It's invitation, and Derrica goes willingly, all the more so for the fact that Loxley holds onto her in such a way that she would step backwards, out of his grasp, without any trouble. This matters to her. More than anything else, that quality alone sticks in her mind, marks Loxley as someone she can be with in this way.

So she goes, following him up onto the bed with some care for the placement of knees and elbows in the process. The squeaking bed frame draws a laugh from her, and the moment that might have come after, when she might have given some serious consideration of whether or not the bed will hold, is cut short.

It is not a brief kiss. There is no need to be brief, when they have the rest of the night for this. Derrica puts her hands back into Loxley's hair. She winds herself in close to him. She kisses him with all the intent he'd been given a glimpse of on the tourney grounds, before she cedes her grip on his hair and draws slightly back turn her attention to the fastenings of his tunic.

"Take this off?" is a request posed very nearly against his mouth, as counterproductive as proximity might be.