Weston's Treasure

by Riley Edwards

  “I don’t see what’s so funny.”

  “I know you don’t,” he said through his hilarity. “That’s what makes it funny.”

  “So it’s funny because I’m nervous about meeting your parents? It’s funny I want them to like me? But more importantly, I want them to like me for you? It’s funny because I’m scared if they don’t like me then that means you’ll stop liking me, because they’re important to you? All of that is funny, Weston?”

  He sobered immediately. There it was—the root of her concern. No bullshit. No hiding.

  “Babe, I don’t know how to make this any clearer to you. I know they’ll love you simply because I do. But also, it will take them all of five minutes to figure out all the reasons I do, and see you for exactly who you are. A beautiful, challenging, intelligent woman who makes their son happy. They’ll get it and they’ll like that for me. They’ll like it for you. Neither are dumb and it takes less time than you think to see the hurt you guard. Both will see that and both will move in to give you what you need to stop guarding it and start healing it. That’s the type of people my parents are.”

  “Love me?”

  It took Weston a moment to understand what she was asking. And when he did he smiled. Of course that was what Silver would hone in on and he wondered if she’d heard anything else he’d said after that.

  “What exactly do you think’s going on between us?”

  “Um…I…well…”

  Damn, his Silver was cute when she was clueless.

  “Straight up. We had a conversation less than twenty-four hours ago about there being a possibility I planted my kid inside of you. Not long after that, I took you again bare. No protection. I spilled inside of you, uncaring that if I hadn’t knocked you up the first two times, I could’ve that time. During that conversation, I thought I made myself pretty damn clear I wasn’t freaking out because there was nothing to freak out about. I thought I was also clear that I wanted kids, and I wanted those kids to look like you. So with all of that, you’re seriously asking me if I love you?”

  “Well, you never said you did, so how was I supposed to know?” she shrieked.

  “I don’t got a bunch of kids roaming the streets and baby mamas I pay child support to, so I think it’s a pretty safe bet, I’m damn careful. And the fact that I was not careful with you, should be a pretty fucking big indication you mean something to me. But if that wasn’t, me taking you again after I knew you weren’t on birth control and still let loose inside of you should’ve been a huge, flashing, red neon sign that said I loved you.”

  “That’s crazy. And you having sex with me without a condom doesn’t say I love you, it says you’re a man and wants himself some and doesn’t have time to roll on a condom.”

  “Never in my life have I been so turned on I didn’t have time for a condom.”

  “Well, maybe I’m just special that way, you were more turned on with me.”

  “You’re special all right,” Weston blurted through his amusement.

  “You’re laughing again,” she angrily noted.

  And he was, his body shook with it, the sound filled the SUV, and try as he might he couldn’t stop it.

  “I am,” he unnecessarily confirmed.

  Silver made a strangled sound and muttered, “You’re an ass.”

  “Stubborn,” Weston returned.

  “I’m not being stubborn, Weston Beil, but if you don’t stop laughing when I’m having a mild freak-out you’re gonna see stubborn in a way you’ve never seen it.”

  “Right.” He chuckled.

  “And don’t you even wanna know if I love you?”

  It took Herculean effort not to bust a gut at her annoyed question. Only Silver could fight about them loving each other.

  “I know you do,” he told her.

  Silver’s hand in his spasmed before she growled, “Arrogant much?”

  “Nothing arrogant about it.”

  “It totally is. You just assume because you’re good-looking and have superpowers in the bedroom I’d fall madly in love with you.”

  He let the good-looking and superpowers comments go, though he was keeping those in his back pocket for a later date. Something he’d use to tease her with.

  “You were madly in love with me before you had my cock and I know it.”

  “You’re crass.”

  “Maybe.”

  “And annoying.”

  “Probably.”

  “And infuriating.”

  “Yet you still love me.”

  “Whatever. How much longer until we stop?”

  Weston checked the road signs and was calculating when their next stop would be when Silver broke the silence.

  “You’re shaking with it again. I swear if you laugh at me again I’m gonna be pissed.”

  “Can’t help it, babe, you’re hilarious.”

  Then he laughed again. And Silver pretended to be pissed. It lasted all of fifteen minutes. Then Weston caught her smiling.

  24

  “Hands and knees,” Weston growled against my pussy.

  We were in the hotel room. He’d just finished licking me clean after he’d feasted between my legs. I scrambled to the position he wanted and waited.

  His big hand spanned my hips, holding me steady as he plunged into me.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he groaned and my pussy spasmed around his thick cock.

  His body curved around mine, one hand playing between my legs, the other rolling my nipple, his mouth at my neck.

  “How rough you want my cock, babe?”

  “Rough.”

  “Hold on, baby.”

  I was holding on.

  “You’re gonna feel me next week, Silver.”

  Yes! I wanted that.

  “You’re gonna feel me and know how much I love your pussy.”

  I wanted that, too.

  “Fuck, you’re wet, baby, it’s coating my cock and dripping down my balls.”

  I probably was—that was how turned-on he made me.

  “Tight, sleek, and hot.”

  Through all of this, Weston wasn’t giving me rough, he was giving me slow, gentle glides. I loved it, all of it, but I wanted him wild. Out of control. Mindless.

