I don't know why I stutter to a stop, just in that moment, that slight breath of hesitating between pulling back and continuing forward, but it doesn't have anything to do with him, not in the way his eyes find my shape even shrouded in shadow. I can feel his gaze caressing me almost as plainly as his hands do, fingers spiderwebbing from my neck down the curve to my shoulder, and under his touch, I can't even attempt to disguise the shiver that lingers in the wake of his skin, the warmth blossoming outward from each individual fingertip.

In that second, that simple touch turns out to be all I need. I step towards him and shift, lifting my arms, feeling the dress fall away from my chest, and then a brief twist has it continuing to fall, to puddle around my ankles with a whisper of a sound, until there's nothing under his hands now but me, all of me and a mere scrap of black lace still covering my hips. I step out of the dress, feeling around the corner behind me, and back us into the room, further and further in until the backs of my legs hit the mattress and I'm falling freely, drawing him down over me, needing his weight and warmth to cover me as I cup his face in my hands and tilt it up to mine, kissing him deeply.