Chapter 38
BECKETT
Every muscle in Beckett tightened. Every sense went on alert. His omega was right there, in touching distance. He was naked, he was willing, he was—
Jack’s.
Right now, he was Jack’s.
He’d be Beckett’s later, but right now, he was Jack’s.
Behind him, Jack had gone just as still and focused.
Arden’s wide-eyed gaze went from Beckett’s face to Jack’s and back again, then dropped to the coverlet.
“Is it…? I did knock,” he offered. “And you were…you said it was all right for me to come in any time, so I did, and you were…” He shuffled about with discomfort.
“In the dressing room. So I thought I’d sit and wait. ”
Jack’s breathing was loud and rough as he stepped out from behind Beckett.
Arden gasped and clapped his hand over his eyes.
He just as quickly parted his fingers for a quick peek, and snapped them shut again.
Jack and Beckett exchanged smiles and strode over to the bed.
Arden peeked again. When he saw them coming, he gave another breathless little gasp, this one tinged with delight. He tossed the pillow and scrambled backwards.
Though he didn’t like to fight, he was awful fond of being chased, Beckett thought, flashing back to that day on the beach when he’d chased Arden all over, and their omega had shrieked with happiness and rushed around, making sure to slow down when Beckett took too long to catch him.
Arden’s attention bounced between Jack and Beckett. It settled on Jack, obviously, what with Jack on the move and heading for Arden cock first, but it meant something that Arden still checked in with Beckett.
Jack reached the side of the bed, grabbed one of Arden’s ankles, and hauled him down the mattress.
Arden’s hair spread around him in a gingery little halo and he’d gone limp as soon as Jack touched him, so his arms came to rest either side of his head. His hands opened and closed. Not fretfully. In anticipation.
Leaning down, Jack planted his bunched fists either side of Arden’s hips and arched over him. Arden’s narrow chest rose and fell quickly.
“I want you against the pillows,” Jack ground out.
Arden, thinking Jack was talking to him, attempted to scoot himself backwards. Jack stopped him, shifting his braced arms closer together to trap Arden’s hips.
Beckett didn’t hang about. He strode to the head of the enormous bed and hopped on, plumping up the pillows behind him and getting himself comfortable.
Arden tipped his head back to watch Beckett go. Jack didn’t give Beckett a second look—his focus had arrowed straight to the throat innocently offered up to him. He laid his lips to the exposed arch.
“Oh,” Arden gasped.
Jack slid a hand between Arden and the mattress, cradling the back of his head, and held him there as he laid a necklace of kisses over Arden’s throat.
Arden gripped fistfuls of Jack’s hair even as he hitched a leg up around Jack’s hip. Or tried to, at any rate. He was too short, and with Jack hovering over him, he couldn’t quite reach.
Jack lifted away and glanced up at Beckett. He couldn’t look boyish if he tried, not with a hawk face like that, but he looked as wild and free as Beckett had ever seen him. “Pull him up there with you,” he said.
Beckett got on his knees, slipped his hands under Arden’s arms, and dragged him over the mattress, a reverse of what Jack had done earlier. He did it slowly, so Arden huffed and writhed over the silk coverlet.
So he’d feel the slippery fabric under his soft skin.
So he could really appreciate the view of Jack climbing onto the mattress and crawling over Arden the whole way. Staring at him.
Jack stopped once he was braced fully over Arden, who lay beneath him, panting wildly.
Reaching down, Beckett touched Arden’s chin. Arden blinked up at him, the whites showing around the large grey irises. “All right, pet?” Beckett asked. For Arden’s sake, and for Jack’s.
“Yes,” Arden said. It was a bit of a warble, but it was buzzing with enthusiasm.
Jack and Beckett both smiled.
Arden made a cross noise and reached for Jack, trying to tug him down and close the gap between their bodies.
Arden was practically fluttering with quick, short breaths and twitches.
Jack’s breathing, in contrast, was deep and slow.
Contained. Beckett saw the wildness in him coalesce to a single, focused point.
He knew what it was like. He’d felt it himself, when he was taking Arden the first time and Jack was there. The primitive knowledge that another alpha was looking out, and Beckett was free to take.
He got to give that to Jack, now.
He settled back.
Slowly, big body tensing and releasing in a show of beautiful control, Jack lowered over Arden. As their naked skin touched, Jack let out a subvocal growl of satisfaction.
Arden made another of those peculiar little hums he was prone to making when he liked something. He flung his arms around Jack’s neck and tried to haul him in closer. Jack, of course, wouldn’t be hurried.
He flexed over Arden as he eased his weight down, securing Arden in place. His buttocks and upper thighs bunched as he worked his hips between Arden’s thighs, and he laid his forearms either side of Arden’s head.
