Unruly Urges (4 page)

“Don’t stop.”

“I won’t, baby.”

“Oh, God,” she cries.  “I’m coming.”

Lowering my head to suckle on her left breast, I draw it deep in my mouth and within seconds she shatters.  Her soft whimpers only increase my already strained control.

I pull my leg from between her thighs,
kn
o
w
ing she can’t
support her own weight
.  She sags and I
catch her
, clasping her tightly
against my chest.  I lift her chin and capture her mouth in a deep, demanding kiss, my tongue deep in her hot mouth where I wanted and knew my dick would be in a matter of moments.

“Now suck my di
ck.”

She drops to her knees without protest.

“See jeans were a good choice for tonight.”  I stroke the top of her head.  “I wouldn’t want your pretty, little knees to get scrape
d
on the hard ground.”

She quivers beneath my hand.  As she closes her right hand around my cock my knees nearly buckle.  She strokes me hard a couple of times before burying her face
between my legs and run
ning
her tongue down the crease of my
crotch
.  Her hair slid
es
sensually over my jutting cock
as she gathers it in her hand, she slowly winds it around my cock
.
  She wraps her hand over her hair and my cock and glides up and down my length. 

“Does that feel good, baby?”  She practically purrs as my cock swells in her hand.

I
suck
in a shallow breath.  “Damn good.”  A bead of sweat trickles down from my hairline.  “Suck it, baby.”

Her breathing is uneven as her tongue flicks out to capture the drop on the tip before
open
ing
her mouth wide and immedia
tely sucking me deep.  Deeper and deeper still until my
cock is
against the back of her throat
.  Her tongue laves and swirls, circling the ridge around the crown, pressing in and out of the slit on the tip.

I bury my hands deep in her hair, holding her head steady while she takes my balls in her soft palm, squeezing, rolling, and weighing them until they start to draw up tight against my body as she slurps my cock wetting it with her saliva and swallowing it again. 

She sucks on me, nibbles on me, licks me
.  My head falls back on my shoulders. 
God, can she suck a mean dick. 
“Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth.

I grab her hair and push my cock deep, near
ly groaning as her throat works
around the head.  “Now hurry it up so I can get you home and
fill your sweet pussy with my dic
k.”

“Hmm…” she grips the base of my cock with her tiny hand and bobs her head up and down, her nostrils flaring, and high-pitched pants coming from between her lips and my cock. 

I’m close
; my ragged breathing betrays me
.  “Deep, Nina,” I growl
after a few deep breaths
.  “Suck me deep, Nina.”  I stroke her shoulder.  “Later I’m going to fuck your hot cunt with my big dick.”
Her hair h
angs
around her face hiding her emotions.  I gather it in one fist and twist until her face his visible.  She looks up through her lashes, her eyes wide, her face flushed and I’m done. 
The sight of her hallowed out cheeks and swollen lips glistening with saliva do it for me.

I come with a guttural groan
, the hot spurts of my come slide down her throat and she doesn’t stop until every last drop is accounted for.

I let my spent cock slide from her mouth.
  “Your place or mine?”

“Ours.” 

“Perfect.”

I stuff my cock into my jeans and put my arm around her shoulder.  We walk to the curb and I hail a cab. 

She
snuggls
against my side, squirming on the seat. 

“What are you doing?”  I put my forefinger beneath her chin and lift her face so I can see her expression.

“I’m dying to come again,” she says in a loud whisper.

I look up with a grin when the cab driver clears his throat loudly.  We lock eyes in the rearview mirror and I raise one eyebrow.  He turns away and I swear I can see a slight redness in his cheeks.

Tension is rampant in the backseat of the cab.  Her arousal, as well as mine, is readily apparent in the confines of the small, enclosed space.

I thrust my hand between her legs and tap rhythmically against her pussy.  “When we get home I’m going to burn every pair of pants and jeans you own.”

She pulls back.  “You wouldn’t dare!”  I can’t help but smile at the shocked look on her face.

I press my lips to her ear.  “If I have my say, you’ll never cover your delicious cunt again.”  I thrust my tongue into her ear and swirl it around before gently biting on her lobe.

“We’re here,” the driver calls over his shoulder.

We scramble out of the cab and rush toward our apartment, falling in the door once it’s unlocked. 

I push her up against the wall, rip at the button of her jeans, and shove them down at the same time she’s working at my fly and releasing my cock. 

She loops her arms around my neck and practically crawls on my body to wrap her legs around my waist.  I reach between us to slide my fingers between her swollen labia and groan aloud at the thick cream that greets my fingertips.  “Thank the lord.”

“I told you I was horny.”  The fingers of her left hand bite into my shoulder while her right hand guides the head of my pulsing cock to her slick opening.  “I need your cock.”

“You’ve got it.”  I lean my forehead against hers.  “You weren’t kidding, love.”  I sigh as her velvety channel swallows my weeping cock hungrily.

I grip her hips and lift and lower her over my hard dick, her head thrown back, her lower lip caught enticingly between her teeth and soft squeaks huffing out as I slide her up and down my dick. 

“I’m too…” she murmurs.  “I can’t take much more.” 

“Come, baby,” I give her permission.  My skin feels stretched taut over my cheeks as her pussy grips me tight with the fluttery pulses of her muscles as she starts to let go.  I place my left hand under her ass to give her more leverage and lean in pressing her against the wall and my chest.  My lips wrapped around her throat and my teeth sink into the tendons as I suck her sweet taste into my mouth.

