Forfeit Read online

  She stuck her tongue out, feeling strangely sad as his laugh echoed hollow in her ears. Wow, so that was supposed to make her feel better? Because it didn’t.

  ‘But you’re going to sort it soon?’ She didn’t want to say the words, but couldn’t stop them. Maybe it was better knowing exactly when the end would be.

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  She shrugged. Did it matter what she wanted?

  ‘I didn’t think there was any rush.’ His voice was soft, but wary. His eyes were open now, and fixed on her. ‘Is there?’

  ‘No. No rush.’ Her hand stroked down his body, stopped at his semi-hard cock. ‘No rush at all.’

  Brent relaxed, let his body respond to her, tried to ignore the nagging voice at the back of his mind. He’d been wrong; she didn’t know what was gnawing at him. But he’d have to tell her. Soon.

  Chapter Nine

  ‘I’ll ring you as soon as the meeting’s over.’ He leant forward to kiss her, the smell of soap mingling with aftershave and sex.

  She wriggled under the covers, about to turn over so she could see him better, but he stopped her, a firm hand on her buttocks, his mouth near her ear.

  ‘You trust me?’

  ‘Mmm.’ She nodded. When hadn’t she trusted him with her body? Her mind was the problem.

  ‘You have to do everything, and I mean everything that I say. Right?’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘Right?’

  She skewed a look at the firm note in his voice. ‘Yes, Brent.’

  He smiled and gave her bum a firm slap. ‘Good girl.’

  Cat felt restless once he’d gone. Before this whole forfeit thing had kicked in she’d started to get a bit bored when he wasn’t around and on edge when he was. She’d been glad in a way that soon the marriage would be over and she could get her life back. Her normal life. She’d packed in her job when she became his wife, and that, along with all the other pre-conditions, had left her twitchy and purposeless, which wasn’t what she was used to at all. She was used to being in control and filling her time; a million miles from the Stepford Wife-type life she’d been dropped into. It had been her choice, her head ruling her heart, and it had ground her life to a halt. Her decision not to take what was on offer; which had been one helluva waste of a year of her life.

  She’d had a perfect life of nothing. True, he’d encouraged her to go to the gym, to spend his money on whatever other luxuries she fancied, like having her nails done. But she didn’t go out, except with him. And during the first 11 months of their marriage going out had pretty much just been obligatory socialising with colleagues.

  True, he had at first made an effort to make their marriage more normal, but she had been concentrating so hard on fighting the urges her body had every time he was within range of her radar that she sometimes felt she didn’t have any fight left in her. To agree to spend more time with him had been a risk she hadn’t been prepared to take. Something that now that seemed like a distant ridiculous memory, and made going back to a normal life seem even more ridiculous.

  Then there had been the last few days. Just him and her. And sex. Solid, wall to wall sex. Which was fine, more than fine. Except sometimes she couldn’t help wonder what a normal life with him would have been like. Not a polite, arranged, asexual marriage, and not a sensual, mindblowing, non-stop orgy. Just life. And then she wondered why she was bothering wondering. When, luckily, her mobile bleeped and gave her a reason to stop thinking the unthinkable.

  She’d said she wanted normality, wanted to be out and about, so why did she feel so damned nervous? Cat pulled the convertible up in front of the hotel address he’d texted her. Yeah, this was definitely it, but it was far more imposing than she’d imagined. But then Brent liked imposing, didn’t he? And he liked nice hotels, which she knew from the last time; the time when he’d had her pinned up against that window, spread-eagled and panting for the whole world to see.

  She swallowed hard, trying to dampen the excitement that already drifted through her body like a sea mist. Insidious, inescapable, permeating every pore. She swung her bare legs out of the car, half glad of the skirt he’d told her to wear, the soft material draping her bare thighs, letting the gentle breeze cool her overheated body. Overheated imagination, more like. She straightened up, locking the car and staring up at the hotel.

  Go inside, he’d texted, walk through to the back of the lobby and sit in the large leather armchair across from the bar. So she did. And ordered the drink he’d instructed, and waited.

