“Because the kindness does not stem from the good of my heart,” he admitted, voice rough and textured enough to abrade my skin. “The moment I saw you like a deer trapped in my headlights, I saw you with the eyes of a predator.” I swallowed thickly. “Predators usually hunt their prey.” “Si, but I do not intend to kill you, cerbiatta.” His finger traced the strap down to the sweetheart neckline and tracked daringly over the edge of my breast exposed above the fabric. I watched up close as his eyes went from amber to bronze, dark with hunger. “I only intend to eat you.”
