askcecewells:

hanakotobawakodoku:

hanakotobawakodoku:

Eric cracked a wide grin, determined to keep the conversation light. “Oh, I am, lass. Th’ kind o’ monster guilty o’ deadly good looks. In layman’s terms: ’m one sexy beast.“

“Oh, aye,” he replied as though issuing her a challenge. “Th’ sort o’ monster tha’ lurks in th’ confines o’ shadows, no fangs ‘r claws tae expose him. He aches f’r hearts  – good an’ tender ones. He bides his time, waitin’ f’r jus’ th’ righ’ ones tae sink his teeth intae, tae devour. An’ once they’re his–” he reached out to brush his fingertips over the nape of her neck, “–there’s no savin’ them. Th’ worst kind o’ monster is a charmin’ one.”

Her eyelids lowered into a gentle gaze at the brush to her nape; she blinked slowly, drinking in his words. So handsome, his voice a warm tumble through the air, caressing her senses entirely.

“Dear me.” she murmured, running a crooked knuckle along the curve of his cheekbone. “What’s a lady to do?”

Eric let his hand settle there, and he gave her neck a gentle, affectionate squeeze. “Ah, no’ much can be done ‘m afraid. Give intae the beast an’ hope f’r th’ best.” His eyes were intense on her, like a predator calculating his best method of attack. “Maybe he’ll take his time wi’ ye – ‘r maybe he’ll devour ye at once.”