Page 52 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“I can feed myself,” Ty insisted, reaching for the spoon.
Anders held it just out of reach, his expression implacable. “You’re still weak,” he stated. “And you need all of this food, not just what you think you can manage.”
Ty looked like he wanted to argue further, but another wince crossed his face as he shifted position. After a moment’s hesitation, he sighed dramatically and leaned back more fully against Anders’ chest. “Fine. Feed me then, Mr. Control Freak. But only because I feel like I’ve been run over by a semi and then reversed over for good measure.”
Something about Ty’s capitulation sent a surge of satisfaction through Anders’ chest. He carefully brought the spoon to Ty’s lips, watching as their little omega accepted the offering with surprising docility.
“This is ridiculous,” Ty said after swallowing. “I’m a grown man being spoon-fed soup by a mafia boss. My life has officially jumped the shark.”
“Consider it aftercare,” Conall suggested, his green eyes dancing with amusement. “We did put you through quite the workout.”
“Aftercare usually involves blankets and cuddling, not being force-fed like a recalcitrant toddler,” Ty retorted, yet he accepted the next spoonful without complaint. “Though I suppose the alpha sandwich I woke up in counts as cuddling. Very muscular, slightly terrifying cuddling.”
Anders continued feeding Ty methodically, ensuring he consumed all the soup and most of the bread. With each bite, color returned to Ty’s cheeks, his movements becoming more fluid, less pained. The medication was clearly taking effect, easing the worst of his discomfort.
Ty’s position, sitting up with his back against Anders’ chest while the alpha fed him, brought them into intimate contact. Anders could feel the warmth of Ty’s skin against his own, the slight weight of him settling more comfortably as the meal progressed. The proximity was having a predictable effect on Anders’ body, his cock hardening against the small of Ty’s back.
Ty stiffened slightly as he felt the evidence of Anders’ hardness, then deliberately shifted his position, pressing back against it with a teasing motion that could not possibly be accidental.
“Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” he quipped, glancing over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Actually, don’t answer that. I can feel exactly how happy you are.”
Anders’ hand tightened on the spoon, his control slipping just a fraction at Ty’s deliberate provocation. “Finish your food,” he instructed, his voice rougher than before.
“Yes, sir,” Ty replied with mock obedience, the sarcasm evident in his tone. But he accepted the next spoonful without further comment, though the slight smirk playing at the corners of his mouth suggested he was well aware of the effect he was having.
Conall watched the exchange with undisguised amusement, his own reaction evident as his gaze tracked Ty’s every movement. “Our little mouse is feeling better,” he said, his voice dropping to a register that made Ty’s breath catch audibly. “Strong enough to play games already.”
“Not playing,” Ty countered, though the slight flush on his cheeks suggested otherwise. “Just making observations. Very hard, throbbing observations.”
Anders set the empty bowl aside, his patience wearing thin with Ty’s deliberate teasing. Their little omega’s heat might have broken, but the scent of him, jasmine and honey with an undercurrent of desire, was filling the room, triggering Anders’ most primal instincts.
“You should rest,” Anders said, his voice strained with the effort of control. “Your body is still recovering.”
“I’ve had enough rest,” Ty replied, deliberately shifting against Anders again, the movement sending a jolt of pleasure through the alpha’s system. “And apparently, so have you. All of you,” he added, his gaze flicking to where Conall and Wyatt made no attempt to hide their own physical interest.
“This isn’t heat,” Anders pointed out, his hands moving to Ty’s hips to still his provocative movements. “You don’t need this for survival anymore.”
Ty turned in Anders’ hold, his eyes meeting the alpha’s with unexpected directness. “Maybe I want it anyway,” he said, the challenge clear in his voice. “Maybe I want to remember what it feels like when I’m fully conscious and not dying of heat fever. Is that so hard to believe?”
It was, actually. After everything that had happened—the captivity, the forced breeding, the heat crisis—Anders had expected Ty to retreat, to rebuild his walls and distance himself from the alphas who had claimed him so thoroughly. This deliberate provocation, this apparent desire for more, was unexpected.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Anders warned, his control slipping further as Ty’s scent intensified with obvious need. “This wouldn’t be like before. We wouldn’t be gentle.”
“When is it ever gentle with you?” Ty countered, his hands coming up to rest on Anders’ chest, fingers splayed across the hard muscle. “Besides, who said I wanted gentle?”
The last thread of Anders’ restraint snapped. With a growl that seemed to vibrate through the room, he captured Ty’s mouth in a bruising kiss, one hand tangling in their little omega’s hair to hold him in place. The kiss was all possession and demand—his tongue plunged deep, claiming every corner of Ty’s mouth as his own territory. He tasted of the soup they’d just shared and something uniquely Ty, a sweetness that seemed designed specifically to drive Anders mad with hunger.
Ty responded with unexpected fervor, his lips parting eagerly as his tongue met Anders’ in a hot dance that sent fire racing through both their bodies. His arms wound around Anders’ neck, fingers threading through the alpha’s dark hair and pulling him closer with surprising strength for someone who’d been at death’s door hours earlier. Their bodies pressed together, Ty’s smaller frame fitting against Anders’ larger one with a perfection that seemed almost designed.
When they finally broke apart for air, Ty’s pupils were blown wide with desire, only a thin ring of hazel visible around the black. His lips were swollen and reddened from the force of Anders’ kiss, his breathing quick and shallow.
“Well,” he managed, voice rough with want, “that’s one way to shut me up.”
“There are others,” Conall suggested with a wicked grin, moving closer on the bed. “Many, many others. Would you like a demonstration, little mouse?”
Before Ty could respond with what would undoubtedly have been another snarky comment, Anders moved with alpha speed, flipping their positions so that Ty was beneath him on the bed, pinned by the alpha’s superior weight and strength. The chain at Anders’ wrist rattled with the sudden movement, the cold metal sliding across Ty’s heated skin and drawing a shiver from him.
“Last chance to change your mind,” Anders warned, his voice a low growl as he hovered over Ty, their bodies not quite touching. “Say the word, and this stops now.”
