She bares her teeth at him a little when he smirks like that, her own expression more sardonic than aggressive. She doesn't get distracted by his beauty or some poetic shit like that as the shirt comes off - Johanna knows him too well for that - just lets him take her shirt off as well. Her fingers dig into his hips as she tugs him in close again, demanding.

"Then do something about it, pretty boy," she snaps, and kisses him again. The back of her nails skate up his back, not quite hard enough to hurt. Not yet, at least.