Chapter 68: Kirstie's Christmas, Part 8

Ryan takes the wineglass from my fingers, setting it down on the table. There's that look in his eye. "Time to retire, I think."

I take a shot at demure... "I think so, yes." ... But as his nostrils flare, realise I have failed miserably.

He presses against my thigh, oh, so lightly... And my already warm pussy purrs. Several hours of waiting and the promise of the kind of incandescent sex Ryan offers, have me teetering on the brink.

Which was of course entirely his intention with the day's earlier performance.

"We're going to bed," announces Ryan. "It's been a long day for us."

Voices call around us. Heads nod.

"Of course. Goodnight."

"See you in the morning."

"Sleep well."

I don't believe I'll be sleeping for a while yet.

As we exit, Michael, eyes creasing, waves towards the tray of drinks on the sideboard. "Take a bottle up with you and a couple of glasses."

Ryan chooses a bottle of Rioja. "Very civilised of him," he murmurs as we make our way up the stairs.