Page 70 of Knox's Boy

"You could make a saint sin," he told me, voice ragged. "Look at you. So beautiful, on your knees for me. My filthy, perfect boy."

I whined in response, sucking harder, and he tightened his grip. His thighs tensed under my palms, and I knew he was close, but he wasn't going to finish here. He wanted more.

He pulled me off with a soft pop, and I gasped for air, spit-slicked and dizzy. Knox stood and in one motion hauled me to my feet. He kissed me again, tasting himself on my tongue, and I whimpered against his lips.

"Bedroom," he said, voice an order.

I stumbled backward, bumping into the coffee table, giggling and shivering with anticipation. He followed, stalking me downthe hallway. My cock throbbed against the inside of my sweats. I was so hard it hurt.

He pushed me through the bedroom door, then pinned me to it, kissing me until I was breathless. His hands were everywhere: rough on my ass, gentle on my face, fingers slipping under my shirt to find my ribs, my nipples, teasing them until I gasped.

He spun me around, pressing me face-first to the door, one hand at the back of my neck, holding me in place. With the other, he yanked my sweats down, baring me completely. I heard the bedside drawer slide open, followed by the familiar snap of the lube cap. He warmed it between his palms first, always so careful with me, even when he wanted to fuck me raw, then I felt the cool slickness as he worked one finger inside, then two, taking his time, making sure I was ready. His breath hitched when I pushed back against his hand, silently asking for more.

"Say you want it," he ordered, voice tight with need.

"I want it," I gasped, pushing my ass back against his hand. "Please, Daddy, I need it so bad."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock pressing against me. He leaned in. "Good boy," he said again, and then he pushed in, slowly, stretching me until I shook. It was crazy how much it hurt, and, at the same time, it made my knees buckle with want. He held himself there, letting me adjust. My forehead thunked against the door. His hand was still on my neck, grounding me, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.

He started to fuck me, slowly again. He was big, and I felt every inch of him as he split me, the stretch a reminder of how he always left me just a little ruined. He kept one hand at the front of my neck, but not choking me, just holding me steady, areminder of who owned me. The other around my hip, fingers digging into bone.

He set his own rhythm, not letting me predict or control it, only letting me take what he gave. With each drive of his hips, he forced the air from my lungs. I could feel the roughness of the door against my cheek, the tremor in his arm, the slick heat of sweat gathering at the base of my spine. There was no room in my head for anything but him: his low, broken moans, the snap of his belt buckle against my bare thigh, the vibrations of his voice as he made these guttural sounds.

“Fuck, Daddy,” I whispered. It was so much, too much, too good, too delicious, all at once.

He leaned in, and his breath was hot on my skin. "Mine," he growled, not even bothering to keep quiet. He bit down gently on the shell of my ear, making me yelp and then moan as he thrust harder, losing himself. “All mine. No one else is ever going to fuck you like this. No one else even gets the chance.”

It hit a nerve in me I didn't know I had. I wanted to laugh, to cry, to claw at the paint and beg for more. When Knox said it, when he branded me with it, I felt safe. I wanted to be his. I wanted to belong to someone who would never let go, no matter how much I begged or bit back.

He fucked me deeper, unyielding, and I felt myself unravel. Tears pricked my eyes from the pressure and the pleasure, from the simple fact of being so completely wanted. He reached around with one hand and wrapped it around my cock. He started stroking me in time with his thrusts, not gentle, and the shock of it made me sob.

"You're going to cum for me,” he whispered, lips right at my ear.

"Please," I gasped. My voice was unrecognizable, wrecked and wild.

He fucked me harder, deeper, both hands on my hips now, pulling me back to meet him with every thrust. I pressed my forehead against the door and let him use me like a thing, like a toy he owned and loved. It was too much. I choked on a cry as I came, hard and sudden, my knees buckling. I would have collapsed if he hadn’t been holding me up, still driving into me, riding out every spasm. I came so hard I saw stars, splattering the door and my own stomach.

The feeling of me clenching around him did something to him; he lost control for a second and slammed into me, holding himself deep as he came. I felt him shudder, his breath stuttering.

He didn't let go right away. We stayed locked together. I heard the way his breathing rattled in his chest, felt the tremor in his arms. He pressed his lips to my shoulder, lingering there, the touch unexpectedly gentle.

He withdrew carefully, then pulled me into his arms, kissing the back of my neck, my shoulder, anywhere he could reach.

"I love you," I said, suddenly. I turned in his arms, resting my cheek against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slow.

"I love you, too, little boy," he whispered.

We went to the bed. He stroked my hair, kissed my forehead, and held me so close I wondered if he could ever let go.

"I can't believe this is my life," I admitted, still unsteady with aftershocks.

"I can," he said.

Chapter 31. Florian

We left at dawn the next day, the sky still streaked with pink as his driver loaded our luggage into the car.

The airport was insane, much like everything else in Knox's world. Security whisked us through some private lane I'd never known existed, a glass corridor echoing with serious wealth. I was vibrating, clutching my passport in one hand and my phone in the other (a passport that I didn't have before, by the way, arranged with extra urgency by Knox's team), trailing after Knox like an anxious duckling.