Her hands leave his skin only so she can draw her hair over her shoulder, out of his way, a quick, quiet encouragement as she continues to kiss him. These are things Grace is good at, and they've become accustomed to each other, enough that she doesn't have to think to work in rhythm with him. She's thankful for that. Time and practice make it so much simpler to enjoy herself, to not have to worry about potential awkwardness or misunderstandings, poor timing, thoughts of what he will or won't like, what he will or won't do for her. All of that is past, and she can focus on him instead, sighing at the brush of his fingers against her back.