Page 13 of Never Nix Up

She kisses me first, and that contact feels grounding, anchoring. And then she’s kissing across my jaw and down my neck and down down down until she can take my nipple in her mouth, just as she promised.

I almost arch off the bed entirely and her laughter is a caress.

“You okay there, baby?”

“Uh huh.” I can’t speak much, don’t want to speak much, to burst the delightful bubbles she’s put me in.

Her fingers touch me next, quickstepping across my skin in a pattern that I can’t predict. Darting here and there, stroking my sides and my breasts and my belly.

It tickles and I laugh, and feel the jiggle reverberate through my body, and the groan she emits is unbelievably satisfying.

“How you could have thought that I’d ever want you to change… I’m obsessed with you,” she says, and her words buffeting against my bellybutton as she kisses her way across my stomach. “Fuck you’re gorgeous, baby.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, smiling my pleasure in what Ithinkis her direction. My arms are by my sides; I’m not entirely certain what I should be doing with them, but when her cheek grazes against my hand, I reach out and run my fingers through shorn hair. There’s a rumbling noise, as if she’s purring, and I bury them a little deeper.

“You have bewitched me,” she whispers, and her face is suddenly up near mine. She moves so close that I can feel her eyelashes fluttering against my cheek.

“Considering you’re the fae, that’s a pretty impressive effort on my part,” I joke.

But all jokes still when she spreads my legs.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” She’s laughing again, and it still feels like a caress. “Would you like me to stop?”

“Did I say red?” I know I’m sounding sassy now, but I don’t care. I feel playful.

“Oh you’re a traffic lights girl, huh? I figured we’d just say stop when we wanted to stop.”

“We can do that, but I don’t think I’m going to want to stop.” I reach up and pull her down until I feeling the buckle on her belt grind against my clit. “Don’t stop, Finn.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself, baby,” she says and pulls away.

I feel the absence of her acutely, cold air where she’d been warm against me before. Tentatively, I reach out, and she catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“Patience, baby girl. I’m getting undressed, and I’m getting my paints.”

In the headiness of her touch, I’d forgotten about her promise to paint me. I’m excited and nervous all at once. I’m usually the painter, the artist, but tonight I’m the canvas and Finn is using me however she wants.

12

Finn

Even as I undress, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She feels completely self-assured, comfortable in her body in a way that has me envious. I keep touching her, stroking her skin, following the undulations of her curves over the swell of her belly and towards her thick thighs. And blonde curls, nestled between her legs. I hadn’t known she was blonde. To me she will always be the pink-haired angel who came floating into my bakery, looking as if she wanted to hide away from the world.

Her hair spills out around her now, like a halo. I managed to tie the blindfold under the waves of her curls, so it doesn’t disturb the peaceful model she makes. If she were a red-head, I’d feel like Titian, about to create a great canvas.

I’m more nervous than I expected. Kink, I’ve got, but bringing art into it? Hazel is an actual artist, and a very talented one, and whatever swirls of colour that I’ll daub on her skin won’t even come close to her skill. But I have to remind myself that it’s not about that.

Every time I play with someone–do a kink scene with someone–I like to think about what I’m trying to achieve. With Hazel, here in this moment, that is very clear. I’m trying to bring her peace and pleasure.

That’s part of why I’ve blindfolded her. When you can’t see what’s going to happen next, you can’t control it, or decide how you’re going to react. It places you very firmly in your body, experiencing being present in a very unique way. And from what she’s been saying about her life working for Trisantona, it seems as if she hasn’t been able to reach that space for a while.

That’s what I want for her.

It’s a little selfish too, though. Because when I trace a path across her skin with the paintbrush, her whole body trembles. And that almost undoes me. I’m barely paying attention to the colours that I’m using, just focusing on the areas that make her tremble the most: the sides of her breasts, the tops of her thighs, and the area between her stomach and her clit. That makes her almost keen, the sound shocking both of us into laughter.

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