Page 24 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings (Alpha Mafia Kings #1)

Without further warning, he drove forward in one powerful thrust that had me crying out from the intensity.

The stretch was overwhelming, bordering on painful despite how wet I was, but my body yielded to him as if it had no choice, as if it recognized its owner.

The paradoxical sensation of being simultaneously torn apart and completed left me gasping.

“Fuck!” he groaned, his forehead dropping briefly to rest against mine, the only moment of vulnerability in his otherwise relentless claiming.

Then he was moving, setting a punishing rhythm that spoke of possession.

Each thrust was a statement of ownership, each withdrawal a promise of return.

His mouth found mine again, kissing me with the same intensity as his lower body.

His tongue mimicked the rhythm of his cock, fucking into my mouth with possessive strokes that left me breathless.

When he broke the kiss, his mouth didn’t leave my skin.

Instead, he trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down my jaw, my throat, lingering at the sensitive spot where my pulse hammered beneath the skin.

His teeth grazed my scent gland again, the pressure just shy of breaking skin, sending electric shocks racing through my system.

“He tastes as good as he smells,” Mr. Enigma commented from where he stood watching, his hand moving in long, deliberate strokes over his cock. “I can tell from here.”

“Responsive,” Mr. Storm stated, his voice rough with desire.

Their commentary only heightened my pleasure, my body responding to their attention. The wet sounds of our bodies connecting echoed through the room, slick squelching with each thrust as Mr. Iceflare continued his relentless pace.

His mouth moved lower, finding my nipple and closing around it with a sudden, sharp bite that had me crying out.

The pain bloomed into pleasure as his tongue soothed the sting, the dual sensation making my back arch off the bed.

He switched to the other nipple, giving it the same treatment—teeth, then tongue, pain then pleasure—all while maintaining the brutal rhythm of his hips.

“That’s it,” he growled against my skin, his breath hot against the sensitized peak. “Take it. Take all of me.”

My hands clawed at his back, nails digging into muscle hard enough to leave marks of my own.

The pleasure was building to unbearable heights, coiling tighter and tighter in my core with each precise thrust. He seemed to know exactly where to aim, exactly how much pressure to apply, exactly how to drive me rapidly toward the edge.

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice carrying the full weight of alpha dominance. “Show them who you belong to.”

My release hit with devastating force, and my back arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from my throat as pleasure crashed through me in waves. My inner muscles clenched rhythmically around his cock, trying to pull him deeper, to keep him inside.

But he didn’t stop. Even as I came down from the high, he continued his relentless pace, fucking me through the aftershocks with a determination that had me gasping.

The oversensitivity should have been painful, but instead, it just pushed me higher, building toward another peak I hadn’t thought possible so soon.

“Again,” he growled, suddenly shifting our position.

The chain at his wrist rattled as he pulled me up from the bed, his powerful arm wrapping around my waist as he pressed my back against the headboard.

The new angle had me half sitting, half lying, completely at his mercy as he drove upward into me with even greater force.

The change in position sent him impossibly deeper, hitting new spots that made my vision blur at the edges.

“You’re going to come again for me.” His mouth found mine again, his tongue fucking into mine with the same rhythm as his cock, creating a dual invasion that left no room for resistance.

From this new position, he could go even deeper, reaching places inside me I hadn’t known existed. Each thrust sent jolts of pleasure racing through my system, building rapidly toward another climax that seemed impossible yet inevitable.

“Look at him take it,” Mr. Enigma groaned, his hand moving faster over his length as he watched. “He’s fucking incredible.”

“Ours,” Mr. Storm declared, his eyes never leaving my face.

Their words, their obvious desire, only heightened my own pleasure. I felt caught in a web of alpha attention, wanted and claimed in a way I’d never experienced before. The knowledge that these powerful men desired me, needed me, was intoxicating.

“Who do you belong to?” Mr. Iceflare demanded, his teeth grazing my earlobe before biting down hard enough to sting. “Say it. Tell them.”

“You,” I gasped, my body trembling on the edge of another release. “I belong to you, Mr. Iceflare.”

Something flashed in his eyes—triumph, satisfaction, something deeper and more complex. His rhythm changed, became more targeted, more deliberate. One hand slid between us to wrap around my cock, creating a dual assault that had me seeing stars.

“Come for me again,” he commanded, his voice leaving no room for refusal. “Now.”

For the second time, I shattered beneath him, my body convulsing with the force of my release.

This orgasm was even more intense than the first, waves of pleasure crashing through me until I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but feel.

My release painted our stomachs in white stripes, the evidence of my pleasure stark against our skin.

But still, he didn’t stop. His stamina was inhuman, alpha biology giving him an endurance that left me gasping. Even as I came down from the second peak, he was already building me toward a third, his pace never faltering, his grip never loosening.

“One more,” he growled, suddenly shifting our position again.

The metallic links of his chain clinked together as he pushed my legs up, bending them toward my chest, opening me completely to his assault.

The new angle allowed him to drive even deeper, hitting spots inside me that triggered waves of sensation so intense I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began. “Give me one more, little mouse.”

His knot was beginning to form now, catching slightly on my rim with each thrust, creating a delicious pressure that had me gasping. The stretch was exquisite, bordering on pain but somehow circling back to pleasure, my body yielding to him completely.

