She was still trembling when his hands left her.
Not visibly. She had enough control left for that. But inside her body something was still shaking, still reverberating from two hours of his hands and the sounds she had made and the things she had said into the mirror, and she sat in the low cushioned seat in front of the mercury glass with her hands folded in her lap and her breathing slow and deliberate and felt the trembling move through her like an aftershock.
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