Page 60 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“Kinky,” I said, though the thought sent an unexpected thrill through me that I absolutely refused to examine too closely. “File that under ‘information I didn’t need but will definitely remember for my future therapy sessions.’”
Before I could overthink it and talk myself out of this spectacularly bad idea, I leaned forward and licked a tentative stripe up the underside of his cock, from base to tip. Holy shit. The taste exploded across my tongue, salt and musk and something uniquely Mr. Enigma that made my omega hindbrain celebrate while my conscious mind questioned my life choices. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and I swiped my tongue over it, surprised by the slightly sweet tang that mingled with the saltiness. Not what I expected.
Above me, Mr. Enigma made a sound of shocked pleasure. His abs tensed visibly—and seriously, was an eight-pack really necessary? Show-off—as his hips twitched upward involuntarily.
“Fuck,” he growled, visibly fighting for control with admirable restraint. His hand came up to stroke my cheek with surprising gentleness. “You just… your mouth… Christ, the way you look right now should be illegal.”
“Is my mouth magical? Transcendent? Worth writing poetry about?” I suggested, emboldened by his reaction and the way his pupils had expanded until only a thin ring of green remained, darkness consuming light. “Feel free to elaborate while I figure out how not to accidentally bite off more than I can chew. Literally.”
His laugh turned into a strangled groan as I took the head into my mouth, the silky-smooth skin hot against my tongue as I experimented with pressure and suction with determinedexploration. The width stretched my lips in a way that should have been uncomfortable but somehow wasn’t, my body responding as if designed for this exact purpose—a thought I immediately filed under “examine never.”
“Fuck, look at those pretty lips stretched around me,” he breathed, his voice dropping an octave to something that vibrated through my bones. “Sassy even with your mouth full. That’s our little mouse.”
The possessive plural—our—shouldn't have sent warmth blooming in my chest with alarming intensity, but it did. What was wrong with me?Trauma Bonding: The Advanced Course?
I used my hand to cover what wouldn’t fit in my mouth, creating a tight, wet channel that had him cursing in what sounded like three different languages. I redoubled my efforts, taking him deeper until he bumped the back of my throat, making me pull back slightly with a gagging sound. Smooth, Ty. Very sexy.
Mr. Enigma’s hand moved to tangle gently in my hair, not pushing or controlling, just maintaining contact as his other hand stroked down my back with unexpected tenderness. The gentleness was almost worse than if he’d been rough, at least then I could have hated him properly.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his voice strained with effort. “Use your tongue more. Yes, just like that. Perfect. You’re a natural at this, little mouse. You were born for this.”
Behind me, I felt the mattress dip as Mr. Storm moved closer, his large hand coming to rest on the small of my back, warm and steadying. From his position on the other bed, Mr. Iceflare watched with predatory focus, his ice-blue eyes tracking every movement of my mouth.
“Look at him taking you,” Mr. Iceflare said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Made for this.”
“For us,” Mr. Storm added quietly, his thumb tracing circles on my lower back that somehow managed to be both comforting and arousing at the same time, which was a neat trick I hadn’t known was possible.
The praise shouldn’t have affected me as strongly as it did, shouldn’t have made me flush with pleasure and redouble my efforts with eager determination. But something about these alphas, about the connection forming between us, made me crave their approval in ways I’d never experienced before and frankly found deeply concerning.
I swirled my tongue around the sensitive spot just under the head, a move I’d read about in an omega magazine. Mr. Enigma’s reaction was immediate and gratifying, a sharp intake of breath, his hand tightening in my hair just enough to sting pleasantly.
“Just like that,” he gasped, his green eyes locked on mine with an intensity that made my stomach flip with nervous excitement. “Fuck, the way you look right now… those innocent eyes looking up at me while you take my cock so perfectly. You have no idea what you’re doing to me.”
I had some idea, actually, given the way his cock seemed to grow even harder in my mouth, which I hadn’t thought was physically possible without medical intervention. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder as I bobbed my head with enthusiastic determination, taking him deeper with each downward movement. The stretch, the weight on my tongue, the taste, it was intoxicating, making me moan around his length with embarrassing eagerness.
The vibration drew another curse from him, his hips jerking upward involuntarily, pushing deeper into my mouth in a way that should have made me gag but somehow didn’t. Apparently, my gag reflex had decided to take a vacation atthe most convenient—or inconvenient—time, depending on your perspective.
“Fuck,” he gasped, immediately stilling himself with impressive control. “Fuck, you just feel so good. Too good. Pure heaven.”
I pulled off with a wet pop that should have been embarrassing but somehow wasn’t. “Don’t hold back,” I said, surprising myself with the request. “I want to feel it. Want to know I’m affecting you as much as you’re affecting me. That this isn’t just… one-sided biology.”
Mr. Enigma’s eyes darkened further, something primal flashing in their depths with dangerous intensity. “Dangerous words, little mouse,” he warned, though his cock twitched eagerly against my palm with obvious enthusiasm. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Then show me,” I challenged, maintaining eye contact as I took him back into my mouth, deeper this time, relaxing my throat as much as I could, which was apparently more than I’d thought possible. Hidden omega talent unlocked: sword swallowing. Who knew?
With a growl that vibrated through both our bodies with primal power, Mr. Enigma’s control shattered completely. His hips thrust upward, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth, not forcefully enough to choke me but enough to make me feel the power he’d been holding back. The sensation of being used, of being wanted so desperately he couldn’t control himself, sent a thrill racing through me that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with a desire I wasn’t ready to name.
“Look at him taking it,” Mr. Storm murmured, his hand still tracing soothing patterns on my back with gentle reassurance. “No gag reflex.”
“Omega biology,” Mr. Iceflare said, his voice rougher than usual. “Made to accommodate alpha size. All of us.”
The implication, that I was designed to take all three of them, in every way, sent another rush of heat through my core, enough that I was probably ruining the sheets beneath me. Great, now I was going to have to explain omega biology stains to the laundry service. “Sorry about the puddle, just omega mating biology in action, no big deal.”
I moaned around Mr. Enigma’s cock, the vibration drawing a sound from him that was half curse, half prayer.
“Fuck, little mouse,” he gasped, his hand tightening in my hair with delicious pressure. “If you keep making those sounds, this is going to be over embarrassingly quickly, and I have a reputation to maintain.”
I doubled my efforts, using every technique that had drawn the strongest reactions—swirling my tongue around the sensitive head with practiced precision, hollowing my cheeks for maximum suction with determined effort, using my hand to stroke what wouldn’t fit in my mouth in a counter-rhythm that had his thighs tensing beneath me with mounting tension. His breathing grew more ragged, his control visibly deteriorating.
