Page 30 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

Finally, after what feels like ages, I fall asleep.

There’s still no escape for me there, though.

My dreams are full of warm, wet, inviting places, and the moans she made as I massaged her shoulders. Her damn shoulders made her moan like that! In my dreams, my mind conjures up images of how I’d like to work her into a messy puddle on the bed. How I’d thrust my fingers deep into her pussy and work her tiny human body like my plaything until she came over and over for me.

Only my arm is getting sore.

I’m angry. I don’t want to stop. Under me, Justine writhes in ecstasy and my cock throbs with an insistent need I’m not ready to satisfy yet.

The pain in my arm becomes a pain in my chest. My breath is short. My throat burns.

I thrash, throwing pillows and blankets, and anything clinging to me, out of my way. Then my nostrils pick up a lush, unmistakable scent. My hand finds something warm and soft and inviting. I pull it toward me and sigh when a pliant, feminine body curves against my side and the ache in my chest and arm disappears.

This time my sleep is restful and I don’t dream.

FOURTEEN

Justine

I wake up and it takes me a second to realize why I can’t move at all. I struggle again to roll over, but a steel band around my middle has me locked in place.

A warm, muscled, slightly furry steel band.

OK, not metal at all, just an incredibly strong minotaur arm belonging to Ronan Kernos! A squeak escapes my lips before I can stop it.

He stirs, but only hugs me tighter against his side.

I carefully withdraw my leg from where I’ve thrown it over his thigh, blushing furiously. He must not wake and find me plastered to his chest. I need to somehow manage to slip back to my side of the bed and find the pillows before he rouses and flips his lid!

Ever so slowly, I pry his hand off my belly. The butterflies inside, though, are doing a wild dance at how far below my navel his fingers had traveled. I carefully lift the heavy weight of his arm away from my chest, but as I do, I lose my hold on it, and it thunks to the mattress.

Ronan sucks in a breath and blinks open his eyes. I try to scramble away, but I only end up flopped on my face, ass up, all tangled in the blankets.

He curses and yanks the blankets. I roll like a sausage on a grill over to the far side of the bed. When I push the wild mop of hair out of my face and dare to look over at him, he has the blankets pulled over his lap, but his upper half is completely bare—bare and delicious looking.

“Where are the pillows?” he demands.

I look around guiltily. “Um...” I point to one which seems to have been flung onto the floor in the night. Another lays over the arm of the sofa chair.

Ronan narrows his eyes at me. “What part of no touching was difficult to understand?”

“Oh, my god. Are you serious?” I fling myself out of bed and run to the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. Now I’ve gone and done it. I stuff my fist into my mouth and scream silently. Why couldn’t I keep my mouth shut or just apologize and leave it at that? Only he was touching me too.

There’s a tap at the door. “Justine.”

I stare at my blotchy face in the mirror. I don’t say anything, though, because I’m not sure what I can say to make this better.

“Justine.” There’s a low sigh. “Let’s be reasonable here.” A pause. “Please come out.”

I crack open the door and peer out. Ronan steps back to give me space. Behind him, his long, tassled tail flicks from side to side. I’m about to speak, when the door to our room bursts open. Sally, the camera woman barges in.

“What are you doing?” Ronan rounds on her.

She shrugs. “Amy sent me in to see if we could get some good candid footage. Guess not. You ready?”

Ronan sighs. He stops me as we head out the door. “We’ll talk about this later.”

My belly swims with butterflies, but I follow them out to meet Amy and the rest of the crew.

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