Page 22 of Ward

Aidan

WhenFionapulledme aside to tell me she'd seen Grace in the crowd, I didn't want to believe her. After everything the girl has been through, the abuse she endured at her father’s hand, the last thing she needs to see is her guardian flogging a woman for his own, and everyone else’s, amusement.

The instant my gaze locked on Dante's hand around Grace’s throat, my body sprang into action. I pride myself on being patient and controlled in all areas of my life.

But in that moment, a switch flipped.

Dante has been my friend for almost a decade. I’ve even loaned my own subs to him on occasion. And I was ready to break all five of his fingers to remove them from Grace’s neck.

I make her walk ahead of me up the stairs, not taking my eyes off her for an instant. My fellow Doms and I have strict rules about not allowing underaged guests at our play parties. There’s no way I can look at Grace and not see how innocent and untouched she is, but I can also see why my guests might assume she’s here to play. These skin-tight leotards she insists on wearing leave nothing to the imagination. The first time I watched her dance, I had no trouble discerning the exact size and shape of her nipples. Not to mention the shallow cleft between her legs.

If she were my daughter, I’d make her wear a goddamn ski suit whenever she practiced in public. But Grace isn’t my daughter, and she sure as hell isn’t mine. I'm responsible for her wellbeing until she comes of age, but she doesn't belong to me.

This situation has me reeling. My body’s still buzzing from the scene I just walked out of, and my brain hasn’t had time to transition away from Dom mode.

Grace pauses at the top of the stairs, awaiting my further direction with wide, expectant eyes. She’s nervous, and I don’t blame her for feeling that way. The last time a submissive came to the house, Grace was clearly shaken by the sounds she heard. Now she’s witnessed me flogging a sub's back; it only makes sense that she’d be on guard.

I point in the direction of Grace's bedroom and follow her inside, pulling the door shut behind me. She spins to face me, holding her own hands.

“You weren’t supposed to be here tonight,” I say.

“My ballet class was canceled. I decided to come back early.”

“You should’ve called first.”

“I don’t have your number. And I did text Jen when I left school, but she didn’t respond.”

“That was an oversight,” I tell her. This afternoon, I explicitly instructed Jen to take the night off, which included a direct order to turn off her work phone.

I take a deep, stabilizing breath, wishing I’d thought to put a shirt on. At the moment, I find Grace’s unblinking gaze unnerving. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve been turned inside out. Things that were supposed to be kept secret are now on full display.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” I tell her.

“I’m not,” she says, so softly I almost miss it. “What you did in the gym. That’s what you and Fiona were doing the night I heard you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” After everything she’s seen tonight, there’s no point in being anything but frank. “I’m sure you have questions, and I’ll do my best to answer them.”

Something in the way she’s looking at me makes my heart beat faster. I know that look, that raw, naked desire. She wants something she doesn’t think she can have. Something she’s afraid to ask for.

“What if I wanted you to do it to me?”

I blink twice before her words fully register.

“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.”

The mental image of Grace bound to a St. Andrew’s Cross flickers across my mind’s eye. If I weren’t still humming like an engine left to idle, I’d have an easier time pushing it away.

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

Of all the reactions I expected her to have, this isn’t even in the same zip code. Grace watched me flog and cane a woman, and instead of apprehension, she felt...things.

I run a hand down my face, struggling to come to terms with what this ray of sunshine is telling me. She wants to be on her knees, wants to be bound, flogged, and caned.

And she wants me, her guardian, to do it to her.

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.

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