Filed to story: The LORDS Series Free PDF by Shantel Tessier
Making my way up to the house, I smile that the idiot doesn’t even have security at the front gate tonight. That’s how fucking cocky he is. Stupid motherfucker. He is not untouchable.
I stay low, crouching down behind the trimmed bushes lining the side of the property. Every now and then, I peek to watch the guests get out of their cars and limos to be escorted inside by men dressed in white tuxedos.
Not a single guy who resembles security is to be seen. He feels safe here. Making my way to the side of the house, I see the wooden lattice that I know she uses to get in and out of the house when she’s snuck out in the past. I start to climb it until I get to the second floor, where I jump the railing to the balcony. Wrapping my leather-covered hand around the knob, I turn it to find it unlocked.
Slipping into the bedroom, I look around and see it’s empty, like I knew it would be. She’s downstairs partying with the others. It’s been going on for hours. I’m sure she’s drunk and bored as shit by now.
The room is spotless. Not a single thing out of place. Her king-size four-post bed sits against the wall to the left. The white duvet covers it along with an obsessive number of pillows. The bench at the end has her favorite throw blanket that she prefers to wrap up in when watching a movie. I gave it to her for her birthday a few years ago.
Slowly walking through the room, I inhale the scent of vanilla. It makes me groan, thinking of grabbing her hair and burying my face in her neck. My fingers digging into her creamy thighs while my cock fucks her cunt.
I’m so fucking hard that it hurts. I dream about her when I’m asleep and awake. She’s consuming me to the point I’m suffocating.
Shaking my head, I adjust my dick and make my way to the door. I don’t have time for that right now. I leave the bedroom door open as I step out of the room and into a lit hallway. Large, expensive artwork hangs on the walls that he paid millions for from well-known artists.
Music filters up from the lower level as I wrap my gloved fingers around the wooden banister to see the people below.
Everyone is dressed to the nines, like they always are. But my eyes catch sight of a bleached blonde. Ellington Jade Asher. She stands over in the corner by a bar. Her back leans against it while she looks over the crowd with an expressionless look on her gorgeous face, and she’s holding a glass of champagne in her hand. I wonder how many she’s had.
My little demon. She’s always been the one. She doesn’t know it, but when the time is right, I’ll let her know.
Her mother walks up to her, and Elli gives her a fake smile.
Soon, Elli. Soon you’ll worship me like the devil worships his hell.
A man walks up the stairs, and I smile when I see who it is. Jackpot.
I push away from the banister and quickly make my way to the end of the hallway to the master suite. I hide behind the open door in the shadows and wait.
The sound of his feet approaching has my heart racing. I remove the gun from my jeans and slowly cock it, trying to make as little noise as possible.
He enters the room, and I watch him make his way past the Alaskan king bed and into the adjoining bathroom, all while he whistles. The light shines under the shut door, and I make my way over to it, softly turning the door handle and poking my head inside. I see him at the sink, opening a bottle of pills. Viagra.
Fuck, I hope someone shoots me when I have to take medication to get hard.
Popping the pill in his mouth, he throws back his glass of scotch, swallowing it. Not sure what the fuck he’s going to do with a hard dick while in the middle of a party, but it doesn’t matter.
When he turns to exit, I step inside the bathroom, raising my gun to aim at his head. He doesn’t even have time to register what’s about to happen when I pull the trigger.
The bullet hits him right between the eyes. Blood runs down his face and onto his shirt, and I watch his blue eyes turn black. A smile tugs at my lips while the life slowly drains out of him. I like the rush of killing. I know that’s what a serial killer would say. And although I do kill people, I do it because I’m ordered to. Not because I choose random people to torture. My assignments come from a higher-up. And you never say no. A Lord lives in a kill-or-be-killed world. And I don’t know about you, but I’d do anything to survive. Even if that means taking someone else’s life.
He drops to his knees before falling face-first onto the white marble floor.
I bend down next to his body and remove his cell phone from the pocket of his William Westmancott suit. Then I take the bolt cutters from my backpack and put his right pointer finger between the two blades before snapping it off. Dropping his hand, a fresh pool of blood flows from his now severed finger.
“I’m going to need this,” I say, opening up my backpack once again and pulling out the small lunch box. I place the finger inside, securing it with the ice pack, and then unzip my jacket pocket before placing the cell inside for safekeeping. He’s got a lock on it. Note to self: never use a body part to unlock your phone. It can easily be removed and used. Even an eye.
My head snaps up when I hear a sharp intake of breath. She sees the man lying facedown, and her red lips part to scream. The champagne flute in her hand falls to the floor, shattering at her heels. “Daddy-“
I’m slamming her up against the wall next to the open door before she can finish. My hand slaps over her mouth, and I pin her in place.
Big ice-blue eyes look up at the mask covering my face. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. I could stare at them every second of every day. They’ve never been so large; she’s terrified of what she sees. Me. I can feel her small body trembling against mine, and tears start to fill her eyes. They’re gorgeous.
