Page 62 of Weston & Cyrus
“No, Master.” Whining, he shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“Hmm?” The simplest prompting had his body jerking, and his cage seemed to get a bit tighter based on the way he sighed and shifted.
“Your toy doesn’t hurt, Master. It doesn’t have any…any boo-boos.”
If he hadn’t already come, I was pretty sure that would’ve done it.
“Good boy.” Kissing the tip of his caged dick, I chuckled again to make him squirm. “It’s so cute like this and I’m so proud of you for coming for me.”
His groan was pure embarrassment but he curled into me as soon as I lay back down with him. “Master…I…I got my reward but did you…did you like that game?”
“Yes.” Nuzzling against him, I leaned down to get under his hands and gave him a quick peck. “You felt so good around me and you remembered to make me happy.”
More shivers.
Still doing great.
He even squeaked and shoved his face tighter against my chest, so I stroked the back of his head and laughed again quietly. “My needy boy. But that’s okay. I’m going to make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.”
Me.
Weston took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he rubbed his face against me. “By…by controlling my orgasms and…and making me talk to the bear?”
“Yes.” Kissing the top of his head, I wrapped my arms around him and snuggled him even closer. “And finding new ways to use you and make you submit and to reward you.”
“I don’t know how you make that sound scary and sexy at the same time.” His words were too dramatic for me to take seriously.
“Well, you are a smart slut, but I can understand how you could get confused.” I kissed his head and grinned as he let out another ridiculous sigh. “But don’t worry, I’m here to help.”
And sooner or later he’d figure out I wasn’t going anywhere.
Right?
Chapter 17
Weston
What had I been thinking?
Nothing.
I’d been stupidly turned on, so I hadn’t been thinking at all.
I was really going to figure out a way to make both heads work at the same time, but until I did I was just going to have to figure out how to deal with the fucking bear.
Mr. Bear…because I wasn’t creative when I was turned on.
Sitting at the head of my bed with my legs curled up under me, I was pretty sure I was out of his visual range, but that didn’t help me make any decisions or stop wiggling like a kid who needed to pee.
Because I needed to pee…and to start getting ready for work.
“Shit!”
My fucking phone was going to give me a goddamned heart attack.
Picking it up, I hoped I hadn’t triggered the motion-activated camera in the bear as I opened the text message.
Fucking hell.
