Married to my Grumpy Minotaur Boss (Grumpy Monster Bosses #1)

by Ami Wright

“Let me get more wood for the fire. You’re cold. Not running away. Just taking care of you. OK?”

I think you have enough wood....

Not going there. I have a feeling I’ll never manage to keep my hands off her if we go there. I really, really want to go there.

“Did we fuck? No. Did I make you come better than anyone ever has? You’d better tell me.”

“You’re goddamn beautiful like that. When you let yourself go. Someone should have told you that before now.”

Clearly, I have a lot to learn. I mean, I didn’t even know I could squirt. I didn’t even know I could come more than once at a time!

“You deserve effort,” he says eventually. “You deserve someone who’s prepared to do that for you.” He doesn’t say he would do that for me.

The only thing that held me back was knowing the mess I’d make. A minotaur is bad at the best of times, but after days of not coming... I’m going to need a mop and bucket to clean up when I finally get to jerk off.

“On how many times I’ve come already that day. On how turned on I am, on my partner. On whether she’s come enough times yet.”

God, she’s heaven, this succulent little human. How didn’t I see it before?

she deserves to feel special. I bet no one ever made her feel like that in her life. If there’s one good thing that can come out of this arrangement before it’s time to let her go, at least I can do that.

Did he—? Did Ronan Kernos just give me permission to call him Daddy?

Then her hands find my horns and babygirl learns what they were made for.

wake to warm yellow sunshine and a rich, distinctive scent it takes me a moment to recognize. Sex. I smell like sex. Specifically, I smell like sex with Ronan Kernos.

I look forward to a full review of the book when you’ve finished.” I smile down into my pancakes. Does he know how smutty Rosaline Hargrove’s books are? They might be regency, but that does not stop her writing the most toe curling filth I’ve ever read.

Maybe Courtney was right. Maybe I really should have offered him that blowjob weeks ago. Apparently, an orgasm for him is almost as good as a personality change.

“And if it makes you happy.” They give each other such a sappy look I’m forced to look away to keep my appetite. It’s definitely not because my throat chooses that moment to get all tight and scratchy.

Dad was only fifty-one when he died. That’s just on the horizon for me at thirty-two.

As much as I like the polished billionaire businessman, I love the ruffled, vulnerable-looking minotaur who’s starting to let me scratch beneath the surface a little.

“I want to hear you beg for it, Justine. Tell me what a needy little slut you are.”

“Ass up, like a good little girl. Let me see you arch your back and get ready for my cock.”

The wet slap of me fucking her is extra loud with the lubrication of my come already inside her.