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.

Ryan watches in silence as I hook fingers into

He sips his wine again, then offers it to me. Smooth and dark and heady, it caresses my tongue and throat as I swallow, then pools warm in my

from me, then looking up, trails it, cool and smooth, over the line of my chin and neck. My skin prickles and my pulse begins to

glass over my chest, then replacing it with a fingernail, descends through the

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

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

me with his teeth, plucking and tugging, drawing out my flesh. His free hand glides south, fingertips sliding through the dark

from his chest. “Already wet for me, Kirstie. But then, I think you have been wet for much of the day. That’s very good. I like that. It makes

Oh, God…

Master… Please let me come. I’ve

into my loins. He touches the pearl which dangles from the choker. “This… says

a hot trickle makes its way

the bed,” he murmurs. “Close your eyes. Spread your arms. Hold

turn, reaching out to grip the

heat on my skin, my naked spine. His clothes brush against me, the woollen

with a twist, he pins it up. Laying hands on my shoulders, his breath washes over me, laving me in his heat. I quiver at the softness of his lips brushing over me, then the

but his grip on my shoulders tightens. “You may

pain, and I jolt. “I can smell your arousal.

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

hands follow, palming and smoothing 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

“Ryan… Please…”

he pushes me, flat-handed, between the shoulders, pressing me forward and down. Losing my

forcing my feet apart. At the rasping of a zipper, my cunt goes into melt-down and

knew you were

ready for him hours ago and now, as he fills my

… My Master…

… fucks me hard.

head, straining me against the other hand planted

a scalding fluid trail down

Come

I ricochet into orgasm, screaming out my rhapsody as repeatedly and again, Ryan sheathes

writhing, I pulse and jerk and quiver my way through climax, only just aware that Ryan has dropped down on top of me, arms clutched around my body as, grinding his hips

crescendo, each through to the

with his teeth. “I

*****

Christmas Eve

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 dropped

me, Ryan inhales. “Are we

at the heap of dogs lolling in front of the flames. “Budge up you lot.” Grumbling, they shift to make room for him. Scruffy yaps protest. Michael grins, bending down 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 Year. No-one’s going to

flips through a glossy magazine,

to mention Klempner’s arrival or discuss where he might have been, so I hold my