Page 100 of Lilacs and Leather

“So,” she starts, breathing out a long exhale.

I open my mouth to echo, but her eyes narrow in a glare before I can. I can’t help my chuckle, and my heart unclenches a little.

“Are you okay?” I ask gently.

Lydia shrugs with one shoulder, nodding slowly before stopping and shaking her head. She sniffles again, and it nearly breaks my heart. I nod, understanding her unspoken feelings.

“Can… can you show me how to do that?” she mumbles, not looking me in the face.

“You want to—”

“Punch something? Yeah, kinda. There’s just so much here,” Lydia lets go of my hand to gesture at her chest and stomach, “and I—”

“Need to get it out. Okay, yeah. I can do that,” I finish with an excited smile.

Lydia blushes a light pink, and my heart melts a little. She’s beautiful, even when her eyes are clouded with her past. I guide her to stand between me and the bag, and I take her fists in mine, adjusting her fingers so she won’t break them on impact. She lets me guide her body without protest, and I marvel at how calming the action is. The simple act of moving and breathing together, feeling her shift and twist as I instruct, putty in my hands, centers me, helps me find control of my racing thoughts. I nudge her feet into a proper stance, breathing in her lilac and honey scent. The world falls away as my body towers over hers, and I only feel the heat of her skin under my fingertips as I wrap them gently around her wrist. The pull of my muscles as I guide her arm through the punching motion, showing her how to twist her body to put her weight behind each blow. It takes more effort than I thought it would to step back and let her do it on her own.

She moves slowly, her punches barely shifting the heavy bag at all. But as she falls further down into whatever pit looms inside of her, the punches get harder, and I step behind the bag to brace it and hold it in place. The position allows me to see her face, the way her teeth are clenched and bared as she pants through them, the redness of her cheeks from exertion and the emotions roiling like lava in her eyes.

“That’s it, love. Let it out. You are so strong, so brave,” I encourage, the words falling out before I know what I’m saying.

She doesn’t acknowledge me, but her breathing gets more ragged, her form sloppy as she just pounds on the bag with abandon. Her grunts turn to muffled screams with each impact. I want to stop her, to see if she’s hurt, but she keeps going, getting louder and louder until she’s shrieking at the bag, tears on her face. She only lasts a few moments in that place of rage and pain before going still and slumping forward as her shoulders heave with her labored breathing.

“I hate how much power he still has over me. I can’t escape him, no matter how hard I try. Now you are getting sucked into the shitstorm of my life, and you never asked for this,” Lydia drones between pants.

I step around the bag and pull her into my chest. The sweat on her brow sinks into my shirt, mixing with mine. She doesn’t lift her arms to return the embrace, but I don’t care. I sway gently on the spot, like grass in the breeze. I purr in my chest, deep and soothing as I stroke her hair. She molds to me, letting me just hold her. I feel how deep she breathes, and I try to keep my scent full of calming pheromones for her.

“If I was given the choice, I would, though. I’d choose you every time,” I say, pouring all of my love into the words.

Lydia looks up at me, and the astonishment on her face makes my heart lurch. I lift a hand and cup her face as best I can with my wraps, holding her to keep her eyes locked with mine so she can see how much I mean the words.

“You have so much to worry about, and it’s not fair for me to add all of this extra drama—”

“I don’t care. I will be by your side to weather every storm that the universe can throw at us. I promised to protect you, to show you how truly magnificent you are, and nothing is going to stop me from doing so for as long as you’ll have me.”

I wipe away a stray tear with my thumb as it slides down her face. Lydia has shed too many tears in her life, and I will never stop trying to make her smile. She deserves every good thing life has to offer, and I want to spend every waking moment trying to give them to her.

“I love you, Lydia. I’m so in love with you, and I’m going to spend each day proving to you how deep that love goes.”

Her soft gasp and wide eyes fill my heart to bursting with love and affection. I lean down and press my lips gently to hers, reveling in their softness. I can taste the salt of her sweat, but it only enhances the vanilla and honey flavor that is all her. This beautiful, kind, generous, loving omega in my arms is everything I never thought I’d find. I want to protect her and ravish her, to spoil her and tease her, to give everything I have to offer. When we pull away, she looks up at me with silver lined eyes, but the smile on her face could outshine the sun.

“I love you, too. So much.”

I kiss her again with more heat as her words fill my head, my body, my soul. Her love is a gift I will cherish for as long as I live. I feel her arms finally wrap around my torso, holding me tight as our mouths move together. I walk us back until she’s pressed against the mirror, and I loop my hands under her thighs. She responds to my unspoken command, hopping slightly as I lift, wrapping her legs around my waist as I press my hips forward, pinning her to the wall. Her hands wind into my sweat-damp hair, pulling enough to make me moan into her mouth. When her lips part and her tongue meets mine, I can feel my cock pulse in my shorts, hard after one simple taste of her.

“I love you, Rhett,” Lydia pants into my mouth, hands roaming down my chest to bunch into my shirt.

“I love you,” I echo, fingers digging into the denim shorts covering her thighs.

We’re a tangle of limbs and fabric as we rip and tear at each other, no games, no teasing, just desperate to feel skin on skin. I use my teeth to rip off the wraps on my hands as she flings her shirt away, pushing her bra up just enough to free her perfect breasts. I manage to get one of her legs free of her shorts and panties, and I slide two fingers inside of her dripping slit. Her teeth sink into the bare skin of my shoulder, and I buck forward, driving my hand hard and fast in and out of her channel.

“I need you, please. Rhett, please,” Lydia whimpers, nails scraping down my back as she writhes on my hand.

I only manage to growl, withdrawing my fingers and shoving my shorts and boxers down until my throbbing cock springs free. I press into her slowly, moaning in unison with her as I stretch her tight heat. I kiss her again, rolling my hips and digging my fingers into her hard enough to bruise. She moves with me, hands on my shoulders clutching hard, nails biting my skin. We come together in perfect harmony, our bodies slick with sweat and flushed with desire. I drive into her hard enough that I can hear the mirror starting to crack, but it doesn’t stop me. I need her, need to drown in her lilac and lavender scent.

Our fists let us work through the events of the day, but this is catharsis of a different kind. I show her with my body how I want to worship her, to make her see how special she is to me and my pack. Her moans and whines in my ears push out everything, purging all of the simmering anger and fear until the only thing I know is her. I feel her squeeze and pulse around my cock, both of us rocketing toward our peaks. Her scream of release comes moments before my own roar, and I push deep, driving my seed as far into her as I can.

We stay there for a moment, locked together as close as we can without knotting. Her heels are digging my lower back, her arms tight around my shoulders as she clings to me. I press my forehead to hers, and our eyes slide closed. Our breathing slows, even as my entire body tingles with awareness, each place her skin touches mine warm and sparking.

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