“Look at how he stretches,” Mr. Enigma groaned. “Taking that knot so beautifully.”

“Perfect,” Mr. Storm growled, his eyes dark with hunger.

Their words, combined with the relentless assault on my senses, pushed me toward a third peak that seemed impossible yet inevitable.

Every nerve ending in my body screamed with overstimulation, my skin electric with a pleasure so acute it transcended into something almost unbearable.

I was drowning, consumed, obliterated—my consciousness splintering into fragments as the line between ecstasy and agony blurred beyond recognition.

My body no longer felt like my own but rather a vessel for sensations so intense they threatened to tear me apart from the inside.

I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t remember anything but the overwhelming pressure building inside me, demanding release with a ferocity that made me wonder if I’d survive the explosion when it finally came.

With a final, devastating thrust, Mr. Iceflare buried himself to the hilt, his knot swelling to full size and locking us together with a finality that felt like fate.

The pressure was exquisite torture, his knot pressing relentlessly against every hypersensitive nerve ending inside me, stretching me to my absolute limit.

My third orgasm hit with the force of a supernova, because apparently, my body was going for some kind of record in the Omega Olympics.

I didn’t just scream, I shattered, my voice breaking on a sound I’d never made before, something primal and surrendering that echoed off the walls as violent convulsions racked my body.

My inner muscles clenched and spasmed around him with such force that tears streamed down my face from the overwhelming intensity.

This time, he followed me into oblivion.

His roar was feral, ancient, a sound that bypassed civilization and tapped directly into something primordial.

His entire body went rigid against mine as his release flooded me in scalding pulses that seemed to brand me from the inside out.

Each throb of his cock triggered cascading aftershocks through my hypersensitive body, making me sob his title in broken, desperate fragments.

If anyone had been recording this performance, I’d have died of embarrassment, world’s neediest omega, coming undone live on camera.

“Mr. Ice—” I couldn’t even complete the word, my voice fracturing as another wave hit. “Alpha… please… God… “

We remained locked together in this carnal fusion, not just physically joined but somehow metaphysically entangled.

His thundering heartbeat became my own, our ragged breathing synchronizing as if we’d become a single organism.

The scent of satisfied alpha enveloped me completely, not just surrounding me but permeating my skin, seeping into my bloodstream, rewriting my cellular memory.

My omega instincts, usually a background hum I did my best to ignore, roared to life with a satisfaction so profound it felt like coming home to a place I’d never known existed.

Traitor biology, always ready to sell me out for a good knot.

As reality slowly reassembled itself around us, my awareness expanded beyond the point where our bodies joined.

The delicious ache in my muscles wasn’t just soreness but a physical record of what had happened, my body forever changed, marked, claimed.

The evidence of my release wasn’t just cooling on our skin but symbolized something irrevocable, a contract written in the most primal ink.

No backsies in the world of alpha-omega biology, apparently.

My heat had transformed from a raging inferno to a smoldering ember, but that ember felt different now, not just temporarily banked but fundamentally altered, as if it had been claimed and now answered to a new master.

The heat wasn’t gone, but it had been… tamed.

Redirected. Focused exclusively on him. My body had found its alpha and was now sending me the biological equivalent of “This one! We pick this one!” notifications.

When I finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, what I saw made my breath catch painfully in my throat. So much for my plan of “get knotted, save Dad, move on with life.”

His ice-blue eyes had transformed. The cold calculation that had earned him his nickname was gone, replaced by something ancient and terrifying in its intensity.

This wasn’t just desire or even possession, it was absolute ownership.

His gaze tracked over my features with such focused concentration it felt like he was memorizing every pore, every eyelash, cataloging me down to the cellular level.

Something had awakened in him that transcended human emotion, something wolves would recognize, something that existed before language had words to describe it.

I’d accidentally flipped the “mate” switch in an alpha mafia boss.

Just another Tuesday in the life of Ty Hart, professional disaster.

The realization hit me with shocking clarity.

This wasn’t a transaction anymore. This wasn’t a desperate omega seeking relief or an alpha satisfying a biological urge.

What had just happened between us had rewritten something fundamental in both our biologies.

The universe was having a good laugh at my expense.

I’d come in looking for a one-night stand and somehow ended up with a lifetime subscription.

I hadn’t just taken his seed; I had inadvertently triggered something irrevocable.

The alpha in him had claimed me at the most primal level, and there was no protocol for undoing that kind of bond.

No paperwork to file, no breakup conversation to have, no “it’s not you, it’s me” speech that could undo what had just happened.

What had awakened in him was something beyond reason or negotiation, something that predated civilization itself.

And me? I was the genius who’d triggered it.

Cold, crystalline terror bloomed in my chest as the full implications crashed over me.

My hands began to tremble against his skin as the magnitude of what I’d done became clear.

This wasn’t about conception anymore, or even survival in the immediate sense.

When these alphas broke free, and they would—men like this always did—they wouldn’t just seek revenge for being used.

They would hunt me to the ends of the earth.

Not to kill me. Not to punish me.

But to reclaim what their biology now recognized as theirs on a level so fundamental it might as well be carved into their DNA.

Me.

I’d just graduated from “omega in trouble” to “omega who’s completely screwed,” and not just in the literal sense.