Chaotic (L.O.R.D.S. #7) — Chapter no 3

THREE

KASH TON INI TI ATION

COM MIT MENT JU NIOR YEAR AT BAR RING TON UNI VER SITY ’m nauseous. The gum the older woman offered me was work‐I ing, but I think it’s wearing off. That was hours ago.

I don’t care how big this yacht is; I feel us rocking back and forth out here on the Atlantic Ocean. We’ve been on this mega yacht longer than I’d like. We were supposed to get in and get out.

It’s a joke. The four of us can’t do anything on time.

“Where the fuck did Haidyn go?” Saint growls, checking his cell.

“He said he had to use the re stroom,” Adam re minds him. “Maybe he had to take a shit.”

Saint gives him a doubtful look just as his phone vibrates in his hand. “Fuck,” he hisses.

“What?” I wonder, digging in my suit jacket for mine as well.

“Haidyn’s doing his alone.”

“That’s not the plan,” Adam growls.

“Let’s go,” Saint snaps. We exit the poker room, taking the ele vator down to the main level. “Split up. Message the group as soon as you find him.”

We all go our separate ways, but he could be anywhere on this mega yacht. I look out over the ocean and see the lights from the shore. The yacht isn’t supposed to go too far. Just cruise out here for an all-night party.

I slow to a nor mal pace when I enter the pub lic view. I fix my suit jacket, button ing it and taking a quick look to make sure I don’t have any blood on me.

Nod ding, I mumble, “Good evening,” and “Hello,” making my way through a crowd of people. So far, we’re down two dead guys—both of which are now shark food—tak ing out one more than we were or‐ dered to for Saint. And we still have our three to go. We can’t let any of them be seen. That would ruin our plan and our initiation.

If you ask me, this was a stupid idea. Putting us all together in one place out in the ocean can only end in disas ter. Or with me puking all over myself. I’ve been chewing away on the gum the old lady gave me in hopes that it would calm me down. I’d say it’s helping, but I still feel a little uneasy.

I decide to swallow it. Maybe that will help. It was old anyway.

Should have spit it out hours ago.

I’m looking down at my cell when it continues to vibrate in my hand. It’s the group chat. They’re blowing it up, looking for Haidyn, but he’s not re sponding. I’m not surprised. We all pre fer to work alone. The Lords are forc ing this initiation to be a group activity.

I run into a soft surface, knocking my phone to the deck. “Fuck,” I hiss, bending down to pick it up. But they get to it first.

“I’m sorry.” Someone giggles. “I’m so clumsy.” Green eyes gaze up to mine through a set of dark painted lashes.

“I, uh… Sorry. It was my fault,” I tell her. “I wasn’t paying atten‐ tion.” But I am now.

It’s the woman I saw earlier. The one Saint wouldn’t let me play with. Bleached-blond hair in a tight bun at the nape of her neck. Her small body is wrapped in a red silk dress that dips low in the front, show ing me a set of perfect tits. They’re on the smaller side. The thin fabric might as well be a fuck ing bow—a present that I can un‐ wrap and play with. She has a dainty nose ring—septum pierc ing— that I hadn’t no ticed from a distance earlier.

She gives me a nervous smile and holds out my cell. It’s vibrat ing in her hand when I take it and shove it into the pocket of my dress slacks with out even bother ing to look at it. Haidyn’s a big boy; he

can handle himself.

“I—”

“I’ve been looking for you.” A man comes up behind the woman, and I watch her stiffen at the sound of his voice. It belongs to the

same man she was standing with when I first saw her.

She clears her throat and faces him. “I’m right here.” Her voice is now flat, all playfulness gone.

His dark eyes meet mine, and he reaches out, grabbing her hand.

“Quit playing around. That’s not what you’re here for.” He pulls her forward, and she trips in her expensive designer heels, but his hand in hers keeps her upright.

“Hey, man. Take it easy,” I say, stepping forward to follow them.

She was drinking a glass of champagne earlier. Who knows how many she’s had. It’s a party. Maybe she’s drunk and un steady.

He jerks her to a stop and spins around to glare at me. Her eyes quickly glance at mine before they drop to the deck. It’s clear she’s afraid of him. “I didn’t mean—”

“Shut up,” he barks at her, and her exposed shoulders begin to tremble.

I step into him, bump ing my chest into his. “Watch your fuck ing tone.” I’m six five. He’s maybe six foot, by the way I have to look down at him. I still feel a little seasick, but I will whoop his ass.

