. "Put your glove back on," he growled. His eyes flashed gold when he said it and even The Rogue knew better than to push him when he was like that.
The light began to flicker like a strobe, revealingly only little flashes of the couple on the stage.
Her fingers on the buttons of his vest.
His teeth on her neck.
Her nails digging into him.
The flickers grew faster — the glimpses they revealed more intimate. There was a feeling of acceleration. Adrenaline and lust and sex and skin.
His mouth on her breast.
Her nipple pulled sharply in his teeth.
His fingers buried deep.
When the light returned, warm and steady, the woman was in the chair and the man was standing, naked and wild before her. His body was tawny, muscular and fit. A powerful chest and shoulders and a light furring of caramel hair on his forearms and legs. A darker tangle at his groin. He had several scars. A warrior's body. Marie could see the tattoo on his arm fully now. An unexpected spray of orchids in sepia and white. Some woman, somewhere, had touched him deeply. A second, smaller, tattoo sat over his heart, a black desert frog and trident. A SEAL, then.
Marie imagined him in bed. She wondered if Logan was imagining facing him in the cage. Either way, a violent catharsis of emotion and a physical resolution to the tension winding them all too tight.
The bearded man could feel the weight of the Mississippi girl's stare. Her hunger beat at him. He preened for her a little, savoring her eyes on him and flexing lightly, making his muscles jump and ripple under his golden skin. He palmed his cock, stroking the thick length slowly just to hear her soft intake of breath. It would be warm and sweet against his skin.
He pounced on the woman, a purr rumbling in his chest as he lifted her up and sat her on the back of the chair with a devilishly dirty grin. He was enjoying himself. He licked her neck and they kissed, his hair a rough tangle from her fingers as they parted. He looked like a wild thing as he got between her spread legs, pulled down her bustier and licked and nipped at her. It was dirtier, more erotic than if he'd pulled it off of her entirely, patience and propriety long gone.
"Mmm…"
Logan's hum of approval earned him a wry smile from the Rogue.
"You like that, sugar?"
"Fuck yeah." It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she'd like it too. Instead, he bit down, tasting copper and shuddered at the sparkle in Marie's eyes. For all her innocence, she seemed very aware of what he was truly thinking. Perhaps it was because she had so much of him inside her now, or perhaps they were simply, finally, in tune.
On the stage, the man showed the woman off a little, holding her leg up and scraping his teeth down the length of it before pulling off her stockings with his teeth and biting into her instep with a playful growl. Palming her small breasts in his large hands, he smiled as he bent to her. It was good... but there was a more alluring scent below. He followed his nose, nipping the inside of each knee as he opened her legs and pulled aside the scrap of lace to lick and suck. Marie bit her lip. The woman moaned, making little sexy noises in her throat as she squirmed.
The man had stopped playing. He grabbed her hips hard, holding them where he wanted while he worked her, purring against her as she wailed.
Logan's expression said he liked that, too. Marie's mouth went dry.
The lights went out.
Marie shivered against Logan, leaning forward in anticipation. Her lips were parted and she was breathing through her mouth now. Last time she had been passive. This time she couldn't wait to see what would happen next. Everything about her telegraphed her readiness; her scent, her posture, her breathing and heartbeat. Slick and ready and open.
Christ.
Logan put his claws out on the hand opposite her, using the pain to ground himself.
Marie moaned softly with the reemergence of the light. Logan jerked in his seat as the sound crawled over his skin.
The couple had moved. The man had tipped the woman over the back of the chair, his rugged features twisted into a snarl of unfettered lust as he kicked the woman's legs apart, ripped her panties to the side and shoved in hard.
"Unnh!" The low needy sound broke from Marie as she grabbed Logan's hand tightly. It was too much. It wasn't an erotic touch, it was a lifeline. He had always been protection and safety to her and she turned to him now with big wet eyes, tremulous and shaking.
