Page 36 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
His knot was beginning to form now, catching slightly on my rim with each thrust, creating a delicious pressure that had me gasping. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on pain butsomehow circling back to pleasure, my body yielding to him completely.
“Look at how he stretches,” Mr. Enigma groaned. “Taking that knot so beautifully.”
“Perfect,” Mr. Storm growled, his eyes dark with hunger.
Their words, combined with the relentless assault on my senses, pushed me toward a third peak that seemed impossible yet inevitable. Every nerve ending in my body screamed with overstimulation, my skin electric with a pleasure so acute it transcended into something almost unbearable. I was drowning, consumed, obliterated—my consciousness splintering into fragments as the line between ecstasy and agony blurred beyond recognition. My body no longer felt like my own but rather a vessel for sensations so intense they threatened to tear me apart from the inside. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t remember anything but the overwhelming pressure building inside me, demanding release with a ferocity that made me wonder if I’d survive the explosion when it finally came.
With a final, devastating thrust, Mr. Iceflare buried himself to the hilt, his knot swelling to full size and locking us together with a finality that felt like fate. The pressure was exquisite torture, his knot pressing relentlessly against every hypersensitive nerve ending inside me, stretching me to my absolute limit. My third orgasm hit with the force of a supernova, because apparently, my body was going for some kind of record in the Omega Olympics. I didn’t just scream, I shattered, my voice breaking on a sound I’d never made before, something primal and surrendering that echoed off the walls as violent convulsions racked my body. My inner muscles clenched and spasmed around him with such force that tears streamed down my face from the overwhelming intensity.
This time, he followed me into oblivion. His roar was feral, ancient, a sound that bypassed civilization and tappeddirectly into something primordial. His entire body went rigid against mine as his release flooded me in scalding pulses that seemed to brand me from the inside out. Each throb of his cock triggered cascading aftershocks through my hypersensitive body, making me sob his title in broken, desperate fragments. If anyone had been recording this performance, I’d have died of embarrassment, world’s neediest omega, coming undone live on camera.
“Mr. Ice—” I couldn’t even complete the word, my voice fracturing as another wave hit. “Alpha… please… God… “
We remained locked together in this carnal fusion, not just physically joined but somehow metaphysically entangled. His thundering heartbeat became my own, our ragged breathing synchronizing as if we’d become a single organism. The scent of satisfied alpha enveloped me completely, not just surrounding me but permeating my skin, seeping into my bloodstream, rewriting my cellular memory. My omega instincts, usually a background hum I did my best to ignore, roared to life with a satisfaction so profound it felt like coming home to a place I’d never known existed. Traitor biology, always ready to sell me out for a good knot.
As reality slowly reassembled itself around us, my awareness expanded beyond the point where our bodies joined. The delicious ache in my muscles wasn’t just soreness but a physical record of what had happened, my body forever changed, marked, claimed. The evidence of my release wasn’t just cooling on our skin but symbolized something irrevocable, a contract written in the most primal ink. No backsies in the world of alpha-omega biology, apparently.
My heat had transformed from a raging inferno to a smoldering ember, but that ember felt different now, not just temporarily banked but fundamentally altered, as if it had been claimed and now answered to a new master. The heat wasn’tgone, but it had been… tamed. Redirected. Focused exclusively on him. My body had found its alpha and was now sending me the biological equivalent of “This one! We pick this one!” notifications.
When I finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, what I saw made my breath catch painfully in my throat. So much for my plan of “get knotted, save Dad, move on with life.”
His ice-blue eyes had transformed. The cold calculation that had earned him his nickname was gone, replaced by something ancient and terrifying in its intensity. This wasn’t just desire or even possession, it was absolute ownership. His gaze tracked over my features with such focused concentration it felt like he was memorizing every pore, every eyelash, cataloging me down to the cellular level. Something had awakened in him that transcended human emotion, something wolves would recognize, something that existed before language had words to describe it. I’d accidentally flipped the “mate” switch in an alpha mafia boss. Just another Tuesday in the life of Ty Hart, professional disaster.
The realization hit me with shocking clarity. This wasn’t a transaction anymore. This wasn’t a desperate omega seeking relief or an alpha satisfying a biological urge. What had just happened between us had rewritten something fundamental in both our biologies. The universe was having a good laugh at my expense. I’d come in looking for a one-night stand and somehow ended up with a lifetime subscription.
I hadn’t just taken his seed; I had inadvertently triggered something irrevocable. The alpha in him had claimed me at the most primal level, and there was no protocol for undoing that kind of bond. No paperwork to file, no breakup conversation to have, no “it’s not you, it’s me” speech that could undo what had just happened. What had awakened in him was somethingbeyond reason or negotiation, something that predated civilization itself. And me? I was the genius who’d triggered it.
Cold, crystalline terror bloomed in my chest as the full implications crashed over me. My hands began to tremble against his skin as the magnitude of what I’d done became clear. This wasn’t about conception anymore, or even survival in the immediate sense. When these alphas broke free, and they would—men like this always did—they wouldn’t just seek revenge for being used.
They would hunt me to the ends of the earth.
Not to kill me. Not to punish me.
But to reclaim what their biology now recognized as theirs on a level so fundamental it might as well be carved into their DNA.
Me.
I’d just graduated from “omega in trouble” to “omega who’s completely screwed,” and not just in the literal sense.
ten
. . .
The world had narrowed to a single point of sensation where Mr. Iceflare and I were joined. His knot pulsed inside me, stretching me to my limits and sending aftershocks of pleasure rippling through my body with each tiny movement. I lay sprawled under him, my limbs as useful as overcooked pasta, caught between the physical satisfaction of my heat being temporarily sated and the growing dread of what I’d just awakened in this dangerous alpha.
Well, that was one alpha down. Mission partially accomplished. De Luca would be thrilled. If alphas could get pregnant from the amount of cum Mr. Iceflare had just pumped into me, I’d be expecting quintuplets. But beneath my heat-drunk satisfaction lurked a new fear. The way he’d looked at me after knotting me, like I’d suddenly become something infinitely precious and permanently his. That wasn’t part of the plan. Get bred, save Dad, move on, not trigger some primal mating instinct in a mafia alpha who already had good reason to hunt me down.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” Mr. Iceflare murmured, his voice a deep rumble beneath my ear where it pressed against his chest. His hand stroked possessively down my side in a way that felt different from before, more proprietary, more certain.
“Sorry to disturb your post-orgasmic zen,” I replied, my voice still raspy from screaming. “Some of us have a lot on our minds. Like how I just got knotted by a mafia boss who’s now looking at me like I’m his favorite toy that someone tried to steal.” I swallowed hard, trying to mask my unease with sarcasm. “Though I guess that’s slightly better than the ‘I’m going to murder you when I get free’ vibe you were giving off earlier.”
His hand tightened on my hip, his knot tugging slightly inside me and drawing a gasp from my lips. “If I were going to murder you, little mouse, I wouldn’t have just spent the last hour making you scream.”
“Fair point. Though maybe you’re just into really delayed gratification.” I shifted slightly, wincing at the pleasant soreness between my legs. “How long does this usually last? The knot, I mean. Not the murder plans.”
“Impatient already?” Mr. Enigma asked from where he lounged on his own bed, stroking himself lazily as he watched us. “Don’t worry, little omega. I’ll be more than ready when it’s my turn.”
I glanced over at him, taking in his confident smirk and the impressive length he was casually displaying. Even after what I’d just experienced with Mr. Iceflare, the sight sent a fresh wave of heat through my core. Apparently, my omega biology hadn’t gotten the memo that I’d just had the most intense orgasms of my life.
