Weston's Treasure

by Riley Edwards

  It was time to figure out what was wrong, even if Weston was fairly certain he knew.

  “You ready to talk now?” he asked.

  Silver was sitting on the couch in front of him, eyes on the TV, Weston behind her with his arm over her resting on her hip. They’d eaten dinner then settled in the living room to chill. When he felt her body go solid, he figured the time he’d allowed for her to unwind hadn’t been enough.

  “Babe?” he encouraged.

  “I’m insecure,” she whispered.

  “Didn’t miss that, sweetheart.”

  His answer in no way made her relax.

  “I have a temper.”

  He knew that, too, so he remained silent.

  “I’m stubborn, not because I want to be right, but because I’m tired of people walking on me.”

  “People…or Dale and Silvia?”

  “Dale and Silvia,” she admitted.

  His hand flexed on her hip, encouraging her to continue.

  “My mom was nasty and mean. I’ve turned into her.”

  “You haven’t,” Weston returned.

  “She’d say stuff just to hurt my dad. Like I did today.”

  “You are not her.”

  “She knew what buttons to push, the perfect thing to say for maximum damage.”

  “You’re not her, Silver,” he repeated.

  “But I am. I did that to my dad today. I was a bitch and I knew what I was saying when I was saying it and I knew it’d hurt him. That makes me her.”

  “Not even close. You said what you said to your dad, not because you wanted to hurt him. You said it as a daughter reaching out to her father. A man who, while he loved her, didn’t do right by her. You bottled all of that up for so long it was bound to explode. And when it did, you finally gave him what he needed to hear.”

  “That’s kind of what Alec said.”

  In a moment of weakness, jealousy crept in. Weston knew Alec was not the sort of man to move in on another man’s woman, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t wary of the reasons Silver had opened up to Alec.

  “What else did Alec say?” Weston inquired, trying to keep his tone even and his body still.

  “He said, I needed to give you that.”

  “Give me what?”

  “How I was feeling about my behavior. He said I needed to give it to you before it festers. He said if I didn’t stop being insecure I was gonna lose you.”

  Relief washed over him—she was giving it to him. She wasn’t hiding, wasn’t pushing him away, and wasn’t being stubborn. Straight-out she was giving Weston everything he wanted—all of her laid bare.

  The feeling was heady. It was warm and it slid over him, making him even more certain. Treasure. He’d found it.

  “You’re not gonna lose me.”

  “I will if I don’t stop holding back because I’m scared.”

  “What are you scared of, sweetheart?”

  “I’m scared that now that I’m no longer in danger you won’t want me.”

  Fuck. She believed that. Truly and deeply down to her bones she felt that fear.

  Totally unacceptable.

  He was done having this conversation on the couch where someone could walk in at any moment. But more importantly, Weston wanted to look at her while they were having it. He knifed up, taking her with him. Brought them to their feet and headed for the stairs. Uncaring the front door was unlocked and the TV was still on, he guided them and didn’t stop until he was in their room.

  Theirs.

  Silver stood motionless as he yanked her tee over her head, tossed it on the floor, pulled off his, and dropped it. He did the same with both of their jeans, her panties, and his boxers. And finally, he unclipped her black lacy bra and let that fall to the floor.

  Weston wasted no time pulling the covers back and helping Silver into the bed. She remained silent, her big pretty hazel eyes trained on him, no looking away, no hiding, no bullshit.

  He settled in over her, his hips in the cradle of her thighs. Weston took a moment to marvel in the moment. The first time he had her fully under him, with only one last thing between them. Something he planned to obliterate.

  “Tell me why you’re scared,” Weston demanded.

  Silver’s eyes widened at his question, her mouth opened and closed a few times before her brows pinched together and she finally muttered, “What?”

  “Why do you think I wouldn’t want you?”

  “You wanna talk about this now?” The shock on her beautiful face was clear.

  “Tell me.”

  “I can’t think when you’re on top of me and I’m naked.”

  Weston smiled at her candor.

