Page 75 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
“Stay with me, little mouse,” he murmured when I tried to close my eyes against the overwhelming intimacy. “Don’t hide from what you’re feeling.”
I wanted to deflect with a joke, to maintain the emotional distance I’d cultivated for so long, but the words stuck in my throat. There was something in his eyes, a vulnerability that mirrored my own, a question I wasn’t ready to answer but couldn’t ignore.
“I can’t,” I whispered, though my body continued to move with his, rising and falling in a rhythm that felt like surrender. “This is too much. It’s emotional free-falling.”
“It’s exactly enough,” he countered, his forehead pressing against mine as he maintained the slow, deep rhythm that was unraveling me from the inside out. “Let yourself feel it, Ty. Let yourself have this.”
The use of my actual name instead of “little mouse” hit me with emotional force, cracking something open inside me that I’d kept carefully sealed. As he continued to move within me, his eyes never leaving mine, I felt something shift—a wall crumbling, a door opening, a truth I couldn’t run from anymore.
A tear escaped before I could stop it, sliding down my cheek in silent betrayal. Mr. Enigma caught it with his thumb, the tenderness in the gesture making my chest ache in a way I’d never experienced before.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” I admitted, my voice breaking as his hips rolled upward, hitting a spot that made me gasp. “This isn’t supposed to feel like this.”
“Like what?” he asked, his voice gentle but insistent, refusing to let me hide behind vague statements.
“Like… like it matters,” I whispered, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. “Like you matter. Like I matter. Like this is more than just fucking.”
His rhythm faltered for a moment, his eyes widening slightly at my honesty. Then he was kissing me again, deep and thorough, his body moving within mine with renewed purpose. Each thrust felt like a question and an answer simultaneously, each kiss a conversation without words.
My release built differently this time, not the explosive peak of before but something deeper, more profound, starting somewhere in my chest and radiating outward. When it finally crashed over me, it wasn’t just physical pleasure but emotional catharsis, drawing a sound from my throat that was half moan, half sob.
Mr. Enigma followed me over the edge with a growl that vibrated through both our bodies, his knot swelling to lock us together as his release flooded me in hot pulses. As we sat there, joined physically and something more, I felt my world tilting on its axis, everything I thought I knew about myself rearranging into something new and terrifying.
“What is happening to us?” I asked, the question torn from somewhere deep inside me that usually stayed locked behind several layers of sarcasm and emotional padlocks.
Mr. Enigma brushed the hair from my face with gentle fingers, his expression more serious than I’d ever seen it. “Something none of us expected,” he admitted. “Something that should be impossible but feels inevitable. Something profound.”
The truth of his words settled over me heavily. This connection forming between us wasn’t just biology or circumstance or necessity. It was something real, something that had caught all of us by surprise, something that would change everything. And I was completely unprepared.
When his knot finally subsided and he slipped from my body, I felt a loss that went beyond the physical, as though something essential had been removed, leaving a space I wasn’t sure could ever be filled again. Which was ridiculous because we’d known each other for such a short time.
Before I could process the feeling, Mr. Storm was there, his eyes darker than usual as he looked at me with an intensity that should have been frightening but somehow wasn’t. He gathered me into his arms and arranged us on our sides, my back to his chest, his powerful body curled protectively around mine. The position was unexpected, not the dominant claiming I’d anticipated, but something that felt almost… tender. Protective and surprisingly gentle.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice smaller than I’d intended. Where was my usual snark when I needed it? Probably on vacation with my dignity and self-preservation instincts.
“Holding you,” he replied simply, his breath warm against my neck. “Protecting you.”
“From what?” I couldn’t help asking, though part of me already knew the answer.
“Everything,” he said, the single word carrying immense weight. “Including yourself.”
Before I could formulate a suitably cutting response about not needing protection, especially from myself, thank you verymuch, he was entering me from behind, his cock filling me in a smooth, careful thrust that felt more like coming home than invasion. The angle was different again, not as deep as the others, but somehow more intimate, more enveloping.
His arm wrapped around me, hand coming to rest directly over my heart, feeling it race beneath his palm. Unlike the others, Mr. Storm didn’t establish a fast rhythm or seek immediate pleasure. Instead, he moved with deliberate slowness, each thrust careful and measured, as though learning me from the inside out with methodical precision.
“Your heart’s racing,” he said, his voice rumbling through his chest into my back.
“That tends to happen when there’s an alpha cock inside me,” I deflected, falling back on sarcasm when emotions threatened to overwhelm me. “Basic biology. Nothing personal.”
His response was to press his lips against my nape, not quite a kiss but something equally intimate. “Not just from that.”
My body betrayed me by trembling at the simple touch, at the truth in his words. His hand remained over my heart, tracking each beat with focused attention.
“You’re safe,” he murmured against my ear, the words simple but profound. “With us. Always.”
Something about the promise—so straightforward, so certain—broke through my defenses completely. He was offering something I’d never allowed myself to want. Protection. Safety. The knowledge that I didn’t have to face the world alone anymore.
And that terrified me more than any physical threat. More than De Luca’s schemes, more than the uncertainty of my future.
