Rod of Correction_ Taken and Tamed(35)

He had to admit, though, that the kidnapping idea did have a certain amount of merit. He hadn’t been thinking that such a need might arise when he’d bought them, and they were in his name. He’d be much too easily discovered, blast it!

The more he thought and remembered, the more he picked apart his own moves and decisions. He began to second-guess the idea that he’d begun something as profound as this relationship with a casual game of chance. Now, having discovered he felt more for her than pure lust, it seemed sordid, somehow, and well beneath both of them. He should have taken her out, flown her to Paris for dinner, done something extravagant that let her know he was interested in her rather than uncharacteristically going with his impulse and risking everything he wanted on the turn of a card - not that it hadn’t turned out pretty well, but he’d just been damned lucky she hadn’t drawn three of a kind to add to her pair.

Aside from that – and his unnerving inability to last more than three seconds when he was inside her, something which he hoped would diminish over time - Rod thought his biggest blunder was probably that stupid game, because it had made her wary of him in a way that the rest of the weekend hadn’t. He wanted to bang his head against the wall for having even thought of it. It had appealed to her competitive side, but she hadn’t gotten as much out of it sexually as he had, he knew, and he disliked in extreme the idea that she might be even the slightest bit afraid of him.

Which he knew was ironic, considering the things he’d done to her that hadn’t scared her, but she had consented, and he had been able to assure himself with physical evidence that she was enjoying it, too. Not so much with that horrible idea of his.

He also thought they got along well when he wasn’t slavering over her like a rabid dog. They seem to have a reasonable amount of common interests; she was smart and funny and quick-witted, and he was willing to forgive the fact that she loved country music. He genuinely liked her, and he knew that was a major component to a long-lasting relationship. When his friends – male and female – had gotten divorced, he had rarely been surprised, because he’d often observed that his friends didn’t even seem to like each other, much less love each other.

That was why he had issued his first invitation to her to join him and some of their mutual friends for poker at his place, and she’d been just as much of a delight then as she had been when they’d met at a meeting for a board they were both on, and she’d charmed the pants off of him and probably every other man there. Well, that’s what he’d wanted her to do, anyway.

She’d been invited back – not everyone was – but the whole gang had liked her, and that was a rarity. He took their opinions seriously when considering members of their exclusive little club, as it was a long standing, tight-knit group and he didn’t want to upset the perfect balance they’d achieved.

If he had to pick a perfect moment from the weekend he knew what it would be, hands down – those long, luxurious moments he’d spent with his face buried in her pussy. There was little he enjoyed more – practically more than his own orgasms. It had every element that appealed to him - it involved dominance, control, a little bit of embarrassment, a lot of blushing, plus more than enough sighs and moans and the occasional wail . . . he didn’t think there was anything he’d change about it – except that he would have kept her on the edge longer, although he conceded that it was probably just about the right amount of time, considering he hadn’t wanted to keep her up all night.

That he’d save for another time, along with a multitude of other things he was dying to do to – and with – her, and not all of them involved getting her either beneath him or over his lap, although the majority did.

That was why he had to get her to agree to see him. Hell, he’d even agree to a more vanilla relationship, if that was the only way he could get her to go out with him, and, considering how explosive they were together in a dominant/submissive relationship, that was saying something.

As he lay there, awash in amazingly detailed, intimate memories, he remained granite hard the entire night, but in case he did fall asleep he’d set his alarm for six forty-five, just before their bet ran out and they both turned back into pumpkins, intending to make use of every last minute he had with her to the fullest.

As his big bedroom grew lighter, he knew the sun was rising, and wished she was awake so that he could take her to the roof where there was another small deck facing east just for that purpose. He was wide awake when his alarm would have gone off, so he reached over and turned it off, then turned towards her. She was lying on her back, one arm at her side, the other bent with her hand beneath the pillow, one slender leg bent just enough.