Dear Devil
He stopped just in front of her, the room now deathly silent except for the beat of her pulsing heat.
“Delicious,” he murmured, lifting her chin with a single finger, eyes locked on hers.
Vivica met his gaze, fearless, her brown eyes dark and fierce. “My heat… or my hunger?” she whispered.
“Your soul,” he replied, eyes sweeping from her flushed face to the curves of her body, “and your body.”
Vivica uncrossed her legs with teasing slowness, spreading them under his unwavering gaze. “Unfortunately,” she said, voice low and dangerous, “you can’t have it. Not yet. Since I’m still planning to kill you.”