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... mmering chuckle as she watched Ricky pull off his shirt, the muscles of his torso flexing beneath her eager gaze.

Her fingers glided down the sides of his abs, tracing each ridge and contour with a teasing touch, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

With her other hand, she deftly unbuckled his belt, the metallic clink echoing in the charged air between them.

Licking her lips, she felt the pent-up tension from her long days being an elder by day and a mother to Zatan ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

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“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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