Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Ryan takes the wineglass from my fingers, setting it down on the table. There’s that look in his eye. “Time to retire, I think.”

I take a shot at demure… “I think so, yes.” … But as his nostrils flare, realise I have failed miserably.

He presses against my thigh, oh, so lightly… And my already warm pussy purrs. Several hours of waiting and the promise of the kind of incandescent sex Ryan offers, have me teetering on the brink.

Which was of course entirely his intention with the day’s earlier performance.

“We’re going to bed,” announces Ryan. “It’s been a long day for us.”

Voices call around us. Heads nod.

“Of course. Goodnight.”

“See you in the morning.”

“Sleep well.”

I don’t believe I’ll be sleeping for a while yet.

As we exit, Michael, eyes creasing, waves towards the tray of drinks on the sideboard. “Take a bottle up with you and a couple of glasses.”

Ryan chooses a bottle of Rioja. “Very civilised of him,” he murmurs as we make our way up the stairs.

In the bedroom, he closes the door, pushing until the lock clicks. He runs eyes over me. “You may undress, Kirstie.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. Even as I tug the thick sweater off over my head and my skin gooses, my neck and face are warm.

Ryan makes no attempt to remove his own clothes. Instead, he adds a couple of logs to the fire, using bellows and a poker to rouse the flames, then he turns off the ceiling light, leaving us bathed in the firelight.

He pours wine red as a holly berry into the two glasses then, resting a hip on the end of the bed, sips from one of the glasses, watching as I undress. Fire flickers and dances over the slight wave of his hair, raising highlights in amber and gold. His face is calm, almost tranquil, but his chocolate eyes too, reflect the flames which glimmer against the dark centres.

My beautiful Lover. My Dom.

My Master.

What do I feel for him?

Arousal?

Desire?

Lust?

Love?

I shimmy out of my jeans, then kick off thick furry socks. My bra, black satin and lace, I chose because I know Ryan likes the style, which enhances my not-overgenerous breasts.

I chose because I know he likes them. Ryan watches in silence as I hook fingers into the side laces, sliding them down over thighs and calves to leave myself naked save the velvet choker at my neck; his gift to me, the symbol

crooks a finger, beckoning me. Already, my heart beats faster. Moving closer, I stand over him where he sits on the end of the bed. He sips his wine again, then offers it to me. Smooth and

trails it, cool and smooth, over the line of

collar bone, he runs the glass over my chest, then replacing it with a fingernail, descends through the valley of

strays further, tracing a tight, sharp path over my breasts to a nipple, stiffening now in a combination of cool air and

pauses, sips more wine, swishing it around his mouth, then setting the glass down, leans in, wrapping his lips around the nipple. My breath jolts at the hot-flesh-chill-wine on my skin. As he cups the breast with a palm, suckling gently, the nipple puckers, hardening further and I hiss

and tugging, drawing out my flesh. His free hand glides south, fingertips sliding through the

I think you have been wet for much of the day. That’s very good. I like that. It makes it easier for me to

Oh, God…

me come. I’ve been waiting for

loins. He touches the pearl which dangles from the choker. “This… says that I get to decide

and a hot trickle makes its way

he murmurs. “Close your eyes. Spread your arms. Hold

reaching out to

my skin, my naked spine. His clothes brush against me, the woollen fibres of

in, raising it and exposing my neck. Then with a twist, he pins it up. Laying hands on my shoulders, his breath washes over me, laving me in his

to return the kiss, but his grip on my shoulders tightens. “You

and I jolt. “I can smell your arousal. I know you

moves down from the nape of my neck to the top of my spine;

His palms caress me, but

“Ryan… Please…”

well.” Without warning, he pushes me, flat-handed, between the shoulders, pressing me forward and down.

clutch me at the hips, pulling my ass up. In the same movement, boots shove between my ankles, forcing my feet apart. At the rasping of a

I knew you

and now, as

… My Master…

… fucks me hard.

knots into my hair, pulling back my head, straining

wells and flows, making a scalding fluid trail down my thighs. And now, the throbbing comes, the start of

may Come for

into orgasm, screaming out my rhapsody as repeatedly and again,

climax, only just aware that Ryan has dropped down on top of me, arms clutched around my

our heartbeats banging a joint crescendo, each

my earlobe with his teeth. “I call that

*****

Christmas Eve

strides in, muffled up in a thick roll-neck sweater and a scarf, loaded with firewood. Stacking it by the hearth, he swipes off flakes of

inhales. “Are

then, blowing into his palms, holds them over the fire. “… But the snowplough will be along in a while. And in any case, when James stocked up the kitchen, I think he was planning for the arrival of the Mongol hordes. There’s enough

tree ornaments. Mitch flips through a glossy magazine, admires the photo of a red dress, then

have been, so I hold my tongue. He sits at the back of the room,