Page 41 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
For several long moments, we stayed locked together, joined in the aftermath of something primal and consuming. His heart hammered against mine, his chest heaving with exertion. The scent of satisfied alpha surrounded me, mingling with Mr. Iceflare’s lingering claim, creating a potent blend that subdued my omega instincts in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
“Two down,” Mr. Enigma murmured against my temple, his voice a satisfied purr. “One to go.”
I glanced over at Mr. Storm, who watched us with an intensity that made my breath catch. Unlike the others’ more demonstrative approaches, his hunger was contained, measured, but no less powerful for its restraint.
“Don’t worry, little mouse,” Mr. Enigma continued, following my gaze. “He’ll take good care of you too. In his own way.”
“And what way is that?” I asked, unable to keep the nervous edge from my voice. Mr. Storm’s quiet intensity was somehowmore intimidating than Mr. Iceflare’s cold fury or Mr. Enigma’s playful seduction.
“You’ll see,” Mr. Iceflare said, his hand still tangled in my hair. “Soon enough.”
As Mr. Enigma’s knot began to subside, I couldn’t help but wonder what exactly I’d gotten myself into. Two alphas down, one to go—and something told me Mr. Storm would be entirely different from either of his brothers.
One catastrophe at a time, I reminded myself. Save Dad first, worry about the consequences later.
But as Mr. Storm’s eyes met mine across the room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that the consequences were already here, already in motion, already inescapable.
As Mr. Enigma’s knot finally slipped free, I couldn’t hold back a wince. I felt empty, and a flood of his release trickled down my thighs to join Mr. Iceflare’s from earlier. I should have been mortified by the mess, but apparently my heat-addled brain found being thoroughly marked by alpha cum oddly satisfying. Great. Add that to my growing list of “Things I Never Knew About Myself Until Being Kidnapped by Mafia Alphas.”
“Your turn, brother,” Mr. Enigma called to Mr. Storm, sounding entirely too cheerful for someone who’d just used me like his personal omega playground. “Though I doubt you’ve been patient for my sake.”
Mr. Storm didn’t respond verbally. No surprise there, the guy treated words like they cost him a thousand dollars each. But his stormy eyes said plenty as they raked over my body with an intensity that made my skin prickle. Where Mr. Iceflare’s gaze had been possessive ice and Mr. Enigma’s playful fire, Mr. Storm’s was the calm before a devastating storm, the kind that makes sensible people board up windows and evacuate coastal areas.
Mr. Silent-and-Scary rose from his bed. The chain at his wrist made a single, ominous clink as he approached, and I swear the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees under his stormy gaze.
“I’m done waiting,” he announced, and his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, pulling me from Mr. Enigma’s bed with a strength that left no room for negotiation. The chain rattled sharply with the sudden movement, a metallic warning I ignored at my peril.
“Hey!” I protested, though my treacherous body betrayed my excitement. “A little warning would be nice!”
Instead of responding, he backed me against the nearest wall, caging me with his powerful body. The contrast between his silent observation earlier and this sudden caveman routine should have terrified me. Instead, it sent another wave of heat straight to my core, because apparently my omega instincts had terrible taste in men.
“What happened to being the strong, silent type?” I gasped as his hands gripped my thighs, lifting me effortlessly until my legs had no choice but to wrap around his waist. The chain swung between us, occasionally brushing against my overheated skin, a cold reminder of our captivity. “This seems pretty forward for someone who’s been playing statue all day.”
“I save my words for what matters,” he replied, his voice rough like crushed gravel. “And my actions for what I want.”
The implication, that he wanted me badly enough to act, shouldn’t have sent another rush of heat through me, but my body and brain were clearly no longer on speaking terms. Before I could think of a comeback, he thrust into me with one powerful motion that knocked the breath from my lungs and sent white-hot pleasure ricocheting through my core.
“Fuck!” I gasped, my head falling back against the wall with a thud that I’d probably feel tomorrow. If I survived tonight, thatis. “A little warning next time? Or is foreplay just not in your vocabulary?”
“No more waiting,” he growled, establishing a rhythm that made Mr. Iceflare’s dominance and Mr. Enigma’s playfulness seem tame in comparison. Each thrust drove me harder against the wall, the chain at his wrist rattling with every movement, creating a metallic soundtrack to my undoing.
From across the room, I could feel Mr. Iceflare and Mr. Enigma watching, their gazes heavy with renewed interest. Mr. Iceflare’s chain rattled softly as he shifted position, his expression a complex mixture of possessive rage and lust that would have been fascinating if I weren’t currently being fucked into next Tuesday by his stoic brother.
“Look at him take it,” Mr. Enigma commented, because apparently my dignity wasn’t in tatters enough. “He’s fucking incredible.”
“For us,” Mr. Iceflare corrected, his possessive tone making it clear that while he might be sharing, he wasn’t relinquishing his claim. “Made for all of us.”
I would have rolled my eyes if they weren’t currently threatening to roll back in my head from pleasure. “Still right here,” I managed between gasps. “Still not furniture. Still not a shared toy.”
My retort dissolved into a groan as Mr. Storm changed his angle slightly, hitting a spot inside me that fractured my vision into kaleidoscope patterns. His mouth found my neck, teeth grazing my scent gland with a precision that sent currents of electricity racing through my system.
“You’ve been watching,” I accused, struggling to maintain some semblance of coherent thought as he systematically dismantled my defenses. “Studying me like some creepy alpha scientist.”
“Yes,” he admitted without a hint of shame, his breath hot against my throat. “Learning what makes you break apart.”
“That’s not creepy at all,” I gasped, the sarcasm somewhat undermined by the way my body clenched around him, drawing him deeper. “Very normal, healthy behavior. Five stars, would recommend to a friend.”
A sound escaped him that might have been a laugh if it hadn’t been so predatory. His hands adjusted their grip, lifting me slightly to change the angle of penetration. The new position sent him even deeper, hitting spots inside me that had me biting my lip to hold back embarrassing noises.
