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

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 world, wearing my best

fork, Kirstie?” James is already half-standing from

it’s fine.” I wipe it down

lips don’t move. But his

astonishingly difficult to chew turkey while having

*****

and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can you

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

“Um,

“I’ll come with you if you like. Give you a hand. I know what it’s like when you’re that size and you’re trying

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

Ryan’s finger working

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

on the shoulder. “Kirstie, why

turn an austere expression on

always wondered that too…” James

it,” I say, “Because it is an ideal opportunity to compare notes

lip.

A tide of dogs flows into the room, tails wagging, noses raised towards table level,

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

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

return like 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 from the