Page 39 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“You like watching,” Mr. Storm stated quietly. “Always have.”
The chain at Mr. Iceflare’s wrist clinked softly as he shifted, clearly uncomfortable with Mr. Storm’s observation but notdenying it. The dynamic between these three was fascinating, competitive yet cooperative, possessive yet willing to share.
“I’m right here, you know,” I reminded them again, increasingly frustrated by their discussion of me as if I weren’t present. “And getting more desperate by the second. So if you could maybe focus less on your weird alpha threesome dynamics and more on the omega in heat, that would be great.”
Mr. Enigma’s laugh vibrated against my thigh where his mouth had been pressing kisses. “He’s right, you know. We’re being terrible hosts.” His eyes met mine, gleaming with mischief. “Allow me to make it up to you.”
And then he took my cock into his mouth, the sudden wet heat enveloping me completely. I cried out, my back arching off the bed as pleasure surged through me with stunning intensity. After all the teasing, the direct stimulation was almost overwhelming.
“Keep your eyes on me,” Mr. Iceflare commanded again, his voice rough with need as he watched my reaction. His free hand moved to my chest, fingers finding my nipple and pinching just hard enough to send jolts of pleasure-pain racing through me.
The dual sensation, Mr. Enigma’s mouth on my cock and Mr. Iceflare’s hand on my chest, was overwhelming. I gasped, my body arching between them, caught in a web of pleasure that threatened to consume me completely.
Mr. Enigma’s technique was entirely different from Mr. Iceflare’s direct approach. He teased, alternating between deep suction and light, fluttering licks that kept me on the edge without pushing me over. His hands roamed my body, exploring with a thoroughness that suggested he was memorizing every inch.
Meanwhile, Mr. Iceflare continued his own assault on my senses, his mouth finding mine in a kiss that was no less demanding for its unexpectedness. His tongue invaded mymouth with the same thoroughness he’d shown earlier, claiming me even as Mr. Enigma worked between my legs.
“He tastes like you,” Mr. Iceflare growled against my lips, the possessive satisfaction in his voice sending a shiver down my spine. “Marked inside and out.”
“For now,” Mr. Enigma replied, pulling off my cock just long enough to speak. “Soon he’ll taste like both of us.”
The thought should have disgusted me, being passed between them like a shared dessert, marked by multiple alphas as if I were territory to be claimed. Instead, it sent another wave of heat coursing through me, my body responding to the idea of being wanted so completely by these powerful men.
“You want this,” Mr. Storm said, his quiet voice carrying an edge of hunger.
“I like not dying of heat,” I countered, though the breathiness of my voice undermined my attempt at indifference. “The rest is just biology.”
“Liar,” Mr. Enigma murmured against my inner thigh, where he was now pressing open-mouthed kisses that made my skin tingle. “Your scent spikes every time we talk about sharing you. About all of us claiming you.”
“Just get on with it,” I gasped.
Mr. Enigma’s smile was predatory as he moved up my body, positioning himself between my spread thighs. The chain at his wrist clinked softly as he moved, a reminder of the captivity that gave me the courage to be here at all.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he purred, the head of his cock nudging against my entrance. “Ready for something different, little mouse?”
“Please, just fuck me already,” I demanded, beyond patience now.
He laughed, the sound rich and warm. “So demanding. I like it.”
He pushed forward, entering me in one smooth thrust that had me gasping. He was different from Mr. Iceflare, not quite as thick but slightly longer, the head more pronounced as it stretched me open. The sensation was exquisite, the pressure building as he worked himself deeper, inch by torturous inch.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his hands gripping my thighs with bruising force. “You’re still so tight, even after him.”
“Perfect,” Mr. Storm growled, his hand moving faster over his own length.
Mr. Iceflare’s hand moved to my throat, not squeezing but resting there, a reminder of his claim even as Mr. Enigma moved inside me. “Mine,” he growled, his eyes never leaving my face. “No matter who else touches you.”
The possessiveness in his voice should have angered me, should have triggered all my instincts for independence and self-determination. Instead, it sent another wave of heat coursing through me, my body clenching around Mr. Enigma’s cock in a way that made him groan.
“Ours,” Mr. Enigma corrected, though there was no real challenge in it, more an acknowledgment of a shared understanding between the alphas. “Always ours.”
He began to move, establishing a rhythm that was entirely different from Mr. Iceflare’s relentless pace. Where Mr. Iceflare had been all power and possession, Mr. Enigma was fluid grace and deliberate pleasure—each thrust calculated to hit exactly the right spot, each withdrawal timed to build anticipation for the next drive forward.
Mr. Iceflare’s hand moved from my throat to my hair, gripping the strands and turning my head for another possessive kiss. The contrast was dizzying, Mr. Enigma’s cock moving inside me while Mr. Iceflare’s tongue invaded my mouth, both claiming me in their own way.
“Look at him taking both of us,” Mr. Enigma said to Mr. Storm, his voice strained with the effort of control.
“Beautiful,” Mr. Storm declared, his eyes never leaving my face.
