Page 14 of Fixing Olivia (Fairford Affairs)

She moaned, wishing she wasn’t restrained. That she could push back against his hand, taking more of his finger into her.

There was the sound of a bottle opening, and then something cool and wet drizzled into the crack of her ass. Aiden gathered the lube on his fingers, coating them generously, and then plunged a finger into her asshole. He pumped it in and out a few times, spreading the lube around, preparing her for the plug.

Olivia had done this to herself more times than she could count. She loved to have a plug in while she read her sexy books, and especially when giving herself pleasure. A couple of times, she’d even worn one as she cleaned her apartment, pretending her imaginary Dom had ordered her to do so as punishment for some misdeed or other.

But that was nothing at all like what Aiden was doing to her now. How he was making her feel. She wished her legs weren’t restrained so far apart. She was desperate to clench her thighs together, to try to relieve some of the ache.

A few seconds after Aiden removed his finger, the blunt tip of the anal plug pressed against her tight ring of muscle. He pushed it into her, taking his sweet time like an absolute devil. When the thickest part of the plug was finally in her, she let out a long, low moan of relief, but then he pulled it out, making her groan. He pumped the plug in and out of her ass several more times, until she was both moaning with desire and ready to scream in frustration.

“My, my,” Aiden said with a dark chuckle. “We are a little anal slut, aren’t we?”

He had no fucking idea.

When at last the plug was fully seated, the wide base cold against her spread cheeks, she let out a long, shuddering breath. How she’d survived her entire adult life without experiencing anything like this was beyond her. What an empty, boring life it had been.

Before she’d even started adjusting to the sheer size of the plug, Aiden rubbed the smooth side of the paddle against her bottom, letting her feel the warm, lacquered wood. “Six months you made me wait for you,” he said, resting a hand on her lower back. “Six months, when I had openings starting in March. Do you know how hard it’s been? How I’ve longed for you?”

Was that true? Had he really longed for her, the way she’d longed for him? It was almost too good to believe. “I—I’m really sorry, Sir. I didn’t know.”

The paddle continued its slow slide across her skin, back and forth, back and forth. “Why did you make me wait, Olivia? Why did you torture us both?”

Guilt formed a deep, aching pit in her stomach, and she blinked back tears. “I was excited to come here, but also so afraid. I—I thought it would give me enough time to get used to the idea.” And yet she’d still had two panic attacks on day one. If anything, all the buildup had made it even more terrifying.

That had clearly been a great fucking plan.

“I see.” The smooth wood stilled, pressed firmly against the center of her ass. “And now that you’re here, you want to be my good girl, and make it up to me, don’t you?”

She very nearly said,Fuck yes, but stopped herself at the last second. The whole no cursing thing was taking some getting used to. “Yes, Sir. More than anything.”

Aiden’s hand brushed down her spine, coming to a rest at the small of her back. “I think we’re going to start with six strokes with the paddle. Let’s see how you take those, and I’ll decide where to go from there.”

Six didn’t seem too bad. Quite tame, actually—almost a letdown. The women in her books could all take way more than that. And the sub across the dungeon had received twenty-five with the much more severe cane. She tried to keep her butt relaxed as Aiden raised the paddle for the first stroke.

Fucking God and holy fucking Jesus, that hurt. How she managed to keep that string of profane blasphemy from coming out of her mouth, she had no idea. But that’s what Aiden wanted, so the only sound she made was a high, keening cry.

“That’s for January,” Aiden said, rubbing the paddle over her bottom to relieve some of the sting.

Another stroke, even harder than the first one.

“February.”

They ran through the six months of their mutual torment, her tears hot against her cheeks. For June—the hardest stroke of all—he switched to the other side of the paddle. Even though the edges were rounded and smooth, the engraving still bit into her skin, and she was sure it had left its mark.

“Beautiful,” Aiden said, tracing the floral pattern on her red, swollen flesh. “You did so well.”

Olivia let out a long, soft sigh. “Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much.” She wasn’t even sure what she was thanking him for. Calling her beautiful? Praising how she took his punishment?

Making one of her oldest, deepest fantasies a reality?

All of the above, she supposed.

There was the tear of a foil condom wrapper, and not long after, he gripped her hips. “I’m going to fuck you now, Olivia. You have permission to come.”

And then he was finally inside her, pushing his whole length in with one fluid stroke. “Holy fuck.” The strangled words left her mouth before she could stop them. She was so impossibly full.

“Careful,” Aiden warned, stopping with his cock still filling her, his hips pressed tightly against her throbbing, plugged ass. “Or I’ll have to give you a few more with the paddle when we’re done.”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” she forced out, but she wasn’t really. How could he expect anything different after what he’d done to her?

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