  “Try, Silver, it’s important.”

  “Maybe we should put on clothes if you want to talk about this.” Silver squirmed under him brushing her sex against his half-hard cock.

  “Please stay still,” he groaned. It took a full ten seconds before he had himself under control and could continue. “No hiding,” he reminded her.

  “Putting on clothes isn’t hiding.”

  “I want nothing between us when we’re having this particular conversation. Completely bare. Stripped of everything. Both of us, Silver. Tell me why you’re scared so I can return the favor.”

  “You’re scared?” Her face scrunched like it was beyond the realm of possibilities he’d be scared, too.

  “Scared shitless. Scared that I found something so precious and all I want to do is keep hold of it but I’m afraid of it slipping away. I’m scared because I’ve never met a woman that meant something to me and now that I have I’m worried I’ll do something to fuck it up. I’m scared because I’m falling in love and it’s unknown and uncertain. So, yeah, Silver, I’m fucking terrified you’ll rip my heart out. But, baby, none of that is gonna stop me from continuing to take us to a place where neither of us will be scared anymore.”

  “I don’t think I’m scared anymore,” Silver blurted out and Weston jerked in surprise.

  “You wanna explain that?”

  “I was scared that once you didn’t have to protect me we’d be over. I’d go back to Delaware. You’d stay here and all of this would just be a really great memory.”

  “I told you that wasn’t gonna happen. I told you I wanted to explore what was between us.”

  “I know you did. But I was still scared.” Silver’s long lashes brushed under her eyes and Weston gave her the time she needed to gather herself. When she opened her eyes they came to his—clear, unguarded, open. “I’m insecure.”

  “But you’re not scared anymore?” he asked for clarification.

  This was really fucking important—the last thing between them, her fear. And Weston knew he needed to get this right, needed to make sure the path was clear to take them where he wanted. He couldn’t have her holding back, and he didn’t want to. He wanted her to fall, and when she did, he needed her to know she’d have a safe place to land. That when she was ready to give him her heart, he’d take care of it.

  “Knowing that you’re scared, too, makes me not scared. Knowing you feel the same way I do, takes away the uncertainty. Knowing I’m not alone in the fear, settles me.” Silver shrugged and continued. “I was scared I was falling in love with you but afraid you’d figure out I was more trouble than I’m worth.”

  He fucking hated when she said shit like that. Hated her mother with a burning passion. Hated even more that Silver had lived with it her whole life.

  “Sweetheart, your mother’s shit didn’t cause scars on your beautiful flesh, she injected that shit deep. So deep, I know I got some time before you believe me, and I’ll keep saying it until you do. You are not Silvia. You’re not what she said you were. I see you, Silver. I see how strong you are. How wicked smart. How accomplished. How beautiful. How caring. How loving. How funny. How stubborn. And when you puzzle all of that together, all the pieces that make you, you. What you get is so blinding, so fucking gorgeous, so priceless, you are worth more than any sunken t
reasure your dad could ever unearth. And you are mine. My Silver. My treasure. All of you, mine.”

  “Does that mean you’re mine?”

  “Fuck yeah, it does.”

  Her full lips tipped up into a smile and her greenish-brown eyes danced. Goddamn, the woman was crazy-beautiful. And his. Silver shifted under him, her hands going to his ass and her nails dug in. That was when Weston’s thoughts turned carnal. Gone was the heartfelt conversation, though it would make what came next even better.

  His eyes dipped to her pink lips and he figured he deserved a gold medal for the best control known to man. Lips that were made not only for kissing but for wrapping around his cock. Something he thought about a lot.

  “Are you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna kiss me?” she whispered.

  “I’m gonna kiss you, then you’re gonna watch me when I go down on you. After that, I’m gonna watch as you take my cock.”

  That earned Weston a full-body shiver, something that his cock hadn’t missed. Weston’s mouth was on hers when she muttered, “Finally.” Weston didn’t take the time to smile. He had more important business to see to.

  22

  I was dizzy.

