Page 48 of Taming Her

* * *

That evening after a vegetable stir-fry supper, Griff permitted Ava to sit on the sofa at his side while they watched TV. Apart from anything else he didn’t think her ass, which must still be smarting from over one hundred spanks the evening before, would cope very well on the floor.

The day had been warm, the breeze gentle, and they’d only seen each other. He considered that to be pretty much perfect. In fact it was so good, it wasn’t something he’d have ever dreamed could happen.

He’d made his peace with losing Ava—kind of—all that time ago. Yet here they were in his cottage together. A second chance. Another go at it.

Griff had no intention of messing it up.

And the only way to do that was to keep her close, prove to her that she could trust him entirely, with her body and her heart.

He knew that now.

Hewas also a different type of lover these days.

He’d acknowledged his curiosity in domination, explored it, learned about it and now, as a member of a local club, considered it to be part of who he was. He was a dom, nothing would ever change that. Not now.

And damn, having Ava submit to him at the end of the garden had been incredible. Not a peep of complaint, she’d taken to it like a natural, folding before him, taking his cock, working him with enthusiasm and skill. He could almost have fooled himself into believing she’d had a master before. But of course she hadn’t, and her other misdemeanors—cheek, glares, touching what she shouldn’t—were proof of that.

But what if they really could make a dom/sub relationship work? Ava wouldn’t be the first woman who’d lacked attention from her parents to enjoy having a master, flourish under his rule even. And Griff certainly wouldn’t be the first dom to take on such an unruly case.

“So you see,” she said. “The rose just needs a good trim back. Have you got some tools?”

“Er, yeah.” He looped his arm over her shoulder and drew her close. She’d been chatting on about the garden and all the things he could do with it for an hour. Ideas and thoughts were literally spilling from her.

She snuggled in, resting her small, elegant hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, did you want to watch this program? I keep talking.”

He chuckled. “No, not really. Carry on, what were you saying?”

“Tools? Are there any? Perhaps tomorrow, if the weather is nice again, we could make a start sorting out the patio area. It would be much better to look out on from the kitchen.”

“I’m sure there’s some tools in the shed. We’ll take a look.”

Griff sat quietly, holding her, breathing in her freshly showered scent, and listening to her chatter.

She was like a little girl who’d been given a pony. The garden certainly had given her something else to think about other than partying and for that he was very grateful. What was more, the disastrous state of it seemed to inspire her. A blank canvas almost, to throw ideas at.

A thought came to him and he glanced over at his laptop. If he got a few free minutes he’d take a look online.

Chapter 10

Ava woke in the night with her heart pounding. She was hot and sweating, her brow and underarms damp.

Griff was lying on his back with the covers drawn up to his neck. He was breathing slow and steady, with the occasional tiny snore.

Pushing back the covers, she rose from the bed and walked to the open window. She dragged off the vest top she’d gone to sleep in and let the night air wash over her breasts.

Outside all was still. A full moon shone silver threads onto the garden—the garden that was swirling around her head—lighting the trees and shrubs and glinting off the metal rails that had once upon a time supported the netting for the berry bushes.

Movement caught her attention—a large shadow swooping silently from the oak tree.

A tawny owl.

She smiled at the magical sight, her heart rate returning to normal. When had she last seen an owl? Or even taken the time to look for one? She didn’t know.

Griff cleared his throat. “Ava.”

“Yes?”

---