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.

own arousal, 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

bed. He sips his wine again, then offers it to me. Smooth and dark and heady, it caresses my

goblet back from me, then looking up, trails it, cool and smooth, over the line of my

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

sharp path over my breasts to a nipple, stiffening now

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,

his teeth, plucking and tugging, drawing out my flesh. His free

Kirstie. But then, 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 decide if I will let you

Oh, God…

Master… Please let me come. I’ve

but the fingers of his other hand still curl into my loins. He touches the pearl which dangles from the choker. “This… says that I get to decide when

knees threaten to buckle, and a hot trickle

he murmurs. “Close your eyes. Spread

reaching out to

me, he’s standing close, his body heat on my skin, my naked spine. His clothes brush

it 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

the kiss, but his grip on my shoulders tightens. “You may not move. I have

sharp enough for pain, and I jolt. “I can smell your

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

over my arms then moving over my breasts and down to my ribs. His palms caress me, but his thumbs dig in, the nails short and blunt, pressing at my skin, sending

“Ryan… Please…”

shoulders, pressing me forward and down. Losing my grip

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

knew you

No opening me. No gradual waking of the flesh. I was ready for him hours ago and now, as he fills my body with his, I yelp and cry and

… My Master…

… fucks me hard.

hair, pulling back my head, straining me against

flows, making a scalding fluid trail down my thighs. And now, the throbbing

may Come

out my rhapsody

climax, only just aware that Ryan has dropped down on top of me, arms clutched around my body as, grinding his hips against mine,

each through to the other, we lie, sated and

earlobe with his teeth. “I

*****

Christmas Eve

loaded with firewood. Stacking it by the hearth, he swipes off flakes of snow, which promptly thaw and puddle onto the tiles. “I reckon that’s a good two feet of snow that

inhales. “Are we snowed

to rub his face 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 in the house to see us through to the New

table, happily making Christmas tree ornaments. Mitch flips through a glossy magazine, admires the photo of a red dress, then rips out the page, folding the paper with practised ease into a multicoloured

so I hold my tongue. He sits at the back of the room, a whiskey glass in one hand, not drinking,