Forfeit

by Stoneley, Zara

  She swayed on the high heels, the ice against her hot body intensifying the heat between her legs, sending a new rush of pleasure. It didn’t matter that he was in charge now and if she fought she lost everything. If she didn’t do what he said she would never get the divorce he had promised, never get her freedom back. She didn’t want to say no; she couldn’t say no, her whole body was throbbing with need. She wanted to writhe on the floor, rub her swollen clit until she came. Nothing else mattered right now, not the forfeit, not the marriage.

  She stretched her hands out and grasped the fabric, winding her fingers into it. Her breasts lifted and she could feel the warmth of embarrassment flush through her at the way her nipples had hardened, were pointed straight at him. Nothing hidden.

  ‘Now spread your legs apart.’ He was close, so close, watching as she sacrificed herself. Her breasts were rising and falling as she struggled to keep composure, to fight the growing need inside her. She edged her feet further apart, feeling the dampness of her knickers pressing against her pussy, needing to hold the curtains to keep her balance. His hands stroked the inside of her thighs, edged them further apart, ran up towards her mound, his thumbs brushing lightly over her crack, caressing her clit with the lightest feather touch. Then, as she could feel herself tighten in anticipation, feel the scream in her throat, he dropped his hands to his sides again.

  ‘You’re mine, Cat, and I intend to have every bit of you.’ He leant forward suddenly, his teeth taking her nipple through the flimsy fabric. The sudden nip made her cry out, and then he sucked. Hard, until she let out a cry that was a scream turned to moan. He pulled the lace cup of her bra underneath her breast, watching the pale flesh spill out. His thumb ran up the underside, his finger and thumb meeting to roll her nipple, pulling it to an ever harder peak, sending sharp spears of pain and pleasure straight between her legs. Then he was nestling her breast in his hand, holding it firmly as his mouth came down; his fingers squeezing it, his mouth wide, taking more of its softness as his teeth scraped the soft flesh. He was sucking, his tongue flicking over her, and she gasped at the rush of pleasure it sent all the way down to her already sodden panties.

  She wanted to close her thighs tight together, to slide them against each other, and bring herself to the orgasm that she knew was so close. She could feel her swollen lips pressing against the fabric. But his knees were between hers, keeping her legs spread, keeping her in the position he had ordered.

  His free hand moved down, as though he knew, twisting itself in the lace, pulling it up tighter until the fabric pressed against her engorged clit, sending a new wave of need through her. She gasped, tried to ease her hips forward, to press the cutting material tighter. She needed the pressure; God, she needed to come. He eased his mouth free, his tongue flicking one last time at her swollen nipple. Then he looked up and smiled, tightening his grip on her knickers. ‘Keep your bum against the window, there’s a good girl.’ He moved his mouth to her other breast, his lips sucking harder and harder until it peaked, until she didn’t know whether she was screaming for him to stop, or to make him do more. Her hands scrunched in the curtain, kneading the soft fabric frantically, wanting desperately to push his head closer, force his mouth properly on to her breast. He was teasing, tugging, pulling until she could feel the orgasm pulsating inside her, until the throbbing started to make her legs tremble. He pulled away, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Stretching his hand out, he stroked down the side of her face and then reached up to unpin her hair so that it tumbled over her shoulders.

  ‘You are so hot, Cat; do you want to see what you’ve done to me?’ One lazy finger traced down her flat stomach, making her gasp, making the muscles contract and a whole new wave of heat spread between her legs. ‘Don’t move, darling.’ He stepped back, shed his shirt, slowly unbuckled the belt on his trousers, then dropped them to the floor. She gasped. She couldn’t remember him being this big, looking so good before. She’d never needed a cock like she needed this one.

  ‘You want my big, hard cock rammed inside you, don’t you, Cat?’ He stepped closer and she gasped as he reached out and grasped her crotch with one hand, squeezing it hard. The heel of his hand pressed hard against her clit, his fingers curling up, pressing the lace of her panties against her soft lips, squeezing a cry out of her. He eased the pressure for a second before squeezing again, and then, as his mouth came down on hers, his finger slipped deep inside her slickness.

