Page 50 of Weston & Cyrus
I was never going to get to come.
He was going to make not coming sound like a reward and I was going to end up screwed.
Well,notscrewed in this case.
“But if I’m a good boy…your good slut…then I get rewards.” That would fix the situation. I’d even called myself a slut. He liked that. Yes. I was going to aim for rewards and not just hope having fun would lead to me getting a reward. “And…and clear communication means that you’ll let me know what being good means in this situation.”
I had clothes on and we were technically in public, so I was going to need more specific instructions on his expectations.
“You said communication is important in a relationship like this one.” Right? Hadn’t he said that? “Thank you for helping me with that.”
Assumptive close to make sure he couldn’t say no?
Salesmen did it all the time, so it had to work other places.
Cyrus’s smirk made me question that logic but it was too late to try another game plan. “I think that’s an important discussion we should have, you’re right.”
That was a scary sentence…especially with his smile.
“Thank you, Sir.” Yes. Polite and short so I didn’t say anything else stupid.
Relief wasn’t the emotion rushing through me when he shifted back to his seat and seemed ready to go, though. Embarrassed fear and painful arousal were warring with eachother to see who would win. It was a tie to start with, but Cyrus seemed intent on helping arousal to win because he kept massaging my dick as he started taking us back to my place.
Where we were going to set up my teddy bear.
Okay, maybe I was scared stupid and didn’t realize what I was feeling?
“So, tell me how you think a good boy would behave in the car and what kind of reward you think you should get.” Smiling again as he pulled up to a stoplight, he leaned over and gave me an innocent peck on the cheek. “You’re right. Communication is important.”
God.
I’d done this to myself.
Chapter 14
Cyrus
Clothes off and cage on made his headspace much better, and we regained the ground we’d lost with the weirdo. Sure, we’d started moving in that direction on the drive back, but he hadn’t really lost all logic and worries until I’d gotten him ready for our evening.
“Pretty plate time.” Carefully placing a dumpling between his lips, I waited until my shaking cutie had it secure before I released it. “Perfect.”
Leaning down to where he was kneeling between my legs, I bit down into the dumpling and made sure to lick around his lips as I used him as my spoon…but pretty plate was more fun to say, so that was what I was going with.
He didn’t have the mental bandwidth to argue with me about my word choice anyway.
“Mmm…” Weston was too busy using all of his remaining brainpower to stay upright and keep his hands off his caged cock. “Delicious.”
And so much fun.
“Does my sexy boy want a bite?” We’d been going back and forth for a while, so I knew he’d be hitting his limit soon. Wewere already at thetwo bites for me and one for himstage, and we’d eaten together enough that I knew the signs.
The fact that he took a second to think said he was wrapping it up, but he nodded and swallowed hard to get words out. “Your…your slut would like more broccoli, please.”
“That’s very polite.” Picking up a slightly saucy piece I knew would cause problems, I slowly held it up to his mouth. Before he could catch it with his lips, a drip hit his chest and I frowned at him. “Oh, not good manners.”
We’d played this out three times already and the whimper that escaped as he rocked his hips had me fighting to keep the stern expression. “Eat your bite and then I’ll clean you up.”
That did not help his ability to sit still or think. However, he managed to eat the broccoli without choking to death, so I thought that was a win for me. But even as quickly as he’d swallowed the bite, the sauce still made it halfway down his torso before he was finished and could speak. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I got dirty, Sir.”
