Taste of Honey: Fantasy

The honey lingered on the tongue like the finest wine she'd ever tasted. She sprawled back on the divan, flung her arms above her head, and licked her lips sensuously. Across the tent, her guard stiffened, his posture rigid. Some women would have seen that as a response to their charms, but she knew better. She knew him well, and knew that she was the last woman he would ever consider being attracted to. He had seen what happened to the men that she took to her bed. He had cleaned the bones out of her tent the next morning. He had never so much as whispered a word to the rest of the soldiers in her army, likely because he knew that if he took away her supply, he would be next. He was a smart man, and he wanted to live, so he said nothing. "Ah," she sighed.

Inspiration: Eating a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup.
Story Potential: Low.
Notes: Yes, she eats men. Literally. Despite this, I'm not sure that she's a villain. Eh.