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... ange new sky, the still air thick with the scent of pleasure and pollen. Jude lay in the center, his head nestled between Lucy and Sophie, while the rest of the wives curled into him like petals folding around a stem. Their bodies ached in the best ways - used, worshiped, loved - and yet none of them were tired. If anything, the island’s rhythm inside them was building again, the tempo rising like a drumbeat before another dance.
Three fruits now pulsed on the pedestal, each one a differ ...
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