The Cruelest Chaos (Unsainted Book 3)

by KV Rose

  More tears sting my eyes and I cradle my arms tighter to my chest, my lip trembling.

  “I was so scared and I felt like a kid again.” He meets my gaze, running his thumb back and forth over my cheek. “I felt like a stupid kid because love isn’t real and it doesn’t happen that fast and the people I love... I always hurt them.”

  I think about the girl. I think about the night I told him no and he didn’t want to listen...

  His hand leaves my face and my stomach twists up in knots. He looks away again and I can’t take it.

  I can’t take it because he’s right. I did need someone. Did want someone. It’s why I kissed Connor. Why I fell into Maverick’s arms in the first place.

  But he’s wrong, too.

  I wanted it to be him.

  Since the moment he tackled me to the ground, my crazy heart has wanted him.

  “I hurt you, too. And I don’t have a good excuse. I don’t know what you were thinking when you were in that shed, but you had every reason to think it. Every reason to think I wasn’t right for you. I’m not.”

  No. He is. You are. But I can’t speak.

  “I’m not right for you, Ella, and I might never be.”

  He still won’t look at me. No. This week has been miserable. Let me come back. Let it go.

  “I’m a terrible person.” He finally looks at me again. “I’m a terrible person and I’ve done terrible things and I’ll keep doing them, Ella.”

  No.

  He reaches for me again, his hand on the back of my neck. His eyes are pleading, but he hasn’t asked for anything. I hold my breath, hoping he does.

  “But I want you. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I’ve kept so many things from you, but I was only trying to protect you. And with Chelsea, and everything…”

  I tense at her name but stay silent, hoping.

  “You were right. I was trying to make you leave.” He swallows, steps closer, pressing his forehead to mine. “But this week has been shitty and there haven’t been any cookies and…”

  I can’t help it. I breathe out a little laugh, my stomach unknotting itself.

  “And there hasn’t been anyone else. And there won’t be. Not again. Not if you…not if you want to try this again.”

  I swallow, wrap my arm around his back and his eyes close, relief visible on his perfect face. “You’ll tell me everything?”

  He nods, eyes still closed. “Yes.”

  “And you’ll trust me?”

  He nods again.

  “I won’t hurt you, Mavy,” I whisper, pressing my head against his chest. “I won’t hurt you with your secrets.” I sag against him as he wraps both arms around me. “You never hurt me with mine. You’re safe, you know?” I realize I’m talking to myself, too. “We’re safe.”

  He kisses the top of my head. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “And as long as you don’t run off with another man again, everyone else is safe from me, too.”

  I laugh despite myself, and he does, too, some of our anger thawing.

  “I’m so sorry, Ella. But I’m gonna grow the fuck up, okay? I’m gonna grow up, and I’m taking you with me, kid.”

  I don’t wanna go anywhere you’re not going, even if you take me straight to hell.

  “You fucked your sister?”

  “Yes.”

  “You regret it?”

  “Obviously.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  He’s silent for a moment, as if he’s considering the question. Then he says, “You wanna know how fucked up I am?”

  I nod, holding my breath.

  “Here’s the truth: I would do it again because I needed to. I needed a distraction, and she was it.”

  I look down at his hands on my bare feet, stroking the arch of my foot with his thumb.

  “She was…” he trails off and I can’t look up. I don’t want to see him thinking about it. About her.

  Sid. Lucifer’s wife. He slept with her. His sister. There are other things here I need to consider. Other, more important things that are far more sinister than a mistaken incest fuck, but… I think about Lucifer’s eyes on Sid. His arm wrapped possessively around her shoulder when we met at the bar. I think about him and Maverick arguing. How it gave Sid the motivation to say Fuck it, and get up and dance. I think about the circles under her eyes.

  Think about what Maverick was just saying. That she’s unhappy. Just like Maverick’s mother. Just like all the women in the 6. His own sister, Brooklin, he said her name was, was kicked out of his house for sleeping with Atlas. Maverick told me he hated that she was with that man from the bar, Jeremiah Rain, who apparently runs some sort of crime syndicate.

