Reborn as a villain:Claim the omega, Kiss the beta, Kill the dukes Chapter 86: Ew? Gross? Hot?[M]

Chapter 85

Ciel

Jack’s hands roam over like he owns every inch he touches, and maybe in that mont, he does. His hand around my cock is firm and steady, the rhythm unrelenting.

Every grind of his hips drags the cool tal of his piercing against my skin, and it’s too much — blinding, sharp pleasure that leaves half a heartbeat away from coming apart.

The thought slips through , hot and reckless — how it would feel if I let himin. If I let the line blur a little more. If I wasn’t stuck in my head.

Instead, I let the hunger thread itself through the sound Nolan makes above . His hand tightens in my hair, and that grounding pressure sends a shiver down my spine. His hips jerk forward, shaky and desperate, and the tremors in his thighs tell everything.

"Ciel," he gasps, voice breaking open. "Please."

His cock pulses against my tongue, hot and slick, and I push down the ache in my jaw, letting him use the way he’s holding back from asking for. Jack moves behind , faster now, his hand on matching the rhythm of his hips, and I can’t decide which sensation is louder — Nolan’s heat or Jack’s weight at my back.

Nolan’s restraint finally snaps, hips rolling forward in helpless need. My spine arches, a strangled sound caught in my throat.

The rhythm between the three of us blurs into sothing feral, sothing that hums in my veins and makes everything else fall away. My hands grip Nolan’s thighs like a lifeline. Jack groans low behind , a sound that sinks straight into my bones.

Nolan tries to warn , voice shaking. "Ciel, move— I’m—"

I don’t. I take him deeper. I want to feel him co undone, want the heat of it, the way he breaks when he lets go.

His breath stutters, hips faltering, and then he shudders — a rough sound slipping from him, sowhere between a sob and a sigh.

I swallow, the taste lingering on my tongue. It’s different from Jack that gives an intoxicating high probably caused by oga hormones, convincing my brain his cum tastes like chocolate.

I like it though, I really do. It’s grounding.

Nolan collapses against the sheets, boneless and flushed, breaths coming too fast. I pull away, lips swollen, jaw sore which makes sense because I’ve been sucking dick like it’s the Olympics today.

Jack doesn’t give a chance to breathe. He hooks an arm around and drags back against him. My spine hits his chest.His hand slides up my throat, not squeezing, just holding, guiding, and then his mouth is on mine.

Kissing , in a ssy wet kiss. His lips are hungry, demanding, and I lt into him, my body still trembling from the intensity of the mont.

***

Nolan

I’m floating. I swear I am.

There’s this heavy, sated weight in my chest, like the world stopped spinning just long enough to give a second of quiet. And then—

Jack grabs Ciel and kisses him like a damn movie scene.

My brain short-circuits.

I just... and he... did that.

But I just.... Ew.

And Ciel’s lting into him like that’s the most natural thing in the world. Which, okay, it kind of is when it cos to them. Jack kisses like he wants to eat him alive. Ciel tilts his head back like he’s been waiting for it.

It should be gross, right? The kiss?

But Jack doesn’t seem to mind at all.

It’s... hot.

Jack breaks the kiss and looks at — really looks at — with that stupid cocky grin that should be illegal. He winks.

I’m burning. My face is on fire. I’m pretty sure there is no difference between a tomato and I in our shades.

Jack leans in close, against Ciel’s ear, and whispers sothing low — too soft for to catch.

Whatever he says makes Ciel’s eyes snap open. They shine, hazy and dark, scarlet strands of hair clinging damply to his forehead. He looks at Jack, then at , then back at Jack again, like he’s trying to process sothing, like he’s deciding.

My pulse kicks up.

What’s going on?

Jack shifts his hands, slow, deliberate, guiding Ciel with a kind of easy authority that makes my chest tighten. He presses Ciel’s thighs together—not rough, but possessive, practiced... familiar.

And then my jaw actually drops.

Because Jack is fucking himself against Ciel’s thighs.

Just—shalessly.

So this is why sotis Ciel’s thighs have these faint reddish marks.

The only problem now is that it’s happening in fullview of . I can see everything: the drag of Jack’s cock through that tight, slick space, the glint of his piercing catching the afternoon light with every thrust, the steady rhythm that makes my pulse climb.

Ciel surrenders so easily it makes sothing coil tight in my stomach. I don’t understand this jealousy, or whom I’m jealous of do I want to be Jack or Ciel? I don’t fucking know.

His head falls back against Jack’s shoulder, lips parting, throat arching in a silent, wrecked moan like it’s being pulled straight out of him.

My breath catches sowhere between my chest and my throat.

