Page 17 of Knox

What do I think? My head is full of questions, but the sight of everything and smell of the leather has my dick reacting the way it always does in a playroom—it gets hard. “I’m confused,” I tell him honestly. “Why do you have this here? You said you never have people, subs, here.”

“Because I teach people how to dominate and submit. It’s a little side line of mine. Not many people know about it. I keep it low key and only take on serious clients.” He kisses my neck as he caresses my ribs and hips, his hands moving lower, one cupping my arse cheek, the other my cock. “Hmm, I love how you’re reacting. I’ve seen you fall into the zone when we’ve played in the rooms at Bound; you can’t help it.”

Wow, I never expected that answer, but it leads to more questions. How and when are the first ones that come to mind. He’s always been a workaholic at the gym; his brothers always tease him about it. “How do you get clients if nobody knows about you?”

“Word of mouth usually and a few trusted people know. The owner of Bound knows, and a few other club owners. My clients come from all over the country—it’s not just local.”

I twist my head to look at him. “Bloody hell, Knox. You’re such a dark horse.” I look back at the room as he lazily strokes my knob. “What are we going to play with first?”

I’m surprised when he shakes his head. “Not in here, baby. This is work. You can choose anything you want, and we can take it back to bed.”

I look in the room and twist around to face him, and his hand drops from my cock, only to move them both to my arse, kneading the flesh a little harder than gentle. “I’ll pick something for tonight. For now, I’m more than happy with what you can do with your hands.” I kiss him. “Your mouth.” Another kiss. “And this.” I squeeze his hard cock and give it a tug.

Knox’s hands tighten as he lifts me. I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist and tangle my hands in his hair.

We pull up and stop in a parking space in Bound’s car park. Knox turns off the engine and turns to face me. “I want to show you off as my boyfriend, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t share if you’re in the mood. We can play with another Dom or sub; I’m letting you run the show tonight. As long as we go home together, I’m happy.”

This was something I’ve been deliberating, because I love a threesome, and enjoy giving my body to two men…or three. I’ve done that, too, and loved it. “You know how much I love that. It’s different now; I don’t want to be without you in any playtime. As you just said: as long as we’re together, I don’t mind who else you ask.” I take a deep breath. I’m not going to declare my love for him, not in a sex club’s car park, but he should know how I feel. “I have feelings for you, Knox. Real ones that I’m not ready to say out loud, but you’re it for me. As my boyfriend and my Dom. I trust you with my body, and more importantly, I trust you with my heart. Be kind to it.”

“Fuck, Roe. I’m with you. It’s early in our relationship, but we’ve known each other a long time. We know each other’s bodies along with feelings and emotions. I won’t ever break your trust.” He gives me a lascivious smile. “But watching another man fuck you is hot as fuck. Being with you at the same time is even better. I don’t want anyone else with you without me too. We’re on the same page, babe.”

“Let’s go and have some fun then.”

I’ve spent the last year learning not just my new life and background but learning skills I’ll need to get a job. After never really bothering to go to school, I had to take some lessons to get a couple of GCSEs done. Being taught one-to-one is so much easier than being in a school or college classroom. My tutor is a really cool guy called Glen. He’s not much older than me, but he’s so smart. I felt stupid at the beginning and felt like I was being patronised. But as I picked up and understood, I enjoyed myself. I didn’t have to get top grade results, just enough to give me some certificates on my CV when I apply for jobs. That’s another part of the new me, learning skills to get me a job. I wanted to go for something with people around me, to make some friends.

I don’t have a problem with my leg anymore, and the scar isn’t too bad. And if I’m honest with myself, I’m quite proud of it. Of surviving something that should’ve killed me. The physiotherapy was painful, but Claire, my physiotherapist, had me up and moving as soon as I got the all clear from the hospital. Again, one-to-one daily training made it go much faster. I’m now addicted to the gym and training. I’d like to run a marathon next year, so I’m running through the hills down to the huge lake and attempting the perimeter, which is around twenty-four miles. I’ve done it on a bicycle, but my aim is to have run it before I leave here. I’m on edge, waiting for the day I’m told I must leave. I’m feeling fifty/fifty about the whole thing. I feel safe and protected here, but it can also feel like a cage locking me in.

