Page 43 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
With a final, forceful thrust, he buried himself completely, his knot expanding to full size and locking us together. The pressure against every sensitive spot inside me triggered another orgasm, this one even more intense than the last. I screamed,my body convulsing around him as pleasure consumed me completely.
He followed me over the edge with a growl that vibrated through my bones, his release filling me in hot surges that seemed endless. Each pulse triggered another aftershock that had me gasping incoherently.
For long minutes, we remained joined together, caught in the aftermath of something that had transcended the physical. His heart thundered against mine, his breath hot against my neck where his face was buried.
“That was unexpected,” I managed when I could finally form words again, my voice hoarse from screaming. “For a guy who barely speaks, you’re surprisingly expressive in other ways.”
A sound that might have been a laugh vibrated against my neck. “Actions over words,” he murmured.
With surprising gentleness, he gathered me in his arms, still locked together by his knot. The chain at his wrist clinked softly as he carried me to Mr. Iceflare’s bed, where the other alphas were already waiting like they’d known exactly where this was heading all along.
Mr. Iceflare immediately shifted to make room, his possessive gaze never leaving my face as Mr. Storm carefully positioned us on our sides. Before I could even catch my breath, Mr. Iceflare was settling behind me, his chest pressed against my back, his arm wrapping around my waist in a gesture that was both possessive and oddly protective.
“You still belong to me,” he murmured against my hair, because apparently alphas needed to state the obvious at every opportunity. “No matter who else touches you.”
“Pretty sure I have three sets of fingerprints all over me that say otherwise,” I pointed out, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the way I instinctively curled into his embrace. “Or did you miss the part where you all took turns claiming me?”
“Details,” Mr. Enigma said with a lazy smile as he stretched out alongside Mr. Storm, completing the circle of alpha around me. “The important thing is that we all got what we wanted. And so did you.”
I would have argued, would have pointed out that what I’d “wanted” was to save my father, not to be passed between three alpha mafia bosses like a party favor, but exhaustion was rapidly overtaking me. My heat had receded to a manageable warmth, my body limp with satisfaction and relief.
“Three for three,” Mr. Enigma murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on my sweat-dampened skin. “Mission accomplished.”
“Rest,” Mr. Storm said simply, his hand settling on my hip in a gesture that was oddly protective despite its possessiveness.
I was too exhausted to argue, too drained to maintain my usual defenses. Three alphas, three claims, three knots, even my heat-drunk biology recognized that I’d received more than enough alpha attention for one day.
As consciousness began to fade, I felt Mr. Iceflare’s arm tighten around my waist, pulling me more securely against his chest. His scent enveloped me, pine and power and possessiveness, soothing my omega instincts in a way I hadn’t known was possible.
“You are ours now,” he murmured against my hair, the words carrying none of his earlier aggression, just a simple statement of fact.
“Whatever you say, alpha,” I mumbled, too exhausted to fight the truth of it anymore. At least for now, in this moment, I belonged to them, all three of them, in different but equally consuming ways.
As sleep claimed me, my last coherent thought was that I’d accomplished my mission, three alpha seeds acquired, De Luca’s demands met, my father’s safety secured for another day.Whatever happened tomorrow, whatever consequences awaited me when these alphas eventually broke free, I’d deal with then.
One catastrophe at a time, as was the Hart family motto.
eleven
. . .
Anders Knight stared at the ceiling, mapping escape routes in his mind as the chain draped across his chest. Every muscle in his body hummed with a complex mix of satisfaction and strategic calculation. Ty’s warm weight against him was both unexpected complication and primal satisfaction.
It had been three hours since Ty had fallen asleep in his arms. Three hours of plotting their next move while listening to the little omega’s steady breathing.
Beside him, Conall shifted on his own bed, the chain at his wrist clinking softly against the frame. The sound drew Anders’ attention to his sworn brother’s face—the tightness around his green eyes, the muscle working in his jaw. Conall had always been the most expressive of the three of them, his emotions closer to the surface.
“He’s still out,” Conall said, his voice low enough not to disturb their sleeping companion. “Didn’t think he’d actually stay.”
“He was exhausted,” Anders replied, his hand unconsciously tightening around Ty’s waist. The omega stirred in his sleep,mumbling something incoherent before settling again, his face pressed against Anders’ chest.
Wyatt watched them from his position, his stormy eyes cataloging every detail. “This complicates things.”
Anders didn’t need to ask what “things” Wyatt meant. Their escape. Their vengeance. Their future. The boy in his arms represented a variable none of them had anticipated—one that was rapidly becoming more significant than it should be.
“He’s just an omega in heat,” Anders said, though the words sounded hollow even to his own ears. “A temporary distraction.”
“Is that why your scent changes every time he moves?” Wyatt asked, his quiet voice carrying no judgment, only observation. “Why your heart rate increases when he makes those little sounds in his sleep?”
