"Yes, you are. A terrible, lust-filled scoundrel who's obviously got more than resting and healing on his mind," Minerva said lightly, her eyes going to his cock, which seemed to be responding to her touch.
"Of course you don't. Men always liked to be fussed over when they aren't feeling well. It's in their nature."
Minerva licked her lips. His fingers felt warm and soft on her skin, wandering up and down her arm. "I can fuss over you more if you'd like..."