For the rest of that day, Ethan was treated to little more than the symphonic laughter of hundreds of beautiful women and the warm weight of Ysara and Amelia's voluptuous bodies pressed against his own.
He admired every kind of beauty, listened to sweet voices singing cheerfully, and watched each of his wives—even the more mature ones like Arwen—having fun as if they were at an amusement park.
All of this, of course, drew genuine smiles from him that never left his lips throughout the entire afternoon.
As dusk fell and the sky took on shades of violet, the girls slowly began to tire. Ethan found himself in a shallower part of the lake, settled on sand still warm from the afternoon sun, the soft murmur of the water kissing the shore while the distant laughter of his other wives echoed through the air.
And perched atop him, like two sleepy cats, were two women who simply hadn't left his side for even a single moment since they'd arrived there.
Amelia and Ysara.
