Forfeit

by Stoneley, Zara

‘Well, go on, then, talk.’

  ‘Let’s go home, then I’ll explain.’

  ‘Talk. Now.’ She was frozen at the doorway to the hotel and he could have sworn that if she’d had the claws of her namesake he’d be shredded. ‘Tell me how you know Steve.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you, Cat, I meant to. Please, come home and let me explain.’

  ‘Home?’ Cat gave a harsh laugh. ‘I’m not sure that place of yours has ever been my home.’

  ‘Cat, please.’

  ‘Talk, or I’m walking right now, and you can stuff your whole forfeit thing and your money and your fucking divorce for all I care.’ She suddenly knew that this hadn’t been about money, or security. Not in the way she’d thought. She hadn’t agreed to marry him because it was the only way out, because it hadn’t been. She could have got another job, a better paid job; she’d already been offered one. And she hadn’t agreed to his forfeit, to his game of fantasy, because she had to; she’d done it because she wanted to.

  She had wanted sex with Brent. She’d been desperate to get her hands on him, desperate to feel his mouth on hers, on her body, desperate for him to give her an excuse to behave badly. And she should have known it could all go very wrong. That she could get used to having him around, get used to that soft, coaxing voice, those eyes that searched all the way to your soul. That she could start to believe this was reality. That he wanted her. Forget that; to him it was only a game.

  And he’d wanted to shag her all along. Oh yeah, she’d known that full well after the first time, and he’d admitted not too long ago that once hadn’t been enough, that he’d needed more, needed to get her out of his system. So he’d tricked her, set her up. He’d acted the gent and let her have 12 agonising months of celibacy, then he’d done what he’d intended to all along. Used her.

  ‘Please, let’s go home, Cat.’

  ‘And let you get your hands on me again? No way.’

  ‘Then at least sit down.’ He suddenly sounded tired, unsure of himself. Not like the Brent she knew at all. He’d sunk down on one of the hotel steps and she warily sat next to him.

  ‘You tricked me.’

  ‘I had to, Cat. I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t see any other way to stop you leaving. I know I sound like a complete shit, but I couldn’t risk you going and never coming back.’

  ‘You could have just chatted me up like any normal guy.’

  ‘Christ, Cat, I’d had 12 months of trying to chat you up and you’d just brushed me off. I didn’t know how to chat you up. That first night we went out, it was easy; we both wanted it, and flirting and ending up in bed just came easy. But how do you ask your wife to sleep with you, especially when you’re not allowed to touch her?’

  ‘You could have just tried kissing me.’

  ‘Shit, I did try, Cat, and you glared at me. I didn’t want to force you; I’d promised not to, and I knew you weren’t just going to go back on what you’d said. I’d spent a whole bloody year with you tormenting me and I hadn’t got an inch closer. It might have been wrong, but I thought this way would give us both an excuse. We could just let go because we had to, so I thought if you figured you’d got no choice it might help. I’d never have forced you if you hadn’t wanted. You know that, don’t you?’ He traced his finger along the hard concrete step between his feet, not even looking up to see her nod. Yes, in her heart she’d known that. She’d known he wouldn’t hurt her, wouldn’t force her, and this was a game they both wanted to play. They were only getting what they both wanted. But she’d learnt to trust him, and it was all a lie.

  ‘I meant to tell you I’d set you up, that I’d asked him to persuade you to have a drink with him, but it never seemed the right time. I’ve never lied to you, Cat, apart from this.’ He looked up then, and his cloudy blue gaze met her head on. ‘Never.’

  Never lied, but wasn’t this big enough to cover a life full of lies? He’d tricked her into breaking her agreement. Tricked her into sex. ‘Everything we’ve done together has been a lie.’

  ‘Not true, Cat.’

  ‘I trusted you, you bastard.’ She’d wanted to trust him. Wanted to believe she had no choice. And whose fault was that?

  ‘I don’t want you to go yet.’

  ‘Why? Because you’ve not finished with your list of sick fantasies?’

  ‘Fuck that.’ His low tone was so angry that she flinched. ‘We’re not finished.’

  ‘I am.’ She stood up, taking a rapid step back out of his range. But he didn’t make a move to get up. He just looked at her.

