[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 125: The morning after (1)

Chapter 125: Chapter 125: The morning after (1)

Time passed, but neither of them could have said how much.

The room was quiet now, save for the sound of their breathing slowly evening out. Trevor’s arms remained around him, anchoring them both as the intensity ebbed. Lucas was still stretched around the knot, too full to move, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

His cheek rested against Trevor’s shoulder, skin damp with sweat and flushed with heat. His lashes fluttered against flushed skin, too dazed to speak, too exhausted to lift his head. He could still feel the bite at his nape, throbbing in time with his heartbeat, raw, sore, undeniably real.

Trevor pressed a kiss to the mark, soft and slow.

"I’m here," he whispered, like a promise. "Just breathe."

Lucas’s fingers curled faintly against his chest, not quite a grasp, more a reminder that he was still conscious, still there. His body was boneless against him, limp with the kind of exhaustion that came only after being completely undone. The knot throbbed once, buried deep, and Trevor hissed quietly at the sensation.

He didn’t pull away. Didn’t even try.

Instead, he shifted slightly, just enough to get them closer under the sheets. The movement made Lucas whimper softly, his body tightening in reflex, then trembling again as it subsided.

"Easy," Trevor murmured, brushing his palm down the curve of Lucas’s back. "I’ve got you."

The knot finally began to soften more than twenty minutes after, the tension between them loosening just enough for Trevor to carefully ease out. Lucas gasped at the movement, his entire body flinching with oversensitivity.

"Easy—easy," Trevor soothed, kissing his temple. "I’ve got you."

He pulled back slowly, supporting Lucas’s thighs as he withdrew. There was a faint wet sound, followed by a low, broken moan from Lucas, and then he collapsed back into the pillows, eyes shut, jaw slack. NovelFire

Trevor stayed still for a moment, breathing through the slow, aching pulse of release and the deeper ache that wasn’t physical at all. His hands lingered on Lucas’s thighs, palms splayed over sweat-slick skin, grounding them both through the comedown.

Lucas didn’t speak. He couldn’t, not yet.

There was a heat between them still, not lust anymore, but something rawer, quieter. The kind of heat that settled in the hollow of your chest and didn’t go out. f r\eeNovelFire.c(o)(m)

But reality, slow and cruel, had begun to creep in. Lucas was trembling harder now, the mess between his thighs warm and wet, and only getting worse as gravity did its work. Trevor could feel the way his body tensed every few seconds, too sensitive, too full, the instinct to curl inward fighting the weight of exhaustion.

"Alright," Trevor murmured, more to himself than to Lucas. "Let’s get you cleaned up."

He moved slowly, carefully, as if trying not to wake a sleeping animal—though Lucas was awake, barely. His eyes opened for half a second before slipping shut again, lashes dusting his cheeks like shadows.

Trevor gathered him into his arms, arms hooking under thighs and shoulders, lifting him from the sheets without effort but all the gentleness in the world. Lucas made a sound, more breath than voice, and buried his face against Trevor’s throat.

The slide of slick between his legs was unmistakable. Hot. Humid. Too much. Trevor bit down a groan at the feeling of it soaking between them, leaking out of him in slow, inevitable trails.

His knot was gone, softened fully now, but the evidence of what they’d done clung to Lucas’s thighs, marked him in ways no one else would ever see. Not just blood. Not just come. The bond had taken root. And Trevor’s scent was on him, in him, around him.

He carried him to the bath.

The air was cooler as they left the bed, though not by much. The suite had gone quiet, the heavy silence of deep night or early dawn pressing in around them. Trevor pushed open the bathroom door with his foot, steam already beginning to rise from the waiting tub. Windstone again, probably. Or a miracle. Trevor didn’t care which.

He knelt beside it, lowering Lucas into the water as if he were made of glass. Lucas hissed, barely audible, as the heat hit him, his whole body twitching once before he sagged fully into the warmth.

"Too hot?" Trevor asked, already reaching for the tap.

Lucas shook his head weakly, one arm slipping along the rim of the tub, his breath catching as the water lapped between his thighs.

"No. Just... too everything."

Trevor exhaled through his nose, brushing damp strands of hair from Lucas’s forehead. He dipped a cloth into the water, wrung it out, and began to clean him again—starting with his throat, his collarbones, the mark still red and swollen at his nape. He didn’t speak, didn’t rush. Every touch was measured, reverent.

When he reached lower, Lucas stiffened again, legs twitching apart instinctively as Trevor’s fingers moved between them, parting the mess that still leaked from his body.

"You’re leaking all over me," Trevor said, voice dry with something far too fond.

Lucas’s mouth curled faintly. "Why are you so smug about it? I can feel it in your voice."

Trevor’s lips brushed the shell of his ear, the smile in his voice unmistakable. "Because it means I fucked you so well, you can’t even keep me inside."

Lucas made a sound—indignant, exhausted, somewhere between a scoff and a groan. "You’re unbearable."

"You married me," Trevor murmured, not even pretending to be sorry as he rinsed the cloth and slid it back between Lucas’s thighs, slow and thorough. "You signed the papers and let five bishops witness it."

"Because Serathine threatened them with public excommunication if they didn’t show up within two hours."

Trevor hummed. "Details."

Lucas let his head fall back against Trevor’s shoulder, the curve of his throat still flushed, skin marked in deep reds and purples that wouldn’t fade soon. "Your definition of romance is deeply flawed."

Trevor kissed his temple. "And yet you’re in my lap, leaking proof of it."

Lucas didn’t answer immediately. He was quiet for a moment, his hand dragging lazily down Trevor’s arm until his fingers found his wrist and stayed there, curled around it like an anchor.

"...I like this part," he said softly.

Trevor stilled. "Which?"

Lucas turned his head slightly, enough to look at him. His green eyes were still glazed, heavy-lidded but clearer now, the kind of clarity that only came after everything else had been stripped away.

"This. After," he murmured. "When everything’s quiet. When it’s just you."

Trevor’s throat tightened, his chest rising with a breath that didn’t quite come out whole. He leaned down, pressing their foreheads together.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Lucas nodded once, the motion barely there. "Good. Because if you do, I’m burning your villa."

Trevor let out a quiet, incredulous laugh. "Which one?"

"All of them."

"...God, I love you."