Forfeit by Zara Stoneley

Hi Lily, Thanks for having me here!

Forfeit is my first erotic romance and I’ve been asked by a few people what inspired it, why a forfeit?
When I started writing, it was with a lot of ‘what ifs’. There are lots of boy meet girl books, and a lot of arranged marriage stories but I wanted to go one step further. They fall in love, but why? Lust, great chemistry, great sex, admiration… but what if one of the people involved is determined to uncover every last secret that the other person is hiding, what if he knows, just knows that there is a magical person behind the barriers that he really wants – what if he’s only going to settle for the real deal? And how far will the girl go? What if by gradually uncovering her sexuality it leads to uncovering her emotions, her wants and her needs?

I think quite often we separate love and lust, we think that yeah there’ll be lust then that dies down and if we’re lucky something stronger called love replaces it. But what if the lust is the important thing? The catalyst for digging deep down into those emotions – after all it’s when we have sex with another person that we’re at our most vulnerable, our most exposed… and what if it isn’t the falling in love that means we can share our bodies and our lust, but the falling in lust that leaves the way open to love?

Blurb

Cat’s life is falling apart – her boyfriend’s dumped her, she’s lost her home and she’s about to quit her job. Her boss, Brent, has a solution: become his wife for a year, to help him land a big promotion. But Cat’s had a taste of Brent before, and she knows he’s a bad boy who loves women and leaves them. So she agrees to marry him, but tells him there’s to be no sex. He adds his own condition: if she as much as talks to another man in that time, she must pay, by acting out 12 of Brent’s kinkiest sex fantasies. When she breaks the rule, the forfeit is on: but opening up and letting Brent into her heart, as well as her bed, could be the most dangerous game of all …