  ‘Here.’ He dangled a key. ‘Take the car and go home. I’ll come home in the morning and we’ll talk.’

  She snatched the key, took a step or two away from him. ‘Where are you going to go?’

  He shrugged. ‘Don’t worry about me.’

  ‘Fine.’ But she would. How could she not worry about him? Even if, like every other man in her life, he’d just betrayed her.

  Cat sat on the floor by the large window and looked over a city of twinkling lights, wondering where he was. She watched as the sky became blacker, as slowly the sun rose and the orange glow spread over the buildings, creeping its way over each obstacle until gradually the new day arrived.

  He’d made her feel alive, made her laugh, made her tell him secrets that she’d never shared with anyone. She hugged her knees closer to her chest. He’d not really wormed his way into her heart with lies and deception, because the route had always been open for him. Since that first time he’d smiled at her, that first touch, that first time he’d held her. Which was why she’d shut him out, run away, blamed Jamie for setting her up for a rebound, blamed her dad for genes that made her see attraction as just dangerous lust, blamed her mum for forbidding all traces of emotion. Blamed everyone else when she’d been afraid of letting herself go.

  Maybe he’d been right; the only way to stop her running and face her demons was to give her no choice. But could she stay now she knew he’d tricked her? Could she enjoy another day with him when she knew she couldn’t trust him, when she’d been stupid enough to fall in love with a man who gave freely of everything but himself. A man she didn’t know at all. Sex had destroyed her family, had ruined her engagement, but however much her heart wanted her to, could her head let her risk it destroying her too?

  The sound of the door shutting made her jump, then he was there. He was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn when they went out last night, but where yesterday they had been debonair, today they were darkly sensual.

  His shirt was open at the neck, the bowtie long discarded, and the sight of his warm, tanned skin against the crisp white brought a lump to her throat. His hands were deep in his pockets, the fine cloth pulled snug against perfect hips. The dark curls of his hair were tousled, as though he had run his hands repeatedly through them, and the stubble that cast a long shadow over his face would be rough, as she knew so well. A small shiver went through her; she could imagine the feel of that roughness scraping against her soft skin, waking her nerve-endings, stirring her very core.

  Cobalt eyes were fixed on her, dark and stormy. Eyes that showed none of the regret of last night, only a determination that set off a stirring of unease deep in her belly. For a moment he stood in the doorway, a statement that he possessed everything before him, including her. His eyes seemed more deep set than ever, the sharp cheekbones framing a face that could almost have been cruel. A face she would miss so much if she never saw it again.

  ‘Cat.’ The voice she would miss so much if she never heard it again. A voice that was honey, that tempted with sweet promise, that was more dangerous in its seduction than any angry word could have been.

  She pulled herself up onto unsteady feet, wavering in his certainty. She had half-expected him to come with apologies, to be full of promises or excuses. Not this certainty, this confidence that she so loved, so needed. That was him. One hundred per cent Brent.

  He walked over, his strides eating up the ground effortlessly until he
was within touching range. ‘I was wrong, Cat, but you didn’t really care, did you? You wanted me to take control, didn’t you, to give you an excuse?’ She looked into the blue eyes and half-nodded, jumped as he reached out to hold the back of her head firm, leaving her whole body tingling in response. ‘I never used you; it was what you wanted, what I wanted, and you want it now, don’t you?’

  His voice was silky, his gaze burning through her so she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She could feel her heart quicken, the blood rushing through her, creating an awareness that shut everything else out. ‘Don’t you?’ Her tongue darted out, damp against parched lips. ‘Tell me, or I’m stopping this right now. It’s not a game any more.’ She nodded, his grip on her hair causing a jolt of new awareness, of knowledge that he had her, and she couldn’t do anything about it any more. All common sense had left the moment he’d cast his magnetic spell around her with his very first touch.

  ‘Yes.’ The strangled whisper came out and his eyes seemed to darken as the corners of his mouth curled slightly. Then his lips came down on hers with a bruising force that sent a shudder through her, and a flood of warmth straight between her thighs. A strong tongue forced her lips apart, plundering her mouth with a possession that made her feel weak. He pushed her harder against the wall, his body pressed against hers, his strength dominating her every thought.