He gives me a cruel smile that shows off his paid-for mouth. He’s a Lord, of course. If I had to guess, I’d say very high up on the food chain, but I don’t know him person ally. That’s not surprising. So many of them from all over the world are attending this party tonight.

“Listen, boy, when you pay for it, you can treat it however you want.” He turns and yanks her away once more, pulling her through a door to the right.

I shouldn’t get involved. It’s none of my business. I’m here for an initiation… “Fuck,” I curse, pulling out my cell. Thirty unread mes sages in the group chat between Adam and Saint. Still nothing from Haidyn.

The newest message pops up.

SAINT: Where the fuck are you, Kash?

I type back a quick re sponse.

ME: Main deck forward.

And I start walk ing. As I pass the door on the right, I hear the girl crying out from inside. I don’t even give it a second thought. I shove

the door open and rush into the owner’s suite.

Cream-colored silk bed ding and gold trim. The chocolate-col ored drapes are open, allowing the dark water to be visible. The carpet is a crisp white. The room is fit for royalty.

The woman gets my attention. She’s in the process of trying to crawl off the king-size bed, and he’s lean ing over the edge, hands around her ankles, dragging her back to him as she kicks and screams. His hand slips, ripping one of her heels off in the process.

“Fucking cunt,” the man growls. “You’ll pay for that.”

I walk up behind the Lord, gripping the back of his suit jacket, and pull him off her.

“What the fuck?” He turns to look at me, and I punch him in the face, knocking him back onto the bed before he rolls to the floor. I bend down, grab the collar of his button-down to pull his head up off the floor, and punch him again. Blood splatters across the pristine carpet. I hit him once more and feel his cheek break under my split‐ ting knuckles.

He rolls onto his stomach and starts to crawl away. “Where are you going?” I taunt, feeling better already.

“Fucking bitch.” He groans, moving at the pace of a sloth. I clocked him pretty good.

I turn to look for some thing I can use and see a phone charger on the nightstand. I rip the cord from the wall and wrap it around his neck from behind over and over, then yank on it. I bend his head back at an odd angle while I plant my Tom Ford loafers on either side of his waist. He flails, hands digging, body thrashing, but he can’t get it off. I have it pulled so tight that blood runs down his neck from where it’s ripping his skin open. Once his body goes limp, I let go, and it falls to the floor.

I take a deep breath, adrenaline coursing through me, and step over his body. The girl is softly crying, huddling in the opposite cor‐ ner of the room. Making my way to the en suite bathroom to wash up, I pick up the red dress off the floor and toss it to her with out looking.

I might have wanted to fuck her when I first spotted her on the deck earlier, but the poor thing was al most raped. The least I can do

is give her privacy.

Re moving my suit jacket, I move on to the onyx-and-diamond striped Bergdorf Goodman cuff links, plucking them from my bloody sleeves. I undo my tie and the top couple of buttons on my dress shirt as well. Then I wash my hands, arms, face, and neck. Once done, I shut off the water and dry off. I pull my vibrat ing cell out and see I’ve missed another twenty-five messages.

I don’t even bother reading them, just type out and send.

Coming.

When I turn around, I’m startled to see the blonde standing in the doorway to the bathroom. Still very naked. I clear my throat, avert‐

ing my eyes. “I gave you your dress.”

“He ripped it,” comes her soft voice.

“Here.” I pick up my suit jacket from the bathroom floor and hold it out to her, making sure to look away while she slips it on. It’s a little

bloody, but better than nothing.

“Thank you,” she mumbles.

After a second, I glance up to see she has my suit jacket draped over her shoulders. It’s open down the front. It reaches her thighs and barely covers her breasts. I can see from her delicate neck, down her sternum, over her stomach and her shaved pussy. She’s got her legs crossed, but she makes no move to button it.

My eyes find hers, and she gives me a nervous smile before wiping the black mas cara from her flushed cheeks. “Thank you,” she re‐ peats.

I nod while yelling at myself.Leave, Kash. My broth ers are going to kill me.

She steps into me, placing her hands on my hips, and I stiffen.

“I want to re pay you.” She bites her red-painted lip nervously. Her

hands move to my belt.

Fuck me.

I run a hand through my hair to keep myself from picking her up and tossing her to the floor. “I just killed a man who was going to rape you, and you want to re pay me by letting me fuck you?” I want to make sure I understand where this situ ation is headed and that we’re both on the same page.