  I pushed my hips back as he thrust forward and moaned when he pressed deeper.

  “Harder, honey.”

  “Fuck,” he groaned and pulled himself upright. His hands going back to my hips, the pads of his fingers digging in, he was gonna leave a mark, and I was looking forward to that, too. “You need my hand to get you there?”

  I knew what he was asking, and miraculously I didn’t think I’d need either of us touching my clit to get me off.

  “No. Just your cock.”

  “Fucking love it when you talk dirty, baby.”

  I didn’t have time to say more. He left me speechless as he pounded into me.

  Breathless. His cock created magic. Rough, hard, bliss.

  By the time I shattered—which was quick, no clitoral stimulation needed—I was boneless. Weston was not, he was energetic and finished with me on my back, his face shoved in my neck, and my legs locked around his hips.

  Then like always, he gave me sweet.

  He barely had me settled, pressed close, my head on his chest, our legs tangled, and his hand resting over mine on his chest when he spoke.

  “Too rough?”

  “Perfect.”

  “Need you to tell me if I’m taking you too hard.”

  I’d gone from boneless, sated, relaxed to high alert in a millisecond. Weston was always concerned about me, but there was something different in the way he was asking.

  “I’m the one who begged you to go harder,” I reminded him.

  Weston fell silent and I did, too. I was lost in the feel of his heart beating under my palm, enjoying the rhythm, the warmth, the way he cuddled me close.

  My mind drifted back to the car ride and our ridiculous argument over him knowing I was in love with him. How he knew, I still
didn’t know, but I was glad he did. It helped that he’d told me, without actually telling me, that he loved me, too. The more I thought about it—the silliness of me being able to turn anything into a fight—the less I could stop the giggle.

  “Babe?” Weston’s hand on my hip tightened and I laughed harder.

  “I love you,” I announced through my giggles. Weston went stiff under me and I couldn’t help it, that was funny, too. He probably thought I’d finally cracked. “I love you and you love me and I…” I had to stop speaking because my entire body was vibrating with humor. I could barely breathe through it. Tears had started to form and threatened to spill. “Fight about it.” I finally got out.

  Weston said nothing, he held on tight until I finally burned myself out and stopped laughing.

  “I love you, Silver.”

  My breath caught and now the tears that were rolling down my cheeks were different—not from the mirth of my stupidity but from happiness Weston said straight out he loved me.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered.

  That earned me another squeeze. But something still wasn’t sitting right. Something I couldn’t let go.

  “Why’d you ask me if you were too rough?”

  “Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt me,” I gaffed at the absurdity.

  “Not intentionally,” he conceded. “But I…”

  “You what?”

  “Tend to lose control when we’re together. I don’t ever want to do something you don’t want to do, or hurt you, or make you uncomfortable.”

  “You don’t. Where’s this coming from?”

  He blew out a breath and I didn’t like my big, strong Weston sounding unsure. He was never unsure, he was always in control. Always strong.

  “I’m sure it’s not lost on you I know what I like. I have no problem asking for it, demanding it even.” I nodded against his chest because it wasn’t lost on me he was bossy in the bedroom and I loved it. “I don’t want to talk about my past but to say, I’m finding I’m different with you.”

  “Different how?” I asked, but hoped he didn’t give me examples because I really didn’t want to hear about the women he’d been with.

  “Different in a way, that when I’m demanding, I seriously get off on it.”

  It was safe to say, I was not understanding.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Babe, when you are naked, my mouth on you, my cock inside of you, something deep inside of me clicks into place. When I tell you to spread your legs for me and you look at me and all I see is trust staring back, and you open yourself up to me, it fills something I didn’t know was missing. But then I want to demand more. I want to push you and see how far that trust extends. Every time I ask something of you and you do it, swear to God it’s a gift, but I want to take more. I want my hands fisting your hair while I fuck your mouth. I want to hear the crack of my palm when it rains down on your ass. I want shit I never thought I did, and moreover, I want it so fucking badly, it scares the shit out of me. I don’t ever want to lose control and hurt you.”

  I took a moment and waited for the mini-orgasm from his words to subside while I tried and failed to find the words I needed in order to explain—not only wasn’t I worried he’d ever hurt me, but I was turned way the hell on.

  In the end, I found I couldn’t find the words, so I did something bold. Something that before Weston, before he showed me he liked—no, loved—me for who I was, I’d never be able to do.

  I climbed atop him, my hands going to his chest, and I kept my center off his lap.

  “Touch me.” His head tilted to the side in question and I sucked in a breath preparing to say something I’d never said outside of making love to Weston. “Take your fingers and touch my pussy.”

  Immediately. Instantly. His brown eyes heated and he was gonna miss my point if he didn’t hurry because that look alone was turning me on more.

  Weston’s hand moved, his finger teased my opening, and his heat turned into hunger.

  “Fucking drenched,” he growled and I shivered.

  I nodded.

  “You trust me to take you where I want to go?”

  I nodded again.

  “I need the words, Silver.”

  “Yes. I trust you.”

  “Grab my cock, and guide me inside.”