  For a moment he pulled away, her bruised mouth still echoing his kiss, his hand reaching to rip open the soft silk of her chemise. She gasped as her breasts were bared, the nipples a hard contrast against her pale softness. She could feel a quiver of response stir in her body as he stared long and hard before roughly taking one nipple in his mouth and sucking with a force that sent sharp shards straight through her. As she cried out she felt her stomach contract, felt the ache of a promise start to build in her pussy. He lifted his head, and for a second his eyes locked with hers, the fall and rise of his chest uneven, then he had her hands pinned above her head, raising her breasts, allowing him to tug at first one, then the other with a mouth that burnt. She pulled, writhing her body as need built up, gasping as his hand suddenly reached between her legs, one finger firmly parting her hot, swollen lips.

  ‘You want to be given permission to live? Want someone else to take control?’ He sought higher with his finger, pressing her G-spot. ‘Is that what makes you happy?’ She cried out as he massaged, his thumb pressed against her swollen clit, and she gave in to the need to press against him. ‘You always have power, Cat.’ His mouth was against her neck, sending a new shiver through her. ‘You can always control what you do, if you want to.’ His warm tongue was in her ear and she moaned as it bathed her, his teeth nipping at her lobe. ‘It’s always your choice. What is it, Cat?’ He pressed harder, deeper into her. ‘Shall I stop?’

  ‘No. No, don’t stop, I want this.’ She closed her eyes, her hips driving harder against his hand as his mouth came down on her nipple again. She writhed, her whole body desperate for more, his grip unrelenting, keeping her hands pinned up high. His mouth closed ever harder over her breast; each suck stirring new shudders, each plunge of his fingers building the throbbing need. Her juices were damp on her thighs, and then all she could feel was the pulsing building up, the sweet need flooding her pussy as she quivered from taut to undulating around him, from throbbing to quiet.

  ‘And now you’ll do what I tell you.’ His soft voice brought her back to the present. ‘Kneel.’ And she sank down, hardly aware of what she was doing, still lulled by the deep orgasms that flowed through her body. Not thinking to object as he pulled her hands behind her back and tied them with the remnants of her chemise. He unbuckled his belt, dropped his trousers with deliberation, his hard cock jutting out, already tipped with the white of his semen.

  He held something up in front of her sex-drugged eyes; a scrap of pink and black material that at first she did not recognise, then she slowly realised it was a blindfold. It was on her before she could object. She felt her nipples tighten in response, felt the warmth seep through her. Then his hand was on the back of her head, and he was rubbing his saltiness over her parted lips. She reached out her tongue tentatively, tasting him, circling the velvet tip in ever larger sweeps. She opened her mouth to take him.

  ‘No, not yet.’ He pulled harshly back at her hair. ‘Lick.’ And she felt a fresh rush of dampness on her thighs as her cunt pulsed in response.

  She licked, her tongue darting, circling, teasing until he groaned, a deep sound that sent a new throbbing between her legs. She clamped her thighs tighter together, shifting her hips to increase her pleasure and he laughed. ‘Open your mouth.’ And as she parted her lips he dragged her hair, tipping her head back. She could feel his hard thigh against her; feel his damp cock slide in, opening her mouth ever wider to take him. For a second she gagged as she felt his large erection against her throat. ‘Relax, open your throat, and take me.’

  His voice was soft, ragged, determined, and she felt a shiver of need. He pulled her head tighter to him, both hands holding her, sighing as he pushed deeper, then she could feel her throat tight against his head, feel the softness as she swallowed. He groaned, his grip tightening in her hair, her thighs parting as she sank beneath him, her taut nipples rubbing against his hair-covered legs, each rub sending a new frisson of delight. He eased in and out, deep into her throat, and she no longer felt like she would choke; only that she wanted him. He thrust harder; a deep, guttural sound coming from him, reverberating through her, and his cock seemed to grow. She felt panic, but he held her firm. ‘Trust me.’ The sound was harsh, through gritted teeth, and she relaxed into his hands. Then he was coming, deep spurts of warmth down her throat, a throat that tightened around him, milking his very essence.

