Page 54 of The Revenge

Even though I’ve stood here watching the whole process, she doesn’t look like she’s wearing that much make-up. The bruises on her face have faded the most, and while she decided to put something over them before we left campus, they’ve never truly been hidden. Now, it’s almost impossible to see them.

The red line around her neck is fading but still visible. Instead of making any effort to cover it, she puts the make-up down and stands. Still pretending like I’m not here, she walks back to where she left the dress hanging up and takes it off the hanger.

As we left campus earlier, I called ahead to ensure half of my closet would be filled with a suitable selection of garments and shoes. Clothing I will also ensure is delivered to her home when she leaves. Whether she chooses to wear them, sell them, or donate them is up to her.

While she was bathing, I inspected the selection and was pleased to discover that my instructions were followed sufficiently.

People who claim your appearance and how you present yourself isn’t important are always the ones who make the least amount of effort with that aspect of themselves. The truth, even if they’re unwilling to admit it, is that it’s always the first thing you’re judged on. I’m sure there’s a time and a place for thethingsin Victoria’s suitcases, but that isn’t in this house.

I’ve fucked many women, but I’ve never brought a single one of them home. And of those that I have fucked, I haven’t called any of them my girlfriend.

With the way my future has been planned out, my parents would never expect me to bring a girl home. Which meant also ensuring there was a very expensive diamond ring waiting for me with the doorman.

Whether she picked that dress at random, or it was the one she liked the most, it’s also the one that I was drawn to. The two layers of fabric slide down her body like liquid.

The dress is modest. Something that my mother will approve of.

Or one sheshouldapprove of…

There’s a second layer to the dress; delicate mesh with embroidered flowers and sparkling jewels in the same blue as the silky fabric beneath it. A layer that barely hides Victoria’s hard nipples.

Victoria walks over to the floor-to-ceiling display of shoes and plucks a pair off the shelf. She bends over to set them on the floor, causing fabric to stretch across her ass as she puts them on. Then she finally turns to face me.

Once again, I realize how much I continue to underestimate Victoria Reynolds.

Even with her blue hair, all dressed up like this, there’s something quite extraordinary about her.

“Shall we get this over and done with, or do you need to go deal with that first?” Her gaze drops to my erection.

Two can play this game.

I walk over to her, stopping when we’re close enough that that my erection is almost touching her. I lean forward to bring my mouth close to her ear, my hard dick pushing up into her.

“By the time we get downstairs, this will be gone. But I hope that thong you chose to wear works its way between the lips of your pussy, so that every time that you move, it rubs against your clit, and then all you can think of is how you could have simply bent over, clutched the edge of that dressing table, and with your dress around your waist and your thong pulled to the side, I could have buried my cock deep into your pussy and fucked you so good to work up an appetite for the dinner you’ll be eating.”

Pulling back quickly, I’m able to catch Victoria licking her lips.

With her eyes locked on me, she starts to raise the bottom of her dress. Then she quickly pulls her thong down her legs, stepping out of it before she picks it up. She straightens, tossing the underwear at me, which I catch at the last second.

“I can’t say I’ve ever had a problem with a thong riding up and making me want to come—that sounds more like a you problem than a me problem—but thanks for the warning. Crisis averted.”

And without stopping to put different panties on, she walks out of the dressing room.

I can’t stop my smirk as I toss the thong over onto the dresser.

Well played, Victoria Reynolds.

XXI

Tori

When I was growing up, I assumed we were rich. Then after we lost everything, I knew we were poor. But it wasn’t until I went to James Keyingham University that I truly understood that what I considered rich wasn’t even close.

Everything in the Keyingham’s two-story penthouse across from Central Park has been put there for a very specific reason. I’m not an art expert, but I can tell that the paintings on the wall, and the pieces of art in strategic places around each room are originals.

Over the last few months, I’ve seen enough of Syn’s wardrobe to know that almost everything is tailor made for him, and if that’s the case with his clothes, I’m willing to bet money I don’t have that if any piece of furniture came from a store, it was the kind where they don’t put the prices tags on anything.

Unlike the traditional feel of Denali House, the modern theme of the entrance hall and Syn’s bedroom extends throughout the house. Walls, carpets, and soft furnishings are all pale and muted in color. Although I’ve not examined everything closely, I can’t see any scratch, scuff, or sign of general wear or tear on any of the furniture, like I would on the antique pieces that fill Denali House.

---