Turnabout was fair play. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't recognize the press of her hand for what it was. He smiled against her very briefly and murmured, "Keep that up, and I'll never get these open." He pressed his hand over the back of hers to hold it in place while he thrust up against her palm, a single strong jut of hips to let her feel not only what effect she was having on him but just how badly he wanted this.

Then he was back to pulling at the laces and forcing the fabric apart. He clamped a little harder with his fingers inside her, working in up to the third knuckle and stroking at slick inner walls. He whispered close to her ear, "Would you stand up for me?"