I do.

[She hums pleasantly as his lips touch her wrist, pausing in her deliberation of where to begin with him to close her eyes and simply enjoy the feeling.]

You are wrinkling your pants, and this evening when we wake up you are going to be absolutely crabby about it.

[A finger comes up to lightly touch his mouth, a movement similar to hushing him but not quite, and when her fingertip touches against his lip it's cooler than it ought to be — the barest suggestion of ice.]

But for now I will try to make you forget all about such things entirely.