Page 24 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“Yes, Mr. Iceflare,” Ty replied, the formal address sending a jolt of satisfaction through Anders’ veins.
“Good boy,” Anders praised, enjoying the way Ty’s scent sweetened at the words despite the flash of irritation in his eyes. “Now, tell me what you want. Be specific.”
Ty’s face flamed, but desperation won out over pride. “Please… I want you to touch me,” he said, the words coming out in a rush.
“Already begging and I’ve barely touched you,” Anders murmured, lowering his head to the sensitive skin of Ty’s neck. “I wonder what you’ll sound like when I really get started.”
“Probably like a bad phone connection, lots of static and unintelligible noises,” Ty quipped, though his breath hitched when Anders’ lips brushed his pulse point.
Anders inhaled deeply at the source, where Ty’s scent was most concentrated, most intoxicating. The fragrance bypassed all rational thought, triggering something primal in his alpha hindbrain—a recognition of rare, precious compatibility that he couldn’t yet consciously identify.
“Your scent is extraordinary,” Anders murmured against the pulse point, feeling it jump beneath his lips. “Like nothing I’ve ever encountered before.”
Across the room, Conall shifted, his green eyes darkening as he caught the concentrated wave of Ty’s pheromones. “It’s affecting all of us,” he said, his voice rougher than usual. “Even from here, it’s overwhelming.”
“Fantastic,” Ty said, though his body arched instinctively as Anders’ lips traced a path down his throat. “I’ve always wanted to be a science experiment. ‘The Curious Case of the Overly Fragrant Omega.’ Bestseller material right there.”
Anders couldn’t help the low chuckle that escaped against Ty’s skin. “Even now, you can’t help yourself, can you? Always that sharp tongue.”
“It’s my best feature,” Ty gasped as Anders bit down gently at the junction of neck and shoulder. “Well, that and my baking skills. Everything else is just standard omega packaging.”
“There’s nothing standard about you,” Anders growled, the admission escaping before he could stop it. He traced a path down Ty’s chest, drawn to the hardened nipples that seemed almost too sensitive for a male omega. When he took one between his lips, Ty’s reaction was explosive—his back arching off the bed, a broken cry escaping his throat.
“Fuck,” Ty gasped, his hands flying to Anders’ shoulders, fingers digging into muscle. “That’s… that’s not playing fair.”
“I never claimed to play fair, little mouse,” Anders murmured against his skin, continuing his downward exploration. “Only to give you what you need.”
Conall approached the bed. “Hope you don’t mind company,” he said to Ty with a wicked grin that didn’t quite hide the strain of his self-control. “We’ve always been good at sharing.”
“Oh good, a tag team,” Ty remarked, though his scent revealed his interest despite his words. “Is this where I make a sports metaphor about balls and scoring? Because I’ve got several lined up.”
Conall laughed, the sound warming the clinical space as he settled beside them on the bed. “I’d love to hear them all,” he said, running his hands up Ty’s trembling thighs. “Especially when you’re too incoherent to finish the punch lines.”
“Bold of you to assume I’ll lose my wit just because—oh!” Ty’s retort cut off in a gasp as Conall leaned down to take his other nipple between his lips, creating a dual sensation that had him writhing between the alphas.
“You were saying?” Anders murmured against his skin, moving lower to trace the subtle definition of Ty’s abdomen.
“I was saying—fuck!—that you two are the worst,” Ty managed, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the way his body arched into their touch. “Teaming up on me like this is—ah!—completely unfair odds.”
“Wait until Mr. Storm joins us,” Conall murmured, releasing Ty’s nipple with a wet pop. “Then you’ll really be outnumbered.”
From his position across the room, Wyatt watched with intense focus, cataloging every reaction, every sound, every shift in Ty’s scent. Unlike his brothers’ more demonstrative approaches, Wyatt’s hunger was contained, measured, but no less powerful for its restraint.
“Unique,” Wyatt said, his eyes dark as he approached the bed.
“Even with one word you make me sound like a lab specimen,” Ty managed between gasps as Anders’ mouth moved dangerously close to his straining cock. “Next you’ll be taking notes.”
Wyatt’s lips twitched in what might have been a smile. “Already am.”
“Oh God,” Ty groaned, though a startled laugh escaped him. “Of course you are. Should I be concerned?”
“Be concerned about what I’m about to do to you,” Anders growled, hovering his mouth just above Ty’s cock. “If you can still form complete sentences, we’re not doing our job properly.”
“That sounds like a challenge,” Conall remarked, his fingers tracing patterns on Ty’s chest. “I bet I can make him forget words entirely.”
“You’re both awfully confident for two alphas who—fuck!” Ty’s comeback dissolved into a cry as Anders finally took him into his mouth, engulfing his cock in wet heat without warning.
The taste exploded across Anders’ tongue—sweet and clean, with notes that matched Ty’s unique scent. It was addictive, triggering a possessive hunger he’d never experienced before. His alpha instincts roared with the need to claim, to mark, to own this omega who tasted like nothing he’d ever encountered.