  But he thought Jeremiah might be less dangerous than the 6. Which is saying something, considering Jeremiah seemed like a complete psychopath in the few minutes I endured his company. Not only that, but he was a hot psychopath.

  I let him kiss me.

  And the 6… I don’t really want to think about that. I don’t really know how to wrap my head around an occult society that pulls the strings of politicians and pedophiles alike.

  But none of that is really in my brain at the moment, in Maverick’s bed. In the past hour he’s explained all of this to me up here, I can’t stop thinking about him and…Sid.

  “She was everything I wanted,” he admits out loud.

  I tense, fisting the dark grey sheets in my hand, not moving from my spot against the pillows at my back. The sun is streaming into his room, from the wall of windows behind the couch and the small table in his bedroom, the decanter of amber liquid seeming to glow from the sun.

  “And I don’t mean that I loved her,” he explains, but I know it’s not from my reaction. He sounds as if he’s articulating this for the first time. “It’s just…she was dirty.”

  I look up, and finally meet his gaze. In the winter sun pouring into this room, his eyes look so light, such a pale blue they’re almost white. I can’t look away from him.

  “She was dirty and wrong, and I’m dirty and wrong. I knew she’d let me do the things I wanted to do, and I wouldn’t feel guilty about it.”

  “Did you hit her?” I don’t know why I ask it, and as soon as I do, my face warms, especially as his lips tilt into a smirk.

  He keeps rubbing my feet and shakes his head. “No. I told you, I only did that with you.”

  “Then what was it? What did you do with her?” I think about the girl in here, think about what he was going to do with her.

  He stops his gentle massage on my foot, his other hand behind his head. His abs are pulled taut as he arches his neck back, stretching. And wincing. The cut I gave him has healed into a jagged red line.

  I think about the wounds on his back. We haven’t gotten there yet.

  He blows out a breath and meets my gaze again. “We don’t have to talk about this, Ella.”

  “It’s okay,” I assure him. “After this, I’ll tell you all about the dirty things Con and I did in that Guinea pig shed—”

  He pinches the bottom of my foot. “I told you not to talk about him.”

  “This doesn’t seem fair.”

  He rolls his eyes. “You were the one pressing the issue.”

  True. I clear my throat, trying to get back on track. To move on. “So your father just…let Lucifer’s father sell Sid?”

  He can’t meet my gaze as he answers, “Yeah.”

  “But you’re still…one of them?” Unsaints. The 6. Strange names I don’t feel comfortable speaking yet.

  His eyes turn angry as he looks up at me from his lashes. “I told you. I can’t leave. You have to understand that.”

  “But Lucifer killed his father, you said—”

  He laughs. “You say it so calmly, Ella. I don’t think you really understand this.” He runs his hand through his hair. “Not that I expected you would,” he mutters under his breath.

  I sit up straighter, folding my arms. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  He snorts. �
��Don’t be stupid, Ella. It’s hard for even me to wrap my head around, and I was born into it. You’ve known about it for a night.” He sighs, resting his head against his headboard, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s all so fucked. I don’t even know the worst of my father’s crimes.”

  “The woman in the basement,” I press, “Ria.”

  He closes his eyes, his hand on my foot tense.

  “Where is she?”

  “I wish I knew.” He furrows his brow, eyes still closed. “Actually, no. I’m glad I don’t.”

  “What’s going to happen to her?” My words are quiet even though I don’t feel afraid. He’s right. This is all so…unbelievable. A cult worth billions, and this beautiful, broken boy is part of it? I guess that last part is the most believable of all of it.

  His voice is hoarse when he answers me, “I don’t know.”

  “And me?” I press. “What’s going to happen when this ends?”

  His eyes snap open and he dips his chin to stare at me. “You’re mine.”

  I shrug. “For now.”

  He moves so fast I don’t have time to react when he slides me down so I’m lying on my back, pinning me in with his hands on either side of my head, his chest brushing against mine as he leans down to speak over my mouth.

