Chapter Twenty Three
Two bottles of wine had been drunk in the space of a couple hours, I was trying my hardest to pace myself but the wine was beyond delicious. Weston told stories, things that I could only ever dream of experiencing. I found him incredibly interesting and I was hanging onto his every last word.
The sun had officially set and his apartment swarmed in darkness, a lamp on in the corner of the room and Weston lit a Jo Malone candle on the coffee table.
This whole setting made me shiver, never wanting to leave. Regardless of how tipsy the wine was currently making me.
“So yeah, after university I just had this complete change up of my life.” Weston explains as he picks up his glass from the table. “Weston isn’t even my birth name.”
My eyes widen at his statement. “Really?” I ask as I pull myself closer to him on the sofa, our knees now comfortably against each other.
“I got it legally changed.” He says with a light smile.
“How come you changed your name?” I ask curiously.
Weston’s hand stretches to lean on the back of the sofa, his hand close to my shoulder as I face him. “I’ve always hated my birth name, I just didn’t want to be associated with my parents at all. When I went to university, I realised I could be anyone I wanted.”
I hum, nodding. Eager for him to carry on.
“Apparently I had this real heavy West London accent, not sure how different it was to the rest of London but at the time my friends loved it. They called me West or Westy and the name just stuck. So when I graduated from uni and I managed to get some money together, I changed it. To Weston, obviously.” He cracks a smile and raises the glass to his lips.
“It felt like the first time I ever belonged, like I deserved that name. It made me feel proud, always reminded me how no matter what happened to me, I always managed to make the best out of any situation.” His eyes flick between mine, this topic clearly a big passion for him.
“What’s your birth name?” I question and carefully watch Weston’s response. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
He shakes his head, a smile still on his lips. “It’s Alexander,” he breathes out.
“Weston is better,” I tell him, leaning forward slightly. Our knees pressing into each other’s firmly but neither of us pull away.
“I agree,” he nods and puts his glass back down. “No one really knows about it actually, everyone just thinks that Weston has always been my name. I’ve actively not told anyone.”
“Oh,” I say sharply, shocked that he was disclosing this information with me. If anything I felt flattered, his dark eyes making my stomach turn to jelly. “Well it’s not like they need to know.”
“Exactly,” he agrees, his eyes dropping down to my lips subtly.
I part my lips to force myself to breathe, realising how hot my skin had become from drinking this much wine and being this close to him. My eyes follow his lead and glancing down at his plumped lips, noticing how he wets them quickly. Like I didn’t want to just jump him right now.
“So,” he says, drawing my eyes back up to his. “Do you want to talk about the pitch?”
“No,” I exhale almost breathlessly. “No I don’t.”
Weston’s eyes watch me carefully. “Me either,” his finger gently flicks against the bone on my shoulder.
Moving up onto my knees slightly to bring our faces closer, Weston’s hand catching the back of my neck as our lips touch. At first it’s soft and slow, sending shivers down my spine. Weston holds onto the side of my cheek so perfectly, I melted into his hand. His lips opening a notch wider to claim mine, he tasted sweet and I wanted more desperately.
Eventually he pushes me down to the sofa as his body slides on top of me, our lips never parting once. His hands begin to undo my shirt, gradually. My member grows in my pants as he lowers his crotch down to mine, holy fuck this was really happening.
Just at Weston finishes undoing the last button he quickly pulls it off my arms, no patience whatsoever. He pulls away from me and moves to kiss against my neck, my pulse rapidly showing through my veins. His lips moving towards my nipples, his tongue licking on my right and rubbing my left with his fingers.
My head spun as I threw my head back to the sofa, quivering in pleasure. Weston releases my nipples and kisses lower, to my ribs and stomach before pulling back abruptly. Pulling my head up to look at him, his hands either side of my body.
His eyes are trained on my skin, looking over the yellowing bruises Arran had left me. Without saying another word he sighs and drops his head to the tender skin and kisses along it gently, his hands gripping onto my ribs.
Weston’s hand pulls on my belt and he yanks off my trousers with one swift movement, leaving me in my boxers. My eyes glance over his attire hating how he was still in his shirt, raising my hands to undo his buttons. Ripping it off his body and removing it from his shoulders.
He watches me carefully as my hands explore his tanned skin, muscles and his toned abs. Holy shit, I just wanted him to fuck me now and never look back.
Pushing him back so he is now sitting up right on the sofa, climbing on top of his body and dipping my head down to his jaw. Weston’s hands explore my back as I devour his neck, my lips pressing against his warm skin.
Our members grinding against each other, making me flush with hotness. Removing myself from his lap and sliding to the floor, Weston now panting as he admires whilst I remove his belt and pull down his trousers forcefully.
His lips part, watching me as I grope him through his boxers. A glint of surprise in his eyes and I loved it. He was already hard which made me leak with precum, knowing that he wanted this as much as I did.
Pulling down his boxers and allowing his cock to spring free, veiny and thick. The tip looking sore and I wanted nothing more than to put it inside my mouth. Weston grips onto the back of my head, his eyes now dark with lust.
My mouth opens and I lick his tip, taking him into my mouth. Lower and lower, until his cock was at the back of my throat and Weston was grunting and gripping onto my hair harder.
Bringing my other hand up to pump him as my tongue continues to flick over his tip. “Oh fuck,” he grunts, looking up to him as his mouth parts.
Sucking him harder and pushing him to the back of my throat. Weston grunts, bringing his groin closer to my face but he was already the furthest he could be in my mouth.
