In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. You shall tell me if I am wrong. She has no proof—yet. He had been reading Belfort Bax, and declared himself a convert. ‘Pitiful. ” He smiled, and she felt love for him in that moment as the smile lit up his ebony eyes, eyes whose blackness seemed unfathomable. She moaned as he buried himself completely to the hilt.
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