  Weston’s lips and hands had been everywhere. He’d started with a bruising kiss that would’ve melted my panties had I been wearing any. Then his lips moved to my neck, then both of his hands came to my breasts, pushing them together, paying close attention to my nipples, sucking and nibbling until I was wiggling and begging him for more. Then he’d moved lower, dragging his tongue down my stomach and finally much lower. He’d tossed my legs over his shoulders and feasted.

  He was relentless in his pursuit. Mouth, tongue, fingers. He’d engaged all three and I was helpless to hold back. It would’ve been embarrassing if it hadn’t been so fucking glorious at the speed in which he brought me to a screaming orgasm.

  But he didn’t relent, not when my hands tugged at his hair, not when my hips bucked, not when I pleaded with him to fuck me. He kept going, torturing me, building me back up.

  I couldn’t take it.

  I was dizzy with it. I needed him and I needed him right then.

  “Weston,” I panted between moans. “Please, honey. I’m ready.” He flicked my clit and I jolted. “Now, Weston. I need you, right fucking now.”

  He pushed up, forcing my legs to fall from his shoulders, and before I could beg anymore, he was looming over me, mouth on mine, his hand working between us. Then I felt it—the head of his cock pushing through my wetness.

  My back arched and my hips tipped up in invitation. He slowly rocked into me, still kissing me rough. The mix of the sensations kept me on the edge. So opposite, I didn’t know what to concentrate on. Both felt great, both made me dizzy.

  I tore my mouth from his and begged, “More.”

  “No, baby. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  He sounded hungry and suddenly I felt brave. The sound of his voice, knowing he wanted me as much as I wanted him, empowering.

  “More,” I demanded, and locked my legs around his hips using all the strength I could muster to bring him closer.

  “Silver,” he growled and surged forward.

  The force of his thrust taking my breath, I was full of him, so full I thought I’d burst. His hand came to my breast, thumb and forefinger to my nipple and pinched. The pain turned into a sizzle and my clit pulsed.

  “Oh my God,” I panted.

  Weston slid out to the tip and asked, “Can you take it?”

  “Yes. More.”

  He drove home, but this time didn’t wait, he pulled out, pushed in, and plucked and played with my nipple. I lost track of time, lost track of everything but what Weston was doing. I felt it all. The way his thick cock stretched me, the way the engorged head of his cock rubbed inside of me, a place so wondrous, every time he bumped it I screamed out in ecstasy.

  “More?” he grunted and the sound made me shiver—from my toes to my fingertips. “Yeah, my baby wants more. I want your hands on me, Silver.”

  Momentarily I felt stupid, I’d been lamely fisting the sheets. But when my hands went to his back, the strain of his muscles under my palms, all the power I knew he was keeping under control—suddenly I wanted him to lose it.

  Unleash it.

  “Harder, honey.”

  Weston rocked into me harder, driving faster, rougher, stealing the oxygen from my lungs, building something so big I knew when it broke I’d fly apart.

  I wanted it.

  I wanted him to have it.

  “You need my finger on your clit?”

  “No. Harder, Weston. Fuck me harder.”

  “Get there, baby, I’m close,” he grunted.

  My pussy spasmed, clutching his cock, I felt a gush of wetness, and then with four limbs wrapped around Weston, I flew apart.

  Millions of tiny pieces.

  “Fuck,” he growled, and shoved his face in my neck.

  He was still fucking me rough, my orgasm still pulsing through me, not letting up, or maybe a new one was building, maybe I was floating or dreaming, because nothing could feel this good.

  “Please,” I moaned. So delirious I wasn’t sure what I wanted or needed.

  His hand moved under my ass, lifting it off the bed, tilting it, the new angle making him go deeper and my body locked tight and something so magnificent tore through me it couldn’t be called an orgasm, it was something else, something more. I didn’t just feel it in my pussy, or my womb, or my belly, I felt it all over. A full-body experience that left my hair tingling and the rest of me on fire.

  “Weston!” I screamed, unable to hold back. I shook, my hips bucked, trying to prolong the sensation.

