Owned by My Sinful Guardian novel · Chapter 1 of 32
Chapter 1: A Stranger in the Restroom
Darby walks in on her boyfriend with another man, throws his cruelty back at him, and kneels for a stranger in a restaurant washroom, then he sits down at her dinner table as the guardian she's never met.
I picked the white silk dress because it looked innocent, and nothing about my plan for the night was.
It was Landry's twenty-third birthday.
We had been together a year, and I had decided he was finally getting all of me.
I was twenty-one, as of Tuesday, and I had never slept with anyone.
In my clutch I had a lipstick, a key to his apartment and a small pink vibrator I'd bought in a store with my face burning.
Landry's hands never seemed to know what to do with me.
I thought the vibrator might help.
I thought maybe the problem was me.
"I'm going to Landry's," I called from the front door.
My aunt Joanne leaned out of the kitchen with a dish towel.
"Don't be late, Darby. Eight o'clock. He's coming tonight."
He.
My benefactor.
The man who had paid for my whole life since my parents died when I was eight.
I'd never seen his face.
My uncle Randall said he was a cold old man who liked to be thanked.
Tonight I was supposed to thank him in person.
"I won't be late," I said.
My phone buzzed in the cab. Gretchen, from work.
"Is it done yet? Is he any good? Give me one detail, Quarles."
"Ask me tomorrow," I wrote back.
I let myself into Landry's building and heard it before I reached his door.
A man's voice, groaning, low and helpless.
I told myself it was the TV.
I turned the key.
Landry was on his hands and knees on the living room rug with his face pushed into a couch cushion.
A big dark-haired man I had never seen was behind him, holding his hips.
Neither of them was wearing anything.
"Landry?"
The stranger stopped moving.
Landry twisted around, and the color drained out of his face.
"Darby. Wait."
I didn't wait.
I was at the elevator when he caught me by the wrist, sweatpants on backward.
"Listen to me."
I slapped him so hard my palm went numb.
"A year," I said. "A whole year, and I was your cover?"
His face changed.
The guilt went out of it, and something mean came in.
"You want to talk about cover? You're exhausting, Darby."
"I gave you everything."
"You gave me a headache." He stepped close. "You're always wet. Always wanting it. You look at me like you want to eat me alive. What kind of virgin is like that?"
The elevator dinged behind me.
"You're too much," he said. "You've always been too much."
I had spent a year making myself smaller for him.
I opened my clutch and took out the pink vibrator.
I threw it at his bare chest.
"Keep it," I said. "It's the only thing in this relationship that ever knew what it was doing."
I got in the elevator and pushed the button.
The doors closed on his face.
Joanne's text came in on the sidewalk. An address in Shadyside. A restaurant called Hearth.
I wanted to go home and crawl under my bed.
But Randall would make me pay for it for a month.
The cab let me out at five to eight.
My eyes were puffy and my mascara was everywhere.
I couldn't sit down across from the man who'd bought my whole life looking like this.
I walked past the host stand and down the back corridor and pushed through the first heavy wooden door I found.
It wasn't the ladies' room.
It was a private washroom, marble and dim gold light.
And it wasn't empty.
A man stood at the sinks with his side to me.
He was huge, six foot four at least, in a black suit with his tie pulled loose.
He was in his forties, with dark brown hair to his shoulders and a face like a statue somebody had worried over.
His trousers were open.
He had himself in his fist, and he was stroking, slow and hard.
He was enormous.
He let out a low groan, and I felt it everywhere.
Landry's words were still in my ears.
Too much.
My body didn't care.
Heat rolled through me and settled low, and I was suddenly, shamefully wet.
My clutch slid out of my fingers and hit the marble.
He turned his head.
He didn't cover himself. He didn't even let go.
His eyes were green, a sharp cold emerald.
They moved over my wrecked hair, my wet cheeks, and down to my chest.
I knew what he could see through the thin silk.
"Who the hell are you?" His voice was deep and rough.
I couldn't answer.
"You've been standing there a while, sweetheart." He gave himself one long, slow stroke. "You like what you see?"
I should have apologized and run.
But if I was a freak, maybe I'd finally found where I belonged.
"Want some?"
It wasn't a polite question. It was a dare.
I nodded.
"No," he said. "Out loud. And tell me how old you are."
"Twenty-one," I said. "Yes."
"Then come and get it."
I crossed the marble in my heels and went down on my knees in front of him.
The marble was cold through the silk, and I didn't care.
He looked down at me, and the corner of his mouth moved.
"That's a good girl," he said.
I shivered so hard my shoulders shook.
"Hands on your thighs," he said. "Let me look at you first."
I put my hands on my thighs.
The silk was damp already, from the humidity of the room and the way he looked at me.
"Open your mouth."
I did.
He guided himself to my lips, and the tip of him touched my tongue, and I made a sound I didn't recognize.
"Slow," he said. "You don't have to take it all at once."
I wanted to.
I leaned in and took more of him, and his hand came down into my hair, not pushing, just holding.
"Fuck," he said, low and rough. "You're a natural little cocksucker, aren't you?"
The word went through me like a match dropped in gasoline.
I moaned around him.
"Use your hand for what you can't fit."
I wrapped my fingers around him.
He was thick enough that my thumb and middle finger didn't meet.
I worked him with my hand while I sucked the head, and he let out a groan that vibrated down my spine.
"You like that," he said. It wasn't a question. "You like having a cock in your mouth."
I couldn't answer with my mouth full, so I looked up at him.
He was watching me like I was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen in his life.
"More," he said.
I took him deeper, until the head of him hit the back of my throat, and my eyes watered.
