Page 16 of Knox's Boy

I couldn't look away from his hands on mine. They were so different from mine. His fingers were long and strong, nails perfectly manicured, a dusting of dark hair on his knuckles. Mine looked almost childish in comparison, pale and slender with bitten nails and a small paint stain.

"How did you sleep, mmm?" Knox asked.

I tested the soreness in my shoulders, slowly lowering my arms.

"I slept very well... the best sleep I've had in ages…" I paused, my heart hammering against my ribs, then whispered. "Thank you for asking, Daddy."

The word hung in the air between us. I watched his face, terrified I'd mis-stepped.

Knox went perfectly still. The change was subtle but total, like watching a predator shift from rest to alertness. His pupils dilated, black swallowing brown. His grip on my wrists tightened fractionally, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind me of his strength. The corner of his mouth curved upward, not quite a smile, but something more primal, more possessive.

"Did you now? Good," he said, his voice dropping an octave, resonating in his chest.

I didn't think. I just moved, turning my wrist in his grasp to catch his hand with mine, not learning my lesson, obviously. His skin was warm. My fingers closed around his. I didn’t know how I got the courage to be so bold.

"Please," I whispered, my voice cracking with a need that surprised even me. This wasn't calculated. This wasn't me trying to earn my keep or fulfill a contract. This was raw want flooding through my veins. "Let me please you today. After everything you did for me..."

Knox looked down at our joined hands, his expression unreadable. Then his eyes lifted to mine, searching, assessing. What did he see there? The hungry desperation? The genuine gratitude? The strange, unnamed emotion that had beenbuilding since he'd first approached my table in that coffee shop?

"You think you've earned that privilege?" he asked, his voice soft but edged with steel. I knew it was all banter, but it made my heart speed up in a way I thought I’d die.

"I haven't earned anything,” I admitted, embarrassed. “But I want to. I want... I want to be good for you. Please, Daddy, please."

The words hung between us. I hadn't planned to say them.

Knox's expression shifted, something dark and possessive flickering behind his eyes. The businessman in the impeccable shirt receded, making way for something wilder. His professional demeanor cracked. The Dominant appeared.

"You'll have to beg much more convincingly than that if you want the privilege of touching me," Knox said, his voice a low growl that sent heat pooling in my belly. He pulled his hand from mine and stood, creating distance between us.

The loss of his touch hit me hard, a cold emptiness where his warmth had been. I pushed myself up to sitting, the silk pajamas sliding against the expensive sheets, my body trembling with a need I couldn't fully comprehend.

Knox sat on the edge of the bed, careful to maintain the space between us. His posture was controlled, his back straight, his hands resting on his thighs. The sunlight caught on his silver-streaked hair.

"Color?" he asked, the single word bridging worlds.

It took me a moment to understand, even though I had checked with him before touching him last night. Color. He waschecking in, making sure I was truly consenting to this shift. The care was incredible. Even now, with desire clear in his eyes, he was making sure I was safe, that I was truly willing. No one had ever been so careful with me before.

"Very, very green," I breathed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "The greenest green. Forest green. Emerald green. Fucking neon green."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, genuine amusement softening him. "Eloquent," he murmured.

"I mean it," I said, the words spilling out faster now, unfiltered. "Last night, when I freaked out, I was scared. Now I still am. But not of you. Of... how much I want this. How much I want you. I don't know how to handle it."

Knox's eyebrow arched. I looked down at my hands, unable to meet his gaze as I confessed the rest. "When you put these cuffs on me, when you told me I didn't have to do anything but sleep... I've never felt so safe." I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "I can't stop thinking about your hands and your voice and the way you look at me like you can see right through all my bullshit. It would really be a privilege to be used by you. My privilege." I forced myself to look up then, to meet his dark gaze directly. "I want to be good for you," I whispered. "I want to please you. I want you to... to be proud of me."

The last admission was the hardest.

Knox was utterly still, his eyes never leaving my face. He was studying me. I could almost see him processing my words, weighing them against my body language, my tone, the flush on my cheeks. He was looking for lies, for manipulation.

He wouldn't find them. I was being completely, brutally honest. Those words were my heart and soul.

After what felt like an eternity, Knox shifted his weight slightly. "Come here," he said, his voice low. Commanding.

I moved without hesitation, crawling across the bed until I knelt before him. My heart hammered in my chest with anticipation and nerves.

"If you want to please me," Knox said, "you'll need to prove yourself worthy first."

"I'll do anything," I said, meaning it more completely than I'd ever meant anything before.