Ward

by Margot Scott

When I asked her why my uncle would want to bother with me, she told me his own mum had passed when he was sixteen. She painted a vivid portrait of a kid who’d lost his father when he was seven, who knew firsthand what it meant to be completely alone. She convinced me to meet him, not with words, but with actions. I couldn’t imagine a person as lovely as Jen working for a villain.

Oh poor naive babe

My father, Calvin, was handsome and quick to smile, but his smile was a decoy. A snare to hold you steady until your cheek met the back of his hand. It was one trick, among many, that he reserved for my mother and me.

That’s the thing about real-life villains; the clever ones know how to blend in.

Ain’t that the fucking truth!

“This must be strange for you,” he says, his gaze direct and assessing as he takes in my pale-blue eyes and fair complexion, my soft blonde curls cascading past my shoulders. “I take it your father didn’t tell you about me.” I chew on my tongue, considering my words carefully. “He may have mentioned you once or twice,” I say. “I would have preferred he hadn’t.” His mouth tips into a humorless smile. “Your father and I were stepbrothers, but that didn’t make us family. I don’t expect you to call me Uncle.”

All I know is that Aidan O’Rourke wants to have dinner with me, and for no comprehensible reason, I want to give him what he wants.

Calvin Whittaker’s daughter is not the girl I thought she’d be. I was expecting a spoiled, petulant brat, the feminine version of her father at her age. But the girl who just left my office couldn’t be further from that description. Grace didn’t say much, but her sad eyes and gentle mannerisms spoke volumes.

If Grace is this beautiful at my table, I bet she’d look exquisite on her knees...

When I learned about Carolyn’s suicide last fall, I decided it was time to reach out to Liam. During our first meeting, I was shocked to discover he knew exactly who I was and what’d happened between me and his mother. She’d been telling him he was a product of rape from the time he was little. He’d internalized that knowledge, let it shape and mold him from the inside.

Heavy shit, and without the context is rough.

If Grace is a ray of sunshine on a patch of frozen earth, Liam is the unforeseen frost that strangles your crops. I want to avoid any situation in which she could be subjected to his brand of malice.

“Unless you want to lose that hand,” Aidan growls, “I strongly advise you let her go.”

I feel Aidan’s presence at my side like the gust of heat from an oven. My pulse bolts. He’s going to ask me what the hell I’m doing here, and no matter what I tell him, it’s going to be embarrassing. Because I want the same things you do... And I want you to do them to me.

“You want me to flog you?” I ask. “I’ve been reading about BDSM, and watching movies and how-to videos. I know I’m a people pleaser, but I’m starting to think it runs deeper than that. I think I’d like to...serve someone.”

“Watching you with the flogger,” she continues. “It did things to me. I think... No, I know I want to serve you.”

Every rational bone in my body is railing at me not to encourage her. If a Dominant came to me and said he was thinking about taking on a girl that young, I’d strongly urge him to find someone older. If he refused, I’d throw him out of my dungeon—but not before making it all but impossible for him to put his broken and battered hands on anyone, let alone an underaged girl.

Disrupt doesn’t begin to describe it. Her presence sent a shockwave throughout my meticulously compartmentalized world. What she saw last night, the desires she confessed... It’s changed everything.

I didn’t play with anyone for the rest of the night after I left Grace’s room. I didn’t want to, which is odd considering I’d gone so long without that kind of release.

I can’t guarantee Grace’s safety if she plays with strangers. Any cocky shithead can squeeze into a pair of leather pants and call himself a Dominant without bothering to educate himself on the risks involved. As Grace’s guardian, it’s my responsibility to ensure her wellbeing. If she’s mine, I can keep a closer eye on her than I could if she was merely my ward.

“This is for training purposes only. A chance to learn from someone who’s experienced. There will be rules and instructions for you to follow, both here and while you’re at school. You will call me Sir from this point forward when we’re alone, unless I say otherwise, and I will refer to you as little one.”

“Yes, Sir,” she says, smiling. Relief washes over me, leaving anticipation in its wake. The radiant creature seated on my couch is mine.

I'm beginning to wonder if this whole service-submission thing is just a ploy to make me study harder.

The more time I spend in her world, and the deeper she slides into mine, the more I want her, not just as a plaything. I want the girl, the dancer, the ray of sunshine on cracked concrete where daisies have managed to grow.

This is the closest we’ve ever been to one another. I may have initiated the contact, but it’s Aidan who’s allowing it to persist. “Why do I feel like everything is about to change again?” I whisper. His lips brush my temple. “It already has, little one.”

Dating her would bring me pleasure, but owning her, possessing her, having every inch of her glorious body under my control, will be a far sweeter reward.

I’ve never felt this invested in a BDSM partnership, especially not at such an early stage. But Grace isn’t just anyone. She’s my ward, my family. Mine...

“Do you vow to give yourself over to me completely?” I ask one last time. I need her to be sure before I engage the locking mechanism. “I’m already yours, Sir.”

I step behind her so I can lock the collar in place. Pinching the mechanism closed, I feel a wave of satisfaction surge through me. Grace belongs to me. I’m responsible for her.

“If anyone is going to claim your innocence, it should be someone you love.” Clouds roll in across her sad, beautiful face. “But...what if the man I love doesn’t want me?” “Then he’s a fucking idiot.”

So you’re that fucking idiot

“Sir—” “Don’t,” I tell her. “Don’t call me Sir. I can’t be your Dom right now.” “Then what are you?” I tease Grace’s opening, wetting my fingers with her arousal. She whimpers as I spread that slickness over her clit. “I’m the man who’s been falling in love with you since day one.”

“Can you believe my dad never invited me here once?” Liam says, stalking me like a shadow. “He only ever met me at that shitty little café.”

Yeah I can believe you little shit

“I watched through the window as they stripped you down and bent you over the chair,” he says. “Then I watched my father fuck you.” I flinch, sickened, and furious with him for tainting one of my most treasured memories. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I didn’t jerk off to it or anything. I’m not a pervert, like some people. I was there doing research, seeing how much of a threat you posed. See, I can’t risk Aidan knocking you up and leaving all his assets to you and your brat. You are a complication, Grace Whittaker. A problem I intend to solve tonight."

Ohhh I’m sooo glad you didn’t jerk off, gross

As long as Liam is breathing, Grace will always be in danger, because he won’t be satisfied until he’s destroyed everything I love. I’m still Grace’s guardian, her protector, her lover, and her Dom. I need her as much as she needs me, and I’m not willing to sacrifice her safety or her happiness to vindicate the twisted fuck I thought was my son.

My son is dead. Gone.

He deserved it after what a complete piece of garbage juice he was

The day we met I became her guardian, her protector and keeper, in the truest sense of the term.

“Don’t you dare come until I tell you to, little one.” I will wait to come. I’d wait forever, if he asked me to, just like I’ll wait to wear his ring. Because I know, in the end, the reward will be worth the wait, for the pleasure of being Aidan’s submissive. His little one. His love. His.