  “Sorry, kid,” he says, not sounding at all sorry, “you’re in this now, too. I can’t ever let you go.”

  I smirk up at him. “I’m only nineteen,” I tease him, my fingers skimming the hard muscles of his shoulders. “I’m just a kid. What if I want out? I barely know you.”

  His eyes darken. “Should’ve thought about that before you let me fuck you in the woods and treat you like the little whore that you are.” He presses his hips against me, and I suck in a breath, wanting him inside of me.

  “You treat every girl you fuck like a little whore?”

  He swallows. “Yeah, but it’s different.”

  I trail a finger down over his arm, over his tattoos. “How so?”

  “I never want them again.” He buries his face in my neck, kissing and sucking me. I close my eyes and arch my back. “But you… Ella... I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”

  “Not even Sid?”

  His teeth sink deeper into my neck and I cry out, my nails digging into his back. He gasps, his mouth coming off of me as he moves his head to stare down at me. “We’re not talking about Sid right now.”

  “I want to.” I let my fingers skim over his wounds, the flesh still rough under my fingertips. And it feels like…there are more wounds. Suddenly, I want to see it all. I want to look again, but I know he won’t let me up right now.

  If I keep talking about his sister, though, maybe he’ll get up.

  I don’t know why I find it so fascinating, knowing this perverse part of him. But I do. “Is she why you hurt yourself?” It’s a guess, but I did a search. Saw what marks from a whip look like, what they can do to someone’s back.

  That’s what these look like.

  He presses his brow to mine. “We’re not talking about that. Or her.”

  “You feel bad for fucking her, Mavy?”

  “Ella.”

  But I feel it, his cock growing harder against me. “Are you ever jealous? Jealous your brother got a dirty little whore, and you had to let her go? Jealous about what they might be doing, even now?”

  “Stop,” he whispers against my mouth, his eyes closed.

  “Are you mad she was your sister and not his?” I press, dragging my fingertips up and down his back lightly, feeling his muscles twitch. “You ever want to fuck her again, and not because she’s hot, but because she’s your sister and it makes you want her all the more?”

  “Ella, shut up.” But he’s breathing hard, his hands tightening in the sheets beside my head. I wrap my legs around him, needing him. Craving him and all of his demons.

  “What did she let you do to her, Maverick?” My lips brush his, and his eyes are still closed, his brow furrowed, as if he’s in pain. “Are you mad at Lucifer because he got to knock her up, and you didn’t—”

  His eyes fly open and he circles my throat with his hand, squeezing so hard I can’t breathe. “Shut up, Ella. Shut the fuck up.”

  I smirk at him, even though my eyes are watering as he reaches between us and yanks down the boxers of his that I’m wearing. He pulls his shorts down his hips, too, and I feel his cock, hard and thick, against my skin.

  He presses his lips to mine, loosening his hold on my throat as he bites me, sucking on my lower lip.

  “Did you want to?” I whisper, my hands going to his face. “Did you want to be the one to save her? You couldn’t save your real brother, so you wanted to be the one to come inside of her—”

  “You stupid girl.” He grabs my face, his fingers digging into my cheek so hard the skin scrapes against my molars. “You have no idea—”

  “Keep telling me your secrets, Maverick,” I interrupt, gripping his face how he’s gripping mine. “Tell me everything that makes you so sick in the head.”

  His jaw is clenched. I can see it and feel it, beneath my fingers digging into him. “You wanna know what makes me sick, Ella?” he taunts me, squeezing my lips together as he lifts my head up with his hand under my chin, pressing his brow to mine.

  I slowly nod my head, my face aching in his grip.

  “What makes me sick has nothing to do with her.” He smirks at me, his eyes boring into mine. “And it has everything to do with you, right now. Right now, I want to hurt you. I want to make you cry.” His grip tightens, as if he’s emphasizing his point. “I want you to scream at me, to tell me to stop as I fuck you with your face against the mattress. I want to hit you so hard, you can’t speak. I want to bruise you, Ella, and not just your body.” He kisses me violently, and I buck my hips, needing him, but he won’t give it to me, even though I know he’s as turned on as I am. “I want bruises on your face from my hands, and I want you to fight me back.”