“I wasn’t in the mood.” She shrugs. “But now I am.” Her hands work slowly and steadily, undoing my buckle and then the button on my slacks, followed by my zipper.

My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I wish I had shut it off. “I can’t.”

I grab her tiny wrists, stop ping her, but my slacks have al ready fallen open and hang around my up per thighs.

Her green eyes drop to my cock. “Looks like you can.”

There’s no missing the out line of how hard I am in my gray boxer briefs. “I can’t,” I re peat, but make no move to push her away. This is what I wanted, her on her knees staring up at me while I fuck those pouty red lips. Hell, it looks like I al ready have by the way her makeup is smeared. All that’s missing is her drool and my cum on her flaw less face.

“You’re a Lord. You can do whatever you want.” She scans my left hand to look for a wedding ring. When she meets my eyes again,

she smiles at the lack of one.

“Not yet,” I add stupidly.

“Ah, I see.” She nods, taking a step back, and I re lease her wrists.

Thank God she understands, because I don’t know if I could turn her down one more time.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but a Lord going through initiations can’t stick his dick in a woman’s pussy, ass, or mouth.” Reach ing up, she slowly grabs the collar of my suit jacket and shrugs it off, exposing her body to me before it falls to her bare feet, but I keep my eyes on hers. “But we can still play.” She walks backward into the room and scoots onto the bed, spreading her legs.

I can’t help but look over her body—I only have so much re straint— spread open and ready to be played with. She’s lean ing back on her hands, chest pushed out, show ing off her breasts, pink nip ples hard and beg ging for me to suck on them. If I had time, I’d tie her to the bed and lick every inch of her while she begged me to let her get off.

She falls onto her back, spreads her legs wider, and lifts her hips, letting me have a better view of her pussy. I can see how wet she is from here, and my cock begs to fuck her cunt until she’s coming all over it and then let her lick it clean.

“Goddamn.” The word falls from my lips like a prayer, and she smiles. Wars have been started over pussy because of weak men like me.

She’s not wrong. If we “play,” I’m not breaking any rules. The ques‐ tion is, can I stop myself?

“I saw you staring at me earlier.” She smiles. “It’s okay. You can gag me if I get too loud.” Her eyes flicker to the closed door quickly

before re turn ing to mine.

God dammit.

I stay where I am, unsure of what to do or unable to move. My slacks are undone and about to fall down my legs while my cock strains against my boxer briefs. My heart pounds just think ing about hold ing her down while watching my cock slide in and out of her greedy cunt.

The moment I saw her earlier, I wanted nothing more than to strip her naked and fuck her. Even though I knew I couldn’t.

“Fuck me,” I exclaim loudly when I spot a woman on the deck, sip‐ ping a glass of champagne.

“I apol o gize,” Saint says to an old lady glaring at me for my lan‐ guage. “First time on the water. He’s feeling ill.”

Her face soft ens, and she opens her small purse. “I understand.

This will help. I al ways carry them for my husband.” She hands me a piece of gum for nausea, and I pop it into my mouth, mumbling my thanks.

She walks off into a crowd, and Saint turns to me. “Keep it down.”

I ignore him as I watch her look in our direction. “Goddamn…”

“Like Adam said, you can’t use your dick right now,” he re minds me, grabbing my suit jacket and pulling me up a set of stairs and out of sight of the woman.

“I can jack off while I watch her fuck herself,” I ramble, trying to look over my shoulder. “I can fuck her with things other than my cock. Record it and watch it over and over.”

“Well, here I am. What are you going to do about it?” She arches a dark brow while playfully biting her bottom lip.

“Fuck it,” I say, and she giggles softly.

I grab a tube of hand lotion off the counter in the bathroom and walk over to the end of the bed. She sits up, shoving my slacks the rest of the way down my legs and then my boxer briefs. My dick springs to attention, and she licks her lips.

“Don’t,” I growl. My body is wound so tight I’m about to burst or vomit from the seasick ness. “I can’t think of my cock in your mouth,”

I warn her.

Her lying on her back, her head hang ing off the edge with her pouty red lips wrapped around my dick and my hands tightening on her neck—pre-cum leaks from my dick just imagining her gagging on it.

She gazes up at me through her dark-painted lashes, and her lips part when she whispers, “Play with me.”

My hand drops between her legs, and I touch her pussy. I run my fingers along her lips, and she’s soaked.

