Page 23 of Weston & Cyrus
And so we didn’t end up on the news.
Giving him an order to stay put, I climbed out of the car and walked around to the passenger side. The extra few seconds seemed to give him time to get his thoughts together because he was taking slow, deep breaths by the time I opened his door.
I wasn’t sure if it was him actually being clearheaded or him faking it, but either way I decided to keep my thoughts to myself as we headed inside. It worked fairly well with him looking functional, but as we went up in the elevator, he started mumbling quietly to himself. “I’m boring. I’m boring. I’m boring.”
He was nuts but he was wonderfully boring.
He even managed to stay silent and gave a dull nod to one of his neighbors in the hall, a woman I’d seen before but that we’d never talked to. But it all fell apart once the door closed behind us and we had privacy.
It was like watching thin plaster crumble to see the real wall beneath…and this wall was shaking and hard as a rock based on how he was wiggling. “I was good. I was good. I was boring. I remembered to be boring.”
“That’s right.” Pinning him against the door kept him upright but also made his needy shaking worse. “You were a very good boy, slut. What do good boys get?”
“Rewards.” His sighed-out response was funny and sexy as fuck, but I kept my expression serious as I nodded. It was enough to have him feeling more confident in the situation and more turned on based on the way his eyes glazed over. “I…I get to pick my reward.”
“Yes, because you were careful and you were boring. I’m the only one who knows how hard you were and how many dirty things were running through your head.” I still wasn’t sure how I’d missed it for so long. “How you wanted to be used and teased.”
Shaking my head as he started to softly mumble to himself, I stroked his cheek and kissed his nose because the sweet stuff seemed to fuck with him just as well as the embarrassing stuff. “You’re a dirty boy, but you earned your reward. What does my slut want?”
Because there was no reasonable way for me to guess that answer without fucking with his headspace.
Fingers crossed it was something I knew how to do because this wasn’t the moment to start randomly googling shit.
Chapter 7
Weston
A reward.
I got a reward.
A reward.
I got a reward.
A reward.
I got a reward.
“That’s right, needy boy.” Sir looked proud of me as he gave me a kiss and ground his leg against my dick again. “My sticky needy boy, but what does my slut want as his reward?”
Yes. I got to pick my reward.
“I can’t wait to hear what my slut wants.” Sir kissed my nose again, smiling when it made me squirm. “Do you want to play with your toy?”
Toy.
I didn’t have a cock; I had a toy.
No.
I managed to shake my head but explaining to Sir what I wanted needed words. Squirming wasn’t working and it was killing more of my brains. “I…”
Words.
Sir needed words.
“That’s right. I love seeing my slut blush and squirm, so I hope you’re going to ask me for something naughty.” Sir was so wonderful…he always said what he wanted. “Tell me what my slut wants to beg for.”
