His patience was rewarded in due time as Buffy took a few calming breaths and subsequently brought herself down upon the remainder of his length in on... fluid motion. A strangled cry escaped her lips and she pitched forward, clinging to his shirt as she laid on him, her face nuzzling instinctively in the crook of his neck as she sought out comfort. He wrapped his arms about her, brushed her hair from her cheek and tried to act as soothing as possible, while his cock ached to begin thrusting now. You've killed me a dozen times or more, yet Ikeep coming back." What madness do you spout?" he growled."Not madness, truth. I'm one of those you've called 'the slippery-souled'. I suppose you thought those souls went to their eternal restwhen you couldn't eat them. Not so. We get reborn, time after timeafter time. When you were reduced to little more than a mindless animaland hunted through the squalor of Victorian London, that was me. Whenthat black-marketeer in post-World War Two Berlin. More

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