Page 30 of Fixing Olivia (Fairford Affairs)

Aiden

How they were already at the end of day five, Aiden had no idea. In all his years at the Manor, a week had never flown by so quickly, and he found himself wishing there was a way to extend Olivia’s stay.

But she would be leaving on Saturday morning, whether he wanted her to or not, and his next guest would arrive Sunday afternoon like clockwork.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Olivia said, watching him from the other side of the bed.

“Hmm?” He glanced over at her. Christ, she was beautiful. She was sprawled on top of the duvet, belly down and completely naked. He was sure her luscious ass and thighs hurt too much for any form of contact, as they still bore all his marks.

They’d spent the day down in the dungeon, trying every single thing Liv was interested in. Aiden wanted her to have confidence in herself when she left the Manor and took her next steps into the lifestyle at home. If she knew how all the equipment and furniture worked, and how everything would feel, maybe she wouldn’t be too anxious to try again.

She even had a single cane mark across the center of her bottom. The one had been enough for her, and Aiden had held her for several minutes after she’d shouted her safe word.

“I’m just wondering what has you brooding so sexily,” Olivia said with a little smile.

Aiden smoothed his expression. “Nothing for you to worry about,” he told her, keeping his tone light. “I was only thinking about how hungry I am, but the kitchen’s already closed for the night.” It was nearly midnight.

Propping herself up on her elbows, Olivia said, “I’m starving, actually. Want me to go get us a snack?”

“You’re such a good girl,” Aiden said, brushing her hair out of her face. “Go see what you can find for us. Just make sure you don’t make a mess of Gabriel’s kitchen, or he’ll come after you with a wooden spoon in the morning.”

Laughing as if she didn’t believe him (on her own sore ass be it), she climbed out of bed and started to dress. She was about to pull a shirt over her head when Aiden ordered, “Stop.”

The tank top hung limply from her arms. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all,” he said, motioning for her to drop her shirt. “You’re perfect exactly as you are.”

Looking down at her black lace bra and skimpy panties, she seemed confused for a few seconds. Then a glorious blush reddened her skin, and she gave him a shy smile as she dropped her shirt on top of the dresser. “You want me to walk through the house like this, Sir?”

“Mmhmm,” he said, rising and crossing the room to her side. Aiden ran a possessive hand over her ass, making her wince at the rough handling. “These marks are too beautiful to cover up. Let everyone see what a naughty girl you are.”

Her breathing grew heavier, and she leaned into him, eyes half-closed. “As you wish, Sir.”

“Good girl.” He bent to capture her mouth with his, kissing her deeply, forcing her to arch her back. Olivia melted against him, her hands quivering against his chest as he plundered her mouth with his tongue. She tasted so damn good, like the red wine and dark chocolate they’d shared a few hours ago. Though it made him long for something sweeter.

Christ, if this went on much longer, he wouldn’t be eating anything but her pussy.

Ending the kiss by sheer force of will, Aiden turned her toward the door and gave her ass a gentle pat. Even that was enough to make her hiss. Poor thing. Most of her hurts were easily soothed with some of the cornerstones of aftercare: warm baths and massages, creams and salves, and long nights asleep in the arms of her Dom. But that cane mark might take a week to heal. “Hurry back,” he said, “and after we eat, I’ll rub some of the numbing cream you love on your bottom.”

“Deal,” she said, throwing a radiant smile over her shoulder as she hurried out the door. The sight of her—mostly naked, marked from ass to mid-thigh, beaming up at him like he was her whole world—made his heart stop.

Oh, he was so fucked.

He’d fallen for Olivia Adams. Completely, utterly, irrevocably. There was zero point in denying it anymore.

And there wasn’t a fucking thing he could do about it. She may have been different from the other women he’d been with—more open, more passionate. Definitely more fragile. But none of that changed the fact she’d come to the Manor for the same reason as the rest of them: because he was a Dom-for-hire. Like his ex from college, it was about the sex and nothing more.

If only Giselle had permanently cured him from catching feelings.

Sighing at his own stupidity, he went to search for the cream, unable to remember where he’d last left it. He’d already given up on the dresser and was digging through the little drawer in his bedside table when a high, shrill scream tore through the quiet house. A second, lower scream came only moments later, and he was one hundred percent sure that one was Olivia.

Aiden slammed through the door and ran as fast as his legs could carry him. And his weren’t the only footsteps pounding through the halls. At least two others were sprinting toward the sounds emanating from the kitchen—sounds that now had all the classic hallmarks of a catfight.

“What the fuck is Stacey doingnow?” Jonathan said, as he and Aiden rounded into the back hall from opposite directions.

Aiden pushed past Jonathan and hurtled through the dining room without responding. If Jonathan’s sub had hurt his Olivia, there would be hell to fucking pay.

Relief rushed through Aiden when he finally burst through the kitchen door, finding Rafe with both arms around Stacey, doing his level best to restrain her. Rafe was well more than twice her size, but he clearly had his hands full: she was writhing, flailing, kicking, biting, and anything else she could do to get away, all the while screaming her head off.

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