Page 70 of Claimed By the Wraiths

“They are.”

“Then stop talking.”

I reached for her.

She came close enough to kiss me and put one hand flat against my chest before I could pull her all the way in.

“Ribs.”

“I remember.”

“You say that like someone who is about to prove he doesn’t.”

Then she kissed me.

The argument left my head.

Her mouth was warm and certain. Nothing like the stolen minutes in the cell, where every touch had carried a clock inside it. The hatch was sealed. Nobody was coming through the wall. The station could make all the noise it wanted outside this little cabin and none of it belonged to us.

I put my hands on her hips.

She caught one wrist.

“No.”

I went still.

Her eyes met mine. “Not no to this.” She guided my hand back to her waist. “No to you deciding you’re healed because you want to be.”

“Solren said no pressure on the burn.”

“Exactly.”

“I can work with that.”

“I know.” Her mouth tilted. “So can I.”

She pushed me back onto the bunk.

The mattress was narrow enough that my shoulder hit the wall. I barely noticed.

Jessa stood between my knees and unfastened my shirt slowly, watching my face when the fabric passed the bandage. She opened it without touching the sealed burn.

Then she bent and kissed the center of my chest.

Not the injury.

Me.

The light under my skin answered her mouth in a faint line.

Her fingers followed it once and stopped.

“Still with me?”

“Yes.”

“Anything pulls, you tell me.”