Page 28 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“De Luca’s special delivery,” I replied, gesturing vaguely at my oil-slicked skin. “Apparently, I wasn’t irresistible enough, so he decided to up the ante. Consider this the omega equivalent of a neon sign flashing Breed Me in forty-foot letters. Though I’d have preferred a billboard. Less sticky.”
“It’s working,” Mr. Enigma said, his green eyes darkening as he inhaled deeply. “You smell… Fuck, you smell incredible.”
“Enticing,” Mr. Storm said quietly, his eyes tracking the beads of sweat rolling down my neck.
Another cramp hit me, so severe that my knees buckled. I dropped to all fours on the cold marble floor, a broken sound escaping as the pain tore through me. The scent of desperate omega filled the room so completely that I heard all three alphasgrowl in response. Great. Now I was literally prostrating myself before them. Could this get any more humiliating?
I pushed myself up on shaky legs, aware that I needed to approach one of them. My eyes drifted to Mr. Iceflare, whose ice-blue gaze seemed to pull me in with irresistible force.
“Stubborn little mouse,” he said, his chain stretching to the limit. “Come here before you collapse again.”
“So demanding,” I replied, taking an unsteady step toward him. “Do you use that tone with everyone, or am I just special?”
“You’re something,” he agreed, his eyes never leaving mine as I approached. “Though ‘special’ isn’t the word I’d use.”
The moment I was close, his chain-free hand shot out, pulling me against his chest with surprising gentleness. In one fluid motion, he lifted me as if I weighed nothing, carrying me to his bed.
“If I had known all it took was a heat crisis to get this kind of VIP treatment, I’d have skipped the suppressants years ago,” I quipped, inhaling his scent like it was oxygen and I was drowning. “Though the whole ‘mafia dungeon’ thing is a bit much for a first date.”
He set me down on his bed, his eyes scanning my face with an intensity that made me want to squirm. “Heat toxicity,” he said, not a question but a statement. “How long?”
“Since this morning,” I replied, wrapping my arms around myself as another shiver racked my body. “Getting worse by the hour. I’ve moved from ‘uncomfortable’ to ‘potentially dying’ on the heat scale. It’s been a real journey. Zero stars, would not recommend.”
Mr. Enigma approached, settling at the edge of Mr. Iceflare’s bed. Mr. Storm similarly positioned himself nearby. I was surrounded by alpha, their combined scents making my head spin with need.
“He needs relief,” Mr. Enigma said to Mr. Iceflare. “Real relief this time.”
“I know,” Mr. Iceflare replied, his jaw tight. He turned back to me, his expression unreadable. “Yesterday wasn’t enough.”
I managed a weak smile despite the tremors running through me. “What gave it away? The collapse or the mess I’m currently making on your sheets.”
“Changed,” Mr. Storm said, his quiet voice carrying weight. “Sweeter. Urgent.”
Mr. Iceflare placed a cool hand against my forehead, his touch gentle despite the tension radiating from him. “You’re burning up.”
“That’s what happens when your biology decides death by horniness is an acceptable evolutionary strategy,” I said, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the way I instinctively leaned into his touch. “Omega design flaws, exhibit A through Z. Someone should really file a complaint with management. ‘Dear Evolution, your omega model is defective. Please send replacement parts or a full refund.’”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, his nostrils flaring as he caught another wave of my amplified scent. “Lie back,” he commanded, his voice dropping to a register that made my inner omega stand at attention.
I hesitated, my eyes darting between the three alphas. Any of them could help me, would help me, if I played this right. But something about Mr. Iceflare pulled me to him first, like a moth to a particularly dangerous flame. Maybe it was the way he looked at me, like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve but was determined to figure out.
“Why?” I asked, deliberately challenging despite my condition. “Planning to take my temperature? Because I’m pretty sure there are more fun ways to do that than a thermometer.”
“I’m planning to give you relief,” he said, his voice like gravel wrapped in silk. “But only if you behave.”
“Define ‘behave,’” I countered, even as I slowly reclined against his pillows. “Because if you mean ‘lie there like a dead fish,’ I should warn you that’s not really in my repertoire. I’m more of a ‘thrash around dramatically while making inappropriate comments’ kind of omega.”
“He means ‘do as you’re told,’” Mr. Enigma supplied, his green eyes gleaming with amusement despite the tension in the room. “A challenging concept for you, I imagine.”
“I can be very obedient when properly motivated,” I replied, stretching deliberately to display my body to the best advantage. The movement intensified my scent, drawing another collective growl from the alphas. “And right now, my motivation is not dying of heat toxicity. Amazing what that’ll do for one’s cooperative spirit.”
“We’ll see,” Mr. Iceflare said, his voice a dangerous purr. He moved over me, his powerful body caging mine without touching. “Hands above your head.”
My heart hammered against my ribs, a mixture of fear and anticipation making my breath catch. I raised my arms slowly, crossing my wrists above my head in what I hoped was an enticing display of submission. “Like this?” I asked, watching his eyes darken as he took in the subservient pose. “Or would you prefer a more artistic arrangement? I could try for ‘damsel in distress’ or maybe ‘reluctant sacrifice to the alpha gods.’”
“Perfect,” he murmured, his gaze tracking over my exposed body with predatory intensity. “Now stay still.”
Before I could respond with another quip, he lowered his head to my neck, his nose tracing the line of my throat where my scent was strongest. The contact sent electric shocks racing through my system, my back arching involuntarily despite hiscommand to stay still. Every nerve ending suddenly awakened, screaming for more contact.
