They made love again that night - not from ritual, not even from need, but from a longing to fuse what they now knew. It was quieter, but deeper. Slow, honey-thick kisses. Fingertips exploring anew. Bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces, but with reverence. Like artists rediscovering the shape of desire.
Sophie took him first - quietly, under the moon, her body moving with aching grace. Then Lucy joined them, wrapping herself around him while Sophie rode him slow. Then Rose slid beneath him, kissing his chest, his thighs, while Zoey straddled his face with a hungry moan. They moved like worshippers now. Not just of him - but of each other. Of what they were building.
Emma cried out when he filled her, her body arching, her climax silent but shaking her to tears.
Stella kissed Susan as Jude kissed Natalie, their hands tangled, their hips pressed. Grace crawled over them all, brushing kisses like offerings.
Hours passed.
The stars spun.