"Easy." His hand tightened in my hair, just enough to hold me still. "Breathe through your nose."
I did.
He held me there for a long second, and I gagged once, and he pulled back.
"That's it," he said. "Again. Slower this time."
I did it again, slower.
The taste of him was salt and skin and something I wanted more of.
My own hand was still pressed between my thighs, and I was soaked through the silk, and I didn't care how that must look to him.
"That's it," he said. "Rub that cunt while you suck me. I want to watch you do it."
A whimper came out of me, muffled and desperate.
I pressed harder against myself, and the pressure went right to my clit.
"You're a hungry little thing," he said. "Aren't you?"
I pulled off him just long enough to say, "Yes."
"Say it."
"I'm hungry."
"Good girl." He guided me back onto him. "Now show me how hungry."
I took him as deep as I could, and this time I didn't gag.
My throat opened for him, and the moan he made was the filthiest sound I'd ever heard.
"Fuck," he said again. "Look at you. On your knees in a white dress with a stranger's cock halfway down your throat."
I was shaking.
I was so wet my fingers slid against my clit even through the silk.
"Faster," he said.
I moved faster.
The wet sounds I was making filled the marble room, and I didn't care, I wanted them to echo.
I wanted him to hear what he was doing to me.
"That's it. That's my girl."
My girl.
The words landed in my chest and spread.
I had never been anybody's anything.
"You like being called that?"
I nodded, still working him, my hand and my mouth in rhythm.
"Then earn it," he said. "Hands down. Both of them."
I put both hands on my thighs.
The silk was soaked through now, and my fingers twitched with the need to touch myself.
But I didn't.
I let him control everything.
"Better," he said. "Now take it all."
He put both hands in my hair, not forcing, just holding me steady, and I opened for him.
He pushed deeper, slow and deliberate, and I felt him in my throat.
Tears ran down my cheeks and I didn't care.
"Fuck, that's good," he said. "That's so fucking good."
I was so aroused I thought I might come from this alone, from the weight of him on my tongue and the sound of his voice.
He pulled back, and I gasped for air, and he let me catch my breath before he did it again.
"One more," he said. "Last one. Then I want you to make me come."
I took him deep one more time, my eyes on his, and the look on his face nearly broke me.
His jaw was tight.
His lips were parted.
His green eyes were burning.
"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever had on her knees for me," he said.
The line hit me in the chest.
Beautiful.
Not too much.
Beautiful.
I pulled back until just the head of him rested on my lower lip, and I looked up at him.
"Tell me," I said.
His eyes widened, just a little.
"Tell you what?"
"What you want me to do."
He laughed, low and dark.
"Now she finds her voice."
He guided my mouth back onto him, and I sucked hard, and his hips jerked.
"I want you to put your hand back between those thighs," he said. "And I want you to rub that clit until you come while I use your mouth."
I moaned so loud it echoed off the marble.
My hand was between my legs before he finished the sentence.
"Good girl," he said. "Now don't stop."
I didn't stop.
I rubbed myself through the silk, hard and fast, the way I liked it, while he fucked my mouth with slow, deep strokes.
"You're so wet I can hear it," he said. "That's for me. Say it."
I couldn't say anything with him in my mouth.
He pulled back, and I said, "It's for you."
"Say the rest."
"I'm wet for you."
"Because you want to be used like this?"
"Yes."
"Then show me."
He pushed back into my mouth, deeper this time, and I took him, and my fingers found a rhythm against my clit that made my thighs shake.
"That's it," he said. "Come for me. I want to feel it on my cock."
The command was what did it.
I came with a cry that was swallowed by him, my whole body clenching, my thighs squeezing my hand, my vision going white at the edges.
He kept thrusting, slower now, letting me ride it out on his cock.
"Good girl," he said. "Good fucking girl."
The orgasm rolled through me in waves, and I kept sucking, kept working him, because I didn't want it to end.
I wanted to be this for him forever.
His hips started to jerk, and his hand in my hair tightened.
"I'm close," he said. "Pull off. Now."
I pulled back.
He took himself in his hand, and I watched, still shaking, still on my knees.
"Open your mouth," he said.
I opened it.
He came with a rough, torn groan, hot and thick across my tongue and my lips, and I closed my eyes and let him.
His hand gentled in my hair, and he was still groaning, low and helpless.
"Good girl," he said again, and his voice was wrecked.
I knelt there, breathing hard, with him still spilling onto my tongue, and I swallowed.
He watched me do it.
Then his thumb wiped the corner of my mouth, and he looked at the wet shine on his skin like it was proof of me.
"Good girl," he said one more time, and I stopped breathing.
I stood up on shaking legs and turned to the mirror beside him.
He fastened his trousers without looking away from me.
I wiped my mouth, fixed my mascara with a damp tissue and pinned my hair back up.
My hands had stopped shaking.
"What's your name?" he asked.
I picked my clutch up off the floor.
"No names," I said.
I walked out before he could say anything else.
The host led me to a round table under the chandelier.
Joanne was there in her good blouse. Randall was there in his shiny gray suit, already on his second whiskey.
He looked me up and down.
"You look like hell, kid. Sit up straight. When he gets here, you smile and you say thank you."
"I know."
"Thirteen years he's paid for you. You owe him that much."
The host came back across the dining room.
There was a man behind him, tall enough that people at other tables looked up.
Black suit. Tie fixed now. Dark hair pulled back.
Green eyes.
He saw me, and he stopped walking.
All the color left his face.
Then he came the rest of the way and put his hand on the back of the empty chair across from mine.
"Darby," he said. "I'm Magnus Thorley."
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