"Shh- don't-" she murmurs back, her hands stilling his where he's tugging on fabric. The sundress she's in is delicate enough that any desperate grip from his hands will rip it, and that thought - while the timing is poor for it - makes her tighten.

"I -- for you," she manages to get out, her mouth pressed near his ear, an open-mouthed kiss left against the skin under it, the imprint of her lipstick a mark of sort. "It's all for you..."