With her hands searching for his buttons, Dahlia barely registered him tugging at the ties to her skirt, until there was a gap of air hitting her chemise. A only one tie had loosened, Dahlia took stock. Her fingers were shaking as she worked a button through the button hole. This was a task she'd done a million times in her life, well not on a man, but she'd buttoned and unbuttoned plenty of frocks for herself and her sisters... no, now was not the time to consider that. Quin tugged at another tie, but this time it managed to tightened, likely knot. Her fingers went to the next button, half way there. His lips trailed along her neck and collar and then lower. A noise of surprise and delight pressed out of Dahlia and she gave up on the buttons.

"Quin," She gasped, pushing him away very so slightly and turning exposing her back to him so he could see the laces. She ought to have gone with her mother's suggestion of a front lacing corset, she realized belatedly. But there was no way her shaking fingers would manage the small hook and eye clips that she'd naively insisted would be alright. "The laces." As she stood there, one hand pressed against her stomach, the other gripping the fabric of her skirt, Dahlia realized hazily that her breath was coming in shallow puffs, her cheeks were rough from his stubble, and she was quite certain something was melting in that most impolite spot of her body.