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... ng with life. It wasn’t just the roots beneath them or the branches swaying with more awareness than wind could cause - it was the rhythm. Everything moved to it now. Jude lay beneath the canopy of tangled limbs, lips, and breath, his body claimed and re-claimed, not in conquest but in communion. He had been filled, emptied, worshipped, and reborn, and still the desire burned like sacred fire in his core.
Emma sat astride his waist, not moving, just resting her hands on his chest as she ...
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