Since he's managed to pull himself away from her, he takes this opportunity to deal with the awkward things. His own boots are dealt with while she finishes taking off her own. Long hunting socks are quickly taken off before he turns his attention to his belt. It's bad form to wear a pistol while getting increasingly intimate, even if it is neatly holstered away. Unable to help himself erring on the side of caution, he puts it on top of the dresser, out of trouble.

That is the only necessary separation left, as far as he's concerned. Free from anything else that might try to seize his attention, he descends on her again, eager to feel and taste her. It's as though that long moment might have been weeks, or months. His reward, surely, is getting the last remaining piece of her clothing off. Something which might be easier if his lips would leave her neck and collarbone for even just a few seconds.