  ‘You’re so wet and ready for me, aren’t you?’ His tongue plunged into her mouth and the taste of him mingled with the smell of sex, the smell of her juices that he had released, that she could feel already trickling down the inside of her thigh. She could feel her legs trembling; she hung desperately to the drapes as he forced her back harder against the cold pane of glass. His tongue was plundering her mouth, hard and thrusting to match the finger, and then he had two fingers in, rhythmically pushing deeper and deeper, his thumb rubbing against the nub of her clit. She tried to push her hips forward, to push down; she needed more, she was throbbing so hard. He had taken his mouth from hers.

  ‘What about all the people who can see that pretty bum from the street, Cat? Shall I stop?’

  ‘No.’ She knew it sounded like a plea, but she didn’t care; he couldn’t stop. His fingers slowed for a moment and she couldn’t help a low moan. She wriggled her hips, pressing against his hand, needing more.

  ‘You don’t care if everyone sees you come?’ His mouth was close to her ear. ‘You don’t care about all those horny old men in the street looking up at your sweet pussy?’ His voice was ragged and as he spoke Cat knew that for the second time in her life she was about to beg him to bury his thick, hard cock where it belonged. Inside her.

  Chapter Two

  Cat didn’t care about anything right now, except the throbbing between her legs, the need that he had created. He had slipped his fingers free and she could feel her juices on her thighs, smell her own musky scent as he raised his hand to his lips. Slowly, he placed his fingers one by one into his mouth and sucked them clean.

  His eyes were dark as he looked at her, never leaving her face as he stepped closer, put one hand on each of her hips, his thumbs tracing circles on her stomach, and, without a word, he drove straight into her, one hard plunge that buried his hard cock deep, deep inside her sleek wetness. And as he surged she dimly heard a scream that had to be hers, then the orgasm was rocking through her, a thundering, rolling wave after wave that left her moaning and clutching his shoulders until all that was left was silent sobs, wracking her body.

  She was dimly aware of his strong arms wrapped around her, of his erection still buried deep inside her, and as she lifted her head from his shoulder he started to move again; long, slow, steady thrusts that stirred her depths, breaking moans and gasps from her. Sensations she couldn’t believe were swirling in her body again so soon.

  ‘Put your legs round me.’ She lifted her legs and wrapped them round his hips, and then he was holding her close, carrying her to the bed, his cock deep inside her. His mouth came down on hers, hard and possessive, his tongue exploring the inside of her mouth, tasting the rush of wetness that mimicked the one between her legs. Then he was pushing hard, swallowing her cries, as she raked her fingernails down his back. He tore his mouth away with a moan, his eyes locking with hers, almost black with desire as he hammered harder and harder into her, and each cry she made seemed to spur him on. She was dimly aware of her legs stuck in the air, stretching her legs higher and wider with each plunge, the red high heels stark against her flesh.

  ‘Wider, Cat, let me in deeper.’ And she parted her legs as wide as they would go, feeling his balls slap against her as he drove in deeper and harder, pushing her towards sensations of pain and pleasure she didn’t know existed. She mewed out an objection as he suddenly withdrew, then he flipped her over, pulling her to the edge of the bed. She could feel the strength of his muscled legs, harsh against the back of her legs, felt briefly the velvet softness of h
is cock before he slid it slowly, deliberately all the way back in. Then, standing behind her, one hand on her waist, the other reaching to rub her engorged clit, he was pounding her, pulling almost out and then burying himself deep, the pressure of his hand leaving her torn between screaming yes and no, her nipples rubbing against the satin bedsheet, the friction spurring her on to push back against him, to move with him.

  ‘Do you want me to fill that hot pussy? Shall I come inside you, kitty-cat, all my hot juices?’

  All she could think was yes as she could feel him harder and bigger inside her, yes, yes , yes, and just as her own orgasm took over her mind she felt him explode, the rhythmic shooting of hot sperm inside her sending new shudders through her body. The pulsations seemed to go on and on, until all she was aware of was the sound of her pounding heart.

