Chapter 34 #2
“She was being caught. By him.” Beckett points at Zane without looking away from Cameron. “You are at the window.”
Cameron’s hand stays on me. “I don’t want to be at the window.”
“That’s the entire concept of the window.”
Zane leans close to my ear and stage-whispers loudly enough to reach the bathroom. “I don’t think we’re allowed to talk.”
“You are absolutely not allowed to talk.”
“He’s talking.”
“He’s overstepping. Different offense, different penalty.”
I’m laughing again, actually laughing this time, shaking against Zane’s chest with Beckett’s hand still at my jaw and Cameron’s palm warm against my back.
For about a second and a half, Beckett’s whole performance disappears, and he looks at me.
Not the marks or the bonds or either man touching me. Me.
“That,” he says quietly. “That’s the whole plan.”
Then the expression is gone, and he points at the bed. “Middle. Now.”
I go to the middle.
Beckett gets his own shirt off one-handed and knows exactly how it looks. Zane gets stuck in his and has to be extracted. Cameron undresses without any particular hurry and folds nothing, and three belts hit the carpet inside about four seconds.
Beckett runs it the way he runs a boat when Gray’s out, which is to say he never raises his voice and nobody ever has a question about who’s talking. He tells Zane where he wants him and Cameron, twice, to stay off my hips. He tells me almost nothing, which turns out to be the point.
Every time I reach for somebody, he catches me.
The first time it’s Zane, because his mouth is moving down my stomach and I want my hands in his hair.
Beckett catches my wrist before I get there and puts it back beside my head.
The second time I try to turn toward Cameron when his hand slides over my ribs, and Beckett puts me flat again with one palm against my sternum. By the third time, I’m annoyed.
“Beckett.”
“No.”
His mouth is at my throat, just below Gray’s mark, careful not to touch it. Zane is between my thighs now, kissing the inside of one knee and working his way higher without any apparent hurry.
“Beckett.”
“You’ve been making decisions since February.
” He kisses the spot under my ear, then lower, his teeth catching lightly before his tongue follows.
“What to say. Who to protect. What to sign. When to lie to us. Today you sat in a boat and made the biggest decision anybody in this program has ever made, and you made it by yourself in about four seconds.”
Zane’s mouth reaches the crease of my thigh, and my breath catches.
“So tonight,” Beckett says, “you’re going to lie there and not decide anything. I’m going to be extremely good at this, and tomorrow you can go back to being the smartest person in every room you walk into.”
Then Zane puts his mouth on me and whatever answer I had disappears.
There’s no teasing start to it. His tongue slides through me once, slow and wet, and my hips come off the mattress before I can stop them. Beckett’s hand lands low on my stomach and presses me back down while Zane does it again, sending heat up my body so fast it makes my face burn.
Zane hooks both arms around my thighs and pulls me closer to his mouth.
He isn’t laughing anymore. He isn’t talking either, which might be the first sign that Beckett’s plan has actually altered the natural order of the universe.
His tongue finds my clit and circles it, soft at first, then with more pressure when my legs tense around his shoulders.
He learns what I like quickly. Too quickly.
A few passes and he’s already found the rhythm that makes my stomach tighten.
I reach for him without thinking, but Beckett catches my wrist. This time he doesn’t say anything. He just laces his fingers through mine and holds my hand against the mattress, and something about that finally gets through.
I stop trying to help.
Without watching them or anticipating what’s next, the room gets smaller. Zane’s mouth between my legs. Beckett’s hand wrapped around mine. Cameron’s palm moving slowly along my side, never competing for space, just touching whatever part of me nobody else has claimed.
Zane slides two fingers inside me, curls them, and sucks my clit into his mouth at the same time.
My back arches and a broken sound comes out of me.
His bond rolls through me warm and bright, carrying a flash of satisfaction so unmistakably Zane that I almost laugh.
He feels me notice and does it again, fingers stroking deep while his tongue works over me until my thighs start shaking.
Beckett watches my face, which is almost worse than anything Zane is doing.
His thumb moves over the back of my hand, slow and absent, while his eyes stay on mine.
There’s nothing performative in his expression now.
No grin. No clever line waiting behind his teeth.
He just watches every reaction Zane pulls out of me as if he’s been given one job tonight and this is it.
