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.

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 myself naked save the velvet choker at my neck; his gift to me, the symbol of what binds

Already, my heart beats faster. Moving closer, I stand over him where he sits on the end of the bed. He sips his wine

and smooth, over the line of my

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

over my breasts to a nipple, stiffening now in a combination of

at the hot-flesh-chill-wine on

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

for me, Kirstie. But then, I think you have been wet for much of the day. That’s very

Oh, God…

me come. I’ve

again. “We’ll see.” Rising, he releases my breast, but the fingers of his other hand still curl into my loins.

to buckle, and a hot trickle makes its way down inside

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

turn, reaching out to

naked spine. His clothes brush against me, the woollen

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 me in his heat. I quiver at the softness of his lips brushing over

pussy purrs then liquifies. I semi-turn, wanting to return the kiss, but his grip on my

bite on my neck sharp enough for pain, and I jolt. “I can smell your arousal. I know you are growing

my neck to the top of my spine;

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 blunt, pressing at

“Ryan… Please…”

down. Losing my grip on the bedposts, I all but collapse, face-down and gasping, onto

behind, hands 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 zipper, my cunt goes into melt-down and I cry out as he

knew

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

… My Master…

… fucks me hard.

hand knots into my hair, pulling back my head, straining

a scalding fluid trail down my thighs. And

Come

ricochet into orgasm, screaming out my rhapsody

quiver my way through climax, only just aware that Ryan has dropped down

a joint crescendo, each through to the

his teeth. “I call that

*****

Christmas Eve

firewood. Stacking it by the hearth, he swipes off flakes

Ryan inhales. “Are we

bending down to rub his face then, blowing into his palms, holds them over the fire. “… But the snowplough will be along

flips through a glossy

has appeared overnight. No-one seems inclined to mention Klempner’s arrival or discuss where he might have been, so I hold my tongue. He sits at the back of the room, a whiskey glass in one hand, not