Arden blinked and tried to say something but Beckett tutted at him, and he meekly sipped at the water instead. The meekness didn’t last long—he clutched at Beckett’s thick wrist and held onas he gulped thirstily. Beckett eased the glass away when he’d had half, and at Arden’s quiet protest, said, “You’ll be sick if you have any more.”
That would finish Arden off, Jack thought, smiling at the appalled expression on his husband’s face. Bad enough he was in a heat no one had anticipated, and being taken by his husband’s lover while his husband watched.
Jack took the glass from Beckett when he imperiously held it out. Beckett’s dark eyes met his for a second before he returned that intense attention to Arden.
“Arden,” Jack said again. “Shall I leave you with Beckett, sweetheart?”
Jack was trying to give him a sense of control, but he’d miscalculated. Arden went rigid and paled. “No,” he said. “No,no. Don’t leave me.”
Beckett’s face tightened.
Jack hushed Arden, brushing his hair back from his hot cheeks. He couldn’t stop moving under Beckett. “I’ll stay,” Jack told him. “I’ll stay with you both. All right?”
“I’m scared.”
Beckett had been bracing much of his weight in his hands, and at this whispered confession, he pushed himself up and off.
Arden cried out as he slipped free, reaching for him. Beckett crashed back onto Arden, shoving back inside and covering him. Arden squirmed about and got his legs up and around Beckett’s lean hips, locking his ankles as if to say he was going nowhere.
“Don’t have to be scared, pet,” Beckett said gruffly. “I told you I won’t hurt you.”
Pet. Neither of them seemed to notice the endearment.
“Oh. Oh. Ah. Ahhhhhh.” Arden panted as Beckett gave a filthy twist at the top of each thrust. “I know. I know. Not you. Not scared of y-you.”
He definitely was. Arden was the shyest person Jack had ever met. He’d be overcome if he was sitting in the drawing room having tea with Beckett, let alone writhing around in a tangle of sweaty limbs with him.
“Will it h-hurt, though? Mm. Mmmm. Oh,Jack.”
Beckett ducked down and bit his neck. “It’sBeckett,” he snarled. “Say it.”
“B-Beckett. Sorry. Mmm. Mm-hmmm. Uhhhh. Beckett.”
The pair were losing focus, falling into each other. Jack didn’t have long. “Arden,” Jack said. “Will what hurt?”
“Completing.” When neither of them responded, he added in a quiet voice, “Climax.”
“No,” Beckett said before Jack could. “It’s nice.”
It was the right thing to say. Arden didn’t need to be told that he’d black out with it, that the pleasure would overwhelm him and take him under without mercy.
“Arden.” Jack leaned in and tilted Arden’s face to his. Beckett made an abortive snap at Jack’s arm. He didn’t flinch. Beckett did. Jack ignored it and said, “Sweetheart, if you want me here, then here I’ll stay. You have nothing to fear. You know you have nothing to fear anymore. You trusted me enough to marry me. Even if it gets overwhelming, know that I have you. I have you.”
Arden’s eyes met his.
“Trust me,” Jack said. “Trust us.”
Arden’s gaze flickered to Beckett’s and fell shyly away. He nodded and stroked his hands tentatively down Beckett’s damp sides.
Beckett purred with pleasure—oh, listen to him! Hewasbeing sweet—and encouraged Arden to do it again.
Jack went to move away and give them space. To his surprise, it was Beckett who stopped him.
“Jack,” he said, “get on the damn bed.”
Jack didn’t argue. He didn’t hesitate, either.
He pulled off his boots and climbed onto the mattress. He was already in shirtsleeves and breeches. At Beckett’s bossy look and arched brow, Jack laughed and stripped his shirt off. When Beckett aimed that bossy look and arched brow at his breeches, Jack shook his head with a rueful smile.
