[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 110: Peach Tea and Pheromones

Chapter 110: Chapter 110: Peach Tea and Pheromones

Trevor entered the suite Dax had prepared for him and Lucas without knocking.

It was late morning, the sunlight already pouring through the tall windows in gentle gold. The curtains were open, spilling warmth across the marble floors and catching on the edges of the pale sheets. The air smelled faintly of citrus soap and paper—Lucas’s usual calm chaos.

Soft music drifted from the speaker near the balcony—one of Lucas’s picks, something piano-heavy and strangely soothing, the kind that always made Trevor think of memories that refused to bleed. NovelFire

Lucas was in bed, not asleep as Trevor had assumed. He sat tucked beneath the sheets, hair still damp from a recent bath and swept to one side, a digital agenda resting lightly against his knees. Windstone must have scanned his morning notes and formatted them digitally so Lucas could write as he remembered, not worry about structure or timelines.

Trevor lingered in the doorway for a moment. Lucas’s eyes moved steadily across the screen, stylus tapping against the surface once, pausing. He didn’t glance up at the sound of the door.

"You should be resting," Trevor said softly as he crossed the threshold.

Lucas raised his gaze to the alpha and smiled faintly. "I thought I was. But apparently, writing counts as sin now."

Trevor’s steps slowed for half a breath. "Windstone would agree with that statement. And he scares me."

Lucas’s lips curved wider, just slightly.

Trevor discarded his coat on a nearby chair and opened his shirt collar, his ring shining in the light of the room.

He crossed the room without another word.

He leaned over the bed, one hand braced beside Lucas’s pillow, the other brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. Lucas watched him, his red lips slightly open, his scent just a little stronger than before; it was so faint that most of the alphas wouldn’t notice it, but he did, and Gods, it was temptation incarnate. Trevor leaned lower, brushing his lips over Lucas’s, sensing the tremble in them.

Trevor deepened the kiss by a fraction, slow and steady. His fingers skimmed the edge of Lucas’s jaw, his thumb tracing the curve beneath his lip as if he was trying to memorize him by feel alone.

Lucas’s eyes fluttered once before they stayed closed, lashes brushing his cheeks, his hand tightening around the agenda in his lap for half a breath before letting it fall to the side.

Trevor’s tongue traced the curve of Lucas’s lower lip, slow and steady, savoring the quiet invitation.

Lucas sighed—barely a sound—and parted his mouth, letting him in.

The kiss deepened, unhurried but certain. Trevor’s hands moved from the pillow to Lucas’s waist, anchoring them both as their tongues met and tangled. Lucas tasted like peach iced tea—soft, sweet, and impossible to forget. The flavor clung to him, delicate and warm, like summer caught between their mouths.

Lucas shifted beneath him, just slightly. The sheets rustled as his legs parted a little more, the quiet, unconscious invitation stirring something deeper in Trevor. The alpha moved with careful control, sliding one knee between Lucas’s legs, the press of it gentle but unmistakable.

Lucas’s fingers curled into the fabric of Trevor’s shirt, steadying himself as he tried to keep pace with him. His breath hitched once against Trevor’s mouth, barely audible, but Trevor caught it. Every part of him caught it.

He didn’t move further, not yet. Just stayed like that—kiss slow, body close, heart louder than it should’ve been. One of his hands slipped under the parting bathrobe , fingers brushing against the warm skin of his waist. NovelFire

Trevor’s voice came low against his lips, ragged with restraint. "If you keep looking at me like that, I won’t be able to pretend I have any control left."

Lucas’s eyes opened slowly, lashes still heavy. "Who asked you to pretend?"

Trevor hummed in response, low and deep in his throat, and tugged at one end of the bathrobe’s knot. It loosened easily beneath his fingers. His pheromones unfurled in gentle waves—warm, grounding, possessive in a way that made Lucas’s breath catch.

He leaned in to kiss the edge of Lucas’s jaw, slow and reverent, his mouth barely grazing skin as his hands slid beneath the parted robe. They found the curve of Lucas’s back, the dip of his waist, pulling him flush against his chest. His nose buried into the crook of Lucas’s neck, inhaling the scent that had haunted his thoughts since the moment he first caught it.

Lucas tilted his head again, lips parted, ready—aching—for the next kiss.

But before Trevor could move, before his mouth could claim his again, the sharp vibration of his phone buzzing.

The phone buzzed once—sharp and sudden, cutting through the haze of warmth and pheromones like a blade. Trevor groaned softly against Lucas’s neck, his hand still cupping the curve of his waist, robe half-opened and scent pouring out in slow, cruel waves.

"Ignore it," Lucas whispered, his voice low and drowsy with want.

"I want to," Trevor muttered against his skin, but the second buzz came, then a third—short, coded vibrations that meant priority. Not optional.

With a reluctant sigh, Trevor pulled back just enough to fish the phone from his pocket, still holding Lucas with one arm. He glanced at the screen. His jaw tensed.

Lucas caught the shift. "Who is it?"

Trevor brushed a kiss against his forehead before answering. "Dax."

He swiped to pick it up. "What is it?"

"What a warm greeting," Dax drawled. "I hope you didn’t forget about our meeting in... about five minutes?"

"I did."

"I thought so." There was a pause, then a shift in Dax’s tone—subtle, but weighted. "The guards are waiting with news. Especially about our friend, Luna."

Trevor’s jaw tensed.

He didn’t reply immediately, just turned slightly, gaze flicking to the open window, as if gauging the wind—or calculating the next move.

"I’m on my way," he said finally, voice clipped.

"Good," Dax said smoothly. "I’d hate to have to clean up without you."

The call ended with a soft click.

Lucas looked up from the tablet again, brows narrowing faintly. "You’re tense."

"Only a little," Trevor said, his voice already steadier. "I would very much like to remain here and finish what we started, but it seems like someone made a move already."

"Already?" Lucas shifted upright, adjusting the sheets around his waist. "Do you want me to go with you?"

Trevor was already slipping his coat back on, but he paused to look at him. "No. Rest here. I’ll be back shortly. There’s no point in letting them know what you are—or what you know. Let them think we were just lucky."

Lucas’s eyes softened, a flicker of understanding passing through them. "Alright."

Trevor moved to the edge of the bed, leaned down one last time, and kissed the corner of Lucas’s mouth—brief, but grounding. "Don’t leave the bed."

Lucas gave him a mock salute with the stylus. "As long as Windstone doesn’t start treating me like a hostage."

"He only does it if I tell him to," Trevor said with a faint grin. "And because he enjoys it."