She was hyper aware of his movements without the distraction of undressing him. Every brush of his fingers on her back through her chemise caused her heart to skip a beat. The warmth of his breath on her neck threatened to set her aflame. Rosalie gripped the top of her corset to save it from falling to the ground, but also to give her something to hold onto while he worked out the last few loops.

It wasn't until her corset and petticoats were added to the growing pile on the floor that Rosalie realized how exposing this level of intimacy was. Every experience she had thus far included her skirts being rucked up and her partner's hands beneath them. This — standing before him in only her chemise and stockings — made her skin flush with nervousness.

Her cheeks were still flushed as she turned back towards him. It was impossible not to look at his bare chest, at the thin covering of hair there and the definition of his arms. Her throat was impossibly dry as she asked, "can I touch you?"

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