I take a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t.” I try to convince myself that I could ever deny this woman in front of me. She’s every man’s wet dream.

She picks up the lotion, pops the lid, and squeezes some into her hand. Then she gets to her knees at the edge of the bed. “Then stop me,” she tells me.

“I don’t even know your name.” I want to roll my eyes at myself.

I’m just try ing to come up with reasons as to why I shouldn’t be here with her right now. Like her name fuck ing matters. It didn’t

when I first saw her out on the deck.

“Eve.”

Of course it is. Wasn’t Eve the one who did some thing forbidden… some thing about an apple? Fuck, I’ve never wished that I was re li‐ gious until now. I don’t think that story ended well. She’s thesome‐ thing forbidden that I shouldn’t be touching, but I’m going to any‐ way.

“What’s yours?” She runs her lotion-covered hand slowly up my shaft, and my hips press forward, wanting more.

“Kash,” I breathe.

She smiles. “Kash, I want to come all over your fingers as you come on me.”

“Goddamn.” We’re going to do this, and there’s no going back.

Fuck the Lords. Fuck my broth ers and fuck the dead guy who lies on the floor beside the bed. I did a good deed, and she’s my re ward.

Her hand quickens on my cock, and I push her back to lying on the bed. I crawl on top of her, spreading her legs open with mine. My fingers play with her pussy for a second before I slide one in.

Her eyes glass over, and her hand begins to slow on my dick. Re‐ moving my fin ger, I slap her cunt, and she cries out. Blink ing, her now fo cused eyes meet mine. Her legs try to close, but I keep them

open with my knees.

“Eyes on me, Eve,” I order.

That man who was just about to rape her wasn’t the first. She’s been used before. I’ve seen this at Carnage. The abused tune their abusers out—dissociate.

I scan her body, looking closely, and notice she has faint scars dot‐ ted on her inner thighs and wrists. Has she been beaten, or were they self-inflicted? I’ve seen those abused self-harm due to the trauma they’ve endured.

She also has several small bruises on her upper arms. Fingerprints maybe? Are they fresh from the guy I just stopped from raping her?

At first glance out on the deck, she looked thin, but the way her ribs pro trude through her skin tells another story. She looks frail—break‐ able. Possi bly from starvation or use of drugs.

I look over her hip and see three short ver tical lines—they’re not fresh but they don’t seem old either. I run my finger over them, and she flinches.

“Tell me to stop, Eve.” I drop my hand back to her pussy, loving how red and swollen it is now from when I slapped it. “And I will.”

“No.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Please don’t. I want you to touch me.”

I slide two fin gers into her this time, and her green eyes stare into mine. I can see them more clearly. They’re the prettiest green I’ve ever seen. She’s got them en hanced with black liner and mas cara that still re mains on her cheeks from crying earlier.

“Good girl,” I praise, and she whimpers. Pulling them out, I slide them in again.

Her hand starts to run up and down my shaft on autopilot, and I watch her eyes grow heavy when I add a third fin ger. “That’s it.

You’re doing so good, Eve.”

She arches her neck, and her hips buck when my fin gers get rough.

“Please…oh, God…” Her hand falls from my dick, and I don’t even care about myself. She’s mesmer izing.

“Look at me, Eve,” I com mand. “Eyes on mine.”

She swallows and lowers her head, and her pretty green eyes find me once again. “Fuck, you’re goddamn perfect,” I tell her.

Her body rocks back and forth on the bed, and I work a fourth into her. She cries out as I shove them all the way in to my knuckles.

“How many can you take, Eve? Hmm? Can you take them all?”

She’s gasping, body wiggling under mine, and I’ve never seen any‐

thing sexier.

“Angel,” I decide to call her.

If I believed in heaven, she’d be what I imagine it would look like.

Her once tight bun has come loose, and her hair now fans out on the disheveled comforter and around her perfect face. Even with smeared makeup, she’s breathtaking.

“Please?” she begs, her tear-filled eyes searching mine, and just when I think she couldn’t get any more gorgeous, she does.

Her hands find their way to my hair. Nails scrape my scalp while her hips ride my fin gers. “Fuucckkk…” Her lashes fall closed, and I push my hand far ther into her cunt, feeling it stretch against her re sis‐ tance.

Her eyes pop open in panic, and she gasps.

“Re lax, Eve,” I tell her, working them in and out. I’m moving more slowly than I’d like, but I don’t want to hurt her.

