Chapter 3
BECKETT
The duch gasped, his lips parting under Beckett’s. Beckett didn’t kiss him, not properly. The duch had been chewing on his lips, probably to keep back his keening cries, as well as not getting himself the water he needed.
Gods. These fancy folk. Some of them were so soft, they didn’t have the wits to take care of themselves. It was a good thing Beckett knew how.
He brushed his lips softly back and forth, back and forth, even as he wondered why he was bothering.
When he kissed Jack it was a meeting of equals, in physical power if not in status. He might be a footman and Jack a duke, but he was as much alpha as Jack was. You couldn’t take that away from him, at least.
When he kissed Jack, it was a mighty, arousing clash. Teeth clicked, tongues thrust, hands grappled. He loved it. He loved the feel of Jack trying to dominate him. Trying. Jack felt the same. He’d told Beckett so, when they first began.
“Good,” he’d said, laughing into Beckett’s mouth as Beckett snapped at him, almost drawing blood. “Good. I like a tussle.”
They both liked a tussle.
The duch…Beckett’s weight rested on the slender body, pressing it into the dense mattress, and he moved over him in one long, slow ripple…the omega, now. You couldn’t snap at a man like this.
He’d wet himself, and not in the fun way.
Beckett continued the soft brushing, back and forth. His lips quirked with amusement when the omega hummed, like a little bee. It was a sweet buzz of sound. Oh? Liked it, did he?
Beckett flicked out his tongue. Instead of the lewd stripe he’d licked earlier, he touched it gently to the omega’s bottom lip. Once, twice. Coaxing touches, wondering if—ah.
There it was.
The omega’s hands, which had been balled into fists and held either side of his head, unfurled. One slid under the heavy fall of Beckett’s hair, curling over his nape. Beckett pulled back sharply, snatching the wrist and slamming it down to the mattress. He gave the omega a warning look.
The omega’s face was bright red. He dropped his gaze from Beckett’s without even pretending to fight. His hands were in tense fists again, and Beckett scowled. The fine tendons in the omega’s wrists fluttered. He didn’t try to pull away.
There wasn’t any point, after all.
Beckett drew first one then the other of the omega’s arms down and draped them carelessly around his waist. He went back to grazing his mouth over the omega’s.
It still wasn’t quite kissing. It would be in a moment.
He was enjoying the plump, wet heat beneath his own lips. He’d move on when he was ready.
(Soon, soon. Need was rising at the base of his spine. Soon.)
The omega’s hands unfurled again, and flattened on Beckett’s sides. Tentatively, he slid his fingers upward in a light stroke.
Beckett flexed, rewarding him by taking his bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a soft suck.
The omega moaned, drawing all the hairs on Beckett’s body up. He grunted in response, and rolled his hips firmly against the omega’s.
The omega’s hands coasted down his sides and in, to rest shyly at the small of his back, right over the spot where Beckett’s need coiled tight.
The light touch was exploratory. There was something hesitant and wondering in it, and Beckett scowled. The omega made a worried noise. Beckett’s eyes snapped open and looked directly into the omega’s which were fixed on his face.
The little thing did his best to maintain eye contact. Beckett ducked down for another of those lewd, pushy licks over his hot, sore mouth and that did it. The omega tipped his head back, mouth falling open, eyes shutting, and why not? Beckett slid his tongue in and along the omega’s.
The omega’s hands went to his buttocks and dug in. Like kitten claws, Beckett thought with amusement.
He’d prefer to be amused by the duch than discover things like he wasn’t smart enough to get himself water when he needed it, like he clearly hadn’t even had a man on top of him before, like he was amazed at the feel of hot naked skin and muscle, and he was old to be discovering this. Years older than Beckett!
Why didn’t he know what it was like already?
Beckett ground his hips into the omega’s, waiting for him to yield a bit, for his legs to fall open.
If this was Jack, now, he’d enjoy cranking Jack’s legs open, shoving up hard against him, forcing their shafts together and rubbing off on him furiously, but this wasn’t Jack, who could take it, who would welcome it. No. He didn’t want to bruise the duch. He, Beckett, was better than that.
Even though it was a while since he’d even thought about being with anyone other than an alpha. Than Jack.
He’d had two omegas, and both of them had been saucy things, needy and revelling in it, loudly demanding Beckett tend to them. They definitely had not been in heat.
This was new. He’d never had anyone in heat. He hadn’t ever wanted it.
It didn’t sit right with him, at the end of the day. Yes, he wanted someone begging for him, he liked to make someone desperate. Once upon a time, he liked to overwhelm the man he was with, though that was in the past. He couldn’t overwhelm Jack on his best day. No one could.
Beckett wanted the man he was with to beg for him.
Him, not for any alpha.
This little duch? He was so shy and clearly sheltered, he wouldn’t give Beckett a second look, if he wasn’t out of his mind on hormones.
That’s not true, a quiet voice whispered deep inside. He’s been looking. You know he’s been looking at you. You’ve sensed him there, hiding from you. Watching you. Wondering about you, about his husband’s lover. You know Jack would have told him about you. He’s done more than wonder.
