Page 159 of Knot That Serious

Beckett growled and bent at the waist, shoving Jack's thighs apart. Whatever Jack had to say died in his throat.

Beckett glanced up at him. "What were you gonna say?"

"There's no lube?" Jack asked.

Beckett arched a brow. "I know. What do you think I'm doing down here?"

Jack scoffed. "Well, I mean a guy can hope—christ, Beckett," Jack gasped out as Beckett slid his lips around the head of him, sucking gently. His hips jumped up off the counter and Beckett circled his waist, holding him still.

He worked fast, swallowing around Jack's length and curling his tongue along the underside of him. Jack's hand threaded through his hair, gripping at the short blond strands.

Salt stained his tongue and Beckett chased the taste of it, wrapping a hand around the already swelling knot at Jack's base, squeezing each time he withdrew.

"God, you're so—fucking—" Jack panted, words intelligible as Beckett took him to the back of his throat.

Jack pulsed across his tongue, just the weight of him enough to send shivers through Beckett, and he sucked in a breath before sinking even deeper.

His lips met the hand around Jack's knot, squeezing and twisting and encouraging more precum to well up and spill over.

Beckett bobbed his head steadily, taking Jack again and again until his fist tightened in his hair and his hips leapt against Beckett's tight hold.

He didn't swallow, letting his spit and the precum slick over Jack's knot, his balls, even lower.

He pulled off for a moment, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed, lips red and wet, and dragged two fingers through the mess of him.

"Do not gag me," he warned Jack as he released his hip.

Jack's eyes widened and he remained perfectly, fearfully motionless as Beckett's fingers brushed over his hole. Jack shivered, and Beckett watched the chills race over his skin, beneath his shirt, but he remained still, only the head of his cock brushing Beckett's lips.

Once he trusted that Jack wouldn't thrust his hips at the wrong time, Beckett sucked him inside again.

His hole twitched at Beckett's persistent touch, and Beckett let more wetness drool down his length, catching it with his fingers so he could prepare Jack properly.

Part of him couldn't believe he was being so reckless, doing this here at a viewing, in a house they didn't even own.

A house anyone could walk into at any point. Beckett had told the realtor they'd like some alone time for the viewing, but what realtor actually listened?

They could walk in at any time and find them like this.

Beckett shivered at the thought, taking Jack deeper, wanting to feel him in his throat.

He finally slid a finger inside Jack, felt him squeeze around the digit and pulse against his tongue and—fuck. Beckett wanted to feel it around his cock, knew his knot was already swelling, and Jack hadn't even gotten anywhere near his dick.

Beckett doubled his efforts, bobbing his head over Jack, squeezing his knot and stretching him open.

With more slick he managed two fingers, Jack's groan echoing around the empty kitchen. He pressed deeper, gently, searching for—

"Fuck!" Jack shouted, and slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his moan.

Beckett would've grinned in victory if not for how close Jack felt, abs tensing, knees digging into the side of Beckett's torso.

Beckett pressed his two fingers into Jack's prostate, massaging it until he was outright fucking whining, desperate and throbbing in his mouth.

Come for me, he begged silently, because as soon as he did, as soon as he—

"Beck-Beckett, I'm—" Jack’s warning dissolved into a moan as he spilled across Beckett's tongue, ass clenching around his fingers.

Beckett squeezed his knot tightly, keeping him at least half-hard by cheating, tricking his body into thinking it was an omega who needed pleasing and not Beckett, who was just... selfish.

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