Forfeit

by Stoneley, Zara

  He tensed slightly. ‘I’m going to take you into that changing room soon, Cat.’ He passed her a pink satin basque, dangling the matching thong on one finger. ‘And I will check that those little balls are high up in that tight pussy, and I might just rub that swollen clit.’ He ran a finger down the side of the face. ‘But only if you tell me exactly what it feels like and exactly ’ he paused ‘ what you want.’

  Brent took his time selecting the lingerie he liked. He could imagine the warm cream tones against the honey of her skin in the same way he could imagine the hot pink basque which he wanted her to wear later. Later, when she would make herself come. He wanted her to say what she wanted, to hear that voice whisper in his ear how good it was, not just the odd word screamed out in a moment of passion. He wanted to orgasm from knowing what she was feeling, from hearing her say it, from her knowing how to make herself come. He smiled; he knew this shop well and he knew the changing room was upstairs. Which was partly why he’d picked it, because he knew running upstairs would send a whole new sensation into that tormented pussy, a sensation that would tip her ever closer to the orgasm she was desperate for.

  He gave her butt a gentle push as she hesitated on the first step, watched her cheeks tense at each upward move, knowing that her pussy was massaging the two little balls inside her, growing wetter at each step.

  ‘Which shall I try on?’ She stood, flushed and panting slightly in the small changing room.

  ‘Oh, I’m not bothered about that, darling.’ He ran his hand under her skirt, up the firm thigh towards a pussy that he knew was uncovered. She gasped in his ear as he pushed a firm finger in, rocking the bottom of the hard ball, massaging her G-spot.

  ‘Is that good?’ The way she sank her teeth into his shoulder to stop her moan told him it was damn good, but he stopped. Waited.

  ‘Yeees.’

  ‘How good?’ She had her leg wrapped up round his waist and he rubbed her hard nub with his thumb, his fingers dancing against labia that were swollen, throbbing with arousal, already parted in anticipation.

  ‘I want to come.’ She moaned against his mouth. ‘Please.’

  She was on the verge of coming, grasping him, desperate to tip over, her nails sharp in his shoulders. He tugged at the neck of her T-shirt, pulling it down so that the full, round breasts spilled out, the pale skin a sharp contrast against the bright colour of her clothes. He ran one finger round her erect nipple, watching it tighten, her moan sending fire straight down to a cock that was already hard. ‘I’ve got more toys for you later if you’re a good girl.’ As he spoke he pressed harder on her clit, feeling her thigh tremble against him.

  ‘I’m going to come.’ Her voice was heavy, husky.

  ‘You come for me, darling, you come.’ Then, holding her breast firm, he brought his mouth down, taking as much of her as he could and sucking hard, his tongue flicking around the swollen tip, her body arching in response. His other hand tormented the hot, swollen clit, and he watched as her mouth opened wider in a deep, silent sigh after sigh that reflected the shudders in his hand.

  As her leg slipped down and she opened her eyes, he kissed her full lips gently. ‘I think we’ll buy all of these, don’t you, darling?’

  He’d insisted they had a long walk, which was sweet agony, and even though he’d granted her that one orgasm she felt close to exploding point. In fact, she could have sworn he’d done it on purpose to make her feel even more turned on. Each time she hurried a step or skipped up a kerb new, stronger waves of longing reached through her body and she couldn’t decide whether she loved it or loathed it, but she did know she had a permanent desire to stroke herself, to touch her nipples or her pussy and make herself come.

  ‘We could go dancing.’

  She looked at him in alarm but he laughed. ‘I cannot ’

  ‘It might make you come, again and again. Disco dancing?’ He was grinning, a dangerous grin, but his eyes were too dark for banter. ‘You have that look in your eyes you have just before you come, all dark and wanting.’

  ‘That’s because I am all bloody wanting.’

  ‘It suits you. I like to see you turned on.’

  Which was handy, seeing as every second she spent with him she was turned on to varying degrees. And now she was simmering, about to explode volcanically at the slightest touch. And he knew it.

