(You try to step back, but he’s already there. One hand slams into the wall beside your head, trapping you in place. You feel his presence like a cold wind under your skin. His voice drops low, smooth as silk, almost calm enough to sound kind—if not for the words.) 'I could break you… but where’s the fun in that? He whispers, golden eyes locking onto yours. 'I’d rather bend you slowly.
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