Chapter 234: Chapter 234: In your dreams.
Lucas kissed him like he had something to prove. Like the rest of the world could wait, had to wait, because this was his now, his husband, his mate, his insufferably patient alpha with hands too warm and eyes that saw too much.
He felt the heat of Trevor’s skin even through the fabric of his clothes, the strength of him coiled beneath the restraint he wore so well. Trevor tasted like the remnants of tea, black and faintly sweetened, and Lucas pressed in deeper, parting his lips and coaxing him open carefully. A slow nudge of tongue, a soft exhale against Trevor’s cheek.
Trevor responded with a low sound in his throat, pleased and indulgent. One of his hands slid up to cradle the back of Lucas’s head, the other firm at his waist, holding him steady as if Lucas might change his mind and flee the moment things turned serious.
He deepened the kiss until Trevor yielded fully, mouth opening beneath his with that rare, quiet reverence that made Lucas dizzy. And then Trevor’s pheromones came, soft at first, then stronger, lacing the air between them with heat and affection and the thick, amber weight of devotion that could not be faked.
Lucas inhaled sharply, and Trevor’s hand stilled.
The scent had always done something to him. Something rooted and unwilling. It crawled through his chest and threaded into the gaps between thought and feeling, where resistance went to die.
Trevor tilted his head and let Lucas lead.
And Lucas did.
The kiss turned slow again, reverent now, with the unspoken edge of Lucas’s love for this man. His fingers tightened slightly in Trevor’s shirt, and when he pulled back just enough to breathe, their foreheads brushed, eyes half-closed and lips parted as if neither had finished anything, just paused.
"You always do that," Lucas whispered.
Trevor’s thumb brushed across his cheek. "Do what?"
"Make me forget what I was doing."
Trevor smirked faintly. "That’s because I am what you should be doing."
Lucas groaned softly. "Where is the serious Grand Duke that sent essays about the benefits of being single to those trying to marry him?"
Trevor let out a low, amused sound, the kind that stuck around the edges of his words like honey. His hand slipped from Lucas’s cheek to the back of his neck, fingers threading through the soft hair at his nape.
"Buried," he said solemnly, "under layers of commitment, obsession, and a very demanding omega who refuses to let me work in peace."
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "I’m the one trying to work."
"And yet," Trevor murmured, leaning in, his lips grazing the corner of Lucas’s mouth again, "here you are, in my lap, kissing me like you forgot what paper even is."
Lucas exhaled sharply, but it came closer to a laugh than a protest. "You’re the worst."
"I’m your worst," Trevor corrected, completely unrepentant. "Which, as I recall, you signed for willingly in front of five bishops and in front of the Emperor."
Lucas opened his mouth, likely to deliver something biting and smug, something sharp enough to remind Trevor he still had teeth, but he didn’t get the chance.
Trevor moved.
One smooth shift of weight, and Lucas found himself pressed into the couch cushions with Trevor looming above him, his thigh sliding between Lucas’s legs with infuriating ease, his hands braced on either side like he’d done this a thousand times, and still couldn’t get enough.
Lucas’s breath hitched. His spine arched instinctively, his hips caught between retreat and collision, and a flush crawled up his neck faster than his thoughts could chase it.
"I hate you," he muttered, too breathless to sell the threat, one hand curling in Trevor’s shirt as if he might try to push him off. He didn’t.
Trevor smiled, slow and satisfied, the kind of smile that should’ve come with a warning label. "But you love me more."
He dipped his head, his mouth finding the side of Lucas’s jaw, then lower, trailing heat down the column of his throat like it was a path only he knew how to walk.
Lucas sucked in a breath, fingers tightening in fabric, heartbeat skipping in the place where Trevor’s thigh pressed just right. "Trevor..."
"Yes, darling?"
"I swear... Did you at least lock the door?"
"I closed it."
Lucas groaned, half in exasperation, half in something far more dangerous. "That’s not the same thing."
Trevor chuckled against his skin, the sound low and thoroughly unbothered. "Anyone stupid enough to walk in deserves what they see."
"That better not be a policy you apply to state matters."
"It’s a policy I apply to you."
Lucas tried to glare at him, really tried, but it was hard to hold anything resembling indignation when Trevor shifted, thigh pressing closer, mouth brushing just beneath his ear now.
"You’re ridiculous," he hissed, but it came out too soft, too close to a gasp, his hand betraying him completely by sliding up Trevor’s back instead of pushing him away.
Trevor chuckled but didn’t refute the accusation; he moved his hands slowly and pinned Lucas’s wrists above his head, pressing them into the cushions with the ease of a man knowing that Lucas had never had a chance of resisting him in the first place.
Lucas inhaled sharply, the sound catching in his throat as Trevor leaned in again, not kissing him, just hovering, close enough that the heat of his breath against Lucas’s cheek felt like a promise or a dare.
"I should let you go," Trevor murmured, his voice a low drawl now, warm and shameless. "You have work. Deadlines. Reputations to maintain."
"Then do it," Lucas said, breath shallow, throat tight.
Trevor tilted his head slightly, his dark purple eyes glinting with mischief. "Beg me and I might listen."
Lucas narrowed his eyes. "In your dreams."
"Oh, but I don’t dream anymore," Trevor murmured, brushing his lips along the curve of Lucas’s cheek, his hot breath mingling with his mate’s sweet scent. "I have everything I want."