He allows himself a celebratory smirk at that, a soft laugh between shallow breaths. It's kind of a victory, he thinks, since she was so reluctant to part with it earlier. He's more than happy to touch her more, especially with nothing in the way.

Hah, it's not really getting easier to breathe; not with what little air he's taking in. Her skin (or his?) is getting hot and their closeness is a little suffocating, but it's addicting and feels good and the tightness coiling up isn't something he can ignore anymore.

He wants more, but his balance is a little precarious--even now he's sometimes pressing down a little too hard against her ribs or her side (though he's honestly trying to avoid it) just to keep himself steady. To fix it he breaks their string of kissing and leans away a little, panting to catch his breath while he can...

And then he makes up for with his mouth what he can't do with his hands; he leans forward again, licking a long, hot line down the center of her chest before he runs his tongue over the rest. He expects both a hand and his mouth to make pretty quick work of things, especially with how he's able to speed up now, pressing himself inside of her again and again with a rising urge to find his edge.