His prize wasn't going anywhere.
Lucas was gasping now, every breath sharper than the last, body twitching under Trevor's touch like it didn't know whether to flee or surrender. But Trevor knew. He always knew. And the truth of it was scrawled across every inch of the omega in heat beneath him.
Trevor's hand returned to the waistband of Lucas's pants, dragging them lower this time with exquisite slowness, the fabric clinging to overheated skin before it peeled away. He made no comment at the sight of him, slick and hard, thighs shaking from the pressure of his own denied need.
Trevor leaned down, breath hot against Lucas's ear. "Bless your heart," he whispered, mocking and reverent all at once. "You still think you had control."
