SWEET NOTHING

More often than one would care to know, he had tasted blood in the death of others rather than any form of ecstasy that one could feel. The russet goddess stood, his own oculars seeking hers, admiring the golden color, and lo how it contrasted against her bodice. She came close to him, bold, he liked that, her words bring a rumble of laughter to his chest, as he stood, muscles relaxed, feeling her russet fur brushing against his ivory fur, and admiring how easily the colors mixed. He took a deep breath, taking in her scent as he contemplated her questions, the murmurings reaching his audits, dragging the curiosity from the depths of him.

?I have been called many things, my beauty, ?precious? isn?t a name often associated with a killer.? Her would turn his head, extending his neck, in an attempt to block her movements, and bringing his form in an attempt to still her, his jaws opening slightly, as he would lean towards her, attempting to nip at her neck, extenuating each word that would exit him with a nip, as he would try to pull at the skin and fur on her neck, not to directly harm, but in his kinky erotic fashion.

?The more prudent question, my love, is why are you alone in such a dangerous world??