He laughs again, just as before. A laugh that's deep and vaguely unpleasant. He could hurt her now, he thinks. Just one press of his finger. He knows just how to do it, just where to apply pressure.

But he doesn't want to, not to her. Not unless it's completely necessary.

"Push me all you like," he grits out. "But I'll never hurt you. Never."

The hand on her stomach rises though. A move that's utterly sexual. Follows the line of the corsetry beneath, coming to rest over her breast, just holding there. The other hand still poised on her neck.