CHAPTER 431: CHAPTER 431: YOU LOVE IT

Trevor’s voice was a low growl that shook Lucas to his core. He forced his eyes open, meeting the wildfire in Trevor’s violet gaze. The connection was magnetic, an unbroken thread of pure desire.

And then the world spun.

In one fluid motion, Trevor flipped him over onto his stomach. The sheets felt cool against his flushed skin, in stark contrast to the furnace-like heat of Trevor’s body covering his own. Lucas gasped into the pillow, the breath knocked from his lungs, his still-trembling limbs splayed beneath the alpha’s weight.

Trevor’s hands were everywhere at once. One large palm splayed between his shoulder blades, pinning him gently to the mattress. The other smoothed down the curve of his spine, over the swell of his ass, with a possessiveness that made Lucas moan. He nuzzled into the back of Lucas’s neck, inhaling deeply, and the groan that rumbled from his chest was pure need.

"Gods, Lucas. Your scent... it’s driving me out of my mind." His voice was ragged, a harsh whisper against Lucas’s ear.

Lucas could only nod, pressing his forehead into the pillow, his entire body throbbing with a desire he forgot he could feel. The initial shock of being manhandled melted into a pool of molten want.

He felt Trevor shift above him, his weight settling more firmly between his thighs. The blunt, hot head of his cock pressing against Lucas’s slick entrance, not pushing in yet, just resting there, a promise and a threat.

"Please," Lucas begged, the word muffled by the pillow. "Trevor, please..."

With a guttural groan, Trevor thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one long, powerful stroke.

Lucas screamed.

It was a cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The stretch was immense and perfect, filling him in a way he’d been craving for weeks. It burned just enough to be divine, a fleeting pain that was instantly swallowed by a wave of overwhelming pleasure. He was pinned, pounded, and utterly claimed. The feeling of being so completely taken, so thoroughly possessed, unraveled something deep within him.

Trevor held himself still for a moment, buried deep, his body shuddering. "So tight," he choked out, his voice strained with the effort of control. "So perfect. You feel... gods, Lucas..."

He withdrew slowly, almost completely, the drag of his cock drawing another broken moan from Lucas. Then he slammed back in.

And he did not stop.

This was not the careful, measured pace of their last time, when Trevor was painfully caring. This was raw. Primal. Trevor set a punishing rhythm, each powerful thrust jolting Lucas forward on the bed. The sound was obscene and beautiful, the wet slap of skin on skin, their ragged breaths, Lucas’s high, pleading cries mingling with Trevor’s deep, possessive moans.

Lucas clutched at the sheets, his knuckles white, his vision blurring. Every nerve ending was ignited. With each inward stroke, Trevor’s pelvis ground against his ass, sending shocks of pleasure radiating through him. He could feel the strength in Trevor’s thighs as they drove into him, the flex of his abs against his back, and the way his grip on Lucas’s hip tightened, sure to leave bruises.

Trevor leaned over him, his chest plastered to Lucas’s back, his mouth finding the sweat-slicked skin of his shoulder. He bit down with enough force to make Lucas cry out, the sharp pleasure-pain intensifying everything. "Mine," Trevor snarled against his flesh, the word a vow. "You are all mine, Lucas. Every gasp, every moan. It’s all for me."

"Yes!" Lucas sobbed, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, needing him deeper, more. "Yours! Always yours, my love."

The new angle was devastating. Each thrust struck a place inside him that made stars burst behind his eyelids. His own cock, trapped between his stomach and the mattress, ached with a sweet, neglected pressure, leaking onto the sheets with every jolt of Trevor’s hips. The combined scents of their passion, cedar, musk, and sweet honey filled the air with a thick, carnal perfume.

Trevor’s rhythm began to fracture, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. His breath was a hot, ragged gasp in Lucas’s ear. "I can’t... I can’t hold back. You feel too good. You’re gonna make me..."

"Do it," Lucas begged, turning his head to the side, his voice a broken whisper. "Come for me, love."

The words shattered Trevor’s last shred of control. With a roar that was pure possession, he drove into Lucas one final, deep time, his body locking up as he spilled inside him, hot and pulsing. Lucas felt the scalding heat flood him, and the sensation, the sheer intimacy of it, tipped him over the edge mere seconds later. His own orgasm crashed over him, a silent, shuddering wave that wracked his entire body, milking Trevor through his own climax.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their harsh breathing. Trevor collapsed over him, his weight a comforting, heavy blanket, his face buried in Lucas’s neck. They were both slick with sweat, trembling in the aftermath.

Slowly, carefully, Trevor softened and slipped out of him. He rolled to the side, pulling Lucas with him, turning him so they were face-to-face. He didn’t speak. He just looked at him, his violet eyes dark and soft, full of a wonder that stole the air from Lucas’s lungs. He brushed the damp hair from Lucas’s forehead, his thumb stroking his cheekbone.

Trevor’s hand drifted through Lucas’s hair, fingers combing gently through the messy strands, as if to ground them both back into the softness of morning. The heat of their bodies lingered in the sheets, a gentle warmth rather than fire now. The air smelled faintly of cedar and skin and something sweeter, Lucas’s scent, settled and sated.

They lay tangled in the aftermath, facing each other, foreheads occasionally brushing, legs still loosely entwined.

Trevor looked at him like he’d never stopped wanting him. Not even once. Not through the pregnancy, not through the sleepless nights, the tears, or the quiet fears Lucas hadn’t dared voice aloud. That look alone made something in Lucas’s chest ache, stretched so full it almost hurt.

"You’re staring," Lucas said eventually, his voice hoarse from more than sleep.

"I haven’t had the chance," Trevor replied, low and rough. "You’ve been... busy. Brave. Beautiful. And mine."

Lucas rolled his eyes, but his lips curved anyway. "You really can’t help it with the dramatic declarations, can you?"

Trevor gave a half-smile. "You love it."

He did. Gods help him, he did.