It was too much here, like this. Too open. Too revealing. Too close to what had happened between them in the alcove. She'd never imagined feeling like this just from sitting with him and watching…
Her eyes were drawn back to the couple on the stage. The woman's back arched in welcome, her hair spilling wildly as she tipped forward with the force of his initial entry. Her feet were leaving the ground with each powerful thrust of his hips. Sweat shone in the small of her back. The man pulled out and stroked the thick, glistening length of his erection before crudely licking his palm and wiping his wet fingers over his nose and mouth.
Marie's eyes were wide with a question she was too embarrassed to voice.
"Hasta taste them together," Logan whispered into her hair. Her whole body shook against his.
The rhythm of the thrusts was getting to them both. Hard, deep powerful movements that forced guttural feminine grunts from the woman every time he bottomed out. Then a pause. A look exchanged. A smirk. Another savage thrust. A pause. The thrusts grew quicker and harder until the woman's individual grunts became one long, loud, sustained cry.
The man shoved in deep and stilled his sweaty body.
"Why'd he stop?" Marie asked, breathlessly. They were clearly not finished. She was still feeling acutely shy, but her curiosity got the better of her, despite the feelings overwhelming her.
Logan's ears were still ringing from the woman's throaty cry. He chuckled darkly. "To give her a breather, darlin'. She don't have his stamina."
That lay there between them, a gauntlet unwittingly thrown down. She wondered if Logan would have to stop for her? The Rogue said no. Shouted it inside her head until it was all she could hear.
"God."
"Feels good, too, when ya get goin' again after. Little break like that makes everythin' more sensitive."
The man was moving again. Sharp, hard thrusts with random intervals between, longer at first and then slowly getting shorter as he gained momentum. The rhythm was different now as they hurtled toward something none of them could stop. The woman keened, an earthy obscene sound forced from her by her lover's unapologetic physical mastery of her body.
"Hurts good," Marie whispered, understanding now.
Logan only nodded, unable to speak. He was too close to the edge.
The feral man pawed at the woman now, moving roughly, without his earlier playful edge, lost to instinct and his need to make the woman come.
Everything seemed to crash in on Marie at once; the explicit eroticism of the act, the scent of Logan's arousal and the answering musk of her own, the wild thoughts in her head and the visual behind her eyes of a different couple making love with absolute abandon, all control gone, all walls torn down. Everything exposed.
Logan felt Marie squeeze his hand and he drew her into the protective shelter of his body. She was trembling, wide-eyed and breathing erratically. Someday, the Rogue would not have limits. Today, she did, and he was aware she'd reached them. He hushed her, a wordless croon, soft and low.
The feelings swirling in her were too big, too wild and they frightened her. Caught in the eddies, she'd been pulled into the rapids. The water was deep and the current too strong to fight. Marie wanted, desperately, and yet, she was afraid. She watched from the safety of Logan's arms, her head under his chin and his iron strength bracketing her, supporting her through the final moments.
The man had a handful of flesh at the woman's hip, kneading roughly as they mated fiercely. His other hand grabbed her throat and he licked her neck, a sensuous path that made Marie shiver. She gasped at the hard bite that followed, her own neck still tender where Logan had put his mouth on her earlier.
The woman's hands scratched at the leather as her voice broke on a rising scream. The man inhaled sharply, pulling in the scent of the woman underneath him as well as the even more alluring scent of the girl watching from the shadows. He bared his teeth, grunting as the woman's body squeezed him in strong, protracted contractions.
Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck. Close. Close now. But he wanted her to see.
The golden man lifted his shaggy head at the last moment and caught Marie's eye, hiding nothing as he came with a primal beastly roar that shook the room, not even remotely human.
His body shuddered, pushing deep as he rutted. He lost himself then, his eyes finally closing as he filled the woman with his seed in hot spurts that left him breathless and weak. Another battle with nature that could not be won.
Up next: Hurts So Good. The aftermath... Come on, baby, make it hurt so good. Sometimes love don't feel like it should. You make it hurt so good...