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

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

is already

it’s fine.” I wipe

Ryan’s lips don’t move. But his

to chew turkey while having your pussy

*****

uneasily in her seat. Richard murmurs something quiet to her, and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can you excuse me,

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

blushes. “Um,

you a hand. I know what it’s like

as she heaves herself upright. But Charlotte is struggling herself to get up from her

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

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

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

austere expression on

pipes up. “Actually, I’ve always wondered

it,” I say, “Because it is

at his lip. “I had

the room, tails wagging,

along the length of the paper. 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 away with it, trailing oily

in a cloud of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own hats.

the Four Horsemen learning they are late for the Apocalypse. Meg, in her best rendition of the role 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