Page 54 of Weston’s Treasure

He took his time studying the beauty in his bed. Then his mind went back to last night and the way she writhed under him when his tongue was in her mouth and his hand in her panties playing with her clit. She stopped writhing and started bucking as soon as his fingers slid into her pussy. When her orgasm broke loose and her pussy convulsed, all he could think about was how badly he wished it was his cock and not his fingers feeling her spasm.

It was becoming increasingly harder to hold back and go slow. Giving her more of him every night but stopping before he lost control. Silver was getting bolder—her hands freely roamed, her tongue licked and nipped his throat and chest. As dangerous as that was, allowing her to go any lower in her exploration would be catastrophic. His only recourse when she begged to take things further was to kiss her. And that was problematic in its own right, the woman could fucking kiss, every time their lips touched it was like she was drinking from his soul.

Silver shifted, rolling from her side to her back, the sheet only covering her lower half. She was in his tee and a pair of silky lavender panties with black lace trim. The image of them seared into his memory, the way his hand looked disappearing under the material, the look of them when he’d yanked them down her legs and tossed them on the sheets so he could fuck her with his fingers without the obstruction. And finally when he’d put them back on her. There was something supremely sexy helping his woman dress, sliding the panties back up her long legs and smoothing them around her hips, knowing he’d taken them off and now he was putting them back on. Same with his tee, though last night, he’d left it on and pulled it up, leaving it bunched under her chin. If her pleading and moaning were anything to go by, Silver hadn’t minded he hadn’t taken the time.

The longer he stood staring at her, the harder his cock became until it was throbbing in jeans, imploring him to give up his quest to give her time. Three times he’d jerked off in the shower, all three had taken no more than wrapping his hand around his cock and squeezing for the urge to hit, a few strokes later come was pulsing from his cock, with the way Silver looked, sounded, and tasted on his mind.

He was still enjoying watching her when her eyes opened and she smiled.

“Morning,” she mumbled, and he wondered if he’d ever get used to her sleepy, soft voice.

He hoped like fuck he didn’t. He liked she came awake slowly, taking her time, to let the sleepy shift from her. He loved the little mews she made when she stretched. Though, there wasn’t much he didn’t like about Silver.

“Morning, babe.”

Weston made his way to the bed and sat on the edge, brushing the hair off her neck so he could lean in and kiss her there. Smelling the faint smell of the lotion she used did nothing to calm his dick. It smelled like summer, flowers, and the crisp scent of champagne. The bottle called it “A Thousand Wishes”. He had no idea how the name came to be, but he’d wished more than a thousand times that fragrance would never leave his bed.

His mouth hit her soft skin, and he smiled when Silver moaned. Foolishly deciding she needed more, his tongue came out and he tasted her from the bottom of her ear down to her throat. That earned him more groaning, and Silver’s hand making its way under his shirt and gliding up his back.

Foolish.

He knew better. The simplest touch, even an innocent one meant to say good morning, was lethal.

Silver’s head tipped back, wordlessly asking for more, and like the idiot he was, he gave it to her, starting something he knew would end with his cock in extreme pain.

“Weston.”

The sound of his name falling from her lips on a moan made his cock throb and he lifted his face from her neck.

“Time to get up, sleeping beauty,” he muttered against Silver’s forehead, and unable to move until he did, he pressed a kiss there.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Pulling away from me.”

He hated she sounded so unsure. Hated her voice was just above a whisper and she wasn’t looking at him.

“The last thing I’m doing is pulling away. Silver, you have all of me.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Babe?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.

Her eyes came to his and all Weston could see was hurt and uncertainty.

What the fuck?

“You keep stopping. You won’t let me touch you.”

Realization hit but it still didn’t explain the hurt. Each time they’d been together Weston knew she’d wanted more, thought he was doing the right thing taking it slow and not allowing her to get caught up in the moment. Not wanting her to regret being with him, or her going into her head thinking she was easy. Nowhere in any of that had he meant to hurt her.

“You got today,” Weston told her. “Think on it when we’re not in this bed, when your head’s clear. Tonight if you still want me to take what you’re offering, we’ll go from there.”

“I don’t need to think on it. I know what I want. I keep telling you.”

“Take the day, Silver—for me. I need it. I need to know you’re sure, really sure. I’m in deep, sweetheart. We take it to the next level and you regretting it will gut me. I’m taking things slow, giving you time. But what I need you to understand is I want you so fuckin’ bad I literally ache. Me not fucking you has nothing to do with you and everything with me wanting to do right by you.”