Chapter 38 #2
Jack all but purred with satisfaction as he shifted over Arden. He fell into a restless rhythm of it, his body tensing and relaxing against Arden’s as he continued to kiss him.
The air turned heavy around them all. The room was filled with heat and sounds: Arden’s soft breaths and Jack’s answering rumble; Beckett’s own harsh breathing; the arousing whisper of deep kisses and the gentle rustle of the bedclothes.
Jack eased his weight to one side and dragged an open hand from Arden’s throat down the side of his chest and in to palm his cock.
Arden wailed, Jack jolted with surprise, and Beckett made the mistake of laughing.
Moaning in horror, Arden’s arms flapped about over his head. Beckett grabbed a pillow and gave it to him. He covered his face with it.
“Popped off, did he?” Beckett said.
“He did,” Jack replied.
Beckett slid down to lie alongside them, checking on Jack for any flare of possessiveness. There wasn’t one. He rather thought that out of the two of them, he was going to be the alpha with the biggest problem when it came to reining in possessive displays.
Jack peeled his upper body off Arden and shuffled back to straddle him. They both gazed down at his spent little cock. Beckett took in a sharp breath. “Yes,” Jack said. “Exactly.”
Arden’s body was pale and willow slender between Jack’s powerful thighs. He was trembling, his hands fisted in the pillow.
Grinning, Beckett put a finger to his lips.
Jack raised a brow but complied.
Arden’s trembling and the muffled sounds of embarrassed distress faded to stillness. Then, still muffled, he said, “What are you both doing?”
“Looking at you, of course,” Beckett said.
Arden’s hands flew down to cover his groin.
“Stop it,” he ordered.
“No.”
“Jack!”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Don’t look!”
“All right.”
There was a moment of silence. Then an indignant, “You’re looking.”
“Am I?”
“I can feel it.”
“That’s Beckett.”
“Beckett, don’t look either,” Arden ordered.
Beckett was endlessly entertained at Arden’s rules for himself—what he could demand and what he couldn’t. What he could ask for and what he couldn’t.
“I’m looking, pet. Want to guess what else I’m doing?”
He took hold of his cock in one hand, and Jack’s in the other. Jack gave a soft grunt and flexed into it helplessly. Beckett stroked them both, slowly. Jack always leaked more than Beckett did, and it made a nice filthy sound.
“No,” Arden said. Then, suspiciously, “What are you doing?”
Jack sighed and flexed into Beckett’s grip again, moving over Arden.
Arden went rigid.
Beckett put some force into it, encouraging Jack’s thrusts.
Arden snatched the pillow off his face and pushed up to his elbows, blowing his hair out of his hot face with a distracted puff. His eyes were damp and wide, and shot right to where Beckett was getting fancy with it.
“And you have the nerve to call me greedy,” he chided. Shyly, he reached out and rested his fingers on the back of Beckett’s hand. The one he was jerking Jack with. Clearly not sure which one of them he should be looking at, he kept his eyes facing forward instead.
Beckett resettled himself, stretching out long beside them. He released his own cock to prop up his head. Arden’s lips were damp and parted, swollen. Beckett flicked a quick glance up at Jack.
Jack nodded.
Beckett leaned over and bit at Arden’s mouth, staying to catch his gasp of surprise in his own mouth before he slowly dragged his hand the length of Jack’s shaft. Jack grunted and bucked into it, pushing Arden hard against the mattress.
Arden’s fingers still rested, light and cool, on the back of Beckett’s. Beckett allowed it as he continued to stroke Jack a couple more times. Then he slowly drew his hand out from under Arden’s, pausing until Arden hesitantly took his place, curling his fingers around the hot, hard shaft.
Jack rolled his hips sensuously into it as Beckett murmured encouragement.
He didn’t use words. He did it the same way he murmured to the birds, or to a kitchen cat he was enticing over for a fuss. It wasn’t the first time he’d tried this on Arden. It worked a treat. Arden held on, and he continued to stroke Jack the way Beckett had.
Jack hissed, the slow roll edging with demand. Arden’s throat clicked as he swallowed and he looked up. Their eyes locked. Jack gave a slow, dirty smile. Arden hummed nervously and his lids flickered.
“Yeah,” Jack said, thighs bunching as he slowed the rock of his hips but turned up the power. “Beckett,” he said.
Beckett grunted an acknowledgment and wrapped his hand over Arden’s, firming it for Jack to thrust harder.
He should have known they’d work well together like this. They were experts at wringing pleasure out of each other, after all.
Jack’s breathing was heavy and rough. All of them were making a racket just trying to get enough air in, but Jack was definitely the loudest. His thighs shook and the tendons in his neck were tight with tension.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked Arden, his voice a deep rumble that Beckett felt in his own chest.
“Yes,” Arden said at once. “Yes!”
Jack’s hips stuttered at the sheer happiness that shone from Arden’s face.
Oh, they were both so fucked, Beckett thought. He’d known they were, but…so, so fucked.
Who could resist doing whatever it took to get that smile again and again and again?
Beckett eased away, giving Jack room to shift over Arden, sliding down over him and taking hold of a hip, a thigh, lifting it up and hooking it around him. He hesitated. “On your back or your front, sweetheart?” he said.
“Um…” Arden shot Beckett an uncertain look and screeched when Beckett got a hand in there between them, twisted it around, and gently probed Arden’s hole.
He’d softened with the love play as omegas did, easy and pliant.
Though he was warm and welcoming as he clutched at Beckett’s finger, he was built small.
“Put him on his belly,” Beckett told Jack.
Maybe some people would be disappointed at losing the view of Arden’s sweet face while fucking him, but not Jack. For one, Jack knew exactly who he was fucking.
For two, Beckett rather thought that while he, personally, wanted Arden’s eyes on him, wanted to see those pretty swollen lips part as he panted, wanted to feel his soft cries strike at his own lips, Jack’s pleasure would come from fully dominating the body beneath him.
Jack didn’t hesitate. He lifted up and flipped Arden, who went onto his belly with a soft oof and immediately started to crawl up the bed.
He didn’t get anywhere, of course. Jack lay on top of him and Arden gave a shivery, soft moan of utter surrender and welcome.
Yeah.
If Arden wanted an eye-fucking to go along with a good hard dicking, Beckett would be the one to provide. If he wanted to wind his arms around someone’s neck and bounce around on their lap, he could bounce on Beckett’s.
If he wanted to be held down and consumed?
Couldn’t get better than Jack.
Jack curled over Arden, caging him and revelling in it. He turned Arden’s face gently to Beckett.
Arden’s cheeks were poppy red, his eyes startlingly bright. Beckett brushed the unruly russet hair out of his lashes and his mouth, then tweaked his chin.
Arden didn’t even respond. He was utterly dazed. It was adorable.
Beckett glanced up at Jack, and he nodded.