That he's all too right, comes when she finally relents enough to let the dress fall off her. Pooling at her feet and baring her to her stays and shift that she begins to hastily untie just as she had her dress.

"I need you." The shameful admission falls from her lips all too readily. "I try to - to -" the blush picks up on her cheeks as she admits it, but yet she cannot help herself. "But it's not the same. Not your hands, your lips."

And she steps in again, grasping for him as her stays come loose, slipping them down and off.