Later, she blew out the candle and lay in the dark, her body humming like a struck bell. She thought: This is mine. This, right here, is entirely mine.
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When she finally lay back on the cool sheets, she closed her eyes. Her own touch was unhurried. Not a performance. Not a race. Just her learning the language of her own pleasure—soft sounds escaping her lips like secrets she had kept even from herself. Later, she blew out the candle and lay