Jack lifted his brows at the duch, who said quietly, “Yes. Um. Thank you.”
That didn’t sit well with Beckett, not at all. “But you’re—” He broke off before he came out and said it.
“Old?” the duch supplied for him.
Well, yes. That wasn’t all, though. “Pretty,” he said.
“Oh.” The duch squirmed around to lie on his back and look up into Beckett’s face.
His cheeks were pink, his eyelids were puffy, and his nose was red. His lips were swollen and the stubble rash around his mouth extended down to his chin, his neck, and his chest.
He met Beckett’s eyes shyly. “That is very kind of you,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Not kind. The truth.” He gripped the duch’s chin and lifted it, holding him steady as he rested his mouth against the duch’s and murmured, “Want to see how I’d have done it if I knew you hadn’t even had a proper kiss before?”
“Yes?”
Beckett sighed. That wasn’t a yes, that was a question.
He went to pull away, and grunted softly in surprise when the duch grabbed his shoulders and used them to haul himself up and press a clumsy kiss to Beckett’s mouth.
Jack sighed. Beckett and the duch turned to look at him.
“Don’t mind me,” he said. “I’m just enjoying the view.”
The duch hunched down and put his hands over his face.
“Arden,” Jack said, laughingly. Cajolingly. “Come out.”
The duch shook his head.
His body was strung tight with tension again. Beckett marvelled at him. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to live like this. The little thing had swung from shy to bold to panicked to relaxed and whatever else, all in the few minutes he’d been awake.
In that time, Beckett had experienced one mood only. He liked to call it: morning.
Meant he was ready for sex, he was resigned to getting up and going to work instead, and his body was thrumming with energy.
Maybe that was an alpha trait. Maybe all omegas were as unstable as this one. Although unstable seemed an unkind way of thinking about it. Needing? Did that sound better? Yes. Needing structure. Support. Someone big and strong—like Beckett—to keep them safe. Tell them what to do.
He flashed back to the two omegas he’d had before, and…no. Neither of them had been in heat, and they’d known full well what they wanted from Beckett. They’d demanded it, they’d got it, and when they were done, they’d told him not to let the door hit him on the way out.
This wasn’t an omega trait.
This was a duch trait.
“Shall we leave you to rest then, sweetheart?” Jack said.
He’d never called Beckett sweetheart. Probably because Beckett would have laughed at him for it. He called…
He called Beckettmy love, and Beckett held that close to his heart. He didn’t quite believe it. But he held it.
The duch parted his fingers enough to peek out, and Beckett cocked his head. “Come out,” he ordered.
The duch hesitated and then, to Beckett’s amusement, he did as he was told.
Wouldn’t obey his husband, but the footman told him to do something and he snapped to it.
Hmm.
