Undressing is always a more deliberate process for her, great care usually taken with all of the small fastenings that typically adorn her wardrobe — although she has sacrificed several pairs of undergarments to more impatient hands, grips that are strong enough to rend the fabric from her body altogether and leave her bare for the taking, for her to claim in turn.

This, to her surprise and delight, builds the anticipation as much as it does increase her desire for him in this form; he's still firm against her, but the slide of his skin against her own, the places where his hands cup the back of her head and cradle between her shoulders as he guides her up to him, leave her free to wind her own arms around him until she starts to become too needy to feel more of him against her.

She does have to extricate herself from him somewhat, the sleeves of her dress already slipping down from her shoulders with the bodice unbuttoned, in order to encourage the removal of his shirt, finding the hem with her fingers and rolling it up halfway in silent request. Some of it is for the pleasure of her eyes as well as her hands; she wants to see the intricacies of his true form, although they're already mimicking an earlier action with him slotted between the spread of her thighs, hips shifting into her own until she moans lightly.