Page 50 of Melting for the Firefighter

Her smile is dazed and beautiful.

“I think you ruined me.”

“Good.”

Her eyebrows rise.

“For anyone else,” I add.

She laughs softly.

The sound loosens something inside my chest.

I kiss the corner of her mouth, then ease out of her carefully.

She winces.

I go still.

“Pain?”

“Only a little sore.”

I leave the bed long enough to wash my hands and return with a warm cloth and a glass of water.

Cora has pulled the sheet over her breasts.

I set the water on the nightstand and tug the sheet down.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Looking.”

“You’ve seen everything.”

“Plan to keep seeing it.”

Her cheeks turn pink, but she does not reach for the sheet again.

I clean between her thighs, keeping my touch gentle when her muscles tense.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

“You’re not.”

A faint streak of blood marks the cloth.

Something possessive and protective twists together inside me.

I shut it down before it can reach my face.

This is not about taking something from her.

She gave me her trust.

That matters more.

I set the cloth aside and check the bruise on her hip. It has not darkened. Her breathing is steady, and she has not coughed once.