Page 72 of Claimed By the Wraiths

She liked that. I knew because I felt the answer in the way her body tightened over my thighs and because she smiled against my mouth.

No translation required.

I slid one hand between us.

She stopped smiling.

Her forehead came down to mine. Her breath caught when my fingers found her, then broke again when I did it a second time.

“Still think you’re in charge?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“You sound uncertain.”

“I’m busy.”

I kissed the corner of her mouth.

Her hips moved against my hand. Slow at first. Then with purpose.

I watched her face.

Years of watching her across briefing tables, across the mess hall, across every careful line we had never crossed.

Now there was nothing careful in her expression.

“Serak.”

“I’m here.”

“More.”

I gave her more until her hand closed hard on my shoulder and her eyes shut and she had to stop moving for a second just to breathe.

Then she opened them.

“Now.”

I understood.

She reached between us, wrapped her hand around me, and the whole world narrowed to that contact.

“Jessa.”

“Tell me if the ribs hurt.”

“They don’t.”

“If you lie⁠—”

“I know. Solren.”

“Worse.”

She guided me to her.

Then she lowered herself onto me.