  As the orgasm started to leave I couldn’t stop the whimper. Weston heard it, squeezed my ass, and planted deep, groaning his orgasm.

  “Silver, baby.” His words sounded painful, like they were ripped from his soul as he spilled into me.

  I felt that, too. Every shot of come as his cock twitched and pulsated.

  It might have been seconds, or minutes, or an hour later. However long it was, I wished it had been forever. Me lying under Weston, both of us catching our breath, coming down from a high so high, even in my limited experience I knew it was not normal.

  Weston started to slowly stroke in and out, his hand that had been on my ass now on my thigh, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth.

  “Goddamn,” he muttered against my neck. “Knew you’d be perfect. Knew it before I even kissed you, you’d be wild. Knew we’d be good together. Never been more wrong.”

  I went stiff wondering how I could’ve felt something so wonderful and he didn’t. I was so stupid to think I’d be enough for Weston. He was used to women who didn’t have to be told what to do with their hands. Who would know how to please him.

  My heart sank.

  “I’m…”

  Shit. What was I? Sorry I’m bad in bed. Sorry I didn’t know what I was doing.

  “So goddamn tight and wet I was fighting, getting you there first.”

  “What?”

  “Knew it’d be a struggle, knew it the first time I had my fingers inside you and your pussy so tight I had to work to get two in. Knew the way you got wet, your excitement dripping down my chin how hot you were. But, babe, I had no clue the feel of your pussy squeezin’ my cock would be so goddamn good that within seconds I’d be ready to blow. No idea how fucking good it would be when your come coated my cock I’d have to fight off the need to fuck you so hard you’d be feeling me for a month.”

  Through all of this, Weston kept gliding, giving me sweet strokes. And then I stopped thinking about the sweet he was giving me and started to get excited again. Wondering what “so hard you’d feel me for a month” would be like. Then I was thinking he’d gone at me pretty hard and was shocked he could go harder. But I knew I wanted to know what that felt like.

  “You doing okay?” His head lifted and his fabulous brown eyes were sated and lazy.

  “Yea
h.”

  “Did I hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “I was rough.” He was and I loved every minute of it. “You like rough.”

  It wasn’t a question, it was an observation and my face heated.

  Then even though he already knew what I was going to tell him, I admitted, “I don’t know enough to know what I like. But I loved what you gave me.”

  Something big happened. Weston’s eyes heated, his hand on my thigh tightened, and the pulse in his neck started to throb. Being as I was already slightly embarrassed reminding him of my lack of experience, I went whole hog and continued.

  “And I’d like to know what ‘fuck you so hard you feel me for a month’ is like.”

  A lascivious smile graced his handsome face, one that made my pussy spasm and my clit throb. Holy smokes, he was hot, and hotter when his still-hard dick jerked inside of me.

  “Then we’ll explore that. But now I want you soft and slow.”

  “What?”

  “I gave it to you rough, sweetheart. Should’ve given you sweet our first time. Fucked that up when I slid into your warm pussy and lost my mind. I’m gonna rectify that now, and give soft and slow.”

  I guess I was wrong, he didn’t care I didn’t know what to do with my hands.

  “Now? But you finished.”

  “Finished?”

  “You…um… you…”

  “Shot my load?”

  My face was on fire and Weston noticed because his smile widened.

  “Yeah, that.”

  “Babe, my dick is still inside of your sleek pussy, hard and ready for more. You up for that?” Was I up for it? Hell, yeah. “You’re up for it.” He answered his own question and adjusted his hips, losing some of the slow but somehow keeping the gentle.

  “How do you know?”

  “Legs tight around my back, Silver.”

  I did what he asked and locked my ankles. His hand went into my hair, keeping me where he wanted me as he lowered his head.

  “How did you know?” I whispered.

  “Because you’re so tight, I can feel every twitch. I know you liked it when I told you I had to fight to keep control. I know you loved it when I told you it was sexy as fuck when your orgasm coated my cock. I know because I can feel your pussy convulse.”