Jack moves with control—hungry and precise. His jaw is tight, his hands gripping Ciel’s hips as though he owns every inch of him, each thrust dragging heat through the room like a spark catching tinder.

Ciel’s cock bounces from the movent, flushed and leaking, the sight obscene.

Jack tilts his head down, mouth brushing the side of Ciel’s neck. His lips find skin slick with sweat, and the sound Ciel makes in response rips right through .

My spent cock twitches weakly, rising to life again against all laws of human biology, because this—this is the filthiest, rawest, most devastating thing I’ve ever witnessed.

Ciel’s breathing turns ragged, shallow. His head lolls to the side, and he looks at through half-lidded eyes. Pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed scarlet, lips kiss-swollen.

His eyes pin to the spot, I can’t look away honestly even if I wanted to. I don’t think I could have.

Jack thrusts again, sharper this ti, and the soft slap of skin against skin short-circuits my brain. The rhythm is relentless, rciless, each glide dragging against Ciel’s cock in just the right way to pull another broken sound from his throat.

I’ve heard those sounds through closed doors before. Late nights. The kind that made my heart race and my chest ache with sothing I never said out loud.

And now I know exactly what they look like.

And I know, down to my bones, that this scene has burned itself into .

It’s never leaving my head. Not tomorrow. Not years from now. Not ever.

Jack’s pace shifts—subtle at first, then deliberate.

Not fast, not ssy. Controlled. Calculated.

He’s dragging every second out like he knows exactly what he’s doing to both of us.

His hands are spread wide across Ciel’s hips, thumbs pressing into flushed skin, holding him steady. Every thrust pushes Ciel a little forward, only for Jack to reel him right back in. It’s obscene, artful even, the way he moves.

Ciel gasps, low and broken, his fingers clutching at Jack’s forearms like he needs sothing to keep him from unraveling. His legs tremble, but Jack keeps them locked together, thighs pressed tight, giving himself the perfect space to thrust through.

Every thrust has his cock rubbing against his own stomach, leaving faint sars of precum across his flushed skin.

I can’t look away. I can’t.

Jack looks over Ciel’s shoulder at , smirking—lazy and wicked. "Like what you see, doggy?" he drawls, voice low and rough.

I can’t speak. If I open my mouth, sothing embarrassing will fall out.

The bed creaks softly beneath them, a quiet rhythm to match Jack’s thrusts. The sound of skin against skin fills the air, slick and hot.

Ciel tries to move his hands, maybe to reach down, but Jack catches one wrist and pins it gently against Ciel’s chest. Not hard, just enough to remind him who’s in control.

"Let ," Jack murmurs against his neck, voice like smoke.

Ciel trembles and nods without hesitation.

My fingers clutch the sheets. My chest is tight. My pulse is a drum in my ears.

Jack’s pace picks up the sa steady, asured movents. His breathing gets rougher, his hips hitting against Ciel with enough force to make the mattress shift beneath them.

Ciel’s moans grow desperate, climbing higher with each thrust. His cock twitches against his stomach, flushed and glistening, leaking freely. Jack’s hand slips from his hip to wrap around him, stroking in ti with his movents.

Ciel’s whole body arches, caught between Jack’s rhythm and his own unraveling.

Jack presses a kiss to the side of his throat, bites down gently—not to mark, just to ground him. "That’s it," he whispers against his skin.

"Co on, sunshine."

And Ciel shatters.

His cry is breathless and broken, hips jerking helplessly in Jack’s grip.

His cum splatters across his stomach and Jack’s hand, hot and slick, leaving pearlescent streaks on flushed skin. His entire body trembles like the world’s co undone beneath him. His head tips back, hair sticking to his sweat-slicked forehead, and the look on his face is almost too much to take in.

Jack doesn’t stop — not right away. His movents stutter, grow sharper, and then—

His breath hitches. His body goes rigid against Ciel’s back, every line in him drawn tight. The sound he makes is low and rough, vibrating through the air, through Ciel. He cos with a few hard, fast thrusts, spilling across Ciel’s thighs and stomach, so of it splattering across the sheets... and so of it — unfortunately — lands on .

I blink down at the streak on my thigh.

Well. That’s new.

And ?

Yeah. I’m fully hard again. Achingly so.

Jack glances over at , smug bastard that he is. That glint in his eye says everything — round two? — before his mouth even opens.

I can already hear the snark forming on his tongue.

But then—

"Jack?!"

The sound of Ivan’s voice echoes faintly up the stairs.

We all freeze.

Ivan calls again, louder this ti. "Jack! Are you up there?"

Oh my god.

Two hours. It’s been two hours?

Already?