Chapter 5 #2
Beckett grimaced. Suppressants were expensive, hard to get, and illegal for a reason. Beckett would know what they were doing to Jack.
With any luck, this was the first and last time he had to take them. He didn’t regret it.
It was worth it, for Arden.
And, he thought as he got comfortable on the bed, it was worth it to see Beckett like this.
The first few times he and Beckett had come together, Beckett had rolled off Jack or slid out from under him the very moment they’d both spent, and reached for his clothes.
Jack had to wrestle him back into bed and pin him to the pillows if he wanted anything more.
Like, say, a conversation. Or any closeness at all.
Back then, Beckett had been a wary and guarded young man.
Here, now, as he tended to an omega in need, he was as open and vulnerable as Arden.
He was much taller than Arden, and he’d arranged himself in such a way that he wasn’t just making a cage out of his body; he was stroking Arden with it, in long, supple rolls that pushed out a soft ahhhh from Arden’s open mouth before he did it again, and again, and again.
As for Arden, he was slowly and quite surely unravelling.
His hands had moved from tentative strokes to greedy grabs. Beckett’s glittering skin dimpled beneath the press of Arden’s fingertips, and any minute—ah. There it was. Arden dug in and clawed at Beckett’s buttocks.
Jack was impressed he’d held back for so long. The moment that Jack got his hands on Beckett’s arse, he went crazy for it.
Beckett grunted, and Arden did it again. Beckett stared down at Arden and grinned, his smile flashing. He pushed back to sit on his calves, scooping Arden up as he did with an arm around his waist, and suddenly Arden was sitting up on his lap, looking startled.
Jack groaned at the sight of his two loves twined together. Beckett rocked his hips up into Arden, who was clutching Beckett’s shoulders, wide-eyed.
“Touch him,” Beckett said between rough moans, arse and thighs working. Arden’s soft little ahhhhs turned into quiet sobs of pleasure. Beckett hunched down and pressed his forehead to Arden’s shoulder, tilting his face to tuck it into Arden’s neck.
Jack didn’t hesitate. He knelt up behind Arden, slipping a hand around his throat and easing his head back. Beckett’s mouth was pressed against the pale skin of Arden’s throat; Jack pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Arden’s lips.
Beckett growled.
He wanted Jack to participate, but the alpha in him would only allow so much.
Arden’s skin was like damp satin, and Jack couldn’t get enough of it. He palmed Arden’s buttocks, one fitting perfectly in each hand, and absorbed the drive and power of Beckett’s thrusts.
Arden dropped one of the arms he’d had locked around Beckett and reached behind to flail at Jack.
Jack withdrew, thinking that Arden was trying to get him to move, to give them space. Arden made a worried sound when he shifted back, and Jack realised with a rush of relief that he wanted him closer.
He pushed up behind Arden. “You want me to hold you?”
“Please,” Arden said. “Please, please.”
Jack snugged himself close to Arden, keeping a wary eye on Beckett. He didn’t want the lad to suddenly fight him. It would upset Beckett, and scare Arden horribly.
He was surprised that the pair of them had been coherent for so long. Jack wondered if it had something to do with him being there, keeping their minds focused, keeping them from falling completely into the daze that a mating always brought.
Always, in the end.
Arden turned wild in Beckett’s arms, meeting his thrusts with whining demand.
Oh, he’d hate it if he could see himself.
He’d hate it if he knew he was acting this way.
Jack vowed that he’d teach Arden to revel in it.
There wasn’t anything wrong with him being an omega, despite what he’d learned in his parents’ house.
Despite that awful thing he’d once overheard Jack saying.
It was a delight to see him working with Beckett as they sought their peak. In the past, Jack had witnessed Arden hold himself back, push himself down, visibly restrain himself from wanting, or asking, or taking. Anything. Affection, attention, an extra slice of cake for godssake.
He and Beckett between them would teach Arden to want, to ask, to take. They’d uncover his desires, and give them to him.
He hoped.
Because while Beckett was being tender now and showing that deep sweetness that Jack had always suspected lay deep inside him, it didn’t mean he was going to be happy about Arden’s presence in their lives.
Jack had written to him, warning him about Arden’s impending arrival.
He’d written again, with a more detailed explanation of why he’d married Arden so suddenly—or at all—without ever having mentioned him to Beckett before.
He’d written a third time, asking Beckett for forgiveness for sending Arden ahead when Jack was forced to return to Sevennis.
He’d asked Beckett to watch over Arden until Jack could explain. To wait for Jack, and to trust him.
Beckett hadn’t responded to any of his letters.
In all honesty, Jack wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t even opened them.
And yet here he was, taking care of Arden anyway.
Arden was lost in Beckett’s arms and Beckett was fading, but for these last few moments, he was staring right into Jack’s eyes.
There, right there, was the fierceness that had captivated Jack from the very start.
Beckett’s eyes were dark, his pupils dilated fully.
He was curling his hips up with devastating regularity, thrusting in and out of Arden slower than Jack knew he preferred.
Fierce and tender, all at once. He kept his challenging gaze on Jack’s as he threaded his fingers through Arden’s hair and tugged his head to the side, exposing Arden’s neck.
He licked him, from the very base up to his jaw, then caught his earlobe and bit.
Arden gasped, and whatever that did to him inside affected Beckett because Beckett’s thrusts sped up. He set his teeth to Arden’s neck and dug in, but gently. Gently.
Beckett was growling and panting steadily, his lovely sounds twining with Arden’s soft cries. He was losing focus.
Now, Jack thought, a little sad. It was time for him to let them finish alone. He wouldn’t go far. He’d promised Arden, and he would stay within reach even though Arden wouldn’t know it if Jack walked out of the room.
Beckett was sucking on Arden’s throat at this point, his lids heavy, drugged by the pheromones. Jack caught his gaze and held it.
They stared at each other until Beckett’s eyes fell closed and he was as lost as Arden.
Jack moved off the bed. He could have pulled up a chair, but kneeling beside the mattress, though humbling, made him feel more connected.
He didn’t mind that it was humbling, anyway. There were only two people in this world he would humble himself for, after all, and he was looking at them.
Beckett had an arm tight around Arden’s narrow waist. He’d been using it to help Arden, lifting and lowering him, but now he released it. Arden wobbled, and Beckett pushed him down, flat to his back.
Arden let out a soft gasp as his back hit the mattress, and then a louder gasp as Beckett withdrew, caught Arden by the hips to flip him, and shoved himself back inside.
He stretched his beautiful body out over Arden’s, covering him.
He grabbed Arden’s hands and stretched his arms over his head, he braced his knees to the outsides of Arden’s legs, and he fucked him like the world was ending and Beckett was in a race to shove Arden and himself over the edge first.