Daddy's Forbidden Room

He dragged the painting to Sandro and sat next to him on the sofa, holding his breath, because now that the time of the reveal has come, he was weirdly nervous. It was one of his best works yet, and he’d painted most of the landscape outside, in the cold, so he hoped at least his dedication counted for something, and the painting would make Daddy smile.

Sandro ripped the paper open, and Kevin held his breath during the reveal. The house towered over the island in the picture, but half of it remained obscured by several black wings, as if the ravens had entered the frame by accident.

“It’s inspired by your tattoos,” Kevin filled in, because Sandro wasn’t saying anything. “It shows that even when you’re not here, you… are. Does that make sense?” He swallowed and cuddled up to his man.

Sandro smiled and carefully put away the painting to hug Kevin. “It does actually. I love it, baby. I’m just surprised that we think along the same lines.” He reached for a small box wrapped in silver paper and gave it to Kevin. “Merry Christmas.”

Kevin grinned and sat in Sandro’s lap, greedy to unwrap the gift. He expected something special, but paused when he opened the jewelry box.

It was a sterling silver bracelet made of thick links, but the clasp was two large raven skulls holding a ring between their beaks.

When Kevin looked up at Sandro, it was his time to explain.

“I thought about you when I saw it. Even when you leave me one day, you’ll have something to remember me by.”

Kevin wanted to say that he loved it, but only a stupid sob came out of his mouth as he wrapped his arms around Sandro’s neck.

He didn’t want to think about leaving, he didn’t want to think about a life without Sandro, and he didn’t want to leave. Ever. Period.

Chapter 10

The lakes were glorious in the summer. When Sandro was home, they would often take the yacht out, and sometimes spend the night on-board. Sandro had showed Kevin how to steer, they went out swimming, and dined al fresco every morning. Kevin had learned to enjoy espresso, made his own pesto under the watchful eye of Chef Salvatore, and recently even baked cornetti filled with Nutella.

He’d dreaded the task of learning to cook when Sandro had first asked him to, but a year on, Kevin felt proficient enough in the kitchen to experiment with his own recipes. That had to be one of the many bonuses of not having access to the internet. Not only did he feel more creative, but he also spent more time without distractions, perfecting tasks at hand, be it cooking or painting.

Or fucking for that matter, but he was sure it had more to do with Sandro than with him bettering his skills. He lived and breathed Sandro. Their sex life was out of this world, and even though Sandro had never told Kevin he loved him, it was obvious that there were feelings involved and that Kevin’s stay wasn’t just about money anymore.

Kevin had never imagined two people could be so compatible. When they cuddled in bed and Sandro told Kevin about his trips, or when Kevin was cooking and told Sandro about his new painting ideas, Sandro was always so present, so invested in every second they spent together. Knowing that Sandro had lost his family made Kevin weirdly protective of Daddy’s feelings, and he always made sure Sandro knew how much he was needed.

Sandro in turn spoiled Kevin rotten. Anything he wanted, he could get. Expensive paint, any clothes or lingerie, new pillows, decorations, luxurious cheese, or truffles. He wasn’t given alcohol though, which was annoying, since Sandro teased him that he’d be legally able to drink in Italy.

Talk of trips to other countries was especially hurtful in the context of Kevin being unable to leave the island. Despite Kevin’s cage being gilded, it was a cage nevertheless. One he wouldn’t risk sneaking out of if that meant he might never come back. He had a feeling Daddy would have forgiven the transgression, but he didn’t want to test Sandro’s patience. Nor did he wish to find out what punishment would have awaited him as penance.

When Sandro left for another one of his business trips last week, Kevin had been disappointed because it was right before the anniversary of their first meeting. The anniversary of their first night together on the yacht.

He kept telling himself that the talk about him staying longer would be just a formality and that Sandro surely saw him as much more than a live-in Sugar Baby, but the approaching date of their contract ending still put him on edge. Because if Sandro didn’t want him to stay, then their time together had only been a transaction to him, after all, and Kevin didn’t even want to consider what he might do with the money. How was he to make any plans that didn’t involve Sandro?