Page 64 of Lilacs and Leather

“Your safety is my primary concern, inside the bedroom and out. I will keep you safe and do everything I can to prevent issues before they can happen. But I never want you to feel that you can’t tell me when something is upsetting you. Your safe words are there for a reason, love. I will never, ever be mad with you for enforcing your limits and boundaries,” I declare, speaking with all of the emotion I can feel swirling in my chest.

Lydia’s little gasp, the way her eyes shine with unshed tears has me wanting to hold her, but I wait to see what she’ll do. To my genuine relief, she smiles and nods in understanding, squeezing my hands slightly.

“Can I try now? Tell you what I don’t want?” she asks, almost whispering.

I nod. “Of course. Fire away.”

She settles her shoulders again, and I love the way she does that, like she’s readying for battle. Little does she know that I never want to fight her.

“I don’t want you to call me mean names or spit on me. I wasn’t kidding when I said that I get physically ill whenever I see someone else’s saliva. And no bites that break the skin,” she starts.

“Understood. Anything else?” I prompt.

She hesitates, but I tighten my grip on her hands in encouragement.

“I don’t want you to knot me without asking. Or unless I ask for it. If that’s okay,” she says, the end of her sentence lifting in a question.

“Absolutely. Are you on birth control?” I ask, trying to keep her from shutting down.

She nods. “I have the implant, but I’d like us to use condoms as well.”

“Would you be opposed to going without at some point in the future?” I ask, deciding to push my luck while she’s being so open.

Lydia chews on the inside of lower lips and tilts her head to the side for a moment. It means the world that she’s not rejecting the idea outright but giving it consideration. After a moment, she nods.

“I want us to get tested, just to be safe,” she says.

I nod. “Lucas is my only other partner. He and Lex play at a club every once in a blue moon, and getting tested regularly is part of their membership contract, but I’ll get him to get another one so there’s no doubt that he’s clean.”

“Do you think Mateo would be okay with it, if I asked?” Lydia returns, voice full of curiosity.

I huff a laugh. “Love, I’m pretty sure that if you asked him to jump off a bridge, his only question would be ‘which one?’”

Lydia giggles and the sound makes my stomach flutter. God, the things this woman does to me, and she has no idea.

“We can make a double date of it. A quick stop at the clinic, then we can catch dinner and a movie,” she teases, rolling her eyes.

I laugh with her, and her smile is soft again. We are quiet for a long moment, and I get lost in the color of her eyes. Emerald, but with flecks of moss green and even seafoam in places. Her pupils widen the longer we stare, and her scent drifts toward me, rain and honey and vanilla calling to my soul. There would be time to discuss other things, but the pull between is nearly undeniable. Her tongue darts out to trace along her lips, and I follow the movement, sucking in a deep breath. I’m done making excuses. I drag my eyes away from her mouth, setting my face into a playful smirk.

“Do you still want this?” I whisper.

She nods without hesitation, sitting up straight again. I close my eyes, tilting my head to each side before getting to my feet and dropping my hold on her hands. When I open my eyes, Lydia is looking up at me, eyes bright with anticipation.

“When we play, you will call me ‘sir.’ Do you understand, little one?” I ask, voice husky.

“Yes, sir,” she breathes, and damn it if that doesn’t set my cock to throbbing.

“What are your safe words?” I prompt, fingers flexing at my sides.

Lydia swallows hard, and her next breath is shaky. “Green is good, yellow to slow down, red to stop. Sir.”

I chuckle at her hasty addition, leaning down until I’m nearly nose to nose with her, my arm braced on the back of her chair. I can see Lydia’s pulse jumping in the vein on her throat, and I want to sink my teeth into it. I drag my eyes back to her with deliberate slowness, enjoying the tremble in her breathing the longer I’m silent. When my eyes meet hers again, there’s only a sliver of green left around the black of her blown-out pupils.

“Last chance, Lydia. Are you ready?” I whisper, pressing forward until my lips brush against hers as I speak.

“Yes, sir. Please.”

The desperation in her little squeak makes me purr deep in my chest. The air between us practically crackles with tension, a bowstring pulled taught, arrow ready to fly. I revel in it for one last moment, the calm before the storm.