Home > Books > Cataclysm (Four Horsemen #4)(102)

Cataclysm (Four Horsemen #4)(102)

Author:Sarah Bailey

Letting go of her mouth, I pulled her against me, our chest brushing together as I thrust up into her. I buried my face in her neck as she panted out her pleasure, her nails digging into my shoulders.

“I love you, little wisp. You have my heart. You have it all. I will never belong to anyone but you.”

She shifted, then she was biting down on my earlobe, making me grunt. She sucked it into her mouth to soothe away the sting. I shuddered, holding back the need to come inside her. The woman had just discovered what would make me detonate on her within minutes. I dug my fingers harder into her skin, locking her in place as I continued to thrust up into her.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

“I love you too,” she murmured, pressing kisses down the side of my neck.

It was then I understood what it meant to be destined for each other. What it truly felt like to know you had found the person you’d spend eternity with. Who embraced everything you were and gave you what you needed without hesitation. Scarlett was my destiny. She was our fate. Our birth wasn’t a coincidence, it was a sign we belonged with each other. People had tried to tear us apart. They hadn’t succeeded. They had only strengthened our bond because we’d fought for it. We’d jumped through so many hoops to come to this moment. And it was everything.

She was everything.

“Drake, harder, please… I need it.”

I encouraged her to get off me, turned her around and made her grab hold of the sides of the tub. Getting up on my knees, I pressed inside her tight little pussy once more, holding onto her hips as leverage before I pounded into her. Scarlett cried out, her fingers whitening around the tub. Then one of her hands left it and snaked between her legs. She stroked herself, letting me fuck her until she exploded around me. Her garbled cries were music to my ears.

“That’s it, good girl, come over my dick.”

“Drake.”

“That’s not my name here, is it?”

She tipped her head back.

“No… you’re my Death.”

My hands tightened around her hips.

“Good girl.”

She arched her back and shuddered against me. Then she was slumping down, only holding herself up by one hand. Letting go of her hip, I stroked a hand down her back, wanting to soothe her as she came down.

“I think one of you needs to join them,” came Prescott’s voice.

My head turned, finally looking at the three of them leaning against the sink counter. Their eyes were fixed on us. The blood had got on the floor, soaking the white tiles. It was quite the fucking sight, seeing this perfectly pristine bathroom marred by red. I couldn’t help smiling. It was exactly as I had envisioned it when I’d come in here. I wanted to paint it red.

“You want us to fuck her in the blood too?” Francis asked, raising her eyebrow.

Prescott looked down at where Francis was clearly sporting an erection.

“I think that says you wouldn’t be averse to it.”

Francis shifted, his cheeks going red. Then he waved at West.

“He’s more into blood than I am with all his knife shit.”

West was too busy watching Scarlett with a dark gleam in his amber eyes to respond to Francis’ dig.

“Both of you can join in.”

The next thing I knew, West was pulling off his clothes, clearly unperplexed about giving it to Scarlett in blood. Francis stared at him for a long moment.

“Well, shit.”

Then he was tugging his clothes off too. Scarlett’s head raised, her eyes widening at the sight of them stripping off. Her gaze went to Prescott who hadn’t moved to do a thing.

“If they’re going to join us, then you need to get naked too,” she said a moment later, giving him a significant look.

Prescott straightened, dropping his arms from his chest.

“Is that so?”

She smiled as she straightened and rested her back against my chest.

“Yeah, Pres… it’s all or nothing with us, remember?”

He nodded slowly. Then he was pulling his clothes off too.

I guessed Scarlett was right. It was all of us or nothing. We weren’t known for doing anything by halves. And fucking in blood? Well, that was going all the fucking way and then some.

Thirty Nine

Francis

West moved to the bath, placing himself on the edge of it before reaching down into the red liquid and coating his forearm in it. He stroked his palm up Scarlett’s body, cupping her breast to flick her nipple with his thumb.

“Look at you, little Scar, covered in the spoils of war,” he murmured.