Page 160 of Knot That Serious

He extracted his fingers and slurped off Jack's cock before pulling the alpha off the counter and spinning him around.

"What—did you—oh," Jack finally settled on as Beckett pressed a hand between his shoulder blades to lean him over the counter. The cabinet banged as Jack nailed his knee into it in his hurry to obey.

Once Jack was splayed out for him, Beckett—well, he couldn't help himself. He slapped Jack's ass before gripping his cheeks and spreading him wide.

He parted his lips and let Jack's cum spill from his mouth, catching it with his fingers and working them into him. The glide was so much slicker that even Jack groaned.

"Oh, that's so fucking disgusting. I love you," Jack panted, cheek smushed into the counter.

Beckett worked three fingers into him, making sure he was wet enough and stretched enough to take him, before he pulled away and replaced his fingers with the head of his cock.

"It's enough, come on, Beckett, hurry," Jack urged.

Beckett spit the rest of it onto Jack, heard the cabinet bang as Jack jerked his knee into it again by accident.

Beckett wiped his mouth, swallowed the remaining bitter taste, and finally pushed in.

Jack was hot and wet and fucking tight around him, and Beckett resisted the urge to fuck deeper too soon.

"Beckett, you're fucking—you're fucking me with my own cum, will you please do it like you mean it?" Jack begged, arching his back, trying to take more.

Beckett's eyes fluttered at that, because yes, that's exactly what he was doing, but hearing Jack phrase it like that made him warm all over, his blood red-hot.

"You were so good for me earlier," Beckett mused, voice rough from disuse. "Being so still."

He dragged his hips back, watching Jack tighten around him as if to keep him inside.

"So I guess you earned it," he said and snapped his hips, sliding into Jack in one smooth glide.

He was moving before Jack could even moan, smoothing a hand up his back and grasping at his shoulder and hip to keep him in place.

His sweat-slick skin squeaked across the counter as Beckett drilled into him, heat racing up and down his spine, settling in his belly, his cock.

His knot nudged at Jack with every thrust but they didn't have time for that, even if he could tell Jack wanted it.

"Don't have time," Beckett panted. "We shouldn't even—be doing this." His words were broken up by the effort of his thrusts.

"But it's so g-good," Jack moaned.

"Anyone could fucking walk in," he told Jack.

His hazel eyes snapped open from where they'd been slammed shut, and Jack lifted his head off the counter.

"What do you mean?"

"Realtor, other bidders." Jack squeezed right around him at that. Did he want to be discovered? Want someone to watch him take Beckett? Watch Beckett claim him?

The idea sent a whole new wave of heat through him and he fucked it right into Jack. "I didn't buy the fucking house, Jack," he said. His hips smacked against Jack's ass in a steady, loud rhythm that echoed around the room.

"This was just—a gesture," he breathed.

"Gesture?" Jack echoed.

Beckett threaded a hand through Jack’s hair and pulled him upright, against his chest. It changed the angle, and he fucking jolted against Beckett before melting into him, back arching as Beckett nailed his prostate again.

He trailed his lips sloppily along his neck.

“A gesture,” he said, words skidding along Jack's skin. “You said you were interested in a bond?”

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