Sleep on, my arrogant one.
I’ll not let you escape my form of temptation. I am svelte, and devoid of pity, not too burdensome to perch upon your manly chest. My silken tresses trail over your skin, and my claws pierce your flesh.
Forget the maidenheads you’ve stolen, the hopeful hearts you’ve broken. Dream of me, my pretty one, and how powerless you are against this bittersweet surrender. Beneath rumpled sheets, I’ll flay your manhood, consume your soul, and slake my thirst on the stinging tears moistening your cheeks.
Ohhhh, such a perfect fit. Yes, you’ll do, my ill-fated one.
Jaycee Durand’s been putting pen to paper since she was twelve years old. She has novel writing in her sights, but dabbles in shorter works. She has published shorts on Medium; The Mad River, and Midnight Mosaic Fiction. Jaycee lives in London, England.