Page 29 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“I said,” he growled against my skin, “stay still.”
“Trying,” I gasped, my body betraying me completely. “But my body’s not exactly taking orders from my brain right now. We’re experiencing some communication issues. Please hold while I reconnect the wires between my brain and my omega instincts.”
“His scent is stronger at the glands,” Mr. Enigma said, leaning closer. “Look how they’re swollen. I’ve never seen an omega respond like this.”
“Different,” Mr. Storm said quietly, his eyes never leaving my face.
Mr. Iceflare’s mouth opened against my scent gland, teeth grazing the sensitive skin without breaking it. The sensation was so intense I nearly came on the spot, a broken sound escaping my throat as pleasure jolted through my entire body. His tongue followed, hot and wet against the sensitive gland, tasting the oil-enhanced pheromones I was pumping out.
“Fuck,” he growled, the word vibrating against my pulse point. “You taste even better than you smell.”
“I bet he tastes good everywhere,” Mr. Enigma suggested, shifting restlessly. “Every. Single. Inch.”
The implication sent another wave of heat through me, my cock hardening further against my stomach. Mr. Iceflare seemed to take the suggestion as a challenge, his mouth continuing its downward exploration with deliberate slowness.
His lips trailed across my collarbone, down my chest, pausing to pay special attention to my nipples, which were just as sensitive as the rest of me. When he took one between his teeth, tugging gently, I couldn’t hold back a cry of pleasure. The sensation was electric, shooting straight to my core and making my back arch off the bed.
“Interesting,” he said, his breath hot against the sensitized peak. “Most male omegas don’t respond this strongly here.”
“Maybe I’m—ah!—not most male omegas,” I gasped as he switched to the other nipple, giving it the same thorough attention. The wet heat of his mouth combined with the gentle scrape of teeth had me writhing beneath him, desperate for more. “I'm a special snowflake. One of a kind. Limited edition. No other models available.”
“Clearly,” he agreed, his hands finally coming into play, stroking down my sides with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the hungry intensity of his gaze.
“Look how smooth his skin is,” Mr. Enigma remarked. “Like silk.”
“Distinctive,” Mr. Storm said.
I would have had a witty comeback ready if I could think straight, but the sensation of Mr. Iceflare’s hands on my skin had reduced my vocabulary to incoherent sounds of pleasure. He continued his downward exploration, his mouth trailing over my stomach, dipping into my navel, following the path downward where not even the finest hair grew, another oddity of my omega biology that had always made me self-conscious. Just another way my body screamed “different” when all I’d ever wanted was to blend in.
When he reached my straining cock, he paused, looking up at me with a predatory smile that made my breath catch.
“Please,” I whispered, the word escaping before I could stop it.
“Please what?” he prompted, his breath teasing against my sensitive skin. “Tell me exactly what you want, little mouse.”
“Your mouth,” I begged, beyond shame now. “Please, I need your mouth on me.”
He rewarded my pleading with a slow lick from base to tip that had my hips bucking off the bed. The wet heat of his tongueagainst my most sensitive flesh sent shock waves of pleasure racing through me, my hands fisting in the sheets above my head.
“Like this?” he asked, his voice a dangerous rumble that vibrated through my core.
“Yes,” I gasped, my thighs trembling as he repeated the action. “Please, more.”
Instead of giving me what I’d asked for, he moved lower, his hands pushing my thighs wider to expose me completely. I should have felt vulnerable, spread open like this with three alphas watching, but the heat had burned away most of my shame hours ago. There wasn’t room for embarrassment when my body was literally killing me with need.
“So ready,” he murmured, one finger exploring between my legs. “I’ve never seen an omega respond so intensely.”
“Smells fucking incredible,” Mr. Enigma added. “Like honey and jasmine and something else. Something addictive.”
Mr. Iceflare lowered his head and licked a broad stripe through my slick, his tongue hot and insistent against my entrance. The sensation was so unexpected, so intense, that I cried out, my back arching off the bed. Every nerve ending fired simultaneously, overwhelming my senses completely.
“Oh God,” I gasped, my hands flying down to tangle in his dark hair despite his earlier command to keep them above my head. “What are you…”
“Tasting what’s mine,” he growled against me, the vibration sending new waves of sensation racing through my hypersensitive body. His tongue circled my entrance before pushing inside, the wet heat making stars explode behind my eyes. It should have been humiliating, having an alpha’s face buried between my thighs, his tongue delving into places I’d never been touched before. Instead, it was transcendent.
“Fuck, look at him take it,” Mr. Enigma groaned. “Like he was made for this. Made for us.”
“Ours,” Mr. Storm said, his voice rough with desire.
