Page 51 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

“Justine,” I warn in her ear when she lets out a soft moan. “You’ll have to be quiet, though. Do you think you can?”

Another whimper is my response.

I bring the hand I have under her up to cover her mouth. “Shhh.” With my right hand, I slowly skate my fingers down until they meet a very wet, very needy pussy.

It’s all I can do to smother my own grunt of awareness.

My cock throbs in my pants, pressing insistently against the seam of her ass.

Justine’s mouth opens and I stuff my fingers inside, muffling the cry she lets out when I find her clit.

Then her soft lips close around my digits and she rolls her hips to fuck my hand like the needy little toy she is.

Fuuuuuuuck.

I’m praying no one is watching this footage as I work her clit in tiny circles, drawing moisture from her cunt to lubricate my movements. There is no way anyone could mistake what we’re doing here. Trouble is I’m too far down this very slippery slope to stop, and I think Justine will scream the place down if I try.

She whimpers again around my fingers as her body bucks against my fingers. My dick throbs in response. God, she’s heaven, this succulent little human. How didn’t I see it before?

The answer, of course, is that I deliberately didn’t see it. Because I can’t fucking see it.

I can’t fucking see this and not want to play with her every second of every day.

What the hell am I going to do now that I have?

I can’t worry about that right now. Not with her breathy little cries in my ears and her slick on my fingers.

I give her more pressure. My own breath rasps in my throat as she gets closer.

She goes very still when she comes for me. She even holds in her breath as she comes apart.

“That’s my good girl,” I whisper to her, holding my thumb against her clit and plunging two fingers inside to draw it out a little longer.

Justine’s tight pussy clenches tighter around me in waves as she keeps coming.

Finally, she’s done. When I slide my fingers from her wet heat, I lift them to her mouth. “Taste it, girl. You earned it.”

She opens her lips and I switch hands so she can lick my fingers clean of her slick. Then I clamp down with all the willpower I can muster on the urge to roll her onto her belly and stuff that pussy full of my hard, swollen cock to find my own release.

A few more hours. Not even a full day. Then I’ll be back in my own apartment and I can beat off as many times as I like to the memory of her sweet little cries.

TWENTY TWO

Ronan

My hand still smells like pussy.

Her pussy.

That’s the only thing I can think about as I pace the room, unable to decide what to write on the stupid card Amy handed me.

A matter of hours are left until I can go home and be done with this farce. A matter of hours until I can stand in my own shower and jerk my cock to the memory of her sweet little sighs and give myself the relief I so badly need. Buckets of it.

And yet...

If I write no on the card and choose not to renew my vows, I’ll probably never see Justine again. She can’t keep working as my assistant. Not now. Not now I know how lush and sweet her body is beneath the simple blouse and skirt she wears most days. Not now I know how she tastes when she comes.

I’d never be able to keep my hands off her.

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