  With my hand shaking and my body trembling I did what Weston asked. His hands clamped onto my hips, stopping me from slamming down.

  “Slow, baby.”

  He didn’t let go as I slid onto his cock slowly. His eyes flashed approval when I waited for him to tell me what he wanted next.

  “I want you to ride me nice and slow, with your fingers on your clit.”

  My pussy spasmed and his face got tight. “Fuck, but I love that.”

  I knew he did, I did, too. I loved more that he told me he did. Every time it happened he didn’t hide his appreciation.

  His hands squeezed my hips and I started to move on his lap, my finger going between my legs. I waited a long time for his eyes to leave mine, for him to look down and watch me play with myself, but he never did. Our eyes stayed locked. Between his cock filling me, my finger teasing my clit, and his eyes on me, I was ready to explode. It was frustrating as hell, Weston refused to allow me to go faster. My orgasm was dancing just out of reach.

  “Faster,” I panted, not above begging. Not that I ever was with Weston.

  “Slow.”

  “Weston, please. I need more.”

  “Move your hand and lean forward.”

  Yes!

  His mouth brushed against mine and his hands went from my hips to my ass. One hand moved between us and I felt him touching where we were connected, then it was gone and his finger was circling my hole. My body locked and I froze. No one had ever touched me there. Not ever. And that was by choice.

  “One day I wanna take you here.” He kept circling. “Keep riding me, Silver.”

  I came out of my stupor and started moving, still very unsure of what was happening. He kept adding pressure but my orgasm was no longer dancing—it was barreling fast and furious.

  “Faster, baby,” he demanded. “You gonna let me take you here?” He pressed in the tiniest of fractions and my hips bucked, my orgasm right there. “I get you on all fours, eat your pussy first, get you wild for me, you’ll let me take your ass.”

  I pressed my face into the crook of his neck and I don’t know what came over me. I bit down as my world exploded. He gave me more of his finger in my ass, thrust up into me as I slammed down, prolonging my orgasm. It was dirty. Naughty. Forbidden. But I knew I was going to let Weston take my ass.

  “Fuck, baby. Grind down harder.”

  With my teeth still sunk into his shoulder, blinding flashes of light behind my eyelids, I fucked him harder.

  “Goddamn, treasure. My treasure,” Weston grunted and held me to him.

  That time I didn’t get to feel his cock swell, or the ropes of come throb from his dick. I couldn’t feel anything because I was in shambles. Broken apart. But I wasn’t worried. I trusted Weston would put me back together.

  The next morning I awoke in a fog. Sun was shining into the room through unfamiliar sheer curtains, lighting unfamiliar cream walls.

  “Babe?”

  “Sorry. Took me a minute to remember where I was.”

  We were still in the same position Weston had put us in last night. Naked. Me on my side, my back to his front, his heavy arm around my waist. I loved that Weston cuddled. That he wanted me close even in sleep.

  His arm tightened around me and I wiggled my bare ass against his lap.

  “Took you rough last night,” he weirdly started.

  “Yeah.”

  “That means this morning I take care of you. We’ll take a shower, get you something to eat, then before I go, I’ll run you a warm bath.”

  That seemed odd, that I’d need a shower and bath so I told him so.

  “Don’t
think I’ll need a bath after we shower.”

  “The shower’s because I need one before I head out and I want you with me. The bath is for you to relax.”

  That was sweet. I liked he wanted me to relax, though I wouldn’t because if all went well today and he caught his man, we were headed to his parents’ house. Though I wouldn’t bring that up and start another argument. Not only because it was silly, it didn’t matter how many times Weston told me not to worry, I was still going to. But also because he had to get on the road and catch a bad guy.

  “Okay.”

  “It’s a miracle she’s agreeable,” he muttered to himself.

  “She won’t be for long if he continues to be an arrogant ass about it.”

  “Wouldn’t want that, now would we?” He chuckled.

  “I don’t know, would we?”

  Weston’s face pressed into my hair and I heard him inhale.

  “Are you smelling me?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Nothing weird about smelling my woman. Nothing like waking up to the smell of sex and flowers.”

  “Are you saying I stink?”

  Weston’s big body started shaking so hard my body had no choice but to quake with his. It felt nice—so nice I forgot I was gearing up for an argument.

  “No, baby, I’m saying you smell fucking great.”

  “Sex doesn’t smell good.”

  “Says who?”

  That was a good question. I didn’t know exactly who says that, I just knew that it was said. At least I thought people said that. But now I wasn’t so sure.

  “I don’t know. But sex is sweaty and there’s an exchange of bodily fluids.”

  “Bodily…fluids.” Suddenly Weston wasn’t pressed against my back, he was on his, roaring with laughter. Now not only was he shaking, making me shake, but the whole bed was moving with it.

  “Weston!” I shrieked.

  “Babe, give me a minute.”

  I didn’t give him a minute. I sat up and stared down at him.

  His hair was messy and I knew part of that was because my fingers had been in it. And I knew my fingers had been in it because his mouth had been between my legs, but also because he’d been on top of me. Then my eyes traveled over his smiling face and my heart squeezed. But it was when my gaze traveled over his chest that my insides clenched.