“Show him.”
She opened her mouth, cum dribbling out of it down her chin.
“Good slut. Now lick it up and swallow.”
Scarlett did as she was told whilst my hand went to her throat, holding it as an anchor whilst I continued to fuck her.
“Make him come, lamb, I want to see him flooding your pussy,” Prescott told her as he sat back and watched the show now he was spent.
Scarlett wrapped her hand around mine on her throat and leant into me. I held closer with my arm wrapped around her middle.
“You hear that, slut? Pres wants to watch me come inside you. Do you want that? Want my cum running down your fucking thighs?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
“Dirty, dirty little whore. My little bitch is in heat, isn’t she?”
She whimpered but nodded against my shoulder.
“Good thing I’m about to feed your pussy then, isn’t it?”
My hand squeezed around her throat as I felt it building. I fucked her harder, making her cry out from the intense pace. Then I was groaning in her ear as I erupted in her wet little pussy, coating her insides and making her squirm in my hold.
We stayed that way for a long moment after I was spent. Then I lowered Scarlett back to her hands and knees, leaning over her as I forced her to look at Mason again.
“There’s something you need to know, little Scar,” I whispered in her ear. “And you’re not going to like it… but it’s time. The truth needs to come out.”
Scarlett tensed in my hold as I continued to whisper to her, watching Mason’s grim expression to see what he thought of our little display. He had no idea what I was about to unleash on him. This was my final hurrah. My fucking ace. It would hurt Scarlett. I knew that, but my need to get revenge on this sick fuck was far more important.
She would forgive me… but she wouldn’t be forgiving Mason for it.
Not by a long shot.
He was about to find out the reason I called her my little warrior. And why he should have never messed with my woman in the first place.
Eight
Scarlett
I stared at Mason, my entire world falling to fucking pieces as West whispered the dreaded words I never wanted to hear in my ear.
“Mason killed Lylah. He killed your mother on Stuart’s orders. She was making too much noise over your disappearance. It was all over the news. She kept harassing the police to do more. She wouldn’t take it lying down, Scar. She was determined to get you back because she loved you so much. You were everything to her. And Stuart couldn’t let that stand when he realised you couldn’t remember what happened that night. When he kept you to punish us.”
A tear leaked out of my eye. This time it was one of grief and not pleasure.
“He had Mason kill her and stage it as a break-in gone wrong. He stabbed her to death, Scar. It was brutal and bloody. It’s an unsolved killing because that fuck was good at covering his tracks, but we knew. We fucking knew it had to be Stuart’s doing. When we found out Mason had done it on Stuart’s orders, that he was the one who killed her, we were fucking livid. But we couldn’t touch him because of his fucking daddy.”
Mason had killed my mother. He’d killed my fucking mother. Rage, hurt, and pain echoed around the void in my chest where she should be.
“I’m sorry, my little Scar. I’m sorry you have to find out this way, but I’m done hiding the truth from you. Done with secrets. You need to know why we hate him so much. Why we wish he was fucking dead.”
They’d asked me to kill him once. Or, at least, they made me think I was killing him. And now? Now I wanted to rip his fucking face off. I wanted to tear him to pieces. The red mist descended. I did nothing to stop it. Nothing at all.
“Let me up.”
West moved off me and the table without hesitation. He tucked himself away as I crawled off the table. I could feel his cum leaking out of me, but I literally did not give two shits about it. Pulling my clothes back on, I zipped up my jeans and stared at West. His expression almost decimated me. As if his words hadn’t already done the trick. But I wasn’t angry with him. No, I was fucking livid at Mason.
“Give me your knife.”
“Little Scar.”
“Thank you for telling me. Now give me the knife and don’t get in my way.”
West slid it from his pocket. I knew he would have it on him. He never went anywhere without it. I put my hand out. He placed it in my palm but didn’t let it go.
“You’re not angry with me, are you?”
I shook my head, then I reached out with my other hand and ran my fingers down his chest.