It was the most arousing thing Beckett had ever seen.
Jack took Arden’s parted, panting mouth in a tender kiss.
Gods.
They were beautiful.
Jack lifted away and slid Beckett an intently sexual look. Beckett had been hard enough, thanks; at that, his cock jerked and his stomach twisted.
And oh, Jack liked that, didn’t he? His omega husband beneath him, nervously panting for more. His alpha lover watching, wanting.
Beckett licked his lips and took hold of his cock.
Jack began to smile, and both of them were startled when Arden slapped out an ungraceful hand and hit Beckett’s thigh.
“Should I…?” he said, digging his fingers in and…was he trying to drag Beckett closer? “Um. Should I be doing that while…?”
“No, pet. I’m enjoying myself right fine from here. This is you and Jack, now.”
Arden huffed, fingers flexing on his thigh.
“Don’t be greedy,” Beckett said, knowing that it would rile him up. “We’ll work up to you taking us both at the same time.”
Arden responded predictably with an outraged little gasp.
Jack laughed and fell on him, kissing his face all over.
Arden loved that.
Loved it.
Jack’s playful kisses turned slow and lingering; one on Arden’s forehead, one to close each eye, and one to settle on his soft lips.
Arden wove his fingers through Jack’s hair and kissed him back. After a moment, Jack pulled away to stare down into his face before glancing over at Beckett with a raised brow.
“Is it all right?” Arden asked breathlessly. “Am I better at it? We practiced. Am I better?”
“Arden—” Beckett started.
Arden waved at him. “I know, I know. It’s not about that. But…am I?”
“I’m not sure,” Jack said. “Would you like to try again?”
“Yes.” Arden grabbed Jack’s face and drew him down to hold Jack’s mouth against his.
That single dimple showed in Jack’s cheek as it went on and on.
“Open up, pet,” Beckett stage-whispered.
Arden’s nose wrinkled. He was always reluctant to do this. Preferred it when Beckett did it for him. Or Jack.
He popped his mouth open and Jack, startled at the suddenness of it, heaved with a short laugh.
“Oh.” Arden pushed at his shoulders and shot a scowl Beckett’s way. “It doesn’t feel natural, I don’t know how—mmm. Mmmmm.”
Jack had caught his chin, angled it, and licked slowly, lingeringly over Arden’s scolding mouth. Arden curled up around him, his arms and legs locking around Jack’s solid body. Jack slid his tongue into Arden’s mouth, drew it out slowly, did it again and did—yeah.
He did that thing where he twisted it. Beckett could tell by the way Arden trembled.
“Been taking lessons have you?” Jack said, smiling down at his flushed and quivering husband.
“I will get so much better,” Arden assured him.
“You don’t have to, sweetheart,” Jack said. “You’re perfect.”
Arden stroked his shoulders and glanced shyly between him and Beckett. “I like it when you kiss me like that. Both of you. It’s wonderful when I can, um. Take it. But when I’m supposed to do it, I…”
“Kiss him how you like it,” Beckett said.
Arden looked uncertain.
“Come on, now. Be a good boy.”
Arden glared. It did nothing at all to hide the fact he loved being called a good boy.
Beckett couldn’t help himself. He reached out and swept a stray lock of hair from Arden’s hot face. “Our Jack’s a romantic, don’t forget. He’ll like it soft and pretty. If he wants someone to force him to take a good tonguing, he can ask me for it. Come on.”
Arden did as he was told. He pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of Jack’s mouth. His lips were closed and, Beckett knew, soft as a petal. He kissed the other corner, then settled fully against Jack’s smile with a quiet sigh.
Jack’s body was strung tight as he fought to hold himself still. His breathing was slow and controlled, but it roughened. Beckett saw his control unravelling, thread by thread.
He lost it entirely when Arden brushed his lips over Jack’s in dainty pecks, varying the pressure.
Arden was such a strange little thing. He loved to be pinned down, to have someone direct him, to manage his sensations and his pleasure. He seemed incapable of seeking it for himself.
It didn’t sit quite right with Beckett. Suggested things he didn’t care for, like Arden had spent a lifetime training himself not to want, to demand, to take. Even the love that was his right.
Jack collared Arden’s slender neck with a large hand and held him still while he slowly took over and kissed Arden the way Jack liked—deep, wet, with the single-minded purpose of overwhelming his partner.
And it was overwhelming. Arden was holding Jack close, but Beckett saw the faint glimmer of a tear at the outer corner of his eye.
“Jack,” Beckett murmured. “Easy.”
Jack drew back slowly without disengaging. He made a soft, querying sound.
Beckett assessed Arden. “Good,” he said.