  ‘More shopping, darling, or shall we head home?’ Pure tones of innocence, if he could be innocent. But that dark, rich voice was too knowing, too heavy with sensuality to be innocent. ‘I know how you enjoy shopping, shop till you drop.’ His smile was pure mischief. ‘Literally.’ And his arm was round her waist, hugging her to him as he laughed.

  ‘It depends if you’d like to see turned on turn into jumping you like a bitch on heat.’

  He laughed again, his hand squeezing one bum cheek. ‘That sounds so good, but I think somewhere more discreet might be better, unless you want to chance it back in that changing room?’

  She threw him a punch which he easily dodged, catching her hand and raising it to his lips, his tongue burning a promise along her knuckles.

  Brent lay back on the bed and watched. She moved across the room almost shyly. ‘Please.’ He could hear the catch in his own voice; for a moment her eyes locked with his and she hesitated, her tongue darting out to dampen her lips in a way he knew so well. ‘For me, Cat, show me.’ The corners of her mouth curled slightly and she dipped her thick eyelashes to hide her tawny gaze; then, slowly, she slipped the straps from her shoulders with hands that caressed the skin he so wanted to touch. Looking back into his eyes, she started to undo the buttons down the front, her body swaying to the beat of the music that played softly in the background. The dress fell free, shimmying down her hips, pooling around her feet in a soft swirl of colour. Her hands stroked up her body, and once more her lashes shut the entry to her soul as she languorously caressed her breasts, palming her nipples, her lips parting. Her long fingers started to encircle the hardening peaks and she let out a soft moan as she took each nipple between finger and thumb, rolling and tweaking, tilting her head back to expose her throat. Brent watched, mesmerised, his hand moving instinctively down to his hardening cock. He wrapped his fingers slowly round his shaft, mimicking her timing, wanting to be part of the pleasure. His eyes were drawn back to the full, parted lips and he could see her tongue moving within the dark, damp recesses of her mouth, darting to wet her lips, ranging over her teeth as though in a deep erotic kiss of her own making, as though she were enticing some stranger who existed only in her own mind. His body was tightening, his own nipples hard as he watched the sensual dance of her mouth. She opened her eyes, and they were love-drugged as she moved silently over to him, straddling him on the bed. Her hand moved down between the apex of her thighs and she moaned again as her fingers found the dampness they were seeking. The breath he hadn’t known he was holding came out in a ragged chorus and he willed his hand to slow its ever-increasing pull on his cock.

  She seemed oblivious to him as one hand continued its languid caress of her pussy, whilst her other hand rolled an ever-hardening nipple, a nipple that he wanted too much in his mouth, to dampen, to lick, to nip between his teeth, his lips. Her fingers were seeking higher and she licked the fingers of her other hand before sliding them down over her stomach, leaving a damp trail, until at last they found her swollen clit. She was edging over his body, brushing his straining cock with her damp thighs, moving up until she straddled his head, until he could see the sweet, swollen pussy, smell her arousal, see the juices that had already coated the inside of her thighs, feel the damp heat surround him. And then she was thrusting her hips, rotating, shimmying against her hand just inches from his face, one finger of the other hand pressing against her clit as she squeezed her mound, her breath coming ragged and uneven as she fought the inevitable. Her thighs trembled against the side of his face, shudders running through her, soft, almost animal-like sounds breaking out of her body, and he reached up roughly, grasped her
hips, pulling her pliant body down onto his hungry mouth. Her whole body seemed to shudder around him as his tongue sought out the sweetness and he dimly heard more cries as her pussy throbbed around his face and he lapped, desperate to taste her, to take every last bit of the orgasm she had gifted him.

  His tongue carried on delving deep inside her even after the shudders had ended, even when she had relaxed against him, and her soft murmurs told him that her body wanted more. He sucked on her swollen clit, felt the tremble that ran through her, held her steady with firm hands on her hips as his tongue probed as deeply as he could, and soon he felt her coming again, shivers running through her until her stomach went taut, until her thighs tensed around him and she was crying out with pleasure.

  When she fell back this time he went with her, lowering her gently between his legs, sitting up between her spread thighs, his hand already on his hard cock. She reached up, long fingers playing down his length, and he moved to straddle her, above her waist, watching her face as she cupped his aching balls in one hand while the other instinctively drew at his shaft. He put a hand over hers, dictating the pace, breath uneven as he fought for control.

