Page 19 of Ruined By the Mafia Kings
I gasped at his boldness, heat flooding my cheeks. Mr. Iceflare shot him a warning look, but Mr. Enigma just laughed, the sound rich and warm.
“Don’t give me that look,” he told Mr. Iceflare. “You can’t expect to keep all this sweetness to yourself.” His hand slid down to my neck, fingers tracing the sensitive skin over my scent gland. “Besides, our little omega here is practically drowning in need. One set of fingers isn’t going to cut it, is it, sweetheart?”
His touch burned against my fevered skin, igniting new waves of need. Unlike Mr. Iceflare’s controlled exploration, Mr. Enigma’s was playful, unpredictable, one moment gentle, the next almost rough as he squeezed my hip.
“So soft,” he murmured, his fingers tracing a path down my arm before sliding around to tease my nipple. “Like living silk. Tell me, little mouse, do you want me to touch you too? I want to hear you say it.”
I shivered, caught between the two alphas—Mr. Iceflare’s fingers still teasing my entrance while Mr. Enigma explored with increasingly bold touches. My scent glands throbbed under his attention, releasing another wave of pheromones that made all three alphas growl in unison.
“Yes,” I admitted, the word barely audible. “Please.”
“Please what?” Mr. Enigma prompted, his grin widening as he tugged my robe farther open, exposing more of my chest to his wandering hands. “Be specific, sweetheart. I love hearing dirty words from pretty mouths.”
“Please touch me,” I managed, my pride in tatters but beyond caring. “Both of you.”
“With pleasure,” Mr. Enigma purred, just as Mr. Iceflare finally slid one finger into me.
I couldn’t hold back a cry of relief. My inner muscles clenched around the intrusion greedily, trying to pull him deeper. The sensation was both salvation and torment, not enough to satisfy the aching emptiness, but enough to make my body sing with pleasure.
“So tight,” he said, adding a second finger with agonizing slowness, his other hand still tangled in my hair, holding me in place. “So hot. Your body’s burning up from the inside out, isn’t it?”
I nodded wordlessly, beyond speech as he began to move his fingers in a rhythm that had me gasping. Each thrust sent wavesof pleasure crashing through me, my inner walls clenching and releasing around his fingers in a desperate rhythm. The movement caused me to shift slightly on his lap, and I felt his hardness pressing against me through the sheet, hot and insistent.
Mr. Iceflare’s breath hitched, his pupils dilating further as my inner muscles squeezed his fingers. His jaw clenched tight, a muscle jumping beneath the skin as he fought for control. When I involuntarily rocked against his erection, he let out a low, rumbling growl that vibrated through his chest and into mine.
“Look at how he takes your fingers,” Mr. Enigma murmured, his hand now tracing circles on my lower back, each movement bringing him closer to the curve of my ass. “His body’s starving for it.”
Mr. Iceflare’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his eyes momentarily fluttering closed before snapping back open with renewed intensity. A bead of sweat traced down his temple as he visibly struggled to maintain his composure.
“Look at me,” Mr. Iceflare commanded softly, tugging gently on my hair to guide my gaze back to his.
I forced my eyes open, not having realized I’d closed them. His face was inches from mine, his expression a complex mixture of hunger, calculation, and something that might have been wonder. This close, I could count his eyelashes, could see the faint scar that bisected his left eyebrow, could feel his breath mingling with mine.
“Your scent,” he murmured, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. “It’s intoxicating. Different from any omega I’ve encountered.”
“Great,” I managed between gasps, trying to maintain some semblance of my usual snark despite being sandwiched between two alphas, one’s fingers buried inside me while the other’s hands roamed my skin with increasing boldness. “Add it to mylist of omega superpowers. Excessive responsiveness, unique scent profile, and the uncanny ability to get myself into life-threatening situations with mafia alphas.”
I would have continued my snarky commentary, but at that moment, he curled his fingers upward, finding a spot inside me that made stars explode behind my eyes. At the same time, Mr. Enigma’s hand slid lower, cupping my ass with a possessive squeeze. The dual sensation was overwhelming, and a broken cry escaped me, my body arching between them.
“There it is,” Mr. Iceflare said with satisfaction, his voice a rough purr against my ear. “The sweet spot that makes you forget everything but pleasure.”
He pressed against it again, more deliberately this time, establishing a rhythm that had me whimpering. My inner muscles clenched desperately around his fingers, trying to pull them deeper, to get more, to satisfy the aching emptiness that nothing but a knot could truly fill.
“Close,” Mr. Storm said from his bed, his voice strained as he watched, nostrils flaring at the change in my scent.
Mr. Iceflare increased his pace, his fingers working that spot inside me with merciless precision while Mr. Enigma’s hands continued their exploration, one sliding around to tease my nipple while the other kept its firm grip on my ass. Caught between them, surrounded by their scents, I was drowning in sensation.
“Please,” I gasped, not even sure what I was begging for anymore. More? Relief? For them to stop? For them to never stop?
Mr. Iceflare growled, his lips brushing my ear. “Come for us, little omega.”
As if my body had been waiting for permission, I shattered. Pleasure crashed through me in waves, my inner muscles convulsing around his fingers with such force that I felt himgroan in response. For one blessed moment, the burning need of my heat receded, replaced by a floating sensation of relief.
“Beautiful,” Mr. Enigma murmured, his hands gentling but not leaving my body as I trembled through the aftershocks. “Absolutely stunning.”
My forehead dropped to rest against Mr. Iceflare’s shoulder, my body trembling with the intensity of my release. But the euphoria faded almost immediately, like a match flaring bright, then quickly burning out. The momentary bliss evaporated, leaving behind an even more desperate emptiness. As Mr. Iceflare slowly withdrew his fingers, I had to bite back a whimper of protest, my body instinctively trying to follow his retreat, to keep him inside.
Mr. Enigma moved back, though his hands lingered on my skin as if reluctant to break contact. “Just a taste,” he said, his green eyes dark with promise. “Nothing more.”
