Page 6
Sweet Taste of Vengeance
R oom 512 seems to pulse with bass-heavy music, the sound muffled but insistent behind the heavy oak door. Another “private gathering” in the boys’ wing, technically against school rules but overlooked as long as nobody causes too much trouble. The rich kids of Shark Bay are experts at bending the rules without breaking them completely. The air feels electric tonight, charged with the kind of tension that only comes before something breaks irreparably.
I heard about the party during lunch—or rather, I made sure to overhear Max telling Dougie about it while I pretended to study nearby. Belle would be there with Nicolas, holding court among their loyal bitches. Perfect. I’ve been looking for an opportunity to put her in her place, and now it’s come up. And a drunken hookup with her boyfriend should be exactly what I need to knock her off her pedestal. After all, what better way to establish and hurt the enemy than by taking away the person closest to them?
I spent the afternoon watching Belle prep for her big night, noting how she changed outfits three times before settling on a designer minidress that probably cost more than most people’s rent. When she finally stepped into the shower, it was almost too easy to slip into the bathroom and adjust the water temperature of the wash basin, guaranteeing her perfect curls would fall flat in the humidity. A minor inconvenience that would keep her occupied just long enough.
Now I stand in front of my mirror, smoothing down my uniform skirt. I didn’t bother changing—the navy and gold will stand out among all the casual designer wear, a deliberate choice to draw attention. My black hair falls in perfect waves, lips painted a sharp crimson that matches the dangerous glint in my eyes. Everything has to be perfect tonight. Belle thinks she can break me with her little stunts? Time to show her what real manipulation looks like.
I twist Belle’s favorite gold bracelet between my fingers—the one I lifted from her desk during literature class when she was too busy whispering about me to notice. According to the engraving, it was a gift from Nicolas on their one-year anniversary. How touching. I’ll make sure to return it to him tonight, right after I mark him as one of my conquests.
The hallway outside 512 is already crowded with students clutching red cups, their voices a low murmur beneath the throbbing music. I catch Erik’s eye as he leans against the wall, but I don’t acknowledge him. I can’t afford any distractions tonight, not when I’m so close to taking Belle down. This isn’t about pleasure or connection. This is about power, about showing everyone at Shark Bay what happens when you try to play games with Luna Queen.
The room is crowded with familiar faces—the golden children of Shark Bay’s elite. Even amongst the casual alcohol consumption, they’re still prim and proper, gossiping behind their designer masks, their expensive whiskey glasses like shields between them and reality. No one knows how bad things can get when the money runs out. They’re caught in the illusion that every line is easily crossed, the veil drawn over their eyes so fine that they’re blind to the truth. But I see it. I see everything.
As expected, I spot Nicolas toward the center of the crowd. If Belle’s the school’s queen, he’s the king—until I dethrone them. That’s the plan, anyway. He’s holding court around his jock posse, a red cup in one hand and a phone in the other, no doubt wondering where Belle is.
“Have you seen Belle?” he asks his friend. His words slur slightly, but there’s something sharp in his eyes that makes me wonder how drunk he really is. A line of worry crosses his features as he slips the phone into his back pocket.
“No.” His friend shrugs. “But I can’t see Jessica either. Want me to text her?”
“Nah, it’s okay,” Nicolas replies with a pensive expression. He runs a hand through his perfectly-styled hair, messing it up in a way that makes him look more human, more vulnerable. The gesture reminds me of Alex, and for a moment, guilt threatens to surface. His brows furrow.
Perfect. My lips curve into a satisfied smile. Not because of the victory to come, but because the familiar rush of power chases away the unwanted memories. My plan is working.
With a tilt of my head, a tiny smirk, and a few gliding steps, I get close enough. Casually, I stop and brush a few errant strands of hair from his face, giving him a teasing smile as I grab his glass. It’s almost too easy.
“You look like you’ve lost something,” I say, my voice pitched low so only he can hear.
His brown eyes narrow in suspicion. “What’s it to you?”
“I just want to help you feel better.” I reach a hand out to rest on his. “Isn’t that what people do here?”
“Hmm.” He seems to consider this. His voice echoes, but the low light and loud music hide his words from anyone else. The haze of the booze seems to be dampening his senses, and for just a moment, I see what Belle sees in him. He’s tall and handsome, confident but not arrogant. And he cares for her.
Still, none of it makes a difference.
“So… can I help?” I shift closer until my leg is pressed against his. “Don’t worry. She won’t be here for a while.”
He frowns. “How do you know? Wait, what did you do?”
It’s amusing to watch him putting two and two together. He may be slow, but he’s not dumb. And even in his buzzed state, he realizes the gravity of the game we’re playing. My smirk grows larger, my victory in sight.