  ‘You want me to come, baby?’

  Her eyes were wide, her tongue on her lips as she kept the rhythm. ‘Come, I want to see you come.’ And then her hands were slipping over his hardness with a touch that was as firm and sure as if she’d known all her life how to do this to him. He closed his eyes, feeling his head tip back, aware only of her breathing, of her soft voice urging him on, her velvet touch caressing and he lost all control. He heard her gasp as the semen shot out, strong pulses he couldn’t control, that dragged her name from his lips with a triumphant cry he hardly recognised as his own.

  She leant back against him as the water ran over them both, and he tipped his head back, letting the jet soak his hair and face. His hands gently soaped between her thighs and her murmurs were nothing like the animal cries of earlier, a soft lull to his senses. He tightened his arm around her. She was his and he barely recognised the pull of possessiveness that surged through his body.

  Cat felt slightly self-conscious as he rubbed her down with the huge, soft towel before wrapping her in it and taking her back to bed. His body curved around hers, a perfect fit, and she drew one hand down the soft, dark hairs that coated his arm, revelling in the strength, the feel of hard muscle. She felt cocooned by a wall of strength, a feeling of security she’d never felt before. A safe place she couldn’t remember not having.

  ‘Are your parents alive?’ She’d suddenly realised she knew hardly anything about him. He never spoke about his family, or his past. But no one had been at the wedding.

  ‘Yeah.’ He pulled her tighter to him. ‘Shh.’

  ‘Just yeah?’

  ‘Hey, what’s got into you with the questions, Miss Nosey? You need a chill pill or another good sorting?’

  ‘You know lots of stuff about me.’

  ‘You told me, hon, I didn’t ask.’

  ‘Oh.’ She wriggled her butt tighter against him, liking the way they slotted perfectly together. ‘Well, can’t I ask?’ He grunted and she squirmed harder.

  ‘It’ll be more than “oh” if you carry on with that wriggling.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Naughty girl.’

  ‘Talk to me and I’ll stop.’

  ‘Not much incentive there, then.’ His voice was dry; his warm hand left her waist for a moment and she knew he was running it through his hair. Thinking. ‘They’re in a residential home, I don’t see them much.’

  ‘Why?’ She glanced round at him, puzzled. ‘Why don’t you go see them?’ It didn’t make sense.

  ‘No point. They’ve both got Alzheimer’s, they don’t even know who I am any more.’ He shrugged, the expression in his dark eyes unreadable. ‘I just keep tabs; check they’re being looked after. It’s hard to see them like that. Does that sound heartless, selfish?’

  ‘Well, no, not if they really don’t know what’s going on.’ She paused, crashed on regardless. ‘Is that why they didn’t come to the wedding?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘Just yup?’

  ‘No point wheeling them in to watch people they don’t know get married.’ His mouth had an odd quirk, a smile that was more resigned than sad.

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘I thought maybe you were ashamed of me, of the whole wedding thing.’

  He gave a short laugh, but this time there was a trace of his normal humour in the sound. ‘Your mind works in mysterious ways, darling. Why should I be ashamed of you?’ He squeezed the dip of her waist, sending a shiver through her.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t exactly a normal wedding, was it?’

  ‘What’s normal, then?’

  ‘You know, two people who love each other.’

  ‘Ah, that.’

  ‘And we didn’t like, well, date, it was just …’

  ‘I didn’t need to date you, darling, I just gave you a proper seeing-to.’

  ‘So modest.’ She decided to change tack. ‘So they had you late?’

  ‘Very. I was brought up in a very loving family with very old-fashioned ideas. Plenty of hugs and kisses, but not an inch of flesh to be seen.’ He ran his hand down her side.

  ‘Even chair legs covered?’

  ‘Even chair legs.’ He kissed her neck. ‘So I resolved to make up for it.’

  ‘Ah, happy but frustrated?’

  ‘Are you trying to analyse my deep, mysterious past, woman?’

