Chapter 17
Dominic
He shouldn’t have offered.
That was the thought looping through his head after the call ended.
Give me an address. He’d said it without thinking, pure instinct, and now he stood in the middle of his loft staring at his phone, irritation crawling under his skin.
He exhaled once and dialed Anderson. “I need you to pick someone up.” He rattled off the address. “Bring him to the loft.”
He paced to the windows, his reflection watching him back from the glass.
Knox hadn’t asked for help. Hadn’t even implied danger. Just one unsteady breath over the phone and Dominic had volunteered rescue. Why? He didn’t involve himself in domestic messes or blur professional lines. He definitely didn’t bring unknown variables into his private space.
The elevator alert came through thirty minutes later. He crossed the room and pressed the button to allow access to his floor. It reached the top with a soft mechanical sigh before the doors parted. Anderson stood back immediately, professional as always.
Knox stepped out, shoulders squared and expression composed. Doing a reasonable impression of someone who was fine.
Dominic’s eyes went straight to his cheekbone. The swelling was impossible to miss—red, already darkening at the edges—and there was a scrape along his jaw that hadn’t been there before.
He felt anger flare before he could contain it. Not the clean, strategic kind he used for business, but something far more volatile.
“Boss,” Anderson said.
“Thank you. You can go.”
The elevator closed. Dominic looked at Knox. “Who did that?”
Knox’s gaze skittered away. “It’s nothing.”
“That,” Dominic said, stepping closer, “is not nothing.”
He lifted a hand before he thought better of it, fingertips brushing the swollen skin. Knox inhaled sharply, the sound slicing straight through Dominic’s composure.
“Who?” he repeated.
“My mom. She wasn’t having a good night.”
The answer doused the fire, then reignited it twice as hot. Dominic turned away before he said or did something reckless. He headed to the kitchen, grabbed ice, wrapped it in a cloth, and came back, pushing it into Knox’s hand without ceremony. “Hold that there.”
Knox pressed it against his cheek with a faint wince and said nothing.
“You didn’t call anyone else,” Dominic said after a moment.
Knox looked up at him. “No.”
“Why?”
A hesitation, just long enough to be noticeable. “I… wasn’t thinking.”
Dominic stepped closer, narrowing the space enough that Knox had to feel it. “You were thinking,” he said. “You always are.”
Defensiveness sparked in Knox’s eyes. “You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
The words landed between them and sat there. Dominic let them. He wasn’t pushing to embarrass him, but he needed to understand the angle. Needed to know what had made Knox reach for his number instead of anyone else’s. It mattered. He wasn’t sure why, but it did.
“You had options,” he continued. “Friends. People who would’ve shown up. But you called me. Why?”
Knox’s jaw tightened. The ice cloth lowered, forgotten. “Other people offer meaningless comfort. They’d tell me it gets better.”
“And that bothers you?”
“It’s not that it’s bad. It just feels…” He seemed to search for the word. “Claustrophobic.”
Dominic held his gaze. “And I don’t make you feel like that?”
“I knew you wouldn’t placate me.” Knox looked at him, vulnerability moving across his face before he could stop it. “You make me feel—”
He stopped. His jaw worked like the word was harder to get out than it should’ve been.
“What?”
“Seen.” The word came out barely above a whisper.
Dominic’s expression didn’t change. Something inside him did. He held Knox’s gaze longer than necessary. “You think I see you?”
“Yes.”
Possession flared through Dominic’s chest, making him take a step closer until only inches remained. “Are you sure that’s a good thing?”
Knox didn’t flinch. “I don’t feel like I’m suffocating when I’m with you. Your world makes me forget how much mine sucks. That’s what I needed tonight. That’s why I called you.” He pressed his lips together, like he hadn’t meant to say that much.
Something dark and territorial settled in Dominic’s gut. He stepped in until there was almost nothing left between them. “You think that’s what this is?” he asked. “A distraction?”
“I don’t know what this is,” Knox admitted. His hand slipped from his face, the ice pack forgotten.
Dominic moved before he could stop it, fingers coming up to Knox’s jaw—careful of the bruise, but firm enough to hold him still.
Knox’s breathing shifted immediately.
Dominic’s thumb brushed beneath the swollen skin. Not quite soothing. Not quite claiming. “You think I just hand out my time?” he murmured.
Knox shook his head.
“What will you do for it?” He didn’t know why he’d asked. It wasn’t a question he’d planned. It hung in the air between them and changed something. He still didn’t take it back.