“Nothing yet,” I purr. “But I know that look. I saw you watching the video. More than once. You’re jealous of Dougie.”
“That’s bullshit,” he argues, but it falls flat.
“I bet Belle doesn’t let you do anything exciting to her. But I’m different. I crave it.”
There’s no point pretending to bat my eyelashes. My lips are already pressed to his, a challenge and a promise of a thrill. He pulls back, assessing me again, really looking at me this time. What he sees must satisfy him, because in the next second, I’m against the wall, his hands skimming across my skin as he explores my body. I smile against his lips, reveling in my own secret.
His mouth is soft and warm, but his drunken kiss is demanding. He presses closer until there’s no space between us, until the tension of his need is the only thing keeping us from melting into each other. One hand tangles in my hair, pulling tight enough to send a shiver of pleasure down my spine.
“So, would you believe me if I told you I like it wild, and when things get out of control, I only get more turned on?”
He pauses, eyes flashing dark. With our eyes locked, he slips his fingers up my thigh, pressing against the warmth between my legs. It would be far too easy to let him take me here, out in the open for the entire party to see, but I’m not that crazy.
His touch burns, makes me want to arch into him, let his fingers slip beneath my underwear, and take me on the floor. An idea that surely brings out the bad girl in me. Still, I resist. I haven’t lost all my dignity yet.
“Bathroom?” I breathe, just loud enough for him to hear.
He nods, grabbing my wrist and pulling me through the crowd. Drunken voices blur into incoherent noise as we make our way to the other side of the room. I can feel eyes on us, the whispers following. While I can ignore them, I know that Belle won’t. Nicolas turns his head, looking for an exit, and I grab his hand, leading the way, his palm warm in mine.
As soon as the bathroom door closes, his lips find mine again, sending a wave of heat flooding through me. Every touch burns through the fog, clearing my head. He pushes me against the door, his hips grinding against mine. I reach between us, tugging the hem of his pants. With deft fingers, I unzip his fly, his rock-hard cock straining against the fabric. I slide my fingers over his silky-smooth shaft, feeling his pulse race. I grip tighter, aching to feel more.
“Don’t hold back,” I say as I gently squeeze his shaft, then pull my lips back just enough to lightly graze him.
A low growl reverberates against my chest, making my heart race faster. He tugs at the strap of my shirt, pushing it down to reveal my breasts. In one fluid motion, he reaches down and pulls up my miniskirt, his thumb slipping beneath the thin fabric of my panties and stroking. I close my eyes, letting the sensations take over as he rubs against my clit. My breath catches as he continues working his way down until his finger sinks into my wet pussy. I can’t help the moan that escapes as he thrusts into me. God, he feels so damn good. I buck against him, desperate for more.
He adds another finger, pumping and stretching. His other hand slides down to my ass, gripping firmly as he angles me deeper into him. Pleasure builds with each movement. I dig my nails into his shoulder, arching against him as he pounds harder. The pleasure, the intensity, is intoxicating.
His warm breath washes over me. “We shouldn’t do this.”
“So, stop.” I meet his eyes. “But then, you won’t have this chance again. Take it.”
Something in his gaze shifts, some shadowy aspect I didn’t notice before, then the next moment, he lifts me into the air, pushing my back against the wall, and without hesitation, his cock enters me. A brief wave of discomfort overshadows the pleasure, then suddenly, all I feel is desire. The need to have him move within me is all I can focus on. “God, Belle, you’re so fucking wet.”
Her name sends a shockwave through me. Is he doing it on purpose, or is he more drunk than I thought? Does it really matter?
“Do you like that?”
He presses me to the wall, driving his cock deeper. A low moan escapes my lips as he grinds against me, the pressure building. His stubble scratches against my cheek as he leans in and kisses me hard.
It’s too much, too fast, and I find myself pushing him away. “Get on your knees,” I say as he whimpers in protest, but quickly settles onto the white-tiled floor.
Leaning against the door, my skirt falls to pool at my feet. Nicolas wastes no time positioning himself between my legs, his hands trailing over the sensitive skin. Teasing me almost.
I gasp as he parts me and his tongue grazes my inner thigh, drawing a quick shudder.
“Tell me what you want, Belle. Do you want me to lick you here?” He drags his tongue across the crease of my thigh and down to my knee.
All I can manage is a frantic moan. He circles his tongue around my clit, again and again, until I’m writhing and grinding against his face, begging for release.
“My turn again,” he growls, grabbing his cock and stroking himself a few times. “How do you want it?”
I swallow hard, heat flaming my skin. Everything , I want to say. I want him to fuck me until I can’t think, until nothing else exists. I reach down, sinking my fingers into his soft hair as he moves even closer, pressing against my clit, bringing me dangerously close.
“Where do you want me?”