  He reaches between us, guides himself into me, thrusting so hard, I feel pain before I feel the pleasure. He doesn’t let go of my face, doesn’t put my head down as he pumps into me slowly, but hard enough to make me bite the inside of my cheek.

  “I want you to fight me back, to cry, to make it very fucking clear you don’t want this.”

  My hands go to his chest, my breasts bouncing under his shirt as he slams into me again, jostling my entire body.

  “And what makes me sick in the head is that I’m not gonna stop.”

  I shove against him as he fucks me, a smile on his face at my futile attempts to get him off of me, even though I don’t want him to stop.

  I want this, too.

  I’m sick, too.

  “I’m not gonna stop, and you know what that is, don’t you?”

  He lets go of my face, then presses his palm against my cheek, turning my neck to the side as he fucks me, speaking into my ear. “That’s a crime, Ella. It’s a fucking felony, and I don’t care because you’re not gonna tell anyone.”

  He pulls out of me, flips me over and slides his arm under my hips, jerking them up so I’m on all fours.

  His chest is against my back as he keeps talking, but his fingers…they’re…there. Where I don’t want him.

  I tense, shaking my head and trying to push back against him. “No, Maverick, I told you—”

  “Yeah, I don’t give a fuck what you told me, Ella.” His thumb circles the tight opening and I bite my lip, still shaking my head, unmoving. Because he wouldn’t. But then he puts two fingers inside of my pussy, murmuring about how wet I am as he coats my wetness against my ass, helping his thumb get inside of me.

  “I don’t give a fuck and you’re not gonna say a word, Ella, and do you know why?” His thumb is inside of me and it burns.

  I close my eyes, every muscle of my body coiled with tension as he presses further into me. His lips graze my ear.

  “Answer me when I ask you a fucking question. Do you know why?”

  I swallow
past the dryness in my throat. “No, Maverick.”

  “Because you’re never fucking leaving me. It’s me and you, now, baby, and that means I can do whatever the fuck I want to you, whenever I want.” He pushes further into me, in and out. He bites the lobe of my ear and I hiss, but that momentary pain lets him slip another finger inside of me.

  “Maverick—”

  “Shh,” he says softly. “Just relax, okay, baby?” His tone is softer now, like he’s flipped a switch. I know it’s because he wants me to do what he wants, but even still, I do relax. “Relax, and it’ll only hurt a little.”

  I take a shaky breath in. Out.

  “Good girl,” he murmurs, his fingers moving slowly in and out of me. “You’re so good at this, Ella.”

  I force myself to unclench my jaw, my stomach, my thighs. I force myself to go nearly limp, but still hold my body up on all fours.

  “Every hole in your body is mine, Ella,” he whispers, kissing the side of my neck. “Every inch of you.” His chest is rising and falling rapidly against my back, his hard cock against my thigh as he moves his fingers faster.

  “You’re just for me.” His mouth finds my shoulder and he bites me gently. Then he pulls his fingers out, and something else, something much bigger, presses against me and I tense all over again.

  “No, no, no,” he scolds me. His hand finds my own, and he presses down on it, holding himself up but giving me comfort, too. “Relax for me, pretty girl.”

  Pretty girl.

  I wet my lips, try to do as he asks.

  “You’re doing so good.”

  He crowns me and I gasp, muscles locking all over again. He lets go of himself as he presses inside of me slowly with a groan, and his hand goes underneath me, his fingers on my clit.

  I relax again, press my head against the headboard as he circles me and slides himself further into me.

  “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re so beautiful, you know that?” He lips move against my shoulder and I relax more, whimpering.

  “God, those little noises you make.” He groans again, and then he’s all the way in and I bite my lip, but a gasp still comes out of my mouth, a nearly strangled sound. His hand moves from my hand to my throat. He uses me as leverage, thrusting himself in and out of me, and even those he’s dropped his hand from my clit to keep himself balanced, it feels good.