Page 73 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“That’s not fair,” I whispered, unable to look away despite the panic building in my chest. “You can’t ask me to—that’s emotional exposure at its most extreme. There are laws against that sort of thing in civilized countries.”
“I can,” he interrupted, his voice gentle despite the steel beneath it. “I am. Keep your eyes on mine, Ty. Let me see you.”
The use of my actual name instead of “little mouse” hit me with emotional force. It felt intimate in a way that even his cock pressing against my entrance didn’t, a claim that went beyond the physical into dangerous emotional territory.
This is insane. I've known him for what—a week? And he's a mafia alpha who's literally threatened to hunt me down once he escapes. This isn't a romance novel. This is shared trauma creating dangerous emotional attachments.
“Okay,” I agreed, the surrender torn from somewhere I didn’t even know existed inside me. “Just—be careful with what you see. It’s not all pretty in here.” I tapped my temple, attempting a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. “Lots of cobwebs and emotional baggage and a collection of bad decisions that would make a therapist weep.”
Something softened in his expression, his thumb continuing its gentle stroking of my cheekbone. “Everything about you is beautiful to us,” he said, the sincerity in his voice making my throat tight with emotions I refused to name. “Even the parts you try to hide.”
eighteen
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He pushed forward, entering me with a slow deliberation that was somehow more devastating than if he’d just slammed in last night. The stretch was significant, like usual—he was built with impressive proportions—but my body welcomed him with eagerness, still loose and ready from our activities the night before.
“Fuck!” I gasped, my hands flying up to grip his shoulders as he filled me inch by excruciating inch. My inner walls clenched around him, drawing him deeper with each pulse. “How are you even bigger than last night? Is that an alpha thing? Do you grow overnight with remarkable efficiency?”
Mr. Enigma’s laugh was warm against my ear as he stretched out beside us, his hand coming to rest on my chest directly over my racing heart. “There’s our sassy little mouse,” he said, affection evident in his voice. “I was wondering when you’d come back to us.”
“Never left,” I managed, though the words ended on a moan. “Just temporarily overwhelmed by the sheer audacity of alpha anatomy.”
Mr. Iceflare’s lips curved in what might have been a smile on anyone else but on him looked predatory. “Keep your eyes on me,” he reminded me, beginning to move with slow, deliberate thrusts that had me seeing stars.
Each drag of his cock against my inner walls sent sparks of pleasure racing through my system, building a heat in my core that threatened to consume me entirely. The angle let him hit my prostate with unerring accuracy, each thrust sending a jolt ofoh God, yesthrough me that had my toes curling and my back arching.
“That’s it,” he encouraged, his eyes never leaving mine as he watched every flicker of pleasure cross my face. “Let me see how good it feels. How much you need this. Need us.”
“Not fair,” I gasped, my hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into solid muscle. “You can’t just—oh fuck—you can’t just say things like that while you’re—holy shit—while you’re rearranging my internal organs with your impressive anatomy.”
“While I’m what?” he prompted, his pace increasing slightly as his control began to fray around the edges. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by my increasingly desperate moans. “While I’m fucking you? While I’m claiming what’s mine? What’s ours?”
The possessive declaration sent another wave of heat through my body, my inner muscles clenching around him with eager possession. The part of me that had been fighting this, fighting them, was rapidly surrendering, overwhelmed by the part that craved exactly what they were offering: belonging, protection, care.
“Yes,” I admitted, the word torn from somewhere deep inside me that I’d been pretending didn’t exist. “While you’re doing all of that. It’s cheating. Cognitive—oh God—cognitive impairment during sexual activity. Can’t form—fuck—can’t form coherentarguments when you’re hitting my prostate with incredible precision.”
Mr. Iceflare’s laugh rumbled through his chest and into mine where our bodies pressed together, the vibration doing interesting things to where we were connected. “Then stop arguing,” he suggested, his hips driving forward with enough force to make the breath catch in my throat. “Stop fighting what we all know is happening here.”
Mr. Enigma’s mouth found mine, his tongue invading with the same thoroughness as Mr. Iceflare’s cock. The dual penetration—one claiming my mouth, one claiming my body—left me feeling thoroughly owned in ways that should have terrified me but instead made my body surrender completely.
Mr. Storm’s hand wrapped around my neglected cock, his strokes perfectly synchronized with Mr. Iceflare’s thrusts. The calluses on his palm created a delicious friction that had me moaning into Mr. Enigma’s mouth, my hips bucking helplessly between the dual stimulation.
The combination was overwhelming—Mr. Iceflare’s cock hitting my prostate with every thrust, Mr. Enigma’s tongue claiming my mouth with possessive thoroughness, Mr. Storm’s hand working my length with ruthless precision. Every nerve ending fired simultaneously until I couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and another began.
And something strange was happening beneath the physical pleasure, a warmth spreading through my chest that had nothing to do with exertion and everything to do with the way Mr. Iceflare was looking at me. His eyes had softened around the edges, the usual cold calculation replaced by something that made my heart stutter in my chest. Not just lust or possession, but something I wasn’t ready to name.
My orgasm built with unstoppable intensity, pleasure coiling tighter and tighter at the base of my spine until I thought I mightactually die if I didn’t get release soon. When it finally hit, it wasn’t so much a climax as a complete detonation, obliterating conscious thought and reducing me to a creature of pure sensation.
I came with a scream that Mr. Enigma swallowed completely, my body convulsing between them as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through me with devastating force. My release painted my stomach and Mr. Storm’s hand in stripes of white, the evidence of my surrender stark against my flushed skin.
Through it all, I somehow managed to keep my eyes on Mr. Iceflare’s, watching as his expression shifted from controlled desire to something rawer, more primal. His rhythm faltered, becoming more erratic as his own release approached. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.
I felt the base of his cock begin to swell, stretching me wider than I thought possible. The pressure against my already sensitized walls sent aftershocks of pleasure racing through my system, my spent cock twitching valiantly in response. His release pulsed inside me in hot waves, each one accompanied by a subtle tightening of his knot that had me seeing stars.
The sensation was indescribable—not just the physical fullness, though that was overwhelming enough, but the primal satisfaction of being claimed so completely. Each pulse of his seed inside me triggered something ancient and instinctual, something that made my omega hindbrain purr with contentment while my conscious mind reeled with the implications.
But it wasn’t just the physical connection that had me trembling beneath him. It was the way his eyes never left mine, creating a bridge between us that felt more intimate than the knot locking our bodies together. In his gaze, I saw something I’d never expected from the cold, calculating alpha—vulnerability, wonder, a question he couldn’t quite voice but was writing across his face in neon letters.