  She laughed. Brent was one of the most open people she had ever known. He said what he thought, lived how he wanted. Except until now she’d known absolutely nothing about him. Zilch. ‘Maybe. So that’s why you’ve had all those women, making up for all those years of living a sheltered life?’

  ‘Hey.’ He turned towards her and when his gaze met hers he was serious. ‘Less of the “all those women” bit.’

  ‘But you dated a different girl every week.’ She hesitated, suddenly unsure how he was taking this.

  ‘Yeah, I dated. I took them out because they wanted to go and we had fun; consenting adults and all that.’

  ‘Oh, come on, you’re not exactly a monk.’

  ‘True, but I’m only the same as any other man.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that.’ Her voice was soft as she traced a finger down his broad chest. ‘I wouldn’t say that at all.’ And he laughed, catching her finger tight and raising it to his mouth, but she suddenly felt as though she’d stepped where she shouldn’t have. ‘I’m sorry. Maybe it’s none of my business.’ But still she wanted to know.

  ‘Oh, I don’t mind, but ’ he nipped her finger, making her jump ‘ you do know what happens to naughty girls who won’t stop asking questions, don’t you?’

  ‘No.’ She rolled over onto her side at the serious tone, looking up into black eyes.

  He propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her for a long moment, still holding her hand close to his lips. A shiver of unease coursed through her body as he stared. For a second they locked eyes; then, in one sudden, easy movement, he’d flipped her over and across his lap, his hand coming down hard on her bare buttocks. ‘This.’

  Chapter Eight

  Cat gasped, partly at the shock, partly at the sound. ‘And this.’ There was a second slap and she struggled, kicking her feet, but his strong hands held her still effortlessly, the stinging slaps coming in a steady rhythm, and as they did she could feel warmth flooding her pussy. She rubbed herself against his hard thighs, wriggling in his lap, and he laughed. Then, before she had registered what was happening, she’d been flipped over onto the bed and he smiled a wolfish smile before thrusting deep and hard right to the hilt inside her slick core.

  ‘That was just a warning, darling. Next time I’m going to do it properly.’ And he was thrusting furiously into her, her hips bucking up to meet him until they were both breathless and too soon she knew she was coming as she wrapped her legs round him, pulling his
hips even tighter against hers so that she could feel the slap of his balls, feel the grind of his pelvis. Share the pulse of his orgasm.

  The insistent ring of the phone woke her and for a second she thought it must be Brent. The answerphone clicked in and she smiled, half holding her breath, waiting for the oh so familiar voice to kick in, remonstrating at her for still being in bed when he’d been up and out an hour before.

  But it wasn’t his voice. It was a woman. Her tone familiar in a way that made Cat’s hackles rise, sending a prickle of unease down the back of her neck. For a moment she froze, then leapt out of bed, her legs tangling with the sheet, reaching the phone too late. Cat swore under her breath; whoever it was knew Brent and knew him well. And she didn’t like it at all.

  The second ring confused her, and it took a moment for her to realise it was his mobile, somehow forgotten, that must have slipped out of his pocket and fallen unnoticed as they fell on each other.

  This time, she got there before it rang off. And even though every instinct was screaming at her not to, she answered.

  Brent looked at Cat’s face and felt a surge of unease roar through his body. He was shot straight back to the day after their very first impromptu shag. God, that now seemed like a lifetime ago, except she’d brought it all back in an instant with that one look. It was the same look. Except worse. Last time, he’d already made the decision that to get involved was a mistake, until he’d seen her again. And then she had brought the shutters down, had stared at him with empty eyes that said she’d made a mistake and she wasn’t going to do it again. Which had got to him.

  Now, there was an added element. She was looking at him with eyes that said it was all his fault, his mistake. The type of mistake she’d never forgive him for.

  ‘What’s up, darling?’

  ‘Where’ve you been?’ She was edgy in a way that told him she’d been waiting for this for a while, letting the simmer of distrust build.

  ‘Just work. I told you I had to go to that meeting, nothing ’

  ‘Don’t give me that shit.’ The voice was edgy, cold, a tone he’d never heard before. He knew she had steel running through her slight frame, but it never came out like this. It was as though she was exerting such a massive control over herself that everything had turned wooden, every real bit of herself had drained away.