Lucy couldn't honestly remember the last time she'd been called beautiful, and it was that which caught her attention more than anything physical, in this context only serving to make her want all the more. Her body, though, responded of its own accord, hips pressing up against his hand, a small, breathy sound catching in her throat. It wasn't so much maddening as it was something to be relished, but desire wasn't something that could be prevented, nor should it have been, in a position like this, both of them so clearly looking for the same thing.

"Not bad yourself," she said, voice breathy, pausing to draw in a sharp breath, "though I'd use a different adjective." Not caring enough to try to think of one, she pulled his belt from its loops, dropping it onto the floor along with the rest of their clothing. That she was so obviously interested likely spoke enough for itself, anyway; Lucy wasn't the complacent sort in any situation, but she definitely wasn't about to lie back and let him do all the work.