Page 74 of Married to My Grumpy Minotaur Boss

“Then we’re not done.” Gathering the come leaking out of her, I fuck it back into her pussy with my fingers. Two deep in her pussy and my thumb on her clit work her until she’s writhing.

She tries to close her legs around my hand, but I don’t let her. Instead, I pin them open and finger her faster. Rougher. I give it to her until she’s screaming.

Liquid gushes over my hand. Mine. Hers. Both probably. Doesn’t matter. It’s fucking gorgeous.

I make her come four more times before she begs for mercy and I let up.

Gathering her into my arms, I roll us until she’s resting on my sweaty chest. My poor cock finally rests limp against my thigh and I can barely muster the energy to stroke her hair back from her neck.

“You’re incredible.” I sigh, trailing my fingertips down her spine. “Don’t ever let anyone make you believe you’re less than that.”

She’s quiet for a long time. I figure she’s processing what I’ve said.

At least she hasn’t tried to deny it.

Maybe when this is all over, she might remember me and what I told her.

I sure as hell won’t forget her easily. I can’t even put my finger on what it is about her that has me so addicted. Perhaps the soft, sweet, needy woman who is so much sexier than she lets herself believe. Perhaps the way she looks at me like it’s me who made her like that instead of merely waking up what was dormant. There’s so much more to explore here.

I’ve never considered that angle before. A lover who could grow with me, explore with me. Dangerous ground.

Justine snuggles against my chest and lets out a deep sigh. “Do you want to talk about what happened before?”

I stiffen. “What do you mean?”

“About the fact that things got weird when our parents started asking about kids. I know you said you don’t want kids, but for what it’s worth, I think you’d be a great father.”

Gently, I disentangle myself from her.

Immediately, my chest tightens, as if rolling her off increased the pressure on my sternum, not lessened it.

“I can’t do this right now, Justine.”

She lifts her head to look up at me. “Oh. Yeah. Sorry. I didn’t mean—”

I cut her off before she can apologize. After all, it should be me apologizing for this evening. “It’s not because I don’t think I’d be a good father. Of all people, my mother should know that.”

Justine doesn’t say anything more. I hate the way she won’t meet my eyes, but I tell myself it’s for the best.

“You’re easy to talk to and it’s tempting to burden you with things which aren’t your problem. Suffice it to say that my genes aren’t ones I should be passing on.”

“Oh, Ronan. I didn’t think. Your father’s heart condition is—was genetic?”

“Yes.” Before I can think too carefully about it, I reach out and stroke a hand through her hair, the action instantly calming my racing pulse. “It is. I don’t know if I have it. I’ve never been brave enough to take the test until recently. I’m still waiting on results from my doctor.”

She blinks up at me. “The appointment?”

I nod.

Instead of pushing me for more answers or telling me there’s a chance a child of mine wouldn’t inherit the condition, she’s silent, teasing her fingers through the hair on my chest thoughtfully.

Eventually, I break the silence. “Do you think I’m being melodramatic?”

She shakes her head. “No. I’d probably feel the same. I’m sorry that being on the show brought all this up for you. It can’t be easy being forced to talk about something that makes you feel so uncomfortable.”

There she goes, excusing my bad behavior. A knot of worry in my guts loosens, but it doesn’t stop the guilty prickle at the back of my neck. To distract myself I pull her back against my front and curl around her. “Let’s get some sleep. I’ll have to go and sort this out with the film crew in the morning and my mother. I suppose I ought to apologize to your family as well.”

“I can’t talk to them about it, if you like.” Justine smothers a yawn and I nuzzle my nose into her neck.

---