[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 122: Ruin Me Properly

Chapter 122: Chapter 122: Ruin Me Properly

The palace loomed quieter than usual as the car pulled through the private entrance.

Trevor didn’t wait for the driver. The moment the door opened, he stepped out and circled to the other side, lifting Lucas into his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

No guards. No aides. No staff at all.

Lucas arched a brow as he glanced around the silent hallway. "Did you bribe the entire wing to disappear?"

"I asked for privacy," Trevor said simply. "Windstone made it happen. I don’t ask questions when he’s like that." NovelFire

Lucas didn’t complain. He just let himself be held, the warmth of Trevor’s chest steady against his side, the clean scent of soap and aftershave clinging to his collar. The echo of Trevor’s footsteps rang low against marble floors and silk runners, the hush of the palace corridors swallowing the rest.

The suite they stepped into was high-ceilinged and indulgently quiet, lit by woven lamps that cast golden shadows over linen-covered furniture and gauzy canopies. A bowl of fruit sat untouched on the low table, surrounded by unopened wine and neatly folded silk robes. The large bed at the center was canopied in deep bronze mesh, and the windows had been left ajar, letting in the sound of distant fountains and the steady rhythm of cicadas.

Trevor didn’t set him down right away.

He stood in the middle of the room with Lucas in his arms, the weight of him so natural it almost didn’t register as effort. The summer air curled in through the balcony in soft waves, brushing over bare skin and rustling the edges of the canopy.

Lucas exhaled slowly, his voice low. "Is this still you taking things slow?"

"No," Trevor said, his mouth brushing just under Lucas’s ear. "I’m taking my time to warn you that I will mark you tonight if we continue."

"Just that?" Lucas asked, amused. "I thought it would be obvious."

Trevor finally lowered him onto the sheets, the bronze mesh of the canopy whispered faintly above them, shifting in the breeze from the open windows. Lucas lay back against the pillows, one arm resting behind his head, eyes half-lidded, watching Trevor like he was still deciding whether to tease him or test him.

Trevor sat at the edge of the bed, one hand still at Lucas’s ankle, thumb brushing slow arcs across the inside of his leg.

"Are you sure?" he asked again, quieter this time. "What if there’s knotting?"

Lucas didn’t blink. Didn’t even pretend to be scandalized.

He just looked up at Trevor with that infuriating calm, chin slightly lifted, expression unreadable but for the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Then I hope you brought water. And stamina."

"You know I’d never hurt you," he said, removing Lucas’s shoes. "But I don’t trust myself to stop once I start."

"Then don’t start with lies," Lucas murmured, fingers curling into Trevor’s shirt to pull him closer. "Because I don’t want you to stop either."

He just looked at him, really looked, as if trying to commit every part of Lucas to memory before the rest of the night unraveled. The curve of his mouth, the shape of his throat, the way his breath caught when Trevor’s hand slid just slightly higher on his thigh.

Lucas tugged again, and this time Trevor let himself follow. He kissed him slowly, like they had time, like he didn’t need to prove anything but still couldn’t hold back. Lucas responded with a sound low in his throat, the kind that landed somewhere between heat and surrender, his body already shifting to make space for him.

Trevor’s hands slid under his shirt, his palms hot against Lucas’s skin. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down Lucas’s jaw, his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Lucas’s head fell back, a moan escaping him as Trevor’s teeth grazed his pulse point, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to his core.

His fingers tightened on Trevor’s shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he found Trevor’s mouth and kissed him back with equal fervor—mouth open, breath sharp, all trace of amusement gone.

Trevor groaned softly against his lips, hands sliding down to grip Lucas’s thighs, pulling him flush against him in a single, practiced motion. The friction was immediate and maddening. Lucas gasped into his mouth, hips twitching involuntarily as his body answered before his thoughts could catch up.

Trevor pulled back just enough to speak, forehead pressed to Lucas’s, their breaths tangled in the space between them.

"You smell like you’re ready to beg," he said, his voice hoarse. "Is that what you want?"

Lucas let out a shaky exhale, lips parted, flushed and burning, and so infuriatingly composed. "I want you to stop asking questions you already know the answer to."

Trevor’s laugh was low and frayed, hands moving again, one sliding up under the hem of Lucas’s shirt to trace the sharp line of his waist, the other bracing behind his nape.

"You’ll hate me tomorrow," he murmured, though there was no retreat in his voice. Only reverence. And restraint, so thin it was splintering.

Lucas caught his chin between his fingers, forcing Trevor to look at him fully. "Then ruin me properly tonight."

Trevor’s lips curved into a satisfied smile, and then he was kissing him again, his hands roaming over Lucas’s body with a possessiveness that left him trembling. His fingers found the waistband of Lucas’s pants, tugging them down just enough to expose his hips, and Lucas gasped into his mouth, his hands fisting in Trevor’s hair.

The air between them was thick with the scent of arousal, Trevor’s musk mingling with the sweetness of Lucas’s own slick, and it was almost too much, the way it clouded his senses, made it impossible to think.

Trevor’s fingers dipped lower, brushing against the wetness between Lucas’s legs, and he moaned, his hips bucking into the touch. "So wet for me already," Trevor murmured against his lips, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and desire. "You’re perfect."

Lucas couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but hold on as Trevor’s fingers teased him, circling his entrance before pushing inside. The stretch was just enough to make him gasp, his body clenching around Trevor’s fingers as they moved deeper.

"That’s it," Trevor whispered, his breath hot against Lucas’s ear. "Let me feel you."

Lucas’s head fell back, his eyes fluttering shut as Trevor’s fingers curled inside him, hitting a spot that made him see stars. His hips moved on their own, grinding down on Trevor’s hand as he chased the pleasure building inside him.

"Just like that," Trevor breathed, watching every twitch of Lucas’s body like it was a holy thing. "You’re taking me so well."

Lucas whimpered, the sound half-strangled in his throat. His hands scrambled for something to hold—Trevor’s shoulder, the sheets, anything—because the sensation was relentless, precise, and laced with that aching promise of more. His thighs trembled as Trevor added another finger, stretching him with the kind of care that bordered on cruelty, slow enough to draw it out, firm enough to leave no doubt who was in control.

And Lucas, damn him, loved every second of it.

"Don’t stop," he whispered, breathless. "I can take it."

Trevor’s pupils blew wide, purple swallowed by pitch. "You don’t have to," he said, his voice fraying at the edges. "But Gods, I love that you do."