Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 50: Messed up

Chapter 49

Ciel

I may have ssed up.

Nolan has been given all these opportunities, and nothing has happened?

I don’t understand it. I know Nolan. I’ve known him my whole life. He isn’t blind. He isn’t immune. He stares at Jack like he’s trying not to breathe too loudly. And Jack—well, Jack might pretend, but he notices. He notices everything.

So why hasn’t anything happened?

I lie on the couch, Lanny curled against my chest, staring up at the ceiling. My brain won’t stop spinning.

Maybe I overestimated Nolan’s courage. Maybe I’ve pushed too hard. Or maybe—maybe Jack’s restraint is stronger than I thought.

And that scares .

Because restraint runs out eventually.

If Jack really is as smitten as I think he is, then how long before frustration eats away at him? How long before he looks elsewhere—soone willing, soone unafraid, soone who doesn’t freeze the mont things get real?

The thought makes bile rise in my throat. I’ve already lost too much in my life. I can’t lose this. I can’t lose him.

I stroke Lanny’s little head, his soft tufts of orange-gold hair. "Your papa’s an idiot," I whisper, though I’m not sure if I an Nolan or Jack. Maybe both. Maybe too.

I close my eyes and sigh.

*

I asked Nolan to give so space with Jack. He’s watching over Lanny.

Like clockwork, this is the ti Jack gets out of his evening shower.

I close his room door behind , the click of the latch louder than it should be. My heart beats faster, but I don’t stop.

Jack moves with that careless ease of his, towel around his neck, water still clinging to his skin. He throws on a pair of briefs, and I have to admit—he has a nice ass. Solid. Broad. The kind of thing that makes you bite your lip without aning to.

Then he turns, and my eyes betray , dropping before I can stop them. The bulge in his underwear is impossible to ignore. That’s him soft.

I snap my gaze up. Too late.

"Sunshine, hey." His voice is warm, casual. Unassuming.

But to ? It shoots an arrow straight into my heart.

I don’t think I’m deserving of being called sunshine, but Jack doesn’t hear that. The last ti I voiced that opinion, he was mad at .

Sunshine.

He calls that like it’s a fact, not up for debate.

Every pet na I’ve ever been given was lustful, objectifying, or generic but sunshine? Never.

I walk to him, almost against my own will, and wrap my arms around his neck. He’s so tall that he has to bend down, his body folding toward like I’m the gravity pulling him in. His arms wrap around my waist, strong, secure, warm.

And with every hug, it feels like a piece of is being nded. Like he’s knitting sothing broken back together, even if I don’t know what it will beco in the end.

He places down to my feet, and I pull him along to the bed, pushing him until he sits. Then, without thinking too hard, I straddle his hips.

"Oh? What’s going on?" Jack asks, hands already finding my waist. His palms are warm, steady, like they belong there.

"Do you want to move?" I shoot back, heart hamring. For a mont I regret saying it—alphas don’t like being challenged. In the past, a question like that would have earned anger, punishnt.

But Jack? Jack just smirks, eyes hooded. "Not at all."

Relief washes through , and I kiss him before my courage can scatter.

He kisses back instantly, just as much, his lips demanding and eager. He lets set the pace, but at the sa ti he takes control—his mouth parting mine, his tongue sliding against mine, his hand anchoring firmly in place.

I shift slightly, and that’s when I feel it.

He’s growing hard beneath , the thick outline pressing against through the thin barrier of fabric. Heat flares in my chest, in my stomach, everywhere.

I wrap my arms around his neck and lean closer, chasing more, needing more. Jack’s hands tighten on my hips, and then he moves . Slowly at first, grinding over him, setting a rhythm I didn’t even know I was begging for.

A gasp tears out of .

"Think you can co like this?" I whisper against his ear, my lips brushing his skin.

"You could wink at , and I would co undone," he groans, his voice hot and rough, straight into my chest.

I smile, shaky, disbelieving. It’s unreal the way I have this effect on Jack, the way every little thing I do seems to unravel him.

The friction is rough, direct, perfect. I can’t stop my hips from moving, grinding down against him, chasing the sparks of pleasure that ignite every ti our bodies drag together. Each roll forward makes shudder, heat coiling tighter and tighter inside .

His hands grip my hips like iron, guiding , dragging harder against him.

"That’s it, sunshine. Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop."

My breath stutters, high and uneven. The thin barrier between us my pajama shorts, his briefs —is soaked, clinging, leaving nothing to the imagination. Every shift is wet, hot, devastating.

"Jack—" I choke on his na, my voice breaking.

He tilts his head, lips finding mine again, kissing like I’m the only thing in his universe. His tongue sweeps in, hungry, taking, but it’s not cruel, not demanding. It’s worship, even in its desperation.

I moan into his mouth, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, holding on like I’ll drown if I let go.

I shudder, my hands tightening around his shoulders. He’s the anchor in the storm, the weight keeping from flying apart. My thighs tremble with the effort of moving, but he doesn’t let falter his hands gripping my hips and dragging harder against him, setting a pace that borders on brutal.

I moan, the sound spilling out of raw and needy.

"Look at you," he groans, his forehead pressing against mine. "So beautiful like this wrecked just from rubbing against ."

Heat rushes to my face, but the sha doesn’t land. Not with him. Not with Jack.

"Jack, I—" My voice cracks, pleading, as if he doesn’t already know.

"I’ve got you." His lips crush mine, swallowing the last of my restraint, his tongue claiming as much as his body does.

And I let go.

The pleasure hits in a rush, white-hot, tearing a cry from my throat that he swallows greedily. My body jerks, my thighs clamping tight around him, and I co undone in his arms.

Jack’s answering groan is guttural, primal. His hips snap up hard, desperate, until I feel the wet heat of him through the ruined fabric between us. He buries his face in my neck as he shudders, holding so close I can barely breathe.