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“If you aren’t careful, little hummingbird, I may have to use that mouth to set you straight.” He leans in closer, and my knees go weak as his lips hover over my ear. “But maybe that’s exactly what you want… maybe you’re sick of being good, yeah?”
“I don’t want to die,” I moan softly. “Then come, little hummingbird, and say my name while you do,” he commands.