  I’ve always wanted to shag you in this bar. The text sent a shudder through her mobile, and her body; both reverberating at the message. Shit, he wasn’t going to just come in, pin her against this hard leather and force himself between her thighs right now, was he? Not here in this hotel lobby, a place which reeked of wealth and achievement?

  She settled further back into the spacious chair and took a gulp of the cold drink. He couldn’t. Could he?

  It’s the best martini in town, isn’t it? Her hand shook slightly as she read the words. And then the mobile rang and she jumped, a splash of martini dripping cold against her breasts.

  ‘Sorry, darling, didn’t mean to startle you.’ His voice in her ear was as intimate as if he’d been there and Cat glanced round. He wasn’t there. But how did he know? ‘I did startle you, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yup.’ She looked round again, half-expecting him to walk out from behind the pillar, but he didn’t. God, she was jumpy. Why was she so jumpy? She took another gulp of the drink.

  ‘I’m going to tell you what I’ve imagined you and me doing in this bar, right there where you’re sitting now.’ His voice wrapped round her senses as she sat back in the large leather chair, half-shielded from the world. She shut her eyes, ran her tongue over dry lips. ‘I walk in across the lobby and I can just see your ankle at the side of the chair, your slim ankle and those wicked heels. I love it when you’re wearing those sexy high heels. I get closer and gradually see more of you, Cat, as I walk round, and you’re sat in that chair, my chair, sipping your drink. Take a sip, Cat.’ She raised the glass to her mouth again, her hand trembling. ‘I love to see your red lips move, Cat, love the way they part. I can imagine those lips round my cock and it makes me hard, really hard, just to think of you sucking me, licking me with a tongue that’s still cold from the ice in your drink. You take another sip and you’ve not seen me yet. You tip your head up slightly, exposing that gorgeous throat.’ She swallowed a larger gulp of the martini down nervously. ‘Your throat ripples, contracts as you swallow, and I can imagine you swallowing me as I come in your throat, Cat. I can imagine shooting my load straight down and you’re swallowing and milking every last bit of me.’ She swallowed again at the rough edge to his voice; put the empty glass down with a clatter on the glass-topped table, not trusting herself to hold it. ‘You suddenly realise I’m there, Cat, and you look up, watch me walk over to you and your lips are parted slightly. You look so sexy in that short skirt, those long legs spread, and I’m wondering what it will feel like to have those high heels against my back as you beg for more.’

  She heard a creak of his chair, imagined him leaning back as she clutched the mobile against her ear. ‘I get closer to you and you open your legs so that I can stand between them. Open them for me, Cat.’ She hesitated. ‘Now.’ She parted her thighs, looking round to check that no one was watching. ‘Good girl. I’m pushing your legs wider and standing between them, Cat, and you’ve made me so hard that you can see my erection straining through my trousers and you want to reach up and touch me so much.’ She could hear him undoing his zip and she ran her tongue over her lips, aware of her breath quickening, of the heat already spreading through her. ‘I undo my zip and my cock is so hard, so ready for you that there’s a dribble of come glistening on the end. I lean closer to you and you lift your head so you can reach me. I can smell the leather and I can smell your juices. Can you smell me, Cat, can you smell how much I want you?’

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nbsp; ‘Yes.’ She gasped, closing her eyes, and she could see him standing there, towering above her, his hard cock glistening, and her mouth started to water.

  ‘You run your tongue over the end of my dick, coating it in my come and the dampness from your mouth.’ He groaned and she knew he was stroking his cock. Her pussy clenched in response. ‘What does it taste like, Cat?’

  ‘Sweet.’ She licked her lips again, properly this time, ‘Salty.’ God, was that her voice? Husky, wanting, as though he stood there, about to pound her.

  ‘Do you like it, Cat?’

  She nodded, whispered. ‘It’s turning me on. I want to taste you, I want to be licking you.’

  ‘You’re licking me and I tangle my fingers in your hair, so I can hold you just where I want you, and I put my other hand on your thigh, your lovely, soft, warm thigh. Put your hand there for me now, Cat, put your hand on your thigh and imagine it’s mine.’ She stroked her hand lightly along from her knee, up her inner thigh, her fingers dancing as his did, feeling her juices run, knowing her knickers were already sodden. ‘Higher, Cat, stroke higher, all that way up that gorgeous thigh, all the way up to the top. Can you do that for me?’

