Page 46 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“What, is this really the time for personal hygiene?” Ty mumbled, his head lolling against Anders’ shoulder as his hands continued to roam desperately over the alpha’s chest and shoulders. “I mean, I appreciate your commitment to cleanliness, but I’m pretty sure I’m dying here. Unless you have some weird shower fetish I should know about.”
“Your core temperature is dangerously high,” Anders cut him off, carrying Ty through the doorway into the small bathroom. “Cold water first, then relief.”
Conall and Wyatt followed immediately, their chains extending to their full length to allow them into the cramped space. Anders noted that both were already fully hard, their alpha biology responding instantly to Ty’s distress. Wyatt’s normally stoic expression had given way to something hungrier,more primal, while Conall’s usual playfulness had been replaced by focused intensity.
“No omega should have to suffer like this,” Conall growled, his hands already reaching for the shower controls. “This fucking biology is barbaric.”
Anders stepped into the shower stall with Ty still in his arms and reached for the tap with one hand. Cold water cascaded over them both, drawing a shocked gasp from the omega.
“Holy mother of—are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Ty yelped, his body jerking in Anders’ hold. “A little warning before the arctic plunge would’ve been nice! I know I said I was burning up, but I didn’t mean it literally enough to warrant hypothermia as the solution!”
Despite his complaints, the cold water had an immediate effect on Ty’s overheated skin. His cock remained hard against his stomach, flushed an angry red and leaking continuously despite the cold—further evidence of how severe his condition had become.
“The water will lower your fever while I take care of the rest,” Anders explained, adjusting his grip to press Ty against the shower wall. His legs wrapped around Anders’ waist instinctively, his body seeking what it needed despite his verbal protests.
“Two-for-one special,” Ty said through chattering teeth, his attempt at sarcasm undermined by the desperate way his body arched against Anders. “C-cooling and f-fucking. Very efficient of you. Always knew you were a m-multitasker.”
Then his head fell forward against Anders’ shoulder, consciousness slipping away as his body shuddered violently. Anders exchanged a look of genuine concern with Conall and Wyatt. This wasn’t normal heat behavior; this was something more dangerous, more primal.
“He needs relief now,” Conall urged, moving closer. “His body’s shutting down.”
The chain at Anders’ wrist rattled against the shower wall as he adjusted his position. The metallic sound filled Anders with cold fury—when they escaped, he would use this very chain to strangle De Luca for putting their omega in this condition. He’d make the old man suffer for every moment of torment Ty was experiencing.
Anders positioned himself at Ty’s entrance, finding him ready despite the cold water. “Ty,” he called, the name feeling strangely right on his tongue. “Stay with me.”
Ty’s eyes fluttered open, hazy with fever but briefly lucid. “Trying,” he mumbled, though his hands gripped Anders’ shoulders with urgent need, nails digging half-moons into the alpha’s skin. “It hurts. Like someone replaced my blood with lava and my bones with matchsticks.”
Something in Ty’s voice, the raw vulnerability beneath the snark, triggered a protective surge in Anders’ chest.
“I’ve got you,” he promised, his voice dropping to a register that seemed to calm the boy slightly. “Hold on to me.”
With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside Ty, drawing a broken cry from him that echoed off the tile walls. The sensation nearly undid Anders on the spot. Ty’s internal heat was shocking, his channel gripping Anders with pulsating contractions that seemed to be trying to milk him immediately. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before, Ty’s body in a state of biological desperation that transcended normal heat.
Ty’s consciousness faded again, his head falling limply against Anders’ shoulder as his body continued to respond automatically. The sight filled Anders with cold fury. No omega should suffer like this, especially not their omega.
“Stay with us, little mouse,” Conall urged, reaching to brush wet hair from Ty’s forehead. “Come on now, don’t fade out on us.Where’s that sharp tongue we’ve come to enjoy? You can’t leave us with just Anders’ brooding. I’ll die of boredom.”
Ty stirred, his eyes focusing briefly at the teasing. “Three alphas in a shower,” he mumbled, words slurring together but a ghost of his usual sass returning. “Always thought that was just a really specific fantasy. Like, super niche porn category.Alpha Shower Gangbang Volume Three: The Knotting.”
“There he is.” Conall grinned, continuing to stroke Ty’s hair. “Keep talking, little mouse. Your voice is much prettier than the sound of Anders grunting.”
“Fuck off,” Anders growled, though there was no real heat in it.
Then Ty was gone again, consciousness slipping away even as his body continued to respond to Anders’ careful thrusts. The contrast between Ty’s limp form and his inner muscles’ desperate clenching around Anders’ length was jarring, biology fighting for survival even as his mind surrendered to the fever.
“Finish this quickly,” Wyatt said, reaching to support Ty’s weight from the side.
Anders nodded, increasing his pace carefully. Each thrust targeted the spots he’d discovered drove Ty wild the night before, his body remembering exactly how to please the little omega even as his mind focused on the medical necessity of the moment. The tight heat of Ty’s body gripped him with incredible pressure, his channel seeming to ripple around Anders with each movement.
“Come back to us, sweetheart,” Conall called, tapping Ty’s cheek lightly. “You’re missing all the fun. Your Mr. Iceflare is actually working up a sweat for once.”
Ty’s eyes fluttered open again, consciousness returning briefly. “Strong hands,” he noted, glancing at Wyatt with heat-drunk appreciation. “Very strong. Could probably crush walnuts. Or skulls. Hopefully just walnuts, though.”
“He notices Wyatt’s hands but not my charming personality?” Conall complained with mock offense. “I’m wounded, truly wounded.”
Wyatt’s expression remained stoic, but his touch gentled, thumbs tracing soothing circles on Ty’s hip bones. The contrast between his controlled exterior and the hungry darkness in his eyes was striking, like a storm barely contained beneath a calm surface.
“Kiss me,” Ty begged, turning to Wyatt with desperate need. “Please, need all of you.”
