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Ruthless King: A Dark Mafia Omegaverse Fated-Mates Romance (Ruthless Warlords Book 1) Page 8

by Alison Aimes


Another roar. Louder. More commanding. The roar of the victor.

The need between her legs flared to an agonizing ache, and she was helpless to stop it. Lust colored everything red, stealing her vision and her thoughts.

The tool slipped from her grasp.

She dropped to her knees, palms pressing to the floor, as her back arched and she moaned out loud.

The heat had taken over.

9

Bathed in the blood of his enemies, Nikolai stomped back down the corridor. His nostrils flared, the sweet scent of his omega’s cunt, primed and ready, a beacon he’d follow to the ends of the fucking universe.

He would rip apart anyone who tried to take her from him.

Those fools had died sooner than they should have, but the scent of her—more honeyed and richer than before—had pulled at him to return to her quickly.

Low growls rumbled from his chest. His fangs throbbed in time with his cock. His balls hung heavy and full, swinging with the clomp of each heavy boot-fall. His dick was so erect it dug into the laces of his pants, leaving a mark.

No more waiting. He would fuck her now. She would submit and stop blocking the visions. And she would purr for him.

That sound—one he hadn’t known existed and had never heard before—was the most pleasant, erotic sound he’d ever heard. More soothing than the dulcet plink of coins sliding into his bank account as his wealth grew and grew. More gratifying than the cacophony of glittering elite voices who now fell over themselves to do him favors. More thrilling than the chant repeated over and over during the Brotherhood ritual of acceptance when he’d been finally admitted into their ranks.

That purring sound was addictive. He wanted to hear it again. Immediately.

Unease trickled at the edges of his consciousness, a voice that whispered he was supposed to care a lot more about drawing the visions from her than that sweet, sexy purring sound, but it disappeared like smoke the instant he stepped back into his room.

He threw back his head and roared.

A mound of black sheets and pillows was now in the middle of his floor like a nest—and in the center, positioned on her hands and knees, back arched, was his omega.

Presenting. For him.

Waiting. For him.

Nothing had ever felt so right.

He roared once more.

Heavy-lidded eyes rose to his. “Alpha.”

The single word was drenched in desperation.

He knew exactly what she needed. Because he needed it, too.

Ripping his laces wide, he took out his dick, gripping the stem as he ran his thumb over the red, swollen head, the vein running along the side thick and pulsing. Like the rest of him, his cock was huge—and hungry. It wanted in her now.

She whimpered with each one of his strokes; her gaze locked on the hand fisting his shaft, never wavering.

“Turn.” The word was a near guttural growl.

She mewled in protest, but immediately scrambled to obey. The pillows and sheets scattered as she hurried into position, legs spread wide and trembling.

He dropped to his knees behind her, still half-clothed, still stroking himself. Her bare ass and pretty pink slit made him throw back his head and roar once more.

She was fucking drenched.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. She was perfect. Made for him.

The urge to ram inside was a drumbeat in his brain, the Alpha instinct primal and all-encompassing.

But there was a new instinct that overrode even that. One forged by the fated-mate bond and driven home by the throbbing golden bands at his wrists. The fundamental primal urge to please his omega. To ensure she was as wet and wanting as he. To give her so much pleasure that she was always desperate and ready to give herself to him, not out of a compulsion to obey, but because it was what she wanted. Craved. Needed.

As much as he needed to hear that intoxicating purr of hers that was just for him.

“On your elbows. Forehead to the ground.”

She complied immediately, gorgeous tits swinging as they brushed the silk black sheet beneath her, and her nipples hardened further.

“Good girl.” He let go of his cock, leaving it to bob between her inviting ass cheeks and palmed a lush globe still slightly red from where he’d punished her earlier.

She cried out. Spread her legs wider. “Fuck me, Alpha. I need it now.”

Crack.

“I make the demands.” He kneaded her sweet flesh, reactivating the heat, reminding her who was always in charge.

“Yes, Alpha.” The force of his handling rocked her forward, but she hurried back into position.

“Good omega.”

She sighed at the praise, but she did not purr.

He wanted that fucking purr.

He slid his hands up her body, reveling in the curve of hips and the narrow tuck of her waist before he slid his hands to her ribs and then, slipping between the floor and her breasts, he toyed with her nipples, thumbing the sensitive areolas until she was pressing harder into his palms, her back arching as her hips rocked.

Slick drenched her and he could see her sweet little pussy hole opening and closing as small contractions pushed the slick from her, hungry to be filled.

But still no purr.

He buried his nose in her cunt and licked.

Fuck yes, her taste was sweeter than the purest crystal ice pools at the top of Abzal’s highest peaks.

“Yes, Alpha!” She pressed back hard.

He tapped the side of her breast with the flat of his palm and growled low.

She stilled.

With an approving growl, he devoured her once more, using the flat of his tongue to work her clit. Lick after lick. Wiping away any other scent while he filled her with his own taste and saliva. Working her higher until . . . she came all over his tongue, her body shuddering as she screamed his name.

One fist gripped her hair to hold her in place while he used a single thick finger on his other to penetrate her tight hole.

