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…

glance around the table,

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,

James is already half-standing from his

wipe

But his hand does, pushing between

is astonishingly difficult to chew turkey while

*****

her, and she nods, grimacing. Then, “Can you excuse me, please. I’ll be back in a

Charlotte pipes up. “Bladder?”

blushes. “Um, yes,

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

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. “I think you both still need help in that area,”

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

Black dress, not red…

Hmmm…

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

an austere

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

is an ideal opportunity to

his lip. “I

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

smears bacon fat all 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,

of hair and outrage, but Ryan, Michael, Richard and Larry exchange inspired glances, snatching

Famine, sits at Richard’s feet, raising limpid brown eyes to him, then as she