Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Larry slices into something, chews, then says, “This is excellent. What am I eating here?”

James looks across to his plate. “Prune-stuffed pork. Regional speciality where I grew up, usually made for special occasions.” Larry’s brows arch.

Under the table, I become aware of a hand on my thigh. Ryan appears to be listening to the conversation, but ‘below stairs’ he eases between my knees, pushing them apart. Very quietly, he murmurs, “Open up.”

James and Larry are still talking. “Where was that? That you grew up, I mean?”

“Spain.”

“Really? What part?”

“Valencia Province. You know it?”

“Not well. I've visited Valencia city, but I didn't get further afield than that. So, you're Spanish?”

“My mother was Spanish. My father English.”

Ryan eases a finger down and in, tracing a line over my skin that makes my pussy warm and twitch. He speaks without moving his lips. “Wider.”

I’m trying to chew my food, but it’s not easy. Finger and thumb pluck at my panties. “Off.”

“Ryan…” My voice is a hiss.

“Off, I said.”

All eyes are on James and Larry. Nonetheless, I’m happy that, my face made-up, my flush is concealed as I raise myself from my seat just enough for Ryan to hook fingers into my panties and tug down. “Finish the job,” he murmurs. “Take them off and give them to me.”

Christ…

around the table, everyone talking to

on a sheepish smile, duck under the table to ‘retrieve it’. In the five seconds I have to work with, I slide the panties down and over my ankles, pressing them into Ryan’s waiting hand, snatch up the fork and return to the upper

fork, Kirstie?” James is

it’s fine.” I wipe it

Ryan’s lips don’t move. But his hand does, pushing between my

difficult to chew turkey

*****

her, and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can you excuse

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

blushes. “Um,

if you like. Give you a hand. I know what it’s like when you’re that

gives her a grateful smile as Richard stands, sliding her chair out as she heaves herself upright. But Charlotte is struggling herself to get up from her seat and Mitch rises too.

break myself, but with Ryan’s finger working spirals between my pussy lips, I’m conscious of

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

exit, Ryan taps me on the shoulder. “Kirstie, why do women go to the

austere expression

I’ve always wondered that

it is an ideal opportunity

lip.

the room, tails wagging, noses raised towards table level, or in Emma’s case, above

He snaps his fingers under the table, waving the greasy paper. “Hey, Scruffy. Here, Scruffy.” Michael’s rat-faced mongrel streaks across the floor, snatches at the hat then speeds

of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own hats. Michael wipes his down with a bit of turkey skin, then clicking

of Famine, sits at Richard’s feet, raising limpid brown eyes to him, then as she is presented with turkey-flavoured tissue, descends on it like a wolf ravening