The discovery of the thin membrane filled him with both pleasure and fury. A faint voice whispered that he was being irrational, that he’d already known she was untouched, but he was too far gone into instinct to care. It pleased him to know he would be the first and only to have her cunt. But he was also maddened by the notion that something as thin and insignificant as a membrane tried to keep him from what was his.

He wanted it gone. He wanted no more blocks between them. He wanted in her now.

Finger still working her clit, he rose over her once more. “Spread your legs wider, omega.”

Panting, she did as commanded.

He lined up his cock with her pink slit. “Say it,” he growled.

“P-please.”

He snarled. “Say it all, omega.”

“I need to be fucked and marked,” she wailed. “Please, Alpha, I need you.”

I need you.

It wasn’t the purr, but it was the second best sound he’d heard.

He rammed inside.

She cried out.

He stilled, using his grip on her hair to keep her in place.

He’d felt the tear as if it was in his own chest.

“Shhh,” he nuzzled the back of her sweat-drenched neck with his nose, licked at her delicious skin. “Good, little omega,” he growled. “So tight. So wet.” He dragged the tips of his fangs across the curve where her shoulder met her neck while his free hand toyed with her clit, strumming the swollen nub between his thick fingers. One obstacle between them torn down. “Pleasing her Alpha so well.”

She cried out again, but this time there was no pain, only need.

Exactly the signal he’d been waiting for.

He worked himself in deeper. Her slick coated his dick, easing his way.

She sighed, moaned. Arching her back and raising her ass higher to take more of him. “Yes, Alpha, yes.”

The sound of her submission, her pleasure, sparked his higher
.

He pushed all the way inside, bottoming out as the hair at his groin pressed to her ass.

She was his.

He roared once more and drew nearly all the way out. Thrust back in hard. Fell into a rhythm.

She wriggled beneath him, clawing at the bedding nest, not to get away, but to work him deeper inside her. Like a good omega should.

He rammed himself harder. Deeper.

She matched him every step of the way. Her hips lifting in time with his, each smack of his balls against her ass making her moan while he snarled and roared.

This was better than he could have ever imagined. And he had imagined plenty.

Every time he’d taken another omega, he’d imagined it was her.

Every time he’d used his own hand, he’d imagined it was her pussy he was invading, pounding, claiming.

And yet, no imagining was as good as the real thing.

His balls drew up tight while her sheath gripped him tighter and tighter.

“Alpha, please. Mark me. I need it now. P-please.”

That was all it took.

Pulling her to her knees, he sunk his fangs into the crook of her neck while his cock hammered deeper inside her and his thumb worked her clit hard and fast.

She screamed, twitching in his hold, pinned in place by his cock and fangs. Owned. Marked. Claimed.

She came again, her body convulsing while her pussy squeezed him tighter than a fist, and wave after wave of contractions slammed through them both, their hips thrusting in tandem as he laved at the bite wound with his tongue and filled her with his seed. Her pleasure his, his need her own. Blood, saliva, cum, and sweat mixed and fused them as one.

The pleasure went on and on. More intense than anything he’d experienced before.

He was still gripping her hard when the last of his orgasm ended and the knot at the base of his dick swelled, stuffing her tight sheath full of cock and locking them together as the final stage of the claiming occurred.

She whimpered.

“Take it, omega. We’ve got years to make up for.” He sucked harder at the bite mark, pleased it was already beginning to close. Even more pleased at the new wave of slick that wet his dick as she responded to his command and the pleasure of his mouth on her skin.

“Yes, Alpha. So good.”

His chest expanded, the praise in her tone pleasing him greatly. Her obvious trust as she went limp against him equally agreeable.

The urge to take care of his omega was stronger now.

He nuzzled her neck, playing with her pussy while he threaded his other hand with hers and lifted their intertwined palms for a better look. Golden bands, thick and easily visible, encircled her wrists and her throat. It was proof of the claiming and that it was one driven by the rare fated-mate bond.

“Dahlia.” Her name rolled easily off his tongue. “Mine. Now and forever.”

“Nikolai.” A soft sigh and then, there it was . . . the purr.

Light and delicate, ephemeral as a snowflake on his palm, and yet as beautiful and searing as ice against his skin.

The sweetness of it burned the inside of his chest. He’d spent his whole life striving for power and watching his successes add up like steps on a ladder—one that would lead him to her—but he’d never felt as if he’d achieved anything as important as he had at this moment.

His knot expanded.

She purred once more. A sound of sweet contentment.

He held her closer.

Energy crackled against his skin, a live current that rushed between her flesh and his, raising the hairs on his body as a familiar rush of violent white heat slammed through not just his fangs and cock, but his every cell.

Though he couldn’t see from his position, he was one hundred percent certain his omega’s gorgeous blue eyes were bleeding to black.

Her gift had returned. The block torn through as easily as the membrane that had kept him from her cunt.

The images crashed into him, invading his mind as they solidified in the air above his head.

10

“I don’t like it here.”

