Page 83 of Weston & Cyrus
He’d dropped the ball and he was going to fix the problem he’d created.
Chapter 22
Cyrus
He was alternating between looking contrite while telling me the right things and then turning around and grumbling about me being a brat.
However, since he didn’t seem to realize the frustrating bits were leaking out, I cut him some slack and decided to punish him for the rest of his ridiculously cute bad behavior. There’d been enough that we both knew he needed a spanking along with having control taken away from him.
It was also a good reminder that I needed to start taking more control and not expecting him to give it up because it seemed like he couldn’t do that on his own. At least, not without drama and grumbling and stomping his way up to my apartment.
The fact that he’d just started up the stairs without thinking about the elevator said he knew he needed to work off some drama.
I was going to be more than glad to help him out with that, though, and wear him completely out…starting with getting him naked in a slightly sweeter headspace.
This one was exhausting to watch and couldn’t be doing him any favors. I would, however, because I was a good Dom, and I’d wait to poke my dramatic little bear until we were behind a closed and locked door, though. “Now.”
The firm order and holding out my hands had him blinking and looking around for a few seconds before his brain was able to process the situation. “Yes.”
Nodding to himself, he emptied his pockets on the table by the door and started stripping as he blinked and looked like he was trying to clear his head. That was not the plan, so as he handed me his clothes and set his shoes beside the door, I kept up the stern expression. “You have two minutes in the bathroom. I expect to see you naked and kneeling on my bed when I get there.”
More blinking took up about ten seconds before he sucked in a breath. “Fuck.”
“Not helping the situation and you have a lot of bad behavior to fix.” I was technically talking to his back as he started making a naked run through my apartment, but it just added another reason for him to get punished, so I didn’t complain about it. “I’m counting.”
He’d never make it and we both knew it, but the panic would be fun and a good distraction.
It’d also give him something new to grumble about.
As he bitched and frantically tried to decide how clean he could get in his allotted time, I took his clothes and his gym stuff to my laundry room. The quick cycle would be good enough, so I got it all started and headed to the bedroom.
My place was a bit larger than Weston’s but it still didn’t take much time to get from one end of the apartment to the other.
Oh dear.
“Where’s my slut?” Making a loud sigh as he mumbled fucks from the bathroom, I plugged our phones in and made sure myalarm was set while he scrambled to finish getting ready. “This isn’t making me more understanding.”
Something made a loud thud, but before I could start to worry, he called out. “It was just your soap. I’m fine. I’m careful. I’m thinking clearly. I’m hurrying. I’m sorry.”
He was also ridiculous, but I let a tsking sound make that clear for me.
I didn’t even have to actually say words to get more fucks and grumbles from him, but he was hard as a rock and not thinking about the rest of the day as he finally sprang out of the bathroom. “Two minutes wasn’t enough. I should’ve explained that. I was trying to be polite, though. I’m a good sub.”
Had I mentioned he was also a dramatic one?
“Are you?” Leaning against the bed in just my track pants and an obvious lack of underwear, I frowned at him and tried not to laugh as his brain slowly stopped working like a phone that was ready to die. “I’m not sure I’m seeing good behavior.”
I was a good Dom for the quick clothes change, though.
Flexing my chest and arms as I shifted had his brain bar going even lower. He blinked a few times like he was trying to gain a bit more power, but it only worked so well. “I…it was…I tried, so that makes me good.”
“No.” That was not going to be the standard we used. “A good sub uses a sweeter tone and makes sure their Master knows their toys are ready for his use.”
Weston might’ve groaned as his cheeks heated up, but his cock bobbed up and down, eager to say he approved of the way the evening had shifted.
“A good sub doesn’t curse and grumble about how their Master is a brat.” It seemed to be his favorite word lately, so I wasn’t surprised when he tried to get the guilty expression off his face. “Or a dick.”
Reaching down, I squeezed my erection. “This is the only dick a good sub is thinking about.”