Excerpt

He tore his mouth from hers, and there was a rawness on his face that stopped her in her tracks for a moment.
‘You are so bloody gorgeous, Cat, why on earth did that bastard ever let you go?’
Brent had spoken without thinking, but the second the words were out he felt her body tense as she pulled back mentally, the shutters coming down. Shit. He cringed inwardly. Way to go, Brent, nothing like being subtle. Where the fuck had that come from? How could he be so stupid? But for some mad moment he’d thought he needed to know how any man could push her away.
‘I’m sorry.’ Even as he spoke and she looked at him with those big eyes he knew he’d overstepped a mark. And then, after a moment’s hesitation, the look of anguish seemed to melt from her features, replaced by a small, rueful smile. She moved back an inch closer. An inch that was a mile.
‘He said I was a whore and he wanted a wife.’
‘Did you want to be a wife?’ There was a rock in the bottom of his stomach; he couldn’t see her being anyone else’s wife.
‘Well, I didn’t want to be a whore, let’s put it that way.’ She had a strange, endearing quirk to her mouth, as though she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.
‘We were engaged; wedding bells ringing in the distance, y’know, the full works. Then he discovered I wasn’t the type of woman he wanted to sit in church on a Sunday with his mum.’
‘Church, you? Now that I’d like to see.’ He grinned and she grinned back.
‘My favourite place on a Sunday, I’ll have you know.’
‘What the hell did you do to him, Cat?’ Cat was as passionate as hell, but with a mixture of “don’t touch me” messages and a vulnerability that said she knew what she was doing but wasn’t sure if she ought. Maybe he shouldn’t ask, but something about her said she was ready. She’d talk.
‘I offered to suck his dick.’ She shrugged, her voice low, circling her ring finger with a nervous, unconscious gesture. ‘I thought it might help.’
‘You can suck mine anytime, sweetheart.’
‘You’re so kind.’ Her tone was dry, but stronger. ‘But I don’t think you have any problems keeping a hard-on.’
‘Hard, soft, I’m always open to a blowjob, baby.’ She laughed then, throwing her head back, and his groin tightened instinctively. ‘Jeez, especially with a gorgeous throat like that.’
‘Christ, you are crude.’
‘Nothing crude about coming nice and deep inside a beautiful throat.’ He edged closer to her so that he could whisper in her ear. Watch the way the goosebumps came up and her nipples tightened. ‘Have you ever had a cock all the way down your throat, Cat? So deep that your muscles can tighten round the head, can milk every last drop from it?’ His cock was straining against his zip; it felt good and it felt like hell. He was torturing himself in the same way he loved to tease and torture her, and if she touched him right now it would tip him over the point of no return. He’d just wanted to have a chat, pleasant not horny, but this needed sorting. A girl like Cat deserved a man who’d appreciate everything she offered, not make her feel cheap. She was dirty, but in such a good way, and any creep who told her to hide it should be shot.
She turned her head slightly, so that her hair brushed his face, the soft silk smelling of citrus and flowers and making him desperate to push closer to her so he could pick out every single note. ‘No, I’ve never had a cock deep inside my throat, Brent.’
His throat constricted at the way her husky voice said his name, the reminder of the last time when she screamed it out as she came.
‘I’ve never even sucked a cock before yours in that hotel, never really wanted to.’ She looked him straight in the eye, her pupils so large and black they seemed to flood her face. ‘The smell put me off.’ She screwed up her little nose as though remembering. ‘I just thought maybe I should, then found out maybe I shouldn’t.’
‘Oh, you should, you really should.’ He ran his tongue over her lips, watching them part in anticipation.
‘And it won’t make me a whore?’ The husky throatiness of her voice caught in his gut. If he got any harder he’d be bursting out like the Incredible Hulk, which wouldn’t look good on the CCTV camera he’d just spotted.
‘Nothing you could do would make you a whore, my sex kitten, if you’re doing it with me.’ He took her hand from his thigh and brushed his lips against the knuckles. ‘What does my smell do to you?’
He could have sworn he saw a shiver run through her, and her voice when it came had that torn edge telling him she wanted him. ‘Your smell -’ she ran her tongue over already damp lips ‘- makes me want you.’
‘Does it make you wet?’ She squirmed as he whispered against her mouth. ‘I think you’re getting all damp now, aren’t you?’
She hadn’t answered but she didn’t need her to; her nipples were jutting against her top. He pulled back slightly, knowing that if he didn’t he’d be tempted to tear that skimpy top clean off and to hell with CCTV and anyone who might be watching. ‘Have you never heard the saying that a perfect wife should be a chef in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom?’
‘Oh, I don’t think I’m interested in the chef bit.’ Her eyes had a dangerous gleam as she laughed, and then she wetted her lips with a tongue he could think of a hundred better uses for. And one very good use right now.
‘Well, I’ve got news for you. We’re heading home and cooking. Together. And then -’ he started the key in the car ignition ‘- we’ll see just how much of a whore you can be in the bedroom.’ He ran his hand gently over her bare knee, watching with satisfaction at the way she clamped her thighs together.
‘Would you like me to put my knickers back on for the cooking bit?’ Her voice was all sweet innocence and he groaned, resisting the urge to run his hand up the inside of her thigh and check out just how wet she was. Sweet Jesus, he’d been sat in a car with aching balls next to a girl with a damp, ready mouth and no knickers. And he’d done nothing about it. Which was something he needed to remedy, and fast.




Available from - Xcite Books,  Amazon (UK),  Amazon (US), Barnes & Noble,  All Romance and all other good e-book sellers.

About the author

Zara is a writer and lover of all things romantic, from the sensual to the sexual, who knows that naughty can be nice. She lives in the UK, but whenever she can she heads off in search of some sunshine and inspiration for her stories.

She loves sexy high heels...good food....good wine....music...coffee (lots and lots of coffee)... and Italy. All things Italian from the countryside to the culture, the wine to the food...and of course the sexy men.

She's been a consultant, a teacher, a mother, a wife, a lover... and has always been a writer and she'd love to hear from you.

Where you can find her-


Blog: http://zarastoneley.blogspot.co.uk/
Twitter:  @ZaraStoneley
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ZaraStoneley
Email – zarastoneley@gmail.com