Cameron shifts down the bed and gets a hand beneath my thigh, lifting it over Zane’s shoulder. His other hand finds the mark at the base of my spine, reaching under me where the arch of my back leaves him room, and his bond opens.
It isn’t new or sudden. It’s the same steady warmth he’s been giving me all night, familiar enough now that my body doesn’t have to search for it or orient itself around the shock of it.
My shoulders sink into the mattress anyway.
My legs loosen around Zane and even my breathing changes, not because Cameron is unfamiliar, but because I finally stop bracing against him.
He feels it happen. His fingers spread over the mark, keeping his hand there while Zane works between my thighs, and something in me settles around the three of them.
Then his hand under my thigh slides inward.
His thumb finds me from the side, close enough to where Zane’s fingers are inside me that the sensations overlap.
My whole body locks.
Zane stops. So does Beckett, and Cameron immediately starts to withdraw.
“No.”
The word comes out wrecked, and nobody moves for half a second. I don’t care that I’ve technically made a decision. Beckett apparently doesn’t either, because he looks from Cameron to me and then back again.
“Do it again.”
Cameron does.
His thumb presses slowly against me while Zane’s fingers curl inside, and the combination punches a gasp out of me.
Zane catches on immediately. His mouth closes over my clit again, Cameron keeps the same measured pressure, and suddenly there is too much sensation in too many places for me to brace against any of it.
My hand clamps around Beckett’s.
“That’s it,” he says quietly.
The orgasm builds so fast it scares me. I feel it in the bonds first, Zane flaring bright and hot, Cameron opening wider beneath him, Beckett’s flicker coming up hard under my sternum.
For one awful second my body remembers the boat, eight bonds hitting at once, the cox box going silent, my hand falling off the rudder line.
I open my eyes and Beckett is right there.
There are only three of them. Zane’s mouth, Cameron’s hand, Beckett holding mine. None of them needs anything from me.
That thought breaks whatever I’ve been holding.
I come hard around Zane’s fingers, hips lifting despite Beckett’s hand as pleasure tears through me in waves.
Zane doesn’t stop. He slows just enough to keep me from tipping into too much, working me through every contraction until I’m shaking and trying to get away from his mouth at the same time I want more of it.
When he finally lets me go, I collapse into the mattress with my entire body loose.
Beckett looks down at me. “Still with me?”
I manage a nod, but his eyes narrow until I make myself answer. “I’m here.”
“Good.”
Zane kisses the inside of my thigh, then my hip, leaving a damp trail as he works his way up my body.
His hair is wrecked from my legs, his mouth wet, and he looks so pleased with himself that under any other circumstances I’d have something to say about it.
I don’t have enough functioning brain left.
He kisses me anyway, and I taste myself on his tongue before Beckett catches him by the back of the neck and moves him aside.
Zane goes willingly, which tells me more about whatever conversation happened before they came upstairs than anything else has.
Beckett settles between my legs. He’s been in control of the room for the better part of an hour, but up close I can see what it’s cost him. His breathing is rough, his pupils blown wide, and when I put my palms against his chest, his heart is beating hard enough for me to feel it.
He takes one of my hands and puts it higher over his bond mark. The flicker inside me goes solid. For the first time since he put that mark on me, Beckett doesn’t feel like a struck match. He feels like a flame that’s finally caught.
His forehead comes down against mine. “Eyes.”
I open them, and he pushes into me slowly.
The stretch steals my breath. I’m already wet and open from Zane’s mouth and fingers, but Beckett is thick enough that my body still has to give around him. He feels it. His jaw tightens and he stops halfway, holding himself there until my thighs loosen.
I move my hips, and his hand closes around one. “No.”
“Beckett.”
“Let me.”
That’s all it takes this time. I go still and let him press deeper until he’s seated fully inside me, the breath leaving both of us at once. For a second he doesn’t move. His hands are braced on either side of me, and his face is close enough that I can see the moment his control slips.
Then he draws almost all the way out and thrusts back in.
My head tips back as he does it again, slow and deep, setting a pace that makes me feel every inch of him. The drag of his cock inside me is almost unbearable after the orgasm Zane just gave me, and every stroke pulls another small sound out of my throat while Beckett watches all of them happen.