( The sensation of being held closer is both welcome and encouraging. She smiles against his lips as she hears his gloves hit the nightstand, kisses him a little deeper when he touches her again, and tries not to let herself get too caught up in the fact that finally, finally she's feeling his bare hands against her skin. )

... You can touch.

( She murmurs, her hands drifting up to tease at the button sat neat at Hubert's throat, which she unfastens with a little twist of her wrist before moving on to the next one. What she wants to do is fairly obvious - her goal here is undressing him - but she's going to give him time to come to terms with the idea before simply tearing everything off. )

You can even help me take it off, if you want.

( Her skirt, Hubert. She means her skirt. )