Page 18 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings (Alpha Mafia Kings #1)
As Ty trembled through the aftershocks, Anders found himself fascinated by the unguarded vulnerability in his expression.
The sharp-tongued defiance had given way to something softer, more open—a glimpse of the person beneath the protective armor.
It was this, more than the physical pleasure, that Anders found himself craving, this moment of genuine surrender that no amount of money or power could purchase.
But the moment passed quickly. As Anders slowly withdrew his fingers, he watched awareness return to Ty’s eyes, followed swiftly by embarrassment and the return of his defensive walls.
“Well,” Ty said, his voice still unsteady as he pushed himself up on his elbows, suddenly acutely aware of his nakedness. “That was thorough. You three should consider opening a spa. ‘The Alpha Experience: We’ll Make You Come So Hard You Forget Your Own Name.’”
“And did you?” Conall asked with a wicked grin, still hovering close enough that his breath ghosted over Ty’s sensitive skin. “Forget your name?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Ty retorted, though the effect was somewhat undermined by the flush still staining his cheeks. “I might have forgotten my middle name. Temporarily. For, like, two seconds.”
Anders brought his fingers to his mouth, deliberately maintaining eye contact as he tasted the omega’s essence.
The flavor exploded across his tongue, sweeter than anything he’d ever experienced, with complex notes that shifted and evolved rather than remaining static.
He watched with satisfaction as Ty’s pupils dilated again, his scent intensifying despite his recent release.
“Delicious,” Anders pronounced, enjoying the way the omega’s breath caught.
Ty looked away, unable to maintain eye contact during such an intimate assessment. “Glad to hear my bodily fluids meet with your approval,” he said. “I’ll be sure to include that on my résumé.”
The attempt at sarcasm, even in his current state, drew a genuine laugh from Anders. “Your résumé would make for interesting reading, I’m sure. ‘Skills include: exceptional responsiveness, remarkable heat resilience, and the ability to maintain sarcasm while orgasming.’”
A reluctant smile tugged at the corner of Ty’s mouth before he suppressed it. “Don’t forget ‘can bake a perfect sourdough while in heat-induced delirium.’”
“You bake?” Conall asked, genuine interest lighting his features. The casual mention of a skill, a glimpse into Ty’s life before captivity, seemed to fascinate. “What else do you make?”
Ty blinked, clearly thrown by the sudden shift to normal conversation. “Um, pretty much everything? Bread, pastries, cakes. My cinnamon rolls once made a beta cry with happiness, which was both flattering and awkward.”
“A young man of hidden talents,” Conall murmured, his expression softening momentarily before the predatory gleam returned. “I look forward to discovering them all.”
The implication that there would be time for such discoveries in the future wasn’t lost on Ty. His scent spiked with a complex mixture of uncertainty and something that might have been hope.
“You should go,” Anders said, his voice rougher than intended. “Before the guards come to check on us.”
Ty nodded, sliding off the bed with visible reluctance. The temporary relief had cleared his head somewhat, but Anders could already see the signs of his heat rebuilding—the flush returning to his cheeks, the slight dilation of his pupils, the sweetening of his scent.
“Same time tomorrow?” Ty asked, attempting a lightness he clearly didn’t feel as he retrieved his t-shirt from the floor. “Or will you be too busy plotting world domination?”
“I always make time for pleasure amid business,” Anders replied, his eyes tracking the omega’s movements with predatory focus. “Especially when it’s as unique as you.”
Something flickered in Ty’s expression—uncertainty, perhaps, or the dangerous beginnings of hope. “Right. Well. See you tomorrow, then. Try not to miss me too much. I know it’ll be hard without my sparkling personality to brighten your dungeon.”
“Harder than you know,” Conall replied with a suggestive grin, making no attempt to hide the obvious aroused cock. “In more ways than one.”
Ty’s cheeks flamed, but he managed a parting shot as he headed for the door. “Cold showers exist for a reason, Mr. Enigma. Though I’m not sure they make them cold enough for your particular situation.”
With that, he slipped back through the door to his quarters, leaving his scent lingering in the air behind him.
The moment the door closed, Conall let out a low whistle. “Fuck me. That was intense.”
“Scent intensifying,” Wyatt said.
“It’s affecting all of us more strongly too,” Anders added, making no attempt to hide his still-hard state. The need to follow Ty, to finish what they’d started, clawed at him with a ferocity he’d never experienced before. “This isn’t normal.”
“Nothing about him is normal,” Conall agreed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Did you feel it? The way his body responded to us? All of us? Like he was made for this, for us specifically.”
“He’s different,” Wyatt said. “Unique.”
“In English?” Conall prompted with a strained laugh.
“We fit,” Wyatt said simply. “Lock and key.”
The implications settled over them, adding new layers to their already complex situation. If Ty Hart possessed some rare quality that created this unprecedented compatibility, it made De Luca’s interest in him more understandable—and potentially more dangerous.