[She groans to match, shivering against him before attempting to get him to ramp that sound back up. Her hands run a slow track up and down his thighs, thumbs flicking at his waistband careful over his hipbones, and her feathers rustle as he easily pulls the rest of the dress away.

There's very little underneath: low-slung panties in a shiny bronze color not too different from her skin, and the match to his pendant that she'd worn every day since she'd gotten it, and nothing in between. So it's perfectly obvious that he is more than welcome to be distracted if the distraction means more of his attention, and she finally presses into him, chest to chest]