Beckett had gaped at the flocked and gilded wallpaper.
He couldn’t believe another alpha had got the drop on him.
Sheer astonishment kept him immobile for three long seconds, during which his cock went from minding its own business as he went about his duties, to hard and raring to go.
He broke out of Jack’s hold and turned the tables.
Jack being a duke and all, Beckett didn’t quite have it in him to slam the man face-first into the wall and ask him howheliked it. He settled for shoving Jack back against it instead, pinning him there with a hand at his sternum.
Jack’s eyes glittered. “Is that a yes?” he said.
Beckett glared at him. “Want a fucking, do you, Your Grace?” He dragged an insolent gaze up and down Jack’s tall, muscled frame. “Yeah, all right. I’ll do you.”
The look on Jack’s face at that?
Priceless.
And it was a handsome face. Black eyes, eyebrows, and lashes. Smooth, warm olive skin. A generous mouth that Becketthadn’t been able to stop thinking about from the moment Marl had introduced him to the man. He had a snooty, aristocratic look to him that Beckett both loved and hated.
Beckett stepped back and gave the man a second, more thorough, looking over. “You going to be able to keep up?” he asked, aiming his gaze pointedly at the small scatter of silver flecks in Jack’s dark hair, and the fine lines beside his eyes.
Jack followed him, moving into his space and ducking down the extra two inches he had on Beckett to say in his ear, “That’s something you’ll have to find out.”
Beckett turned his head, the rough catch of Jack’s cheek over his making him shiver. He reached up to grip Jack’s jaw and bring him in for a testing kiss.
Jack caught his wrist before he made contact, and squeezed. He wasn’t gentle. His lips curled in an irritating smirk. “When you’re ready,” he said, “come to my bedchamber. We’ll see who can keep up.”
Beckett snapped his wrist free, leaned in and bit at Jack’s mouth, making Jack groan. “I ain’t comin’,” he said as he pulled back. “So when you get tired of waiting for your fucking, how about you come tomybedchamber, eh?” he said. “Your Grace.”
Jack grinned at that, and slung an arm around Beckett’s waist. “Mhm. You come to me. I’m not the one who’s getting fucked.”
Beckett stared at him, then said indignantly, “You’re not fuckingme.”
“Am I not?” Jack’s big hand drifted lower and gripped a buttock. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Beckett grunted, even as he pushed his hips into Jack’s.
“That is a shame. There are few things I like more than getting an alpha beneath me and holding him down. Making him take it for me. Making him beg for more.”
Beckett’s gut twisted at the thought of it. Of him beneath this man. Bigger, older, more powerful than Beckett. Fighting him for the right to fuck him, then taking it.
The thought was arousing.
Just the thought.
He looked Jack square in the eye, and shook his head once.
Jack didn’t seem too surprised. And since Jack was the one who started this off, Beckett decided to go ahead and treat him as if he was any other alpha, not the master.
He snaked his own arms around Jack’s waist and grippedbothbuttocks. Gods, he was built. Thick with muscle, hot and hard, and so round. Beckett couldn’t hold back the filthy sound of appreciation that crawled out of his throat. Holding Jack’s interested gaze, he massaged unsubtly. Jack hissed lightly through his teeth.
“What about you?” Beckett said. “Are you sure?”
Jack smiled regretfully. “Yes.”
Beckett didn’t stop touching him. He didn’t know how much longer he was going to get to do it, seeing as they’d hit an impasse, and he was hungry for this man. He moved his hold to Jack’s hips and tilted his pelvis into Beckett’s. Jack’s cock pressed against his own. Beckett flexed into it.
“It’s a good job there are plenty of other things I like to do to an alpha,” Jack said, “besides getting my cock in his arse.”
