She shudders out a breath as his hands slides over the silky fabric, feeling the heat of his skin near where she wants him. The tissues are cast aside, forgotten. She closes one hand around his wrist, the other coming to rest flat against his chest, fingers splayed wide.

Her voice is pitched low, but still tight with arousal. "There's stockings in that bag. And frilly underthings. And I don't want you to miss out on frilly underthings."

She's half-afraid if he gets her started, she won't be able to stop.