She screams out my name, her hands fisting my hair, and I smile.

“You can take it, angel.” You’d be sur prised what a body can endure.

Fresh tears fall from the corner of her eyes, and I watch with fas ci‐ nation when she nods her head once. “I…I can take it.”

“Good girl.” I push my hand against the pres sure of her body want‐ ing to keep it out. “You’re so fuck ing soaked.”

Her legs tremble and her breathing becomes la bored. “Just re lax for me, angel. Let me in.”

“O-kay.” She sniffs.

“That’s it. You’re doing so good for me.” My eyes drop to watch my fingers work in and out of her tight pussy. “Come for me, Eve. I want to see how pretty you are when you get off.”

She cries out. I slap my free hand over her mouth and watch her eyes roll back into her head.

“That’s it, angel. I wish you could see how pretty you look right now.”

Her wet lashes fan her cheeks, and I smile when her soaked cunt tightens around my fin gers. She arches her back, her chest swelling when she sucks in a long breath and holds it while she comes.

I gently re move my fingers and my hand from her mouth.

She gasps in a breath, and I stand, allowing her to close her legs.

Rolling over, she curls into a ball, and I bring my fingers to my lips, licking them. Closing my eyes, I hum my appre ciation for how fuck‐ ing good she tastes.

I yank my slacks up to fas ten them before buckling my belt, then re turn to the bathroom to wash my hands. My cell vibrates nonstop in my pocket, and I quickly dry my hands off to answer it. “Hey—”

“Where the fuck are you?” Adam snaps.

“I’m com ing.” I wish that was the case. I’m so fuck ing hard right now.

“Haidyn has taken out his Lord. Have you done the same?”

Uh… “No.”

“Then what the fuck have you been doing? We’ve been texting you.” He’s lowered his voice, so I know he’s around a crowd of peo‐ ple.

“I said I’m coming. Chill.” I turn to look at the angel lying on the bed, but there’s nothing other than a disheveled bed. “Be right there.” I hang up and rush into the room. “Eve?” I bark, looking around, but she’s gone. Her ripped dress is still on the floor and so are her heels. My jacket is also MIA, and the door to the suite is closed. “Fuck.” She ran.

My cell vibrates again, and I grind my teeth. “What the fuck do you want?” I demand, look ing at the dead guy on the floor.

“For you to do your fuck ing job.” This time, it’s Saint. “Where are you? We’re coming to you.”

“I’m in the owner’s suite, and I have a body.”

“Your initiation?”

“No.” I bend down and start to dig through his pockets so I can put a name to the Lord I murdered.

“What in the fuck are you doing killing random people?” Saint de‐ mands. “You’re going to get us in trouble.” He didn’t feel that way when we killed his plus-one in the poker room.

I ignore Saint and pull out the wallet. Opening it up, I scan his li‐ cense and frown. “It’s him.”

“What?” Saint snaps, barging into the room.

I look up to see Adam behind him. Ending the call, I put my cell away. Haidyn enters, slamming the door shut. He glances around the room. “What the fuck happened in here?”

“I killed him. My Lord.” I frown. “But this isn’t the picture I was given.” I stand, re move the card from my wallet, and show it to Saint.

Haidyn snatches the license from my hand and places it next to the card Saint holds. “Name matches, but the guy doesn’t look the same.”

“Old picture.” Adam shrugs. “His license photo could be over twenty years old. He’s just gained thirty pounds and grew a beard. I think he looks like the Lord.”

“What ever.” Saint hands me back the card. “It’s done. Let’s toss him over the private balcony. We’ve got to move on to Adam’s.”

“What’s up with the dress?” Adam asks, picking up the ripped ma‐ te rial. He stares at the silk in his hands as if he’s seen it before.

“Did you kill his wife too?” Haidyn glances around, spotting her high heels as well. “Where’s the body?”

She def initely wasn’t his wife. He was paying to rape her. “Gone,” I answer, re fus ing to give them any details about my angel. The less they know, the better.

I help my broth ers throw the Lord into the Atlantic Ocean over the private bal cony. Placing my arms on the railing, I watch the deep sea

that’s lit up from the lights un der the yacht, feeling the nausea re‐ turn ing and trying to make sense of the night.

Who the fuck was that Lord and why was he with my girl? Was it meant to go down this way? Was she supposed to have led him to

me? I have to find her.

“Let’s go.” Adam claps his hands.