𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐄

"I hate you!" she seethes as she looks him dead into the eyes hoping he believes her words and not the look in her golden irises.

I love you

"If you don't let me go, I'll cut you up with that pretty little knife and make paella out of you!"

If you don't replace the dagger with your tongue and take me upstairs into your room with a plate full of paella, I'll really kill you then.

Seeing his mouth slightly shift up into a smirk only angers her further.

"You're a monster!" she screams with every ounce of pain inside her.

Something dark shifts in the room.

His blue eyes turn a darker shade; the color of the ocean when a thunderstorm erupts and the waves spiral. He fixes his posture so he's standing at his full height, muscles flexing from the movement. He drops the dagger and deftly replaces his hands with it as he wraps one around her throat and the other around her waist, lifting her up so they're at the same height.

His smile isn't warm, it's calculating. It's the smile that sends people to Hell.

"No quya, I'm not a monster. I'm El León."

He rubs his thumb up and down the base of her neck and sees her jugular vein pulse. Never losing eye contact, he licks the vital vein with his sharp tongue and makes an offer. One she can never look back.

"Be my lioness."
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