Page 116 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
His tongue delved deeper, tasting me, exploring every corner of my mouth with a thoroughness that made my knees weak. The kiss wasn’t just a meeting of mouths; it was an assertion of power, dominance—and despite my struggles, my body surrendered completely. His taste was intoxicating, dark and rich and dangerous. Like sin and salvation in equal measure.
He angled my head back, deepening the kiss until I could barely breathe. His tongue tangled with mine, coaxing a response even as I tried to resist. The hot slide of it against mine sent electric shocks down my spine, pooling molten heat in my core. I hated myself for it, hated the omega biology that made me respond to his dominance even as I fought against him.
A shameful moan escaped me, swallowed by his hungry mouth as his hands slid down to grip my waist, fingers digging into my flesh with bruising intensity. He used the sound to push deeper, his tongue stroking against mine in a rhythm that mimicked something far more intimate, making my insides clench with need.
My treacherous omega instincts purred at the contact while my brain screamed in protest. Heat pooled low in my belly, my scent glands throbbing painfully as they released pheromones in response to his dominant presence. I hated my body’s betrayal, hated the way it recognized him as alpha, as mate, even as my mind rebelled against the very idea.
When he finally pulled away, I gasped for air, my chest heaving with panic and unwanted arousal. His eyes had darkened to midnight blue, pupils dilated with a hunger that terrified me.
His powerful arms enveloped me completely as he lifted me from the ground with ease. I kicked and thrashed, my fists pounding against his chest to no effect. The solid wall of muscle beneath my hands was achingly familiar—I’d mapped every inch of it with my fingers, my lips, my tongue during those weeks of captivity.
“Put me down!” I struggled against his iron grip. “I’m not a sack of potatoes! I’m here to save my father. De Luca?—”
“De Luca is no longer a concern,” he growled, tightening his grip until I could barely breathe. “And now we’re taking what’s ours.”
I stared at him in confusion and terror. “What are you talking about? What could I possibly have that’s yours?”
His chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating against mine where our bodies pressed together. One large hand slid between us, coming to rest with possessive intent over my stomach.
“Your scent has changed, little mouse. You reek of fertility… and of us. I may not know which of us is responsible yet, but that hardly matters.”
The words sent me spiraling into panic. How could he possibly know? But here was this alpha, declaring my conditionwith absolute certainty. Alphas shouldn’t be able to detect pregnancy this early unless…
Unless they were the sire.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whispered, terror making my voice thin.
His eyes narrowed, and he leaned in close, inhaling deeply at my neck where my scent was strongest. The sensation of his nose dragging along my scent gland made me shudder involuntarily, my body arching toward him without my permission.
“Lie to yourself if you want, but don’t lie to me,” he murmured against my skin, his breath hot against my sensitized flesh. “Your body knows the truth even if you deny it. Your crime, little mouse, was taking something that belongs to me. To us. And now we’re taking it back.”
As he carried me away from the room that had offered a false sense of sanctuary, I was acutely aware of his heartbeat against my own—a steady, implacable rhythm that mocked my racing pulse.
“Just so we’re clear,” I said, my voice breaking despite my attempt at defiance, “if this is a kidnapping, it’s my second, and I’m really not interested in making it a habit.”
His grip tightened, but not painfully, and he paused at the threshold, his ice-blue eyes boring into mine with an intensity that stole my breath.
“This isn’t a kidnapping,” he said. “This is a claiming. And unlike De Luca’s pathetic excuse for captivity, our bond has no escape. No end. Because you belong with us, little thief. You always have.”
The absolute certainty in his voice sent a treacherous heat pooling between my thighs. As he carried me through corridors littered with the bodies of De Luca’s men, Mr. Enigma and Mr. Storm fell into step behind us. I realized I was exchanging onecaptivity for another, but this one was infinitely more dangerous because part of me wanted it.
I caught Mr. Enigma’s vivid green eyes over Mr. Iceflare’s shoulder, and my breath caught painfully in my chest. His usual playful demeanor was gone, replaced by something darker, hungrier. His gaze burned with a predatory intensity, yet beneath it, I caught a flash of what might have been relief, the same relief I’d glimpsed in Mr. Iceflare’s eyes.
Beside him, Mr. Storm’s stormy gray eyes flickered deliberately to my abdomen before meeting mine with such raw, possessive hunger that my inner omega practically purred in response. Both men looked at me like I was simultaneously prey to be devoured and a treasure to be protected, a contradiction that promised both pleasure and pain in equal measure. These weren’t the chained men I’d been forced to touch in De Luca’s dungeon. These were apex predators, fully awake, fully aware, and determined to reclaim what they considered theirs.
“My father,” I managed to choke out as Mr. Iceflare carried me through a corridor lined with fallen guards. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”
None of them answered, their silence more unnerving than any threat. As we emerged into the courtyard, I caught a glimpse of black SUVs waiting, engines running. My rescue mission had failed spectacularly, and I was now exactly where I’d fought so hard not to be—back in the clutches of the three alphas who had claimed me so thoroughly.
Yet as Mr. Iceflare placed me in the back seat of the lead vehicle, sliding in beside me with a predatory grace that made my pulse quicken, I couldn’t deny the treacherous thought that whispered through my mind: after months of running, of hiding, of denying what my body craved…
I was finally going home.
twenty-seven
. . .
Anders Knight froze in the center of Ty’s bedroom, his entire body going rigid as the scent hit him. His nostrils flared, drawing in another deep breath that sent a primal surge of possessiveness crashing through him like a tidal wave.
