He bit her on the shoulder, where moonlight fought to outshine the pearls in her spine. She arched her back, feeling the pain turn to warmth, his eager hands peeling her skin with tenderness.
"Let me love you like a king."
"But I am not a king."
"Not yet, you aren't."
In the quiet love that followed, she grew herself wings of mercury, and rode the winds to her frozen heaven.
His heart clawed at his throat, as streams burst forth from his heavy lungs.