Knox’s throat worked once. “Tonight?” he said, voice stripped raw. “Anything.”
Dominic held his gaze and saw no retreat there.
Knox meant it.
The urge to test the answer rose immediately, to find the edge of it, to see how far Knox would actually go once the line was drawn.
“Take off your clothes,” he said.
Knox’s mouth opened. Dominic didn’t give him the space to use it. “Start with the shirt.”
A muscle jumped in Knox’s throat. Then his fingers found the hem of his shirt and dragged cotton up over his head, dropping it somewhere beside him.
The overhead light caught the pale freckles scattered across his chest, the tight pull of muscle along his ribs.
He stood with his arms at his sides, breathing fast.
Dominic watched the rise and fall of his chest until his own lungs started to hurt. He stepped back, folding his hands behind his back so Knox wouldn’t see them shake.
“Jeans,” he ordered.
Boots came off first. Then metal clicked and denim hit the floor. He hesitated in his black briefs, heat already climbing up his neck.
“All of it.”
Briefs dropped. Knox straightened, arms loose, fingers flexing like he didn’t know where to put them. His cock was hard, and Dominic’s gut twisted at the sight.
He held Dominic’s gaze. That was the thing about Knox. He always held his gaze.
Dominic couldn’t breathe.
He let his stare map every plane of Knox’s body—the bruise on his cheek, the faint tremor in his thighs, the line of his cock. Heat moved through him, searing and embarrassing in its intensity.
Submission. That was all this was about. Proof Knox trusted him enough to fracture in front of him. That was the whole explanation. Dominic filed it away and sat down.
The leather chair was low. He spread his legs and felt his suit trousers pull tight across an ache he had no intention of acknowledging. “Touch yourself.”
Knox’s hands trembled—just for a second—before he wrapped one palm around himself and inhaled sharply on impact. Dominic watched the muscle at Knox’s jaw jump with each slow stroke. He was getting harder by the second, flushed, swollen.
“Slower,” Dominic said.
Knox’s pace dragged down to something painful. His hips twitched, chasing friction he wasn’t getting. A drop gathered at the tip and smoothed the glide, and Dominic felt it like something struck directly against his spine.
He shouldn’t want this. He was aware that he shouldn’t want this. His cock throbbed against his zipper and disagreed. “Look at me,” he said.
Blue eyes lifted. They were blown wide, wild, and completely present. The room did something unsteady.
“You don’t get to finish until you’ve earned it,” Dominic warned.
Knox’s hand faltered. Sweat beaded at his temple. He was beautiful like this, and Dominic hated knowing that—hated having the word beautiful show up anywhere near his thoughts about Knox.
But there it was.
And the thought that followed it was worse.
Mine.
He dealt with it the only way he knew how. He opened his belt with jerky movements, shoving his trousers and boxers down just enough to free himself. Knox’s eyes dropped immediately and his breath stuttered out of him.
“Come here and kneel.”
Knox was already moving. His knees hit the hardwood and he stayed there, hands fisted on his own thighs, fighting the urge to touch himself for relief.
Dominic threaded his fingers into Knox’s dark curls, tugging his head up so their eyes met. “You want to come? Then suck my cock and don’t stop until I cum down your throat.”
There was no more hesitation in Knox’s eyes, only hunger and blazing intent. He licked his lips and leaned in, grip bracing on Dominic’s thigh. The first wet slide of tongue over Dominic’s crown pulled a groan straight out of him.
Oh, god.
Heat detonated through him. He hadn’t meant to make a sound like that and he resented it immediately. Knox took his time at first, letting Dominic feel every tentative press of his tongue.
His fingers tightened in Knox’s hair. “Deeper,” he ground out.
Knox opened wider, cheeks hollowing as he took more, gagged, and tried again. The vibration of his struggle dragged a curse from Dominic’s throat. He forced his hips still, refusing the instinct to thrust.
Knox found a rhythm. Sucking, tongue flat on each downstroke, hand working what couldn’t fit. Dominic’s vision fuzzed at the edges.
Focus, he told himself.
He couldn’t focus.
“Look at me,” he demanded, voice fractured.
Knox’s eyes lifted. Lips stretched around him, pupils blown. The sight triggered something savage. His hips jerked, driving deeper. Knox managed—throat working, hands braced hard on his thighs—but he didn’t retreat an inch.
The grip in his hair turned punishing. “Don’t stop.”