  His hands were gentle in her hair as he pulled out of her mouth, easing her gently back upright. For a moment she thought he would untie her, but he didn’t. ‘Lick it clean.’ The order was soft but distinct. She put her tongue out, leant forward slightly, his scent filling her as she slowly lapped along his length, around his tip, feeling his semi-hard cock start to grow again as she licked. His hand dipped down, taking one heavy breast, fondling and squeezing until she moaned with pleasure, her tongue strokes lengthening in response along his shaft, the ache building between her thighs. He encouraged her to stand, led her forward, then pushed her down gently so that her front half was over the hard arm of the couch, her hands still fast behind her back. The cold leather of the couch rubbed against her nipples, which hardened as she tried to see what he was doing.

  The sudden splash of cold liquid on her back made her jump; more squirted between her bum cheeks and she clenched her buttocks as a trickle ran down between her legs. He was right beside her, one firm hand on her back so that she couldn’t get up, and his other warm hand was rapidly circling firmly, heating the oil until she felt the skin glow. He was massaging her bum with firm fingers, thumbs pressing deeply around each cheek, closer to the centre, closer to her arsehole, and her whole body seemed to melt under his touch.

  More oil dripped onto her, being rubbed with strong persuasive fingers into muscles that no longer wanted to tense. His fingers were probing; one sliding around her anus, another oil-coated finger pressing against her opening until her muscles started to give and she could feel her thighs parting as she sank against the leather. She mewed out an objection as he took his hand away, but he was just moving round to stand between her legs, and then she could hear his breath quicken as he probed and pushed more persistently against the ring of muscle. Cat wriggled her hips as the need built inside her, pushing down against the hardness she was lying on as the heat built in her pussy, still helpless with her hands tied behind her back as she moaned with want.

  ‘What a swollen, hot, wet cunt.’ She felt the pressure of his hand along her slit, then he had slid two fingers in deep, was turning and twisting them, replacing them with three. As she pushed back against his hand desperately, his other finger went deeper into her arse and then he was fucking he
r with both hands, matching the pace, the pressure, as she moaned, writhed, tried to open her hips wider, tried to push back harder.

  Abruptly he stopped; just as she felt she couldn’t stand it any longer, just as she felt the surges, the throbs start to engulf her. She could hear his ragged breathing as he fought for control, felt his hard cock twitch against her bum, felt him push against the muscle and then slowly he was edging in, giving her time to relax, to open. She gasped at the pressure, the way he stretched and filled her, then as her body got used to the strange sensation the juices started to rush to her pussy and she raised her hips, desperate for the orgasm that was so close. He swore again, gripping her hips with hands that bit into her; he pulled back slightly, then was pushing all the way past her defences, and she screamed as he plunged in deep, her pussy exploding with heavy waves of want that shook her whole body. As he plunged gently into her the waves rolled deeper into her being, rocking her, urging her on, and she was dimly aware of the drips of her own come down her thigh as he shuddered to a climax inside her.

  She could hear him panting; feel the tremble of his strong thighs against hers. When he flipped the blindfold from her eyes she kept them closed for a moment, letting the pleasure seep through her, his warm hands still gripping her hips. He eased out of her, untying her hands before slowly pulling her onto her feet and turning her, fitting her body against his. She could feel him shaking, a shake that was mirrored by hers, and she barely dared look up. When she did, the blue eyes that met hers were clear, the sweet mouth drawn into a soft smile.

  ‘Wow.’ He pulled her head against his chest, fingers massaging her scalp, playing gently with her hair. ‘I’ve never wanted to do that to anyone before and I’m so fucking glad I waited.’

  ‘Did you say you wanted to talk?’ Brent put the coffee cup down in front of her and waited. Their relationship had been about actions more than words, so after a long night of pacing the streets he’d decided maybe action was his best starting point. Her passion and her secrets were what had drawn him to Cat in the first place; he’d wanted her mind, body, and soul. Whatever it took. Now he’d unleashed some of that passion, uncovered some of her secrets. But he still wanted more. ‘How about I start? I was wrong, I know I was.’ He sat down next to her, pulled her onto his lap. ‘And I’m sorry I lied.’