Page 115 of Taken Away

He dipped his head, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss into the damp hair at the nape of her neck. His large hand stayed flat against her stomach, anchoring her to him.

“Aubrey,” he murmured, his voice a low, rough rumble that vibrated right through her back.

“Hmm?” she breathed, her eyes drifting shut as the safety of his arms enveloped her.

Bennett hesitated, his fingers tightening a fraction against her skin. The unyielding control he usually hoarded was gone, replaced by a quiet, raw vulnerability that sounded entirely new.

“Did I hurt you?” he asked softly.

Aubrey opened her eyes in the darkness, a strange, tight warmth pulling behind her ribs at the sheer sweetness in his tone. This was the man who had dominated her living room, who had driven into her with an urgent, primal desperation—and now he sounded completely wrecked by the possibility that he’d been too rough.

“No, Bennett,” she whispered, turning her head slightly until her cheek brushed the rough stubble of his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me.”

He let out a long, slow breath against her neck, his shoulders finally sagging beneath the blanket.

“I lost control,” he muttered into her skin, his voice pure gravel, carrying the heavy weight of an absolute admission. “The second I touched you, I just... I lost it. I wanted to make sure.”

Aubrey shifted, turning within the tight circle of his arms until she was facing him. She reached up, her fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, finding the gold-flecked eyes watching her in the dark with an intense, unblinking focus.

“I’m fine, Bennett,” she said, her voice low, “I’m right here.”

Bennett didn’t answer with words. He leaned down and kissed her mouth—not with the demanding urgency from before, but with a slow, deep, aching tenderness that felt infinitely more dangerous to her peace of mind. He held her flush against his chest, his large frame acting as an unyielding shield against the glass windows and the dark valley below.

Aubrey drifted toward sleep, cocooned in Bennett's arms.

Outside, somewhere below the ridge, a lone security light flickered to life in the darkness.

Moose lifted his head.

He rose without a sound and walked to the wall of glass overlooking the valley. His ears pricked forward, his gaze fixed on something neither Bennett nor Aubrey could see.

He stood there for a long time.

Watching the darkness.

TWENTY-EIGHT

Bennett’s House

Aubrey

A wet nose shoved into Aubrey’s face.

She jerked awake. “Jesus⁠—“

A slobbery tongue dragged across her cheek.

Aubrey squealed and buried her face against Bennett’s bare chest.

Laughter rumbled beneath her ear.

Deep. Sleep-rough. Entirely too amused.

“Good morning, baby.”

Aubrey groaned.

“Oh my God.”