He releases and the echoes of my panic wilt on my tongue as tears pour from eyes, streaming down my temples. The last thing I want is for him to see me cry but I can't help it—I can't stop the deluge.
"It's a nice dress," he breathes with a hellish and hypnotic lilt in his voice as his fingers curl around the modest chest cut out. "You look like a king's queen, when I need you to look like his—mistress."
He wrenches the hole wider, the force lifting me an inch off the backseat as I ground my jaw to hold in any sound—the fabric ripping, tearing a plunging neckline to create a gaping slit to expose my breasts and glimpses of my strapless bra.
"Better."
I thud back down, flinching when his finger comes near my face. Landen's thumb then swipes away at a streak of tears with a whisper of menace in the movement that was made to be loving. "Wouldn't it have just been easier to listen the first time, hm? Instead of trying to make a monster of me."