Page 22 of Nix and Tell

“Who needs tattoos when you have plants?” Violet’s voice trembles slightly, and I realise that she’s unsure about how safe this is.

“They just miss me, is all,” I explain. “I’ve always been a plant magic kind of fae; makes me a real oddity in the nix community.”

Eventually I disentangle myself and we make our way to a key, where I’m able to pull up to the shore, and we can disembark.

It’s quiet out here, warm for March, as if Belenus is smiling down on us himself. It’s the perfect place for a picnic; farming land that’s gone fallow for a season, with a clear area for me to place our picnic blanket. I pull out cushions—nothing but comfort for my Domme—and set out brunch for us both.

“I can see why you didn’t want to spoil the surprise,” says Violet. She’s leaning up against me, sipping a Bellini, crumbs from a croissant all around her mouth and top. I kiss them away, and then let my lips linger.

“It is very pretty here,” I agree. “My parents used to bring me down here when I was a kid, before the gods were back. We’d picnic and pretend that we weren’t weirdly different for reasons that none of us could quite comprehend.”

“You didn’t know you were fae?”

“Being fae didn’t mean anything when there was no magic in the world; we just had a weird allergy to metal, and short tempers. It’s not that I’m grumpy in general, I’m just quick toanger, and keeping conversations short means I’m less likely to lose my temper over something ridiculous.”

“What happens when you lose your temper?” asks Violet carefully. Her eyes shutter, as if remembering something that should have been left far in the past.

“Not a huge amount. I know better than to lose it around other people, although that does mean that I’m more self-critical than my mum likes. A healthy obsession usually helps dissipate the intensity of it all—most of us are obsessed with the river and swimming. For me it was clothing. Natural fibres resonate, and dampen the frustrations.”

There’s relief in her eyes. “I see. That makes sense.”

“Are you alright?” I’m blunt because I’m not sure how else to phrase it, and because I don’t want her to misunderstand my meaning. “Me talking about losing my temper… it felt like you were withdrawing for a moment.”

Her smile is strained. “I had an ex who had a bit of a temper. Nothing physical, just sharp words aimed to wound. I don’t like being reminded of that relationship much.”

16

Violet

It’s been quite some time since I thought about my ex, and it’s not something I wish to dwell on whilst on a date with Chlo.

She looks concerned, as if she’s on the verge of triggering a PTSD response. I’ve done enough therapy that she’s probably safe from that, unless she actually loses her temper and yells at me. But everything she’s said tells me that she’s aware of the impact on other people, and that she mitigates it as far as possible. I think that’s all anyone can really do.

We all mess up sometimes; it’s about learning from that, and not to do it again.

Even so, it makes me realise quite how much I appreciate her, appreciate this. I spent so much time being told that I had to be a sub because ‘bottoms can’t be Dommes’, that I thought it was true. But sex and kink never look the same for every person, much as each individual needs and wants different things from a scene.

I want pleasure, but I also want to look after someone. Guiding Chlo through sex together the previous night broughtme so much joy. Her submission is a gift, even as it ties me up with a beautiful bow. I’d never let anyone hurt her, the way I’d been hurt.

I’m struck by the fierceness of my emotions.

Pulling her down to kiss me, I swallow her concerns and kiss away her worries. I’ve got her and she’s got me.

It’s warm, for March, and she doesn’t protest as I push her jacket from her shoulders, and she bares her neck for me, without me having to utter a single word.

“Do you want me to kiss you here?” I ask.

Chlo makes a noise that’s half yes, half frustration.

“Come on,” I tease. “Use your words.”

She glowers at me, and I see the grumpy, gruff exterior that I’ve been so used to. “Do I have to?”

“How will I know what you want, if you don’t tell me?”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s not annoyed; it’s all in play, and the joy that runs through me is one of pure happiness. I like that we can laugh and tease, all whilst turning each other on.

Her voice drops, and I have to lean forward to catch her words. “Mark me?”

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