Page 72 of Knox's Boy

“Holy shit,” I said, my nose pressed to the glass. “I never thought I’d get to see something like this.”

He smiled. “Only the best boys get to see this.”

A flush of happiness spread through me, so intense I almost couldn't breathe.

We turned off the main road onto a gated drive, cypress and olive trees lining the way. The villa was perched on the cliff with stone and wild bougainvillea, and from the terrace you could see straight down to the water, the kind of view that made your heart stop for a second.

I stepped out of the car and turned in a slow circle, not sure what to look at first. The sky, the sea, the house, or Knox, who was watching me like I was the only thing worth seeing.

“Welcome home,” he said.

***

Inside, the villa was even more surreal: cool tile floors, arched doorways, the scent of lemon and rosemary. Our room was bigger than my entire apartment growing up. The bed was covered in crisp white linens, and when I opened the balcony doors, sea air rushed in.

I sat on the bed, flopped back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling, wondering how anyone ever got used to this.

Knox stepped in, carrying two glasses of some golden drink and a plate of charcuterie.

“Jet lag hits hard the first day,” he said, handing me a glass. “It's limoncello. Made here, in the garden. You'll like it.”

I took a sip, and the taste exploded in my mouth. I couldn't even describe it. It was sour but sweet, delicious, light. But probably the excitement of it all made it even better. I found myself grinning, unable to stop.

He sat beside me on the bed, watching me drink. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the market in Amalfi. I want you to pick out whatever you want for dinner. You’re in charge. Anything you want.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. He nodded.

I thought about this, the sudden and terrifying amount of choice. “Can I get five different types of cheese and nothing else?”

He laughed. “If that's what you want, then yes.”

I drained the glass in one go and set it aside. The world felt fuzzy and warm.

“I can get used to it. And to calling the shots as well,” I said, bold and bratty, to get a reaction out of him, but all he did was chuckle loudly.

He stretched out on top of the covers, propping himself up on one elbow so that his body was an inviting, lazy invitation. "Come here.”

I flopped down next to him, the mattress bouncing. He caught me by the hip, rolling me so I was facing him.

“Every time you get bratty, I just want to remind you who you belong to.”

God. I stuck my tongue out at him, partly because I didn't know what to say to that. He laughed and caught my tongue between his lips, sucking and then nipping with just enough threat to make me shiver.

I bit his wrist, not hard, just enough to leave a mark that would fade before morning, just to show him that I also wanted to mark him as my own. He grinned, pleased, and rolled me underneath him, pinning my wrists above my head with one strong hand.

"You're still tired," he observed. "But you want something, don't you?"

I arched into his touch, the need sudden and embarrassing. "Yes, Daddy," I admitted. “I want you all the time.”

He let go of my wrists and slid his hand under my shirt, palm hot over my ribs. He made a satisfied noise and leaned down to kiss me. It was the kind of kiss that told me he was in no rush to be anywhere else in the world. My body responded instantly, my hands climbing under his shirt.

He took his time, undressing me with patience, pausing to kiss me, even though I wanted him to devour me. Then, it was my turn, and I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, desperate to get at his skin. He let me, watching me struggle. When I gotfrustrated, he took over, stripping off his shirt and tossing it onto the chair in the corner.

He covered me with his body, heavy and solid. I dug my nails into his back, hard enough that he hissed. I loved that sound. It made me feel powerful, even when he weighed twice what I did, even with his arms braced on either side of my head, pinning me without any real pressure. I loved how he let me fight, let me try to turn the tide for a second, just to prove I could.

“You're possessive today, aren't you, brat?” he asked, and I loved it. “Let me see how bold you are.”

I slid my hand between our bodies, palming Knox through his pants. He was already hard, but I squeezed him anyway, just to feel the power in my grip. He growled in his throat and bit my jaw, not hard enough to hurt but enough to remind me who was really in charge.