Page 29 of Nix and Tell

“I’m a nix, darling,” I say. “I don’t need to come up for air,” and then I prove it again by kissing her for as long as she’ll let me.

Her lips are soft beneath mine, and she melts in my arms. We press against each other, shoulders submerged, hair wet, and not for the first time, I’m a little relieved that we both have shorter hair. It’s easier to control in moments like this.

“We should do it now,” she whispers, and I nod my agreement. We’re facing in the direction of Wyrten Bridge, in the direction of Trisantona and the church, and that’s deliberate.Because we’re about to have a conversation of sorts. “This is for you,” says Violet. Her words resonate, reverberate across the water, and the tide ripples away from us, until we’re in the centre of hundreds of circles that stretch out as far as either of us can see. “This is for you Trisantona. Because you deserve your river to be a source of joy, not sadness.”

“This is for you,” I echo, before adding, “though that’s not an invitation to come join us, or be some kind of voyeur. Just take the energy, please.”

That makes Violet laugh, but she presses a hard kiss against my lips. “You heard my girl, Trisantona. Take what we offer, but nothing more.”

There’s a rush amongst the trees and all those circles collapse back inwards until it feels like we’re in a whirlpool, being pulled together tighter and tighter.Thank you, the river seems to say.

She’s heard us.

22

Violet

The water isn’t as cold as I first thought, which I suspect may be Trisantona’s doing. There’s no point us dying of hyperthermia in her river and ruining this whole grand gesture thing. It feels warm, almost as if heated, and when I lean back and kick away from Chlo, she catches my ankle and hauls me back towards her.

My girl is so beautiful, standing her, in her element. The plants keep trying to cover her, to clothes her with their fronds, and I push them away with a stern “No.”

“No?”

“No, Chlo. I want to see all of you.” She flushes prettily at that, all the way down to her toes—which I know because I can see all of her. This river is clear as glass, and I don’t know if it’s Trisantona’s magic, or the liquid that I’ve poured into it, but everything is vibrant.

I feel like Judy Garland inThe Wizard of Oz. I’m gone over the rainbow and now I see the world in glorious technicolour.

Chlo’s hair is short, but when it’s wet like this, I can run my fingers through it, tightening them at the base of her skull until she hisses and her head falls to one side.

“That’s it,” I whisper. “Just like that, my good girl.”

That makes her moan, and I lean down and bite her neck. This time I don’t even bother with suction; it’s a claiming, pure and simple, and she gives herself to me completely.

When I pull back, she meets my eyes and her pupils are the exact green of the starwort in the river around us. “More,” she pleads, and my cunt clenches in response. “I need more.”

With my hand, I guide her closer to me, floating through the water, and tug gently at her hair until she gets my hint and leans back. She floats atop the water, small ripples lapping over her body, over her belly, and I want to decorate her body with the prettiest pink bitemarks, from head to toe, but not now.

Now we have a purpose, this has a purpose, that goes beyond sex or kink.

“Are you ready, my love?” The endearment slips out before I can catch it, but it doesn’t matter because I know that it is true, and she, too, hears the truth in it.

“Yes.”

I run my hands across her body, teasing her nipples, and the trace a path to where water pools in her navel. One kiss there, and then lower and lower until I’m stroking the top of her mound.

“Spread your legs for me.”

Her eyes are closed now, and she’s drifting into subspace, just as she’s drifting on the river. I’ve got her though.

I’m her anchor.

She spreads her legs silently, and I position myself between them. Her clit, pink and hard is peeking out from behind her dark curls, and as I caress her, she moans. “That’s it, I’ve got you.”

And then I’m stroking down towards her entrance andfuckshe’s wet—and not just from the river. Two fingers slip inside her without the slightest bit of resistance, and then I add a third, and then a fourth until she’s so full I can feel her pussy clenching around my fingers.

She’s tight and hot and feels so good I groan myself, rubbing my thighs together for some sweet sweet friction.

“More,” she says, and I laugh.

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