Something is up. There are a lot of whispers from the staff here, but they shoot off in every direction if I come across them, scattering like ants escaping boiling water. It’s mid-afternoon when it all becomes clear. Cole and Pilkington come into the huge solarium at the back of the house.

“Maddox, it’s good to see you again. You’re looking great. I can hardly recognise you,” Pilkington says, and I often wonder if he even has a first name.

“Thanks, it’s a good place to be, after living in the city all my life. I’ve got used to the quiet,” I tell him honestly. It’s true, and I hadn’t realised just how deeply involved in the underworld I had become— one where pimps and prostitutes had become the norm. It was nothing to see one of DeVon’s lackeys fucking one of the girls, some of them really young, especially the new ones. It was part of the training, to get them used to being fucked by strangers. Or having to suck one off. That was one side of the business I didn’t want to be a part of. Mainly because of Ellis and what he’d been forced to do. And being gay also was not acceptable; the names they would freely drop were disgusting.

“Then me telling you that it is time to move on and back to normality isn’t going to be good news,” he says drily. “Not back home, of course, but back to civilisation. Nowhere too huge. York to be exact. I think you’ll like it there. We have a place for you to live, not quite up to this standard, I’m sorry to say. Something more age appropriate, a flat in a new building overlooking the river. A job, too, where you’ll be able to put all your new skills to the test. Not very exciting, just a call centre, but it has plenty of people your age.”

The surge of excitement that runs through me is a surprise. I hadn’t thought much about life past here. There had never been a time limit on here. It was always when they felt I was ready to go. I think they got it right.

“Cole,” Pilkington continues, “will be taking you and getting you up to date on the hows and whys of you moving to York. He’s also staying there for a while, a settling in period, if you like. You don’t need to see him if everything is going well, but if you need him for anything, he’s on your doorstep, so to speak.”

“You want to do what?” Cole asks, shaking his head in bewilderment.

It’s been over ten years since I died, and I’m bored. I need some excitement in my life. I spent six years in York, and I’ve been in Bristol for five. It’s good here, and I’ve got a great circle of friends and had more than a few lovers, including Cole. He has done more for me than I ever thought I’d need, including introducing me to the world of BDSM and the life within in that community. My lessons in becoming a Dom have been life-changing; the ability to centre myself and focus on the sub and his needs has taught me so much. Which is one of the reasons I want to do MMA. I have a strength and energy I need to expel, and this is a great way to do it. Again, it’s all about control.

“MMA. I want to compete, to be a champion. You know I’m bored with kickboxing. I want a new challenge, and it looks right up my alley. I reckon I can do it.” I finish my reps and place the weights back on the rack.

He shakes his head; he knows I’m always chasing the next thrill. I blame him, and he knows it, but he has to be reminded sometimes. “Maybe if you hadn’t sent me into hell to kill me.”

“Not that again.” He rolls his eyes. “Okay, so what next?”

“A trainer and that’s your job. Find me the best one out there.”

He grimaces at the thought, and I know it’s because this means exposure. It will need to be someone approved by Cole under Pilkington’s direction. His face makes me laugh, and I make it worse by hugging him against my hot and sweaty body.

“Get off me. I don’t want your cooties.” Then he straightens up and becomes serious. “I’ll have to run this past the boss. Not the training part, you know you can do that to your hearts content, but anything that can put your face out there has to be considered.”

I know it’s true even after the surgeries I’ve had to alter my face, including changing my eye colour. That freaks me every time I look in the mirror. I’d argued that one for a long time, but seeing as they picked up my bills, I had to relent. The chin and nose were child’s play after that. I know I’ve got complacent, but there hasn’t been even a sniff of recognition in nearly a decade. “Fine, do what you’ve gotta do, but I’m going for this.”

Pilkington wasn’t impressed, but he didn’t say no.