He’s been wanting you.
Ignoring the voice, Beckett kissed deeper.
Harder. The omega’s breath puffed out of his nose, striking Beckett’s cheeks.
Beckett dragged heavy lids open to check, to make sure—yes.
The omega’s eyes were closed. Beckett paused and drew back.
The omega was…he was the worst kisser Beckett had ever had, but bless, he was trying, wasn’t he? Concentrating.
Small hands were busily kneading Beckett’s buttocks. The touch was soft. Gentle. His brows, many shades darker than the pale russet of his untidy mop, were pinched together in a little scowl of his own. It was adorable.
Beckett caught himself on the thought, grimaced, and that was when the omega had to go and open his eyes, wasn’t it?
He took one look at Beckett’s self-directed disdain, and he flinched. Those ridiculously large eyes filled with moisture and the tip of his sharp nose turned a brighter pink than the rest of him, which took some doing. He glanced away, hands lifting from Beckett’s body.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry, I—”
Beckett squeezed the air out of him and stopped his babbling by reaching behind himself, grabbing the duch’s hands, and smacking them back onto his arse. He raised a brow.
“Oh,” the duch breathed. “Um.” Dutifully—respectfully, Beckett thought with a smile—he patted his buttocks. “Oh,” the duch said again, blinking at Beckett and smiling back. “You’re beautiful.”
Beckett’s smile vanished and he glared at the duch. He didn’t want compliments.
The duch’s face fell.
Beckett didn’t care. He didn’t.
The duch started up with that fretful kneading again. Beckett tilted his head and stared down at his face, trying to understand why Jack had tied himself to this man, above all.
As far as Beckett was concerned, Jack could have anyone in the entire kingdom he wanted.
And he chose this man.
He was so delicate. It scraped at Beckett somehow. The way his eyebrows winged gracefully over those big, shimmering eyes. Not like Beckett’s thick brows and normal-sized eyes.
The way his collarbones stood sharp and elegant above his narrow chest, which was flat with only the slightest layer of muscle on it. Not like Beckett’s sturdy build and thick pecs.
Built like a carthorse, Beckett was. Heard it often enough.
And look at his little dick.
Beckett rocked into him roughly, knocking out his breath.
Could barely feel the thing against his own. Beckett might as well rub off against the mattress. The omega didn’t even need to be there.
Maybe it wasn’t a mystery that the omega bothered him.
He was Beckett’s opposite in every way.
And Jack still wanted him. Jack chose him.
Beckett leaned down and nipped at the omega’s lips, making him gasp.
As soon as he opened his mouth, Beckett drove inside.
He was rude about it this time. He flickered his tongue over the omega’s, drew back and held his jaw as he lapped into the open, panting mouth as if he’d never even heard of the concept of manners.
If the omega wanted manners, then he should have waited for…
Actually, no. Fuck, no.
Jack would be worse.
Perhaps Beckett was the better option for his first time, his first heat, after all.
The duch panted beneath Beckett now as Beckett devoured him with kisses and moved harshly against him.
With effort that had his limbs trembling, Beckett slowed down. He blinked sweat out of his eyes and tried to look around, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the omega beneath him. He couldn’t see anything but him.
Tunnel vision. He’d heard of it. Never had it before.
Because he wanted Jack, but right now, like it or not, he needed this man.
Beckett hushed him gently and eased some of his weight off, giving him space. He’d been grinding into him as if he was Jack.
While Beckett was still angry at the omega’s very existence, coming here and messing up Beckett’s life, he didn’t want to hurt him.
“Shhh,” he said, licking up the tears on the duch’s sweet face. “Shhh.”
The duch’s hands opened and closed on his back. He’d stopped stroking Beckett and was pulling at him, trying to get him closer even as he turned his head away.
Beckett rested a palm against his cheek and held him steady, looking down into his eyes.
The duch managed to return his intense stare, which was more than Beckett expected, even though his eyelids began to quiver and his mouth worked silently.
As Beckett watched, the omega’s grey eyes darkened, went hazy, and the breath caught high in his throat.
Beckett felt the soft abdomen against his own spasm.
That can’t have been pleasant, he thought, and for a while he didn’t think anything else, as the omega went wild beneath him.
Beckett hadn’t experienced anything like it.
The little thing writhed under him in a brutal clenching of muscles as he started back up with that keening.
Gods, he was even louder this time.
Beckett swore and lurched forwards when the omega clawed his buttocks.
He didn’t stop there, either. He gripped Beckett’s sides, scratched his back, then did his best to heave Beckett off him. Hissing at the sting of his shredded back, Beckett lifted his hips, wondering if his weight was too much.
It wasn’t. He was after something else.
The omega squirmed a hand between them and grabbed Beckett’s shaft.
“Uhn.” The sound was punched out of Beckett, deep from his gut.
They stared at each other for a frozen moment.
And then Beckett went wild, too.