Page 28 of Lilacs and Leather
“That’s enough, Lucas. You and I will have a talk when you get home,” Rhett says, tone sharp with no room for disobedience.
Lucas gives me a wink before turning and heading back to the kitchen. Rhett turns to me, and while I can still see the heat in his eyes, his brow is pulled down in concern.
“I’m so sorry for that. Lucas can be…”
“What did he mean by ‘if I want to play’?” I ask, unable to help myself.
Rhett lets out a heavy sigh, giving me a long, searching look. I bite my lower lip, shifting a little in my seat. I look down at the table and see the quarter still sitting next to my place setting, and gently push it across the table. He follows my finger with his eyes, chuckling under his breath as he looks at the coin for a long moment after I’ve pulled my hand back.
“This is hardly something I thought we’d be discussing on our first date, and definitely not in public,” he says, voice low.
I give him a small, encouraging smile. “We can take a drive, talk in the car?” I suggest.
Rhett tilts his head to the side for a moment, considering. Then he nods once, almost to himself, before he pulls his wallet from his pocket and tosses a few bills on the table, more than the meal would have cost. He stands and offers me his hand, and I find it easy now to slide my palm against his. We’re silent on the walk back to the car, and Rhett even ignores Julia as she tries to catch his attention from the hostess station. Rhett’s silence and reluctance to answer my questions has me on edge. What could be so bad that it would be off-limits in public? My nerves grow with every step we take, and I feel wound tighter than a piano by the time we’re pulling out of the parking lot.
Rhett is silent for a long while, and I let him think, staring out the window and watching the city go by. I’m actively fighting my imagination as it tries to spin different explanations for Rhett’s reluctance, and what Lucas could have possibly meant when he talked about “playing.”
“How much do you know about dominance and submission?” Rhett asks at last.
I blink, my thoughts stopping in their tracks. I sag back against the leather seat, trying not to be disappointed. “The usual. Omegas submit to alphas, because they were designed to do so, and their nature makes them crave it. Alphas can force an omega, or any designation really, to obey them with their bark and they expect a certain amount of general deference from others, but especially from omegas. It can be upsetting for an alpha if their commands are ignored or disobeyed,” I explain, tone flat. It was the line my parents fed me my whole life, drilled into me from as far back as I can remember.
Rhett lets out a startled bark of laughter, making me jump a little. “We’re going to put a pin in that, because we do not have time to unpack that archaic bullshit. I meant, how much do you know about dominance and submission in the bedroom? As part of a sexual relationship?”
My head whips around, my cheeks flaming with sudden heat. “Um… like whips and chains and all that?” I stutter, unable to ignore the rush of wetness between my legs as my mind runs away from me.
Images of Rhett above me, my hands bound tight as he wrings pleasure from my helpless body, flash in my mind’s eye. I want to reject the idea outright, but the mere thought of being at Rhett’s mercy has my body buzzing. My mind stops short at the idea of being in that position, helpless and unable to escape, the panic flooding my system effectively making my fantasy fizzle out.
“It can be, but that’s more window dressing than substance. At its heart, it’s about a power exchange between the dominant and submissive. The submissive agrees to obey their dominant and, in exchange, the dominant provides rewards for good behavior. It’s not always sexual, with some dynamics being more about providing a structured environment and discipline with no sex involved at all. But the intimate power exchange during sex is something certain people find arousing,” Rhett explains, his tone even.
“So, the submissive has to do whatever the dominant wants?” I ask incredulously, trying not to feel disappointed my fears were correct.
But Rhett’s next words derail my thought spiral. “Oh, God, no. Limits are negotiated before a dynamic is established, sometimes formally with written agreements, other times with just a simple discussion. But all play is predicated on those limits, and those can change over time. It’s all about communication.”
“So… the submissive can tell their partner no? That’s allowed?”
Rhett’s eyes snap to me, concern pulling his face into a frown. He looks back to the road, swallowing hard.
“Absolutely. And the dominant can tell their submissive no, too. The game only works if all parties are playing by the same rules, or else someone could get hurt. Continual, enthusiastic consent should be the foundation for any relationship, but it’s especially important in a dynamic. The submissive is putting their body and mind in the hands of their dominant, and that isn’t something that should be done lightly, or be taken for granted,” he explains.
I nod, looking down to where my hands are clasped tight in my lap. His words are so simple, almost bordering on common sense, but they still rock me to my core. The concept of consent isn’t foreign, but to have a man, analpha,be so insistent about it does something to me. My heart flutters, stomach doing a jig to match. There’s a warmth in my core, a feeling of peace and safety that catches me off guard with its strength.
Rhett pulls into a well-lit parking lot near a park. The sun set a little while ago, and the last of the light is fading. He shuts the car off and turns in his seat to look at me. I glance at him through my lashes, head bowed slightly. I wring my hands in my lap, waiting for him to speak.
“Lucas was out of line to bring this up tonight, Lydia, and I cannot apologize enough for it. I’ll admit that being with you, talking with you, feels as easy as breathing, but I have to remind myself you barely know me. And the things we would need to discuss in order to have an informed conversation about limits can be unpleasant, especially if you’ve been through trauma in your past,” Rhett says, his voice low, the car filling with the soothing scent of old paper and ink.
I relax a little, taking a deep breath. He’s right; it feels like I’ve known Rhett for years, but we’ve only had a few conversations. I feel a little ache in my shoulder, and I reach up to lay my hand on the mark there that feels like a brand under his inspection. Yeah, I’m definitely not ready to explainthatyet. I nod a little, turning my head to look at him fully.
“But you want to have that discussion with me?” I ask softly.
Rhett inhales sharply, his eyes going wide. I see the blush coloring his cheekbones as he looks away from me for a moment. “When the time is right, and you feel you’re ready. I don’t want to rush you into anything,” he says, almost like he’s talking more to himself than to me.
“I know, and I really appreciate that. But I can’t say my interest isn’t the slightest bit piqued,” I say with a small giggle.
He looks back at me for a long moment before a sly grin spreads across his face. “Oh, is it now? Which part are you interested in, love?” he asks, his voice husky.
My mouth goes dry as the smell of whiskey fills the car. I take a shaky breath, trying to focus. “Rewards, pleasurable ones, especially,” I whisper.
“Hmm, well you should know, only good girls get rewards,” he says, voice dropping by nearly a full octave.