Chapter 39. Knox
I woke to the gentle pressure of lips against my forehead, unusual enough to pull me from sleep. Sunlight filtered through a gap in the curtains. Something smelled divine. I blinked as Florian's face came into focus above me.
"Happy birthday, Daddy!"
He stepped back from the bed, revealing the full tableau he'd arranged.
In his hands was a wooden breakfast tray laden with coffee, fresh croissants, sliced fruit arranged in a fan pattern, and what appeared to be perfectly prepared eggs Benedict, our favorite.
Beside the tray stood a crystal vase filled with roses and hydrangeas from our garden.
But it was Florian himself that truly caught my attention.
He was completely naked save for two satin bows, one tied around his throat, a deep blue that matched his eyes, and another wrapped around his already hard cock.
I felt my face soften as I took in the scene before me. "You went to all this trouble," I murmured, voice still rough with sleep.
"Of course I did! It's for you!" he replied, excited and proud. "Mrs. Gable helped with the hollandaise," he admitted. "But I did the rest. And Paulo let me pick flowers if I promised not to ruin his pruning."
He carefully placed the tray on the bedside table and handed me a handmade card, the front decorated with what appeared to be a watercolor painting of the view from our bedroom window. When had he learned to paint?
For the man who gave me everything, including a reason to wake up at 4 AM. Happy birthday, Daddy. All my love, Your Boy.
I set the card beside the tray, my chest tight. "Come here," I said, my voice rough with feeling.
Florian approached the bed.
"I'm your present! As I figured I couldn't possibly buy anything you didn't have…" he said, stopping at the edge of the bed, close enough to touch. "You can unwrap me before breakfast. It might get cold, but…"
I laughed then. I reached out, hooking my finger under the bow at his throat, and tugged him forward onto the bed. He tumbled onto me with a small yelp that dissolved into giggles as I rolled us, pinning him beneath me.
"The most beautiful gift," I murmured, trailing my fingers down his chest to the second bow. "And so thoughtfully wrapped."
He squirmed beneath my touch, his body responding instantly. "Do you like it?" he asked.
Instead of answering with words, I kissed him deeply, my hand sliding down to gently tug at the lower bow. It came undone, the ribbon sliding away. He gasped against my mouth.
"I love it," I said against his lips. "I love you."
His arms came around my neck, pulling me closer as I shifted to settle between his thighs. I was already hard, my pants doing little to conceal my arousal.
“I love you too, Daddy,” he said.
"Let me taste you first," I said, moving down his body, pressing kisses to his collarbone, his nipples, the slight ridges of his ribs. He whimpered, his fingers threading into my hair as I moved lower still.
When I took him in my mouth, he arched off the bed with a gasp that turned into a moan. I savored him, taking my time, using my tongue and lips to draw out those exquisite sounds. The bow around his neck had loosened but remained in place, blue against his flushed skin.
I reached for the lubricant we kept in the nightstand. When I pressed one finger inside him, he bucked, his body caught between the dual sensations.
"Please," he begged, his voice breaking. "Please, Daddy, I need you."
“You beg so beautifully,” I told him.
From the moment I pressed inside him, we both shuddered. I held there for a beat, savoring the tight, trembling clutch of his body and the way his mouth dropped open, as if stunned by the reality of it.
I started slow, drawing almost all the way out, then driving back into him.
Florian was vocal, always, little gasps and muffled swears at the apex of every thrust, as if he was shocked anew by every inch I gave him.
His legs coiled around me, heels digging into my back, urging me closer, harder, deeper.
I let him think he was in charge for a few strokes before I eased back, catching his gaze and holding it.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I said. He did, blue eyes wide with wonder, pupils blown nearly black.
I watched him take in every sensation, the way his lips parted and trembled with each inhale, the sweat starting to pearl at his hairline.
I reached between us, fingers curling around him, matching the thrust of my hips with the rhythm of my hand.
He whimpered, biting down on the pad of my thumb when the sensation threatened to overwhelm him.
“Let go,” I whispered, mouth against his ear, “don’t hold back.
” He nodded, the movement jerky, and I could feel the tension winding tighter and tighter inside him.
I shifted my angle, searching for that spot I knew, and when I found it, his entire body seized, back bowing off the mattress.
His cries were muffled at first. He buried his face against my neck, but I wanted to hear him.
"My beautiful boy," I praised, adjusting the angle to make him cry out. "My perfect birthday gift."
“Daddy, m-may I…?”
“Yes, you may cum.”
His release came suddenly, intensely, his body clenching around me as he spilled between us with a primal growl. The sight of him undone, combined with the exquisite pressure, sent me over the edge seconds later, my own orgasm crashing through me with unexpected force.
Afterward, we lay, breathing heavily, my weight partially supported on my forearms to avoid crushing him. Florian reached up to trace my jawline, his expression soft with satisfaction and love.
"Breakfast is definitely cold now," he murmured, a lazy smile spreading across his lips.
I glanced at the untouched tray, then back at him. "Worth it," I said, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Though it was a lovely effort. We can reheat it."
He laughed softly. "Happy birthday, Daddy."
I rolled to his side, pulling him against me. "It certainly is now. The best one yet."