  Cat moaned as she stroked up her thigh, her legs parting wider under her skirt, her fingers brushing against the soft cotton of her knickers, feeling the dampness.

  ‘Slip your fingers into your knickers, into your pussy, darling. Are you wet?’

  ‘Yes.’ She gave a long drawn out shudder as she probed her slick, hot core.

  ‘How many fingers, Cat?’

  ‘Two.’ She gasped.

  ‘Put three in there. Imagine my three fingers pushing into that wet pussy. And while my hands are in your knickers I’m pushing my cock harder into your mouth and your tongue is circling the tip of me. You’re wrapping your lips round my hard cock, sliding them up and down.’ She could hear the catch in his voice, knew he had his hand on his cock, his fingers sliding up and down. ‘I’m pushing it into your mouth, holding your head tight, my fingers pulling at your hair, and I’m pushing my finger into your pussy, rubbing your clit with my thumb as you move your hips. Are you doing that, Cat? Do that for me darling.’

  Cat pushed her own fingers deep inside, circling, her thumb rubbing her swollen clit as the imagined taste of him deep inside her throat turned her on. She moaned, pushing her head back against the chair, feeling her pussy clenching around her hand, the juices running down into her palm.

  ‘There’s people coming into the lobby, checking in, but it doesn’t matter. I can see them over the high back of the chair and they don’t know that I’m buried deep in that gorgeous throat and I’m finger-fucking you.’ Cat groaned, dimly aware of the sound of voices in the background, not caring if it was fantasy or real as her pussy trembled and pulsed. She could hear him pulling at his cock. ‘I’m coming, Cat, your throat is squeezing my cock and I’m spreading my fingers in that hot, wet pussy; you’re so fucking wet, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yees.’ She knew the strangled moan was hers as she fought for breath, panting, not wanting to speak, just wanting to come.

  ‘Rub that clit, Cat, rub for me, push those fingers hard, twist your hand, fuck yourself like I want to.’ He was panting, she was panting, pressing her clit, imagining his thumb pressing hard on the boundary between pain and pleasure, those knowing fingers tightening, massaging her G-spot, and then she was coming, she was pulsing, gripping her fingers. ‘Come for me, baby, you come as I force my cock deep into your throat and I’m gripping your head and your sweet throat is milking every bit of me. I’m coming with you, Cat.’ And she knew he was; she could hear the guttural sound as he exploded and she could almost taste him as she swallowed convulsively, her throat working as her pussy squeezed and milked at her fingers.

  ‘Afternoon. Are you OK?’

  Cat jumped. Her hand was still damp on her thigh, and for a moment she stared unseeing at the man who nodded at her as he passed the high seat on the way to the bar, aware of her pussy still trembling from her orgasm. She swallowed, trying to talk normally. ‘Fine. Thanks.’ She straightened her skirt over her thighs, still gripping the mobile against her ear, wondering if he could smell the sweet aroma of her juices.

  ‘That was beautiful, darling.’ Then the phone clicked and she was left clutching it and crossing her legs, wondering what the hell had just happened to her. Phone sex she’d heard of, and for the first time in her life she’d found out just how good it could be.

  She heard his key turn in the clock and her nerves clicked to attention. How the hell had he managed to do that? Turn her into a quivering mess of expectation, like some virgin on a first date? She really, really wasn’t a virgin and it so wasn’t a first date. But somehow her pussy was as wet as if she’d not been touched for weeks, and her stomach was flipping cartwheels as though she was about to spontaneously combust.

  She stood by the edge of the bed, as he’d told her to, listened as the sound of his footsteps grew closer, closer. And then he was there, in the doorway, his shirt sleeves rolled up over those strong broad forearms. He pulled his tie off deliberately, throwing it to one side, and looked at her silently. Slowly undid the top two buttons of his shirt so she could see the inviting V of soft brown skin that she loved the salty taste of, just enough so she could see the first of the dark hairs that she knew spread and thickened as they led down his body. His eyes seemed to pierce through the pink satin of the basque, coating her body in heat, stirring her nipples, which had been barely visible until then, so they peaked through the fabric hugging her.

