Kraven had spent the entire night silencing whispers of it. So It came forth, sharper and harder to endure. A voice whispering its demand. Kill.
The thirst, the need to ruin, to make something end. They sharpened greater, circling at the edge of his mind like a starved beast directing at the only breathing thing within reach.
Before his mind could cease the warning, he was already leaning toward her, hands pressed at the side of her head, his breathing heavy as the mere thought of the color of her blood drowned his mind.
Would it have the same fragrance as her honeyed scent? Would the screams of death be more pleasing than her screams of pleasure?
She was right here, vulnerable. It would be so easy.
A simple movement, a press of his hand against her throat. He would watch the light leave her eyes, see the terror blossom on her pretty face, surrendering to him completely.
The thought should have stirred his excitement. But it didn't.