Continuing to look at him as his eyes remain on the ceiling, his teeth biting down on his bottom lip.
Removing him from my mouth before moving to the tip, licking his sweet spot as I pump him with my hand. Weston’s eyes look down to me, his chest heaving as he notices that I’m already staring back at him.
My tongue gliding up and down his member, spit dribbling out the side of my mouth. He holds me tighter and moans, pulling me up to his mouth. “Fuck,” he cusses out. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.” He says before throwing me down onto my back.
He links his fingers into my boxers and yanks them off, spreading my legs. Covering his fingers in his own saliva before swirling them around my hole, gripping onto the sofa as he does so.
Pushing his fingers inside of me and I instantly buckle at the feeling. “Oh my God,” I pant out, looking up to the ceiling and his studio lights.
Weston hums in approval and pushes his fingers all the way into my ass, his knuckles touching the rim. Our eyes meet and my dick springs up with a pulse, Weston grips onto my member and moves against me.
Biting down onto my bottom lip as he continues to fuck me with his fingers, my hole clenching around him desperately. Pushing up on my hands and kissing Weston’s lips, my hand cupping the back of his head. “Can you just fuck me already?” I mumble against him.
He smiles and pulls back slightly, our lips still touching. His eyes capturing me in an intense stare, something that you’d see in the movies. A look that screamed ‘I’m going to fuck the shit out of you’. His mouth in a smart smirk as he removes his fingers from me.
Standing from the sofa and retreating to his bedside table, taking out a condom and ripping open the wrapper. Sliding it onto his hardened member so easily, then meeting me back on his leather sofas as he kneels.
Our eyes meet as he positions himself up against me, slowly and carefully pushing himself into me. Resting his hands either side of my head, my mouth opens at the feeling of him inside me. My heart rattling against my chest as he thrusts steadily, filling me deeper with each stroke.
Weston leans down onto his forearms and levels our faces together, my hands clutching onto his biceps as he buries himself into my ass. Picking up the pace, spreading my legs wider for better access.
Quivering at his touch, my eyes wanting to roll into the back of my head at the feeling of him pounding me. “West,” I gulp out as he presses his lips to mine aggressively. Moaning into his mouth, our skin slapping each other.
The tip of his cock pressing into my prostate rhythmically, throwing my head back to the sofa to let out a throaty groan. Weston’s lips trail up my neck, his hips slamming into me. My dick solid and dripping with precum, wanting to touch myself but knowing I’ll be coming in about three seconds.
He moves back to look me dead in the eye. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks me huskily, his hand pinching my leg at my knee and pushing it back to the sofa.
My eyes water slightly as I nod, humming in approval. I was in paradise, I’ve only dreamt of this. Fuck, his cock pulsated inside of me with every thrust. His arms enclosing around me tightly.
“Tell me this is what you want,” he grunts out before nipping on my skin.
“Yes,” I breathe out harshly, barely managing to speak at all. “This is what I want, fuck.”
Weston smiles devilishly against me before he slows down his pace. Sweat covering his skin, his hair messy. He yanks at my hips and flips me onto my front, on all fours with him behind me.
He wastes no time in filling me whole, my mouth gaping open and releasing my hips down to the sofa. Weston slamming into me, his fingers digging into my skin. Clutching onto the leather fabric for the life of me, pounding me so hard that my glasses fall off my face directly in front of me.
His hand moving to grip onto the back of my neck, moving my own to stroke myself. Desperate for a release, my hand working the same speed as his pace. Rough and hard, clenching tightly at the pleasure that raised in my body.
“West,” I pant out.
He grunts at the sound of his name and moves impossibly faster inside me, everything pulsating quickly.
“West,” my mouth moans again. “I’m gonna come. Fuck, you’re gonna make me come.”
“Then come,” he tells me gruffly.
I clench my eyes shut and explode inside, my cum shooting out from my dick and hitting the sofa with force. Moaning out continuously as my eyes glaze over with vibrant colours, my orgasm leaving me shaking in pleasure.
Weston continues at his rough speed, grunting softly as he pins my hips down and finishes. His breathless pants enough to make me come again. One final thrust and he slams against me before coming to a gentle pace.
My hands turning numb from all the sensations, not being able to see much but blurriness I front of me. Weston remains inside me for a few moments, attempting to catch his own breath. His hands smoothing over my skin gently.
Then he removes himself from me and I fall onto my stomach completely, I can hear as he takes off the condom.
I push myself up from the sofa and turn to him, my glasses nowhere to be seen. Weston leans down to the floor and picks up my glasses, only a silhouette of him in my sight. “Here,” he tells me before sliding them back onto my face.
“Thanks,” I say with a sheepish smile.
“If you want to go shower you’re more than welcome to,” he grips onto my knee gently, his thumb flicking over my skin. “It’s just down there and to the left.”
I nod in his direction, no words forming in my mouth. “Okay,” I mumble out. “Thank you.”
“I’ll whip us up some food,” he stands from the sofa and pulls on his boxers quickly. “I bet you’re starving.”
My lips purse and I hum. “Yeah,” I say as I quickly grab my clothes to cover myself.
“There are clean towels on the side, you’ll see them.” He explains as he pulls on his trousers and walks around the sofa to the kitchen area.
Just as he turns his back I quickly stand and make my way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me loudly, unintentionally.
Letting out a staggered breath, my heart beating erratically. Missing the occasional beat, everything felt hot and I couldn’t wait to drench myself in cold water.