Half threat. Half plea. He’d think about that later.
He didn’t get much later. His climax ripped through him fast. Pulse after pulse flooded Knox’s mouth until the pleasure edged into something that almost hurt.
The boy swallowed.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Knox pulled back. Mouth shining, lips swollen, one knuckle swiped across the corner of his mouth. His eyes were still on Dominic’s face.
Dominic’s heart was going at an insane pace.
Power, he told himself. That’s all this was. Power and control.
Sure.
“Stand up.”
Knox got to his feet on unsteady legs, cock rigid and leaking. Dominic rose too, took Knox’s hand and wrapped it around the boy’s length, keeping his own hand layered over it.
“Your turn,” he said, voice rough, as he dragged their joined hands down in one firm stroke. Knox’s head fell back with a gasp. It took only three more strokes before he shuddered, shoulders curving in, cum striping both their knuckles.
A broken sound escaped him that Dominic was not going to think about.
They stood there, close enough that every breath he took brushed against Knox’s skin, harsh and ragged, neither of them pulling back yet.
“Bathroom’s through there,” Dominic said after a moment, nodding toward a door. “Clean up.”
Knox swiped his forearm across his eyes, nodded once, and turned to grab his clothes. The bathroom door shut behind him with a quiet click.
Dominic looked down at his own hand, Knox’s cum still drying across his knuckles. He would have expected some kind of disgust at having another man’s sperm on his hand like this. There was none.
If anything, there was something almost satisfying about it—proof of what he’d done to Knox, undeniable and messy and his. He crossed to the kitchen sink anyway, trousers haphazardly fastened, and washed the evidence away.
Every detail of what had just happened replayed in brutal clarity—the heat of Knox’s mouth, the way the boy’s eyes had gone glassy when he’d swallowed, the soft, desperate noise he’d made when Dominic allowed him to finish.
Goddamn it. That shouldn’t have happened.
The loft felt too quiet. The kind of quiet that pressed against his ears. He rolled his shoulders, as if shaking something off.
The water shut off. Knox came out with his clothes back on, hair damp at the temples from splashing water on his face. The bruise on his cheek stood out harsher now, the swelling more defined, spreading into something ugly. He hated how much that single mark bothered him.
They looked at each other across the loft.
Knox cleared his throat. “I’ll head out.”
Yes, Dominic thought. Do that. That was the sensible thing.
“Head out?” he said instead.
“Yeah.” Knox crouched to lace his boots, deliberately not looking at him.
He pictured Knox walking back into that apartment alone. The irritation was instant and Dominic’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “It’s late,” he said. “You’ll sleep here.”
Knox froze. “What? Dom—”
“Not a discussion. Couch is yours.”
He stood there with his arms folded, suit jacket still on, tie still straight, as though the last twenty minutes hadn’t happened. As though the room didn’t still smell like them.
Knox’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
Dominic could have conjured up a dozen reasonable answers. He gave none of them, because every one tasted thin even in his own head. He just held Knox’s stare and waited.
“You give a lot of orders,” Knox said.
“You didn’t object earlier.”
The words were out before he could stop them.
Christ.
Why the fuck had he said that? Knox didn’t need the reminder—and Dominic certainly didn’t need it either, not when he was already doing such a poor job of not thinking about it.
Knox’s eyes went wide. “That was different,” he muttered, turning half away.
Dominic dragged in a breath and pushed his voice back to the register that made people stop arguing. “Maybe.” A pause. “Order stands.”
Knox looked at the door. Looked at Dominic. Some private calculation happening behind those pretty blue eyes. Finally he unlaced a boot and kicked it free. The second followed with a dull thunk. “Fine,” he said, before stalking to the leather couch.
Dominic moved automatically, anything to keep his hands busy and his thoughts away from earlier.
That was the policy. He returned with a pillow and a thick blanket, dropping them on the cushion next to Knox.
The boy accepted them without a word, though Dominic felt him watching.
Tracking every movement, trying to decode something.
“Need anything else?”
Knox shook his head.
Dominic nodded and turned toward the bedroom. He paused at the threshold. “Six a.m.,” he said. “Set an alarm.”
“Yes, boss.” Knox tried for a grin and almost got there.
Dominic shut the bedroom door. Then he lay down fully clothed and stared at the ceiling. He was aware, with painful precision, of every inch of loft between his heartbeat and the one he’d ordered to stay under his roof.
He didn’t sleep for a long time.