  ‘Good.’ He nodded, slowly, and she wetted suddenly dry lips. ‘Turn round.’ She turned to face the bed. Heard him take a step closer, run his hand over her barely covered arse, sending a shiver through her. He stroked over her cheek, his fingers teasing the lace that edged her knickers, sliding under the silky material and probing between her legs until he could feel the moisture that coated her.

  ‘Nice.’ His breath was soft against the back of her neck, setting up a fine prickle of awareness. She gasped as one finger edged inside her, and then, before her muscles could contract around him in pleasure, he removed it, running his hand instead over the sensitive skin of her thigh above her stocking top. ‘Lean forward a bit.’ She leant slightly, putting her weight on her arms on the bed, feeling her pussy clench as he ran a hand up each thigh, strong, firm thumbs on the trembling softness inside. His laugh sent a new shiver through her as he edged her thighs slightly wider apart, then his hands had reached round and he was pushing the mix of pink satin and black lace down under her breasts to free them. ‘I love your breasts, I want to see them move, want to imagine my thick cock between them.’

  His body was pressed against hers, the harsh fabric of his clothes rubbing against her smoothness, tantalising her nerve-endings. She felt the hard coldness of his belt buckle against her back, the heat of his erection pushing between the cheeks of her bum. Fresh darts of want shot straight down between her legs and she whimpered as she felt her pussy clench. His mouth was hot between her shoulder blades as he kissed her, then used his tongue to make a wet trail across her back.

  ‘But you’ve been a naughty girl again, haven’t you, and I warned you, didn’t I?’ He pulled away from her and she went to turn her head. ‘Don’t move.’ The command stopped her in her tracks. ‘I warned you, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes.’ The word came out as a barely recognisable squeak.

  ‘And what happens to naughty girls?’

  Christ she needed him, now, or something. Anything. She shifted her weight slightly, desperate to reach down and touch her throbbing clit, but he seemed to read her intentions immediately. ‘I didn’t give you permission to move, did I?’ His voice was still soft, but the words held a silky warning and she gripped the bedcover with hands that she wanted so much to use on her own body. ‘Now, what happens?’

  ‘They get spanked?’ The strangled words edged out.

  ‘Exactly. Good girl.’ He rubbed between her legs wit
h a firm hand and she pushed back. ‘Naughty.’ The sharp slap came from nowhere and she yelped with a mix of pain and shock. ‘I will tell you when you can move and I will tell you when you can come, understood?’

  She nodded mutely, gritting her teeth. God, she needed to come. She closed her eyes, squeezed the muscles of her cunt; maybe if she thought about what was happening, about his hard dick forcing its way inside her, she could come without being touched, without him knowing.

  ‘I think you’re being naughty again.’ He clamped his hand over her mound, squeezing hard, the heel of his hand pressing firmly against her swollen labia. She could dimly hear him unzipping his trousers as he pressed again, harder, and she panted as she fought the urge to grind herself against him, knowing that her thighs were drenched with the juices he created every time he touched her. He dipped one finger inside her knickers, his knuckles hard against her, and then he was pulling them down with a roughness that made her squeak an objection, ripping the delicate fabric with a sound that sparked new need deep inside her.

  ‘You know why you’re being punished, don’t you?’ He ran a finger slowly down her slit and, as she gasped, her whole body contracted.

  ‘I’ve been naughty.’ God, it was difficult to talk, to stay still.

  ‘Very. Now remind me what you did.’

  She swallowed. ‘I …’

  ‘Go on, I’m waiting.’ His mouth was near her ear, his voice dangerously low, and she shuddered again. ‘You went out on your own, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I went to a hotel for a drink.’

  ‘But you didn’t just have a drink, did you?’

  ‘I played with myself.’ Just thinking about it, about his voice on the phone, silky in her ear, made her heart beat faster.

  ‘You fingered yourself in public without me there to watch?’

  ‘Yes.’ Heat rushed to her face as she thought about the man who had spoken to her while her hand was still wet from her come, still up inside her skirt, her nipples hard and obvious as she lay in the leather chair, buzzing from her orgasm.