Black and Silver

by Gwendolyn Harper

“Good girl,” he breathed. “Good fucking girl.”

“The world could crumble around us as the last star snuffed its light from the sky, and still all I would want is to hear you cry out my name as you grazed the edge of heaven.”

“Now be a good fucking girl,” he grit out between his fangs. “And stare into my eyes when you come for me again.”

“I want to work my way inside you and dwell in your ribcage just so I can hold your heart while it beats and feel it keeping you alive.”

“I will love you, witchling, until the earth beneath our feet crumbles into dust and is scattered across the stars and galaxies.”

“Sit on my face, witchling,” he said—not exactly an order, but it wasn’t a request. “Plant yourself on your throne and let me service you like a queen.”