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…

the table, everyone talking to

slide the panties down and over my ankles, pressing them into

James is already half-standing from

fine.” I wipe

girl.” Again, Ryan’s lips don’t move. But his hand

difficult to chew turkey while

*****

and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can you excuse me, please. I’ll

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

blushes. “Um,

hand. I know

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

could do with a comfort break myself, but with Ryan’s finger working spirals between

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

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

an austere expression

pipes up. “Actually, I’ve always wondered that too…”

it is an

lip. “I had to

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

snaps his fingers under the table, waving the greasy paper. “Hey, Scruffy. Here,

outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching off their own

the role of Famine, sits at Richard’s feet, raising limpid brown eyes to him, then