Page 82 of Weston & Cyrus
He knew it too based on how quickly he walked over and got in his car.
“Good. There won’t be any misunderstandings. I need to submit, to feel owned, and to relax, damn it.” He had a big job cut out for him but he seemed to be taking it seriously as he carefully followed me out of the parking lot and toward his apartment.
Frustration and drama took me all the way to his place before it started fading into something slightly more distracting and I started thinking too much again.
“Fucking hell.”
I was back to glaring at him as he opened my door and reached for the keys I’d set in the console. “You did that on purpose.”
The asshole shrugged again. “And?”
“I would’ve been fine.” There’d been no need to get me so wound up. “I’d have been safe and thinking.”
He still didn’t look apologetic in the slightest. “But this way you had blood in your brain and now I have an excuse to punish you.”
How had I ended up with asweet but still pain in the assDom?
“You set me up.” I wasn’t going to let him forget that.
“Not my fault you forget your manners too easily.” Releasing my seat belt, he took my hand and helped me out of the car. “Even when you’re getting wound up, you need to think about being polite.”
Giving me a skeptical look as I huffed, he lifted one shoulder. “And think about possibly being a tad smarter, but you’re just my little slut, so I probably shouldn’t expect that from you.”
Ugh.
He was such a brat.
Doing my best to push back my embarrassment, I glared at him. “I was thinking. You were just winding me up on purpose. That’s not my fault.”
“So you’re saying that I need to take control of your reactions better?” Pulling his brows together, he cocked his head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, but I think your little toy would like it.”
As all the blood started shifting lower in my body, I had a harder time remembering why I needed to be frustrated with him. “That’s not the point.”
I just wasn’t sure what the point was…he was a brat?
I knew that.
“If you can’t regulate yourself, then I’m going to have to help more.” Frowning at me like he was thinking hard, he sighed. “I know how we’re going to start. Let’s go.”
He grabbed my gym bag out of the back before locking my car, taking my hand again, and leading me toward the building. “You just need a reminder about who’s in control and how a good boy talks to his Master.”
Oh.
Well.
I.
“You’re in control.” Making sure I acknowledged that first seemed like the best way to end whatever scene he was picturing with an orgasm. “I just…it’s been a long day and I just forgot my manners.”
Yes, I had them, but they’d slipped my mind, so I wouldn’t need much of a reminder.
Just a little one.
A tiny one to make sure he turned my brain off completely and I could finally relax without having to think.
I’d done entirely too much thinking and it was time for him to turn my brain off.
Yes.
