Lily Evans - Unruly Urges

“So which Stephenson are you?”

“Tobias.” The gravelly, raspy, deliciously deep texture of his voice is naturally sensual. “ Ohmygosh,” I exclaim, my fingers curl around the edge of my kitchen counter. “Tobias! Oh, wow. Tobias.” I wet my lips, my breathing fast.

“The one and only, Meg gie.” “I take it by that reaction that you haven’t forgotten me.”

“No.” Good one, Meg. I raise my chin, my senses whirling. “That would be a little difficult. Considering that I gave you something kinda important.” My eyes narrow.

“Don’t worry, Meggie.” I feel the sensual heat radiating from his words. “I remember exactly what you gave me.”

“So what have you been up to?” I work desperately at changing the subject.

“College.” I can hear the pride in his voice. “Took over the family business about four years ago.”

“That’s pretty cool.”

“I think so.”

His voice has a commanding presence over the phone, his confidence ratchets up my arousal. “Is there anyone available to see what’s up with my air conditioner?”

“Oh, that’s right, you did call for a reason, didn’t you, Meggie.”

“That I did.” My laugh sounds nervous to my own ears. Keep it cool, Meg.

“I’m not busy right now.”

My heart stops beating for a minute. My hand flies to my chest and l lay my palm flat to make sure it’s still working. Suddenly I’m a ball of nerves.

“Okay.”

“What’s your address?”

I give it to him.

“I can be there in about twenty to thirty minutes.”

“Sounds good.”

“See ya in a few.”

Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!

I race up the stairs, strip out of my clothes and jump in the shower to rinse off the ten layers of sweat that accumulated this morning.

Standing under the water does nothing to cool the hot blood racing through my veins. My nipples are still hard peaks, my labia feels puffy, swollen and needy. I reach between my legs to feel my clit poking out of its hood, engorged and begging for relief.

I close my eyes and my vision swims remembering the boy he was. Tall, lanky, not yet filled out completely, but definite potential.

My fingers slide through my slick slit, grazing every few swipes over my clit and sending powerful shoots of electricity to my toes.

I allow my fingers to circle the sensitive opening to my body. I thrust in two fingers, imagining his thick cock impaling me. Reaching for the spot. The one that makes me feel so good.

Knowing my time is limited; I slide my fingers free and rub my clit in quick circles. Round and round feeling the distended flesh growing harder and harder with each pass. My body writhes against the movements, responding to my touch. Begging for more. Seeking release, swift and hard.

My moans are low and throaty as I urgently reach for the orgasm that’s building fast. Nothing else matters in the next few minutes, but my orgasm.

My hand cups my right breast, squeezing, kneading the firm globe. My forefinger and thumb pinch and pull, tweaking my rigid nipple as my fingers circle faster and faster over my engorged clit.

Come on. Come on. Come on. That’s it. I feel it at the base of my spine and in my curled toes as I press my hips into my hand. My nipples bunch even tighter with each bite of pain making my hips thrust forward. Rub, rub, rub. Flick, flick, flick and I cry out on a groan, my stomach clenching as waves of pleasure wash over me along with the water from my shower.

Slumping against the cool tiles of the shower stall, I catch my breath before standing back under the hard spray and rinse once more.

“Better than I remembered.” He steps through the door, his large body almost blocking out the sun.

“Well, hello to you, too.” I step back so he can enter trying with great difficulty to still the muscles in my belly that jumped the minute my eyes locked with his. This is going to be the longest day of my life.

I give myself permission to stare. To take in everything about him. He looks basically the same as I remember, only bigger. Same deep, dark brown eyes, almost black at times. Same cocky grin. Maybe a few inches taller. Definitely well-over six foot. But the things that have changed about him are magnificent.

Delicious.

Yummy.

Mouth-watering.

I swallow and rub my damp hands on my shorts. Deep in my belly, excitement flickers to life.

His shoulders are wide. As spectacular as any football player I’ve ever seen. His pecs are lip-smacking bunches of muscles that are only emphasized by his standard grey cotton buttoned-down work shirt. His biceps are massive, stretching the material at his sleeves and accentuating their thickness. Narrow waist, flat stomach, lean hips, and an ass to die for.

I feel light-headed. It’s either from the lack of cool air or the immense heat he brought into my condo with his hot body.

“Toby?”

A slow wicked grin widens his very kissable mouth. “The one and only.”

I drag in one breath after the other as I struggle to speak. “Wow.”

His brow lifts appreciatively. “Ditto.” His eyes travel over my thin cotton tank and short shorts.

I cross my arms over my chest. A defensive gesture, but also to hide my turgid nipples. I grin. “Another Daddyism?”

He groans at his corniness. “Yeah.”

“Damn, Toby.” I shake my head back and forth in slow arcs. “You sure grew up nice.”

He didn’t waste any time telling me how good he must have thought I looked, his hands curled around my upper arms and pulled me up on my tiptoes as his mouth captures mine, barely leashing his desire.

Tongues, teeth, lips all smash together. Saliva swaps from his mouth to mine and back again in the erotic exchange. My teeth nip at his bottom lip, biting down, eliciting a deep groan from his throat just as I draw the firm yet pillowy softness of that same lip deep into my mouth and suck.

“Do it, Toby,” I whisper against his mouth. “Fuck me. Please.” I know I’m begging, but I feel so desperate, so needy, so horny. And he’s so fuckable. So larger than life hot. Fantasy land, make my pussy drip in two seconds flat hot. I nearly laugh as the thought enters my head, God, I am a fucking slut.

He lifts me up with very little effort with those gorgeous muscles. My legs wrap around his waist as he carries me to the couch and sits me on the arm.

My fingers make quick work of the buttons running down his shirt. I run my fingers over the ridges of his abs, up over the delicious swells of his pecs that make the spit in my mouth dry up, over his large rounded shoulders and push his shirt down his arms.

Leaning forward, I run my tongue from his left nipple, down the carved valley that separates the two halves of his torso until reaching his belly button and thrust the pointed tip of my tongue in and out before swirling it round and round.

“You’re delicious.” My forehead falls forward against the solid wall of his stomach.

“I’m sweaty,” he growls.

“Marinated in delicious manliness, is more like it.” My tongue flicks out to gather some more of his salty goodness.

“God that’s so hot.” He leans back and pushes me forward. I fall back against the cushions. My hips still lifted high in the air by the arm of the couch.

His large hands grip my hips with his strong fingers. He leans down and runs his nose up and down my crotch, inhaling the tang of my arousal.

Putting his fingers in the waistband of my shorts, he tugs them over my hips and tosses them on the floor. His big hands slide between my legs pushing them wide.

Pulling out his wallet, he removes a condom and lays it on my stomach. The wrapper sticks to the sheen of sweat coating my skin.

“How long have you lived here, Meggie?” He asks as he unbuckles his belt with a quick flick of his fingers, releases the button, and quickly yanks down the zipper with a loud rasp allowing his pants to slide over the lean muscles of his hips and catch on the bunched up muscles of his thighs.