[BL]Reborn as the Empire's Most Desired Omega
Chapter 166: You are mine.

Chapter 166: Chapter 166: You are mine.

Trevor thrived in this, above Lucas, inside him, owning every trembling breath that left his lips.

He was still riding his high, and God, he was riding it well.

Each thrust was precise, well-controlled, and deep enough to make Lucas cry. Trevor didn’t need to chase release, he was the chase. Every sound Lucas made, every flutter of muscle around his cock, and every desperate, glazed-over look thrown upward only fed the smug satisfaction pulsing under his skin.

Trevor shifted, adjusting his grip on Lucas’s hips, grinding in deeper, exactly where it hurt in that perfect way, and Lucas arched, crying out, eyes rolling back.

Trevor chuckled darkly, utterly pleased with himself. "What happened to all that attitude, huh?"

Lucas could only gasp, his voice wrecked. "F-fuck you—"

Trevor leaned down, teeth catching on his jaw, grinning. "Already am, sweetheart."

Another thrust. Deeper. Sharper. Enough to punch the air out of Lucas’s lungs.

"I tell you," Trevor murmured against his neck, "five minutes was me being nice. This? This is me repaying the favor."

Lucas was trembling violently now, undone and oversensitive, his thighs slick with release and sweat, chest heaving like he was drowning in him. His fingers clawed at Trevor’s back, barely keeping up with the pace Trevor was now building.

"I should have taken you apart the moment you straddled me," Trevor went on, his voice a rich, indulgent growl. "But no, I gave you a head start. Let you show off. Let you play."

Lucas could hardly breathe, his body taut, the bond between them pulsing like a live wire. His scent was everywhere, ripe with surrender, desperation, and need, coated over Trevor’s skin, in the sheets, and in him.

"But now?" Trevor growled, fucking into him hard enough to shake the bedframe. "Now you’re mine."

Lucas came again with a scream, shaking apart under him, back arching off the mattress. His body clamped down around Trevor’s cock so tightly it stole the alpha’s breath and for the first time, Trevor’s rhythm broke.

He stilled, panting hard, staring down at Lucas like he was something holy and ruined.

And then he laughed, breathless and a little wild.

"Oh, baby," he said, his voice shaking with the beginnings of his own unraveling. "You are never topping from the bottom again."

And then he started to move again, faster, rougher, as if his own words had finally given him permission to let go.

Trevor lasted longer than he should have.

Even with the way Lucas clenched around him, even with the way he came again, sobbing through the second orgasm like it physically hurt to feel that good. Even with the way the bond pulsed so loud, it drowned out reason. Trevor held on. Because he wanted to feel it. Wanted to own the moment he lost control.

He buried himself to the hilt, grinding deep, and then... he let go.

The knot swelled fast, catching hard at the base, locking them together in a single, brutal push. Trevor groaned, a low, guttural sound dragged from his chest, and came with a shudder that tore through him, pleasure crashing so hard it blacked out everything else.

Lucas cried out under him, wrecked and trembling, his body milking him through every pulse of release. The pressure, the heat, the knot, it was too much. And yet exactly what he needed. He wrapped himself around Trevor like he never wanted to let go.

Trevor collapsed onto his elbows, burying his face in Lucas’s throat, still pulsing inside him, knot tight, heat sealing them together like instinct intended.

And then he didn’t stop.

Because Lucas’s heat wasn’t over.

Not even close.

Trevor stayed locked inside, holding Lucas through the aftershocks, whispering low things into his ear, soft and dark and possessive. Things like "Mine," and "I’ve got you," and "You’re not going anywhere." And when the tight grip around his cock started again, when Lucas’s body began begging for more even as he whined from being too sensitive, Trevor started to move again.

Even knotted. Even full.

Slowly. Grinding deeper than before.

Lucas whimpered, high and broken, but didn’t stop him. Couldn’t.

And Trevor, God, Trevor kept going.

He took his time. He used his mouth, his fingers, and his voice, keeping Lucas on the edge between madness and pleasure. Letting the bond do its work. Letting instinct consume them both. Letting Lucas feel everything.

And when the knot eventually softened and slipped free, when Trevor could move without pain, he pulled out only to flip Lucas onto his side and slide back in.

No hesitation.

No end.

For two days, he stayed inside him.

Brought food to the bed but barely touched it. Let Lucas drink water from his hand between rounds. Held him when he sobbed from overstimulation. Fucked him slow and deep when the waves of heat flared again, when Lucas’s skin burned and his voice turned hoarse from need.

And always, always, Trevor made sure Lucas never felt alone in it.

Because this was his omega.

—

The heat had passed. NovelFire

The sun had slipped low beyond the hills, painting the windows with the last amber blush of evening, and the room, finally quiet, breathed with slow, measured calm. The sheets had been changed. The air cleared. The scent of sweat and slick still lingered faintly beneath the clean linen and steam from the bath, but it no longer clawed at the throat like fire.

Lucas lay against Trevor’s chest, silent, half-asleep but not quite drifting, his body boneless and warm. His hair was damp from the bath, curls clinging to his temples, and his cheek rested over Trevor’s heartbeat like he didn’t intend to move again for the next decade.

Trevor didn’t mind. He kept his arms around him, one hand tracing soft, absent circles into the small of his back. Holding him was easy. Right. After the chaos of the last two days, the stillness felt surreal, earned.

Lucas sighed, shifting slightly. "I can feel my bones again."

Trevor chuckled softly, the sound a low rumble beneath Lucas’s ear. "Good sign."

"I hate you," Lucas mumbled without heat.

"Mm. You’ll forgive me in the morning."

"I already have."

Trevor smiled.

After another few minutes, he eased Lucas back just enough to sit up. The omega made a sleepy noise of protest, but Trevor kissed the top of his head.

"Stay there," he murmured. "I’ll be back."

He padded across the room, still barefoot, opening the door to find a tray, most likely left by Windstone for them. A glass of water and some pills.

Trevor returned to the room, holding the tray, the dim light catching on the rim of the glass as he moved. His steps were quiet and careful, but his gaze never left the bed or Lucas.

In the meantime, Lucas had shifted onto his back, eyes half-lidded, looking at Trevor as if he wasn’t entirely convinced he was real. His cheeks remained flushed, lips parted, and his chest rose with slow, uneven breaths. Damp curls stuck to his forehead, and his skin, gods, his skin, still glowed with that telltale warmth, even if the worst of the heat had passed.

"You’re hovering," Lucas muttered hoarsely, his voice frayed but clear enough to carry the accusation.

Trevor didn’t deny it. "Of course I am."

He set the tray on the nightstand and climbed back onto the bed, one knee on either side of Lucas before leaning over him, just close enough for his presence to sink back into Lucas’s senses.

"There’s water," Trevor said softly, reaching for the glass. "And pills."

Lucas stared at him. "What kind of pills?"

Trevor didn’t flinch. "Birth control."