  She had collapsed on the bed as he came, his final thrust shattering what was left of her control, and now she lay sprawled, her dark hair half obscuring her face. He pushed it back gently but she didn’t stir. The ruby red lips were parted, and all he could think of was seeing them wrapped around his cock; a cock that was already stirring again. He had waited 12 months for this, had stuck to his promise not to touch her and it had been sweet torture.

  She had played her part to a T, all prim and proper as she acted the perfect wife and hostess, and all he had been able to think about was tearing her clothes off and showing her who she really was. How many times had he watched her serve drinks, laughing with the male guests who occasionally reached out and slapped her bum or kissed her goodbye with a familiarity he didn’t like?

  She’d tried hard not to look at him with hunger, had nearly always been aloof, almost as though sex didn’t matter to her. But he’d seen her watching him, had heard her moan in the night, had heard her thrash about in her sleep, and he knew that under it all was more passion than she knew how to control. And he wanted to control it for her.

  He’d had her once, over a year ago, and it had left a hunger he couldn’t ignore any longer. God knows he had tried, because he’d sensed something in Cat that he’d never felt before with a woman. Something dangerous, something that raised a warning. Something he couldn’t resist; which was why he’d married her.

  And he’d just had another taste of her. He’d just reawakened the need; if it had ever needed reawakening. The sight of her in the office each day had taunted him; those perfect breasts were smaller than he normally went for, but perfectly rounded, with nipples that called out for his attention. Before he’d taken her for the first time he’d run his hands over the perfect globes, down into the curve of her waist, over the curve of her hip, and as his palm moulded each contour it was burnt into his memory. One taste of Cat could never have been enough. And nor was two.

  He smiled. He wanted to unleash every bit of buried need, and he wanted to hear her beg for more. That luscious body was meant for sex: those naughty, pouting lips were meant to be wrapped around a hard cock; that pussy needing licking until the juices flowed between them. He needed to taste her, to bury himself in her. She just didn’t know it yet. But she was about to find out.

  Brent closed his eyes and let the warm water of the shower run over him. Imagined soaping her down, his hand between her legs – but that was another day. Today had been the first step; the glamorous, uptight girl dressed in designer clothes stripped bare. Stripped for all the world to see. He’d shown her it was all unimportant; that it was fine to let her desires take over from common sense. All she had to do was let someone else take control. All she had to do was let go. Just a little bit. And that was just the start. He ran a hand over his hardening cock. The evening had only just begun.

  Towelling himself dry as he strolled back into the bedroom, he stood at the end of the bed, watching her. He had stuck to his side of the bargain. He’d resisted the urge to touch her since the day they had got married. Until today. And now if she wanted the money and the divorce she had to do what she had promised. To fulfil his fantasies, the fantasies that had grown over the last year. The fantasies that had woken him sweating in the middle of the night with a hard-on he couldn’t ignore.

  He sat on the edge of the bed, ran one hand slowly down her body, feeling the softness of her skin, revelling in her dips and curves. Christ, she was fuckable, right from that pretty face down every inch of her shapely body. His hand rested in the dip of her waist and she stirred, the green-brown eyes flicking open, focusing slowly on him. He liked a woman when she was like this, still sleepy from a good, hard shag, still pliant, half turned on, hungry for more. He knew when he touched her she’d still be hot and swollen, sensitive to his every touch. He rolled her, unresisting, onto her back, eased her legs apart. Watched her eyes widen and her lips part; felt her stiffen slightly as he brushed her slit gently with her finger. He kept his eyes on her as he scraped his cheek against the soft, silky inner thigh, felt her sharp intake of breath travel through his hand where it rested on her stomach. Then he nestled his face deeper, his eyes never leaving her as he slowly, deliberately ran his tongue along her swollen labia. She gave a moan, closed her eyes. He gently probed, his tongue finding its way in, and she moaned again, her legs dropping further apart, opening herself to him. She was already wet, his tongue coated with her juices as he circled her clit, feeling it swell into a hard nub as he flicked.

