Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 161: Fly on the wall

Chapter 160

Nolan

I can’t help but laugh out loud when I find out the reason why Jack’s face is so swollen.

"It’s not funny," he grumbles from his side of the bed.

I fall onto one of the decorative pillows and laugh even harder.

"Nollie, stop," Ciel says.

"Okay, okay." I stop, and I look at Jack—see the handprint on his cheek. Red. Distinct. Five fingers.

"Pfft—hahaha!" I double over again.

"Okay, that’s enough." Jack grabs and pulls across the bed.

I keep laughing, helpless, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. His arm locks around my waist, and I’m still laughing, my whole body shaking.

He places into a bear hug, hugging , and I stop laughing.

He looks down at , bites my ear.

"Ow—Jack!" I yelp, trying to squirm away.

His teeth sink into my earlobe just hard enough to make yelp, a jolt of sothing electric shooting down my spine.

I squirm, but Jack’s arm is like steel around my waist, pinning against him.

"Jack," I gasp, half-laughing, half-protesting.

"Let go."

His arms are iron around , and his teeth graze my earlobe again—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to make my entire body go still.

"Payback," he murmurs against my ear.

"For what?" My voice cos out breathier than I intended.

"For laughing at my suffering."

I struggle, but I can’t shake him off. I usually can shake off Jack, if I put my mind to it. But today I can’t. I panic and get excited.

"Have you put on more muscle?" I ask, surprised.

"Of course I have." His voice is low, amused, vibrating against my skin.

"So that one day I could pin you down like this and you wouldn’t be able to escape, doggy."

My mouth drops.

"So that’s why you’ve been avoiding seeing you in the gym," I say accusingly.

"Well, wouldn’t want you to catch on to my plan." He grins.

It lights up his whole face, he’s so handso.

"Are you not ashad?" I ask.

He shrugs. "Nope."

So the air between us has moved from teasing to sothing else.

He bites my bottom lip.

Soft. Quick. Not a kiss, not quite.

"Was that also payback?" I ask, my voice barely steady.

"No." His eyes are dark, steady, holding mine. "I just wanted to."

***

Ciel

This is one of those monts when I’m supposed to be a fly on the wall.

I carefully move from the bed to a chair near it, settling in, watching in anticipation.

Because I’m about to watch an explicit 4K live action show.

Nolan looks beautiful like this—pinned beneath Jack, his cheeks flushed, eyes wide. There’s a vulnerability in him that only appears in monts like these, when Jack strips away his defenses layer by layer.

Jack leans down, his lips brushing Nolan’s ear. I can’t hear what he says, but Nolan’s response is imdiate—a full-body shudder, his hands coming up to grip Jack’s shoulders.

I settle deeper into the chair, letting my gaze drift over them. Over the way Jack’s shirt strains across his shoulders as he holds himself above Nolan. Over the rapid rise and fall of Nolan’s chest.

This is it.

This is the mont I’ve been waiting for—not intentionally, not scheming, but hoping.

I’m usually pulled into their monts, I don’t mind, I want to join. But I also just want to watch sotis.... I think I’m becoming more and more like Jack.

Jack kisses him.

I gasp.

Not gently. Not carefully. The kind of kiss that says I’ve been waiting and I’m done waiting and you’re mine all at once.

Nolan makes a sound—half gasp, half moan—and his legs part, Jack settling between them.

I press my lips together.

Watching is its own kind of pleasure.

Jack’s hand slides under Nolan’s shirt, palm flat against his stomach. Nolan arches into the touch, head falling back, throat exposed.

I grip the arm rests of the chair.

Jack’s mouth moves to Nolan’s neck. Teeth. Tongue. A low growl that vibrates through the room.

Through my body.

Nolan’s hands fist in the sheets.

"Jack," he gasps.

"I know." Jack’s voice is rough, almost strained. "I know, doggy."

Jack sits up and removes his shirt, and as he’s unbuttoning Nolan’s shirt, he makes eye contact with .

His gaze holds mine—dark, heated, questioning.

He motions for to co join them.

I shake my head and refuse.

He tilts his head, asks again with a subtle lift of his chin, an arch of his brow.

I refuse again, pressing deeper into the chair, my fingers curled over the armrests.

He looks at again and gives a knowing smirk. Then he tosses Nolan’s shirt toward .

It lands in my lap, warm, soft, carrying the mingled scent of both of them,I bring the shirt to my nose and sniff.

Jack’s pheromones. Obviously. But also Nolan’s natural scent. The combination makes my head spin.

He winks at .

I motion for him to continue with a small flick of my fingers, a pointed look toward Nolan, who is still lying there, eyes closed, breathless, oblivious that I’m also in the room.

Get on with it Sir, before Nolan realizes I exist.

Jack’s smirk widens. He turns back to Nolan.

"Where were we?" he murmurs, low enough that I have to strain to hear.

Jack is thodical in his exploration of Nolan’s body, knowing exactly where to touch, where to kiss, where to bite to draw the most delicious sounds from him.

This is definitely why Jack likes to watch. I get it now.

It’s beautiful.

More importantly, extrely hot.

Jack’s mouth trails down Nolan’s chest, tongue flicking over a nipple, teeth grazing. Nolan arches off the bed, a broken sound escaping his throat.

"Jack—"

"Shh." Jack’s hand slides lower, fingers hooking into the waistband of Nolan’s pants.

"I’m not done with you yet."

Nolan’s hands grip the sheets, knuckles white. His chest is heaving, flushed pink all the way down to his stomach.

He really does turn into such a pretty shade of pink. I hope Nolan doesn’t realize I’m here just yet, because I really, really want to keep watching this show.