Margaret had neither the strength nor the interest to answer that question.
She leaned against Winchester, the waves of pleasure making her tearful and altering her voice.
"Kiss me..." Margaret pleaded, looking up at him. "Kiss me, Winchester."
After a brief silence, his icy lips descended, silencing her gasps and moans. Unnoticed, the black substance that consumed bodily fluids extended its tendrils, wrapping around Winchester's waist and hips, removing the traces of their lovemaking left on his skin.
A strange chill spread, as if slugs were crawling over their bodies.
Winchester closed his eyes.
They embraced and kissed, like lovers drowning in the river of love. The black substance, carrying the scent of the devil, crawled around their waists, adding a nightmarish and eerie tone to the scene.