  He blew and she squirmed, then he took a firmer hold, sucking hard, feeling his dick respond to the writhing of her body. She was calling out, her hands in his hair, pulling, trying to pull his head away to release the sweet agony, but he knew that any second now the ecstasy would take over. His erection was getting bigger and harder by the second and he willed his body to wait. He could feel the orgasm start up in her even before she seemed to be aware of it, the juices flowing harder and faster into his mouth, each bit of her engorged and pulsing. He sucked more gently now, alternating with tugging at her, with flicking with his tongue, and then, as she started to clutch at him, at the sheets, at anything her hands could grasp, to roll her hips with growing urgency, he buried his face deep inside her. Feeling the tremors, tasting her sweet cream as she came strong and hard, writhing in his hands as his tongue reached deeper so he could feel her body pulsing, savouring every bit of her.

  He didn’t move from between her thighs until her body had stopped shaking and then, slowly, he stood. Her cat’s eyes were fixed on him, drugged from sex. ‘Come here.’ He tried to keep his tone gentle, soft, but he couldn’t stop the harshness that came from his desire. He couldn’t wait any longer; he was throbbing so much it hurt and she either sucked him off or he came all over her now. She slithered sleepily to the edge of the bed, dropped to the floor at his feet, knowing what he wanted. Wanting to please him, as he hoped she would.

  She reached out, cradled him gently in both hands, then slowly, surely, those ruby lips came closer. She flicked her tongue the length of him and it was sweet torture, then she was opening her mouth, wrapping her lips around him, and he tangled his fingers in her hair as she slid her warm, wet mouth along the length of him.

  ‘Fuck, that’s so good.’ His words seemed to spur her on; her tongue was flicking around his sensitive nerve endings, her hand was cradling his balls, and then she was taking more of him deep inside her mouth, sucking and moving, squeezing his bum. He fought the urge to ram himself deeper down her throat, let her set the pace, watched those sweet red lips until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and all too soon he could feel himself coming, knew he couldn’t hold on any longer, closed his eyes and felt himself explode right down her gorgeous throat.

  * * *

  He couldn’t help but watch as she slept; so close to him. Her body pressed against his, her long, supple limbs entwined with his the way they had been when he was deep inside her. So close. Almost one. But she was just out of reach, always tantalisingly out of his grasp. He’d spent a year as her husband and yet he felt further from her than he ever had. And it wasn’t what he wanted. He had to get under her skin, had to have more.<
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  Last night, for just a short time he had felt tantalisingly close. Those green eyes had been drunk with lust and need; she’d opened the door so he could glimpse what it would be like to have her.

  He could feel himself harden as he studied her steady breathing, the rise and fall of her breasts below the satin sheet. The way it caressed her curves exactly how he wanted his hand to. Brent wrapped his hand round his growing erection and groaned inwardly.

  Cat opened her eyes, suddenly awake. Shit. Wide awake. He was watching her, his face inches from her, and she could feel her body start to tingle. Double shit. He was smiling, which wasn’t helping. Then he reached out and stroked down the side of her face. Her nipples sprung to attention, her boobs feeling heavier by the second. The thought of his hand reaching down between her legs was making her throb. Already.

  ‘Morning, darling.’ He was smiling; probably at the way her breasts were making a bid for freedom, or an attempt to catch his attention. The hand moved down to her bum, squeezing one cheek firmly. Just like he had last night when she’d been pressed up against the cold glass. Then he was up and out of bed, his cock standing firmly to attention. Did it ever do anything else?

  ‘Time for a shower, and I’m afraid I’ve got work to do.’ He was enjoying this, she was sure from the way those bloody ice blue eyes were warming themselves on her body, from the predatory smile before he turned and headed for the bathroom. Aware no doubt of her eyes greedily watching that tight, chiselled butt every step of the way.

  For a second she thought about following him to the shower, getting rid of this throbbing between her legs. Shit. Get a grip, Cat! Had one night completely frazzled her brain? One bloody fantasy and she was acting like some sex-starved nymph. And that was exactly the problem. She was sex-starved; 12 long months without a shag, having a sex god like him parade his body in front of her every day. Every single bloody day. No wonder she’d exploded last night when he’d taken control. All she had to do was survive whatever else he had planned for her. She would, no problem; she’d just been desperate yesterday. Any man would have tipped her over the balance, not just him. Her body tingled as she caught sight of the red shoes.