“Inside me,” I moan and lift my right leg ever so slightly. His hard cock slides between the lips of my soaked pussy, his tip teasing my entrance. Suddenly, there’s a click at the doorknob, turning slowly. I grab on to Nicolas, making sure he doesn’t pull out. Whoever’s about to enter, I want them to see the full picture.
Nicolas’s eyes widen and he tries to push me away, but I’m holding on to him like a parasite. My arms are wrapped around his neck and my legs hooked around his waist. His cock is too deep inside me for him to be able to pull out before the door opens completely.
Fuck. I really hope it’s Belle. And when the wooden door finally cracks open, revealing her surprised expression as she takes in the sight of me, in the bathroom with her boyfriend half-naked and already balls-deep in my dripping pussy, my heart will sing. It’s everything I’d hoped for and more.
The bathroom door opens with a soft click, and Belle’s silhouette appears in the doorway. Her designer dress—the one she spent hours choosing—is slightly wrinkled from rushing here, her curls already starting to frizz in the humidity. Just as I planned. The look on her face as she takes in the scene before her is everything I’ve dreamed of: shock and betrayal.
“Belle,” I say, grinning mischievously. “I finally understand why you’re so crazy about him. This feels amazing.” The words taste like victory on my tongue, sweeter than any cocktail I’ve ever had.
Her jaw drops open. “What… how dare you. Get the fuck off him!” she screeches, cheeks tinting a blotchy red. “Nicolas, what are you doing with this?—”
I don’t give her the time to finish, untangling myself from her man. “Well, you caught us.” I grin. “I think we’re done here.”
My inner walls spasm as I release him; he’s soaked in my cum. My thighs are sticky and so are my lips. We stand for a second, daring each other to speak. The shock immediately sobers up Nicolas. He swallows hard.
“Belle, I can explain—” he starts, but Belle cuts him off with a sharp gasp.
She storms toward me, ignoring him completely. But I’m one step ahead. I push past her and practically run away, leaving the two of them to sort things out and my panties behind to add another layer to their pain. Sweet taste of revenge.
With everyone distracted, I weave through the crowd, spotting my exit. All I have to do is slip outside and escape the oppressive air of the party. I can feel my body relaxing, all the tension drained away. A satisfied smile plays at the corner of my mouth. Belle’s reputation might survive the fallout, but Nicolas isn’t in any position to walk away unscathed. Even if he tries to defend himself, who’s going to believe the words of a cheater over those of the pretty, perfect queen?
I lean against the stone rail overlooking the ocean and take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. The crisp, salty air feels cool against my flushed skin, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore is soothing. It’s the perfect way to end a satisfying night.
The footsteps barely register above the roar of the crashing surf, but then the click of dress shoes brings me back to reality. Heart racing, I turn to see Erik leaning against the doorway, watching me intently.
“That was quite the performance,” he says, the hint of a smirk on his lips. “Though I have to wonder if you really thought through what happens after the curtain falls.”
I shrug, turning back to the water. “It’s all a game, isn’t it?”
He steps forward, cocking his head slightly to one side. “Not like you play it. Most people wouldn’t dare fuck their enemy’s boyfriend under their noses.”
I laugh, tossing my hair back over my shoulder. “Most people wouldn’t get caught. Trust me, Belle deserved worse. But I’m more interested in how you’re going to play.”
“Don’t worry.” He looks over the rails at the dark water below. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
His tone is light, but I can hear the challenge beneath. My gut tells me he’s more dangerous than he seems, but I can’t resist the temptation to push. If this really is a game, I’m not about to let him win.
I step closer, closing the space between us until our bodies are almost touching. “So, is that an offer or a threat?” I ask, my voice low and seductive.
He raises an eyebrow and shakes his head. “If you seriously think I’m going to touch you minutes after you had someone else’s cock inside you, you’re even more twisted than I thought.” His words cut deeper than they should, probably because they’re the first honest ones I’ve heard all night. In his eyes, I see something I’ve been trying to avoid in my own reflection—the cost of playing these games.
Disappointment flashes through me, and I fight the urge to step back, giving him space. My pride won’t let me admit it, but I’m intrigued by him, even after the way he talks to me. I want the taste of victory, the sweet taste of satisfaction. I want him in a way I can’t explain. It’s like he’s the cherry I want on top of my very delicious cake.
“I’ll see you around, Erik,” I say with a small smile. “Who knows, maybe next time, it will be your cock inside my pussy.” The crude words feel like armor, protecting me from the truth in his gaze.
Before he can respond, I turn and walk away, the ocean breeze washing over me. Belle and Nicolas can have their own parties, their popularity, and their empire. None of it matters to me. All I care about is getting back at anyone who hurts or threatens me, and for now, there’s no one left. This is a well-deserved victory, and I’m determined to enjoy it. If only for a night.