‘Naughty naughty 007.’
There was low snap as Silva unloaded the gun, slipping it into the pocket of the policeman’s jacket. The hand returned to Bond’s throat, the rough thumb tracing circles into the skin.
‘Such a pretty neck you have my dear.’ Silva breathed. ‘What a shame if something were to– he curled his fingers into the short strands of Bond’s hair, pulling his head back into Silva’s shoulder
‘- happen to it?’