“Let go, Nina.”  I hold her still and thrust deep.  Reaching between our sweaty bodies, I flick her clit with the tip of my finger and she gasps, thrashing, bouncing harder and harder.  Her heels biting into my low-back, but I can care less.  She wants it and I’m going to give everything to her.  I let her writhe over me until she comes apart in my arms.

“Come on, baby.”  I lick and suck her throat as I cup her ass.  

She rides through the waves of her orgasm, milking my cock with each spasm that starts deep in her pussy as I pump my cock and not two seconds later I come hard.  And we both collapse in the foyer of our apartment. 

My arms fasten around her waist, my head cushioned by the pillow softness of her breasts.

“How’s that for fantasy, babe?”

“Meet a tall, dark, gorgeous ‘stranger’ in a bar and fuck him senseless?”  My head rises and falls with her deep inhale. 

I can’t help but chuckle.  “Yeah, that’s the one.”   

Hunger gleams in her eyes.  “Done and done.”  She sighs.  “Check that one off my bucket list.”

I pull back and kiss her, deeply.  My perfect stranger. 

TOO HOT TO HANDLE

M
y lips curls as
I gingerly hold the phone away from my ear to avoid it sticking to my sweaty cheek. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do, Ethan?” 

             
“Of course I remember the Stephenson’s
.”
  I remember the Stephenson’s
.  I lean back against my kitchen counter, the excessive heat almost all but forgotten with the mention of that last name. 
Do I ever remember that name.
  My legs turn to jelly so I sit down hard on my large leather ottoman.  My sweat slicked legs stick uncomfortably to the leather.  I stand back up again, my lip curled.  High school.  Hot summer night.  Lake.  Blanket.  Virginity. 
Oh, I remember.

             
My eyes widen.  “Oh, that’s right.”  I roll my eyes, sigh, and shake my head all at the same time.  “Thank God they do heating and air.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Well, do you have their number?”  I roll my eyes again.  “Yes, you’re the best big brother in the world, Ethan.” 
Not if my sarcastic, monotone deliver
y has anything to say with it.

“Of course I mean it.”  My mouth curls up in a silly smile.

“Give me a minute to find some paper and a pen.”  I give up and hold the phone between my moist shoulder and ear, digging around in the kitchen junk drawer for the supplies I need.  “Uh, huh.”  I write.  “Got it!”

“Love you, too,” I reply sincerely.  “Kiss, kiss.”  I make enthusiastic kissing noises into the phone.  “See
ya
later.”  I wait for Ethan to disconnect, then I immediately dial the repairman.

Come on, come on,
come
on. 
I tap my bare foot impatiently on the cool black and white tiles of my kitchen floor waiting for someone, anyone, to answer the phone.  I study my toes calculatingly. 
I really should refresh my toenail
polish
.
  I wiggle my toes around contemplating the next color. 
Why does every business on the face of the earth have such horrendous hold music?
I stick my tongue out at one of the fat chefs that hang on my sunflower yellow walls.  A shudder rolls over my shoulders as Frank Sinatra croons about
New York, New York. 

I glance at the clock on the wall.  Fifteen minutes?  Has the whole world’s air gone out today?  I know.  I know Frank.  I’d start spreading the news that my air is out if someone would pick up the
godda
….

“Oh, thank God.”  I groan aloud, my shoulders slump in obvious relief.

A laugh rumbles in my ear.  “You sound desperate.”  If I wasn’t so uncomfortable right now, the sound of his voice would stir my juices perfectly. It’s deep and dark and full of all kinds of wicked promises.

“I am!”  I mop the sweat from my brow with a new paper towel.  An entire roll lay in a damp heap on the kitchen counter near the sink. 

“What can I do for you?”  The deliciously deep voice asks.

My nipples pucker into hard peaks at all the things he could do for me.  My hand finds my left breast, my thumb flicking over the distended nub.  “My air went out during the middle of the night and I’m dying in here.” 

“Luckily you called the right place.”

“My brother gave me your number.” 

“Who’s your brother?”

“Ethan Jamison.”

“Well, damn.”  I can hear the smile in his voice.  “I haven’t seen Ethan in years.”

“Yeah, he reminded me that your family was in the heating and air business.”

“I remember Ethan had three little sisters.”  He paused.  “Which one are you?”

“Meghan.”  I take a deep breath.  “I’m the baby.”

“Meghan.” 

“Yeah, Meghan.”

“Damn,” he answers.  “You were such a hot little thing.”

I snort.  “Maybe I’m still a hot little thing.”

“Are you?”

I roll my eyes again.  I can hear the chuckle in his voice.  “I don’t know.”  I shrug.  “Sure.”  I rock back and forth on the balls and heels of my feet.  “I guess that’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“That’s beauty.”  He chuckles.

“Huh?”

“Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder.”

“Oh,” I say.  “Beauty, hotness.  It’s all the same thing.”

“I suppose.”  His voice drops an octave, the sound vibrating down my spine through the phone.  “So did you go on to write the great American novel?”

I frown, my bottom lip stuck between my teeth.  “I’m published.”

“Oh really?”

“Yep.”

“What do you write?”

“Umm…”

“Come on,” I hear the grin again.  “Maybe I’ve read one of your books.”

“I doubt it.”  My nose wrinkles, and my lips purse.  I’m silent for a few minutes, pacing around and around in circles in my kitchen debating on what I should say. 
It’s not as if I’m embarrassed by my work.  I go to conferences.  My picture is on the inside back cover of all of my books.  So what’s the big deal?  The big deal is that he’ll probably think I’m some
kinda
slut.  All men seem to think that just because I write erotic romances, I’m a slut.  Easy.  Put out on the first date. 
Yada
,
yada
,
yada
, and all that jazz.