She blinks, quickly looking at the man’s body and then back to me. I remove the gun from my waistband and press it into the side of her ribs with my free hand. She whimpers, her legs buckling. But I remove my hand from her mouth to move it around her neck, holding her up and restricting her air.
Her now smeared lips part, and I hold the gun in place. “This is our little secret,” I whisper, not giving my voice away. She knows me.
Nodding, she grips my forearm, and I hate the fact that I wore gloves because I’ve dreamed of my hands on her skin like this. Of course, my cock was fucking her cunt at the same time.
“I’d hate to have to kill you too.” I push the gun farther into her ribs with my words, hoping she’ll take me seriously. I’d never kill her, but I sure as fuck would make her regret being alive.
Tears spill over her bottom lashes and run down her cheeks while her lips start to turn blue. Her body fights me, but not as much as I’d expect. I tilt my head to the side when she pushes her hips forward into mine, and I know she can feel how hard I am.
I bite my tongue to keep from moaning. Fuck, I knew she’d be this way. A part of me has always known she’d be my dirty little whore once I got the chance to make her mine.
I let go and take a step back. She falls to her knees, coughing and choking out a sob. I crouch in front of her, using the gun to push the bleach-blond hair from her tear-streaked face. She looks up at me through her watery lashes, and I imagine shoving my cock down her tight throat. Or in her pussy from behind. Making her come while she stares at the man I just killed lying on the floor. I want him to know she’ll be my filthy little slut one day, and I’m going to do things to her that will make her disgusted with herself. I’ll control her like a puppet on a string.
“Please …”
I stand, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her to her feet. She goes to cry out, but I slap my free hand over her mouth, pulling her back to my front. The backpack is already on my shoulder, so I hold the gun to her ribs and order through clenched teeth, “Walk.”
She does as she’s told with her arms up and out to the side, and we silently make our way through the bathroom, out of the master suite, and down the hall past all the guests on the lower level to her bedroom.
Shutting the door behind me with my boot, I let go and shove her farther into the room before locking us in. Alone.
“Pl-ease,” she begs, turning to face me. I like that she wants to look at me. That she’s not going to turn and hide. Those big blue eyes look me up and down, taking in my size and weighing her options. When she realizes she has no chance of winning in a fight, she licks her wet lips and decides to bargain. “Money-“
“Facedown on the floor. Hands behind your back,” I order as quietly but as sternly as I can, interrupting her. The moment I step out of the window, she’ll run for help. And that’s just unacceptable.
She places her hands up in surrender, the movement pulling her already short black cocktail dress up a little more, exposing the top of her thighs. My eyes linger on them for a second, wondering what she tastes like. I just want to spread them wide while I bury my tongue so deep inside her she’s screaming for me to stop.
Sniffing, she goes on, getting my attention. “I won’t-“
I hold my gun up to her chest, and a sob breaks loose, causing her shoulders to shake. Her knees give out, and she falls to the pristine white carpet like the good girl she is, positioning herself on her stomach.
Removing my backpack, I unzip it and grab what I want. Then I straddle her hips, placing my gun in the back of my jeans. Pulling her hands behind her back, I secure them with a zip tie, making her sob once more.
I stand and look over her lying there, tied and ready to be used. Fuck, how many times have I imagined this? It’s like the Lords are rewarding me and torturing me at the same time.
As a show of our loyalty, we can’t fuck anyone for the first three years of our initiation. Not until our senior year. I’m only a sophomore. But right here, right now, I feel like this is an opportunity I can’t pass up. Checking my watch, I see I’ve got eight minutes before my time is up. Technically, the job is done, so I’ve already passed this initiation.
“Spread your legs. Ass up in the air,” I command.
Burying her face in the carpet, she does as she’s told. She understands she has no leverage here. If she wants to walk out of this room alive, she’ll give me what I want.
Ever so slowly, she spreads her knees, the movement lifting her ass up in the air, forcing the hem of her dress to rise up in the process. I crouch down between her legs, looking over the wet spot in her nude-colored thong. “What turned you on the most? Your daddy lying dead on the floor? Or my gun pressed into your side?”
A shrill scream comes from her when she realizes she’s been caught. The bitch is turned on by it. I knew she was. The adrenaline of danger can be arousing for some.
Grabbing her hair, I yank her to her feet and shove her back into one of the corner posts of her king-size bed. I start removing my belt.
“Please!” She sobs, trying to run from me, but I hold her in place with my body.
The leather is yanked through my belt loops, and I shove it into her mouth. Bringing it behind her head, I secure it around the back of the post where I buckle it in place as tight as it will go.
I move back to stand in front of her, my heavy breathing filling the inside of my mask. The only thing she can see are my eyes, and I’m wearing contacts. They’re as red as the blood pouring out of the guy I killed in the room down the hall.