He kissed him again—slower this time, reverent—as if trying to memorize the shape of Lucas's mouth. His free hand cradled the back of his head while his fingers continued their steady rhythm, each curl dragging a broken moan from Lucas's lips.
Trevor's eyes darkened. His hands moving with purpose, unbuttoning Lucas's shirt with practiced ease. He pushed the fabric aside, his mouth following the path his hands had taken, kissing and nipping at the exposed skin of Lucas's chest. His tongue flicked over a nipple, and Lucas cried out, his hips bucking involuntarily. Trevor smiled against his skin, clearly enjoying the power he had over him.
"So sensitive," Trevor murmured, his breath hot against Lucas's skin. He took the nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, then harder, until Lucas was gasping, his fingers tangling in Trevor's hair, pulling him closer.
"Please," Lucas begged, his voice barely a whisper. He didn't even know what he was asking for, just more.
