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I turn and a figure falls in front of me. Elon, down on his knees. I meet him on the floor. “Babe,” he says. I feel the press of his lips against my forehead. “What is it? What’s happening?”

“I thought I’d lost you forever.”

To Anex. To prison. To all the terrible things he said would come if we betrayed him.

“Never,” he says, looking back as the guys come to stand behind him. His hands cup my face, and he thumbs away my tears. “We will never stop fighting for each other.”

Silas’ arms wrap around me, his body heat warm and comforting, and a moment later Levi’s there, rubbing my back and pressing a kiss to my temple. Over Elon’s shoulder, I feel Rex’s intense gaze, his blue eyes sweeping over me, looking for wounds or injuries. Both of us know they’re there–he just can’t see them. I lift myself off the ground and go to him, brushing aside the tears on my cheek. “I’ve been so worried about you.” He was inside the longest, left with nothing but his worries.

“Don’t be,” his thumb wipes away a tear. “I was fine.”

That’s impossible, but it’ll take time.

He lifts his chin, some kind of silent signal, and Elon’s got me in his arms, lifting me. He carries me across the room and up a flight of stairs, stopping when we enter a bedroom. He eases me to the floor and steps into the bathroom, turning on the faucet.

“What are you doing?” I look toward the door, to the sound of masculine voices downstairs.

“The guys are going to make dinner.” He comes back to me, kissing my nose, then the underside of my jaw, my collarbone. A shiver runs across my skin. “And I’m going to run you a bath.”

“You just got out of prison, I’m the one that should be cooking,” I tell him, those old routines and behaviors falling into place. “You know I like to.”

“I know you do, but tonight, let us take care of you, babe.”

The idea sounds nice, and completely foreign. I’m also too tired to do anything but watch him run the bath, filling it with soapy, clean smelling bubbles. I haven’t moved and he returns to me, hands pushing under my shirt, lifting it over my head. Kissing the center of my chest, he reaches behind my back and unhooks my bra, gently pushing it down my shoulders. His eyes go to the fading bruises, and he rubs a thumb over the side of my breast.

“Rex told me what happened.” He tilts his head back, closes his eyes and swallows thickly. “I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“You had no choice,” I tell him, running my hands under his shirt to feel the hard muscle underneath. “None of us did, but we do now.”

He looks down at me, eyes filled with dark intensity. His hand cups around the column of my throat and he draws me to him, kissing me on the mouth. A surge of warmth runs through me—the strength of his tongue, the taste of his lips. I allow myself to relax, to sink into him, knowing we’re all home—and for the moment—safe.

Kisses down my body, reverently, taking his time. When his mouth closes over a taut nipple, lathing against the peak, I cry out, desperate for more. His breath is hot, spreading over my skin, down my belly as he licks and tastes. He stops at my hip and my hand falls to cover the brand, but he lifts it gently, kissing my fingers and the skin around the mark.

“He’ll pay for this one day, love.”

As much as I hate the brand, I appreciate that they don’t ignore it—that they accept that it’s part of me—just another scar left from Anex’s domination.

There is no man more domineering than the one before me. The sight of him down on his knees spreads warmth between my legs. He’s controlled and diligent as he explores every inch of my body.

He eases off the cotton pants I’d found in a drawer that morning. The drawstring is untied in a sharp yank. Exposed, he sets me on the edge of the tub, pushing my legs apart with his palms. He bends, teeth nipping at the delicate flesh of my inner thigh. The tease of pain makes me hotter, wetter. He looks up at me and says, “I’ve been dreaming of this for weeks.”

“Me too.”

“Hang on, babe,” His tongue glides over my slick folds, delving into them, teasing and tasting. My fingers grip the sides of the tub, the steamy water curling up my spine. My breath is short, coming in hot, needy bursts, but It’s when his tongue finds the bundle of nerves, the ones wound tight and desperate, waiting for him to discover, as I unspool, spinning toward ecstasy.

I cry his name out, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles and buck against him.

“Elon,” I say, again. “That was…”

“Just the beginning.” He stands, pressing his hand against my back and easing me into the warm, steamy, tub. My limbs are jelly, my heart pounding like I’ve just finished a race. I watch him strip, then climb into the tub behind me. Water sloshes over the sides as he fits his massive frame in with me, cradling my back against his chest.

“Is this for real?” I ask, threading my fingers through his. “Me, you, this tub, the guys downstairs?”

He pushes the hair off my neck with wet fingertips and plants a kiss on my neck. “It’s for real.”

There’s two words he’s left off, but I allow it, not wanting to mar this moment with the world outside.

It’s real—for now.