Chapter 25. Florian #3
The final stroke landed with precision at the sensitive spot where thigh met ass, a spot that would remind me of this lesson every time I sat down for days to come. I sobbed openly now, all pretense of being tough abandoned.
"Six," Knox concluded.
I stayed bent over the desk, my breathing ragged, my body trembling. The pain radiated outward from the welts, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. I heard Knox set the cane down on the desk beside me, and then his hand was on my back.
"You can stand now, baby boy," he said softly.
I pushed myself up slowly, my legs unsteady. Knox helped me straighten, then guided me to pull up my boxers and jeans with careful movements. The fabric felt rough against my sensitized skin, and I winced as it settled into place.
Knox turned me to face him, his hands on my shoulders.
"You took your discipline so well," he said, reaching up to brush a tear from my cheek with his thumb. "I'm proud of you."
Something broke inside me at those words. A dam I hadn't realized I'd built crumbled, and suddenly I was sobbing again, but for entirely different reasons. I collapsed against Knox's chest, my fingers clutching at his shirt as he wrapped his strong arms around me, holding me securely against him.
"I'm sorry," I choked out between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Daddy."
"Shh," Knox soothed, one hand cradling the back of my head. "It's over.”
"No," I managed, shaking my head against his chest. "Not just for tonight. For everything. For being a burden, for making you rescue me, for being such a mess. I don't have anything to offer you, while you give me the world."
Knox pulled back slightly, his hands moving to frame my face, forcing me to look up at him. His expression was fierce, almost angry. "You are not a burden, Florian. Never think that."
"But why?" I whispered, voicing the fear that had haunted me since he'd carried me out of that shelter. "Why did you rescue me? Why do you like me? I'm nobody. I have nothing to give to someone like you."
Knox's eyes softened, and he guided me to the leather couch at the side of the study.
He sat down, pulling me gently onto his lap, mindful of my tender ass.
He positioned me so that my weight rested on my thigh rather than the welts, which still burned like fire, and kept one arm wrapped securely around my waist.
"You think I had everything before you came into my life?
" he asked quietly. "A big house, a successful business, money in the bank, yes.
But I was utterly alone, Florian. Most everyone I know only wants to exploit me for money.
Family, friends, partners, they all wanted something from me with some rare exceptions.
My wealth, my connections, my influence. "
I blinked up at him through wet lashes, surprised by the rawness in his voice.
"And then there was you," Knox continued, his thumb tracing circles on my hip. "This beautiful, defiant, brilliant boy who refused to use my card even when you were starving. Who tried to handle everything yourself, even when you were drowning. Who looks at me and sees a person."
"But I live in your house," I protested weakly. "I eat your food. I…"
"You give me purpose," Knox interrupted. "You give me joy. You challenge me, frustrate me, make me laugh. Before you, I existed. With you, I live." His voice dropped to a near whisper.
"I'm scared," I admitted, my voice small. "What if you get tired of me? What if I mess up too badly? What if I'm not worth all this trouble?"
Knox's arms tightened around me. "I'm scared too," he said simply. "Scared you'll wake up one day and realize you want someone your own age. Someone who doesn't need rules and structure to feel secure. Someone with whom you don't have to explain your relationship to concerned friends."
The reference to Luna made me duck my head. "She doesn't understand."
"Few people will," Knox acknowledged. "But I don't need them to understand. I only need you to trust that what we're building here is real."
"I do trust that." I whispered, resting my head against his shoulder. Knox pressed a kiss to my temple.
We sat in silence for a moment, my tears gradually subsiding as the pain in my ass settled into a deep, throbbing heat.
My cock was still half hard as well. Knox's heartbeat was steady under my ear, his breathing deep and rhythmic.
I felt wrung out, emptied of the tension and anxiety I'd been carrying since leaving the pub, but filled with something else, something warm and certain.
"You're the first real home I've ever had," I confessed, the words barely audible. "Not the house. You."
Knox's hand came up to stroke my hair, his touch achingly gentle. "And you're mine," he replied. "We found each other, against all odds. Two broken pieces that somehow fit perfectly together."
I nodded against his chest, too overwhelmed to speak. The sting of the cane still burned across my skin, but the pain felt right somehow, a physical manifestation of the boundaries that kept me safe, of the care Knox took with every aspect of my life.