Everything was heating up and he needed some sort of cool down, something to slow the need and so he dragged his shirt over his head, tossing it aside, hoping the cool air in the room would help. Dahlia must have felt the same, that look in her eyes, the desperation in the kiss, mirroring his own desire, just not containing it quite as well.

Things were reaching a sense of urgency though that Quin hadn't been anticipating. With the dissolution of the awkwardness brought about this rush that he couldn't quite hold at bay, despite his best efforts. Dahlia was making it increasingly difficult, that roll of her hips against his had him stifling a groan into her skin, fingers curling into the fabric of her chemise roughly, seeking some sort of outlet for the pent up energy.

She seemed hell-bent on being as close as possible and so he rolled beside her, pulling her in close, let his hands roam over her hips, back up her thighs, fabric sliding out of the way as he did so. He was still trying to gauge her reactions, hoping he didn't make any wrong moves, relieved to find that she still seemed quite enthusiastic. Still, he knew, thanks to some other awkward conversations with mates, that there was an easy way to tell if she was ready. Quin tentatively worked up the courage, trying to not make anything too obvious, fingers kneading along her skin, over her hip once more, moving to explore just there and wait for her reaction.