“I told you to stay in the hideout with Maxheim and the others, but you insisted on coming along. Now you’re stuck with me until I say it’s time to go.” Tugging at his little brother Damien’s hand, Nikolai dragged him through the ash and wreckage.

Truth be told, he didn’t like it here, either. Every step deeper into the burnt, hollowed-out outpost reminded him of the horror of that rotation. Of the sightless eyes and twisted, melting flesh that had once been Naytalia. Of the flames devouring the cradle that had housed little Zaya and Mikhail. Of how he’d woken himself, his eyes blurred, his head throbbing, the blaze eating at his skin. Somehow, barely alive, he’d managed to stagger from the corridor and throw himself through a window—right before the whole place exploded into a giant fireball.

He saw it all enough in his nightmares.

But there was no space for weakness in his life.

The others were counting on him, even Zaya and Mikhail.

He did not intend to let them down.

“I don’t want to be with them. I-I want to be with you.” Damien’s voice was tiny and scared. “No matter what.”

The heaviness in Nikolai’s chest increased. Damien had once been fearless—harder to corral than the twins—but now he clung as if terrified his older brother would disappear too.

Nikolai slung his arm—still pink in patches from the healing burns—around his brother’s smaller shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here with me. There’s no one braver than you, Damien.”

He kept his voice low as he led his brother forward and scanned the ground. Coming back was a big risk. At the moment, Olan thought he was dead. A lucky break since it gave Nikolai some breathing room.

But he wouldn’t stay dead forever. News of the Skolov boy who’d made it out of the fire was spreading among Abzalian inhabitants. Some snitch would pass it along to Olan, and the Alpha crime boss would come after him to ensure all loose ends connected to the Skolovs were tied up tight.

But by then, Nikolai and his family would be long gone.

This was his final stop before he took them into the polar mountains where only the hardiest survived, and Olan and his goons would be too afraid to follow.

They should already be on their way, but he’d had to come.

He’d promised Zaya and Mikhail justice and intended to deliver.

“Give me a few more minutes to look around,” he told his brother, kicking at a large pile of ash. “I want to see if we can find anything useful before we go.”

Something solid thudded beneath his boot.

“What’s that?” Already quicker than the rest of them, Damien squatted and, rooting around, held up a small, bluish-black lump.

Nikolai’s chest squeezed. “That’s Naytalia’s ring. I remember the sapphire. The Kuril head gave it to her recently. It made her happy.”

Damien’s eyes lit up. “We can sell it. Get some more food for the trip.”

Nikolai snatched it from him. “We’ll see.” Thanks to the Lundin omega girl, he already had a nice nest egg to fall back on. Except it felt wrong to sell any of it.

And that felt even more wrong. Her father had killed his family. He should want nothing more to do with her.

“I don’t see anything else.” Damien paused. “Wait. What’s that?” He bounded across the space, his usual fearlessness returning. Plunging his fingers into another pile of ash, he scooped up a glob of dark, twisted metal that looked like it had once been a perfectly formed circle.

The sight of it stole Nikolai’s breath. “Bring it here.”

Damien’s gaze was wary as he slapped it into Nikolai’s hand. His brother had heard the grief he couldn’t quite hide.

Fucking weakness. He’d have to cut it out of himself if was going to be the leader his family needed.

Nikolai willed his voice to steady. “It looks like Zaya’s teething ring.” His little sister
had loved to slobber all over that thing.

Damien’s face twisted as if he might cry.

Nikolai understood.

This was exactly the kind of object he’d been looking for, and yet . . . it drove home the truth. Neither Zaya nor Mikhail would ever use it again. They were gone.

The blackened edges of the teething ring dug into his palm. “Time to go.”

It was time to plot and plan and grow strong.

Then, he was coming back and burning to ash every single dream Olan Lundin and his family ever had. Like they’d done to his flesh and blood.

Nikolai sucked down a harsh breath. The omega’s block slammed into him, extinguishing the vision from his mind and the air above.

He tumbled back into the present as if he’d fallen through time and hit the ground hard. Except he hadn’t moved at all.

He was still on the floor of his private shuttle, in a nest of sheets and pillows, his arms wrapped tight around the omega, her back to his front, his dick knotted deep inside her.

Rage filled him—and not just because she’d somehow gotten her block to return and end the visions. Once again, she’d seen his pain and doubts.

“Nikolai, I am sorry.” Her voice was soft and kind.

It stung worse than any cruelty.

“When I’m not fucking you, my title is Alpha, omega—and I don’t need your pity.” That was the last thing he wanted from her. “I need your gift to show me what happened the rotation of the fire. I don’t need to revisit any of this other shit.”

She stiffened. “I don’t know how the vision came on in the first place, much less what stopped it.”

She tugged at his arms, trying to squirm away—only to grind against him, her cunt gripping his cock harder.

The knot swelled tight.

He growled.

She moaned.

Hells, the lust between them was explosive, stronger even than their animosity and the taint of that last vision.

The heat would pull them under soon enough.

Another vision would surely follow. This time he needed to be better prepared.

Fighting the descent into rut, he lifted her with him as he sat up. He scooted backward, dragging her toward the desk. Each movement sent his cock channeling deeper inside her.