Pleasure and Pain

WARNING: Sexual content, light kink, and bad language.

Due to popular demand Lot makes an early return and her plans for a romantic night with Bran don’t work out as she hoped.

Nine Shillings and Victorian Mistress are also available on Wattpad.

London – 1844

I’d made a miscalculation. I wasn’t immune to them.

After the disaster on Christmas day it seemed a romantic evening was in order. Dinner and the theatre followed by vigorous fucking was the plan. The problem with the plan was it gave Bran’s anxiety all evening to take hold, whispering about what a disappointment he’d be, how it would all go wrong, it would be all his fault and I’d be furious at him. That he got it up at all was impressive.

His nails rasped over the pillows near my head as he tried to hold still. The theory went that if he stopped before climax and took a minute to settle down he could go for longer leading to more fun. Finding Bran’s sensitive spots was fun. A two minute fuck against a bookcase was fun. Lying still with him pressing against me all warm and delicious but untouchable wasn’t fun.

I sighed then cursed myself.

‘I’ve ruined it for you.’ He made to pull away.

I grabbed his arse. ‘You haven’t. It’s… tricky.’ It was a relief I swerved before I said ‘hard’. ‘You should try not touching you. It’s difficult to resist.’

He glanced down then looked at me hesitantly. ‘You think I have the energy to touch myself and keep up with you?’

I laughed. He groaned and hunched over me. He smiled but there was still nervousness in his expression, a joke couldn’t make his anxiety disappear.

‘I want to make you come and know I did that, my Irish stallion,’ I whispered in Irish and shifted against him.

He made a sound so good it increased my sin tally to hear it. ‘You know how to make a stallion gallop…’

I slapped his backside lightly.

He rolled his weight.

I arched against him and my nails dug into his arse. ‘You bloody tease.’

He relaxed a little and a wicked smile played over his lips. Only I got that smile.

I smacked him harder.

He started moving, taking his time. ‘If you want more, give me more.’

I chuckled, enjoying the game, and smacked him again.

My retrocognition threw me the memory Elizabeth’s enjoyment saying she’d beaten Bran. I focused on Bran; the whiskey sharpness of his kisses, the heaviness of his breath, the heat of him inside me.

The memory retreated. He liked ouch with his love but it wasn’t the same.

I caressed one hand up his back and gripped his shoulder, whispering how good he felt, how much I wanted him.

Beatings were humiliation; sometimes he thought he deserved them, but he always feared them and never wanted them. I would never let that happen to him again.

‘You’re safe with me, Bran.’ I held him tight. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you,’ he said, building climax lighting his face with ecstasy. ‘Harder, please.’

I grinned. ‘Only if you promise to come for me.’

He nodded.

I smacked him so hard my palm stung.

Josef walked in.

I pulled the sheets over us; not before he saw Bran, with his naked, slapped arse, in the midst of orgasm. He finished, breathless, trembling and painted red with shame, and looked over his shoulder at Josef.

‘What’re you doing?’ I asked in a surprisingly level tone.

‘What’s a little in flagrante between friends?’ Josef pulled up a chair, sat down and put his feet on the edge of the bed. ‘If Bran can’t finish you I’ll offer my services.’

Bran looked away from him with the soul deep hurt that only a loved one can inflict.

‘Fuck off, Josef.’ I pushed Bran off me and put myself between them with a sheet tucked under my arms.

He leaned to look at Bran. ‘If you ever want any advice on satisfying –‘

‘Shut up.’ I snapped.

The air crackled.

Josef’s relaxed expression flickered. ‘Freyja’s knocking on the back door, you might’ve missed it while you were knocking each other. She’s getting annoyed I won’t let her in.’

‘You’re such an arsehole.’ I got out of bed with a sheet wrapped around me and kicked his feet off the edge.

Bran stayed in bed, one hand shielding his luminous red face. If he hadn’t been naked beneath the sheets he would’ve got up and run out.

‘You are beautiful when you’re furious,’ Josef said with unconcealed awe.

I dug through the discarded clothes for a pair of trousers. ‘Are you trying to make this worse?’ I found a pair under the dress I’d been wearing. ‘Do you have any notion of boundaries?’

He frowned at me as if I’d said something incomprehensible.

‘How dare you come in here to expound your supposed wisdom.’ I put my back to them and pulled my trousers on.

‘To leave a lover unsatisfied is criminal,’ Josef said.

Bran made pained sound that seemed to come from his toes.

‘What the bloody hell do you know about satisfying me?’ I snapped.

His chair creaked when I dropped the sheet to clip my corset into place. ‘There are techniques that –‘

‘That was rhetorical, Josef,’ I said. ‘If it wasn’t the answer would be “nothing”.’

‘You haven’t tried me yet.’

I belted him across the face. Energy crackled between my fingers.

He snarled and grabbed the bedside cabinet. He went very still then blinked and touched his cheek. ‘Why did I do that?’ He stared at Bran who was wilting in shame. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’

Freyja said she was a telepath, she said she could read minds, she never said she only read minds.

‘I’ll bloody kill her.’ I threw open the nearest window and swung out.

I landed on the grass with a soft thump, glowing veins illuminated my bare feet and energy laced round my ankles in a malicious snap, illuminating the garden.

Freyja was leaning against the stone dragon at the bottom of the back steps, cackling. ‘Oh, come on, it was funny.’

I grabbed her by the lapels of her military jacket and smacked her into the dragon.

‘I didn’t make him do anything he didn’t want,’ she said. ‘I see all his desires; the dirty, the dark, and the desperately lonely.’

Energy sparked between us.

She tilted her face towards me. ‘He’s no different from your boy, he just hides it better.’ She hated Josef. I could see it in her eyes, she knew she’d violated him and she didn’t care.

‘If you’re going to abuse your magic look what you’ve done. Did Bran deserve humiliating?’

She blinked. The deep down hurt of being stabbed in the heart by a friend passed over her face.

‘Actions are like dominoes,’ I said. ‘At your age you should know.’ I shoved her away. ‘You’re disgusting.’

She avoided my gaze and smoothed her jacket. ‘You’re not interested in an adventure then?’

‘Come near my family again and I’ll kill you.’

‘You can try,’ she called.

I slammed the door in her face and rested my back against it, my hands shook with the effort of holding the energy in. My claws looked like chips of jet.

I drew on the safe space in my memory, the first morning I lay folded in Bran’s arms. I let the moment of peace fill me and exhaled, letting the energy seep into my core. My claws retracted and melted back to their usual shade.

I hunched over. Something needed to be done to seal the cracks forming in our family.

I had no idea what.

Read more episodes of Nine Shillings here. Or read Lot’s first adventure Victorian Mistress here.

There’s a new episode of Nine Shillings everyday until 20th January.

A Lot and Bran playlist is now available on YouTube, more coming soon.


Published by Jesse

I'm a writer and academic specialising in fantasy fiction and creative writing theory. I'm allergic to pretentiously talking about fiction and aim to be unashamedly ‘commercial’. Surely all fiction is commercial anyway, or what’s the point in publishing it?

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