It surprised Slav to find he had enough thought in his head to stall her hand on him, his breathing on the edge of ragged and not where he wanted to be at the moment. Well, he knew where he wanted to be at that moment. And it certainly was not in her hand.
He had to remove his other hand from over her breast, in order to reach around to fish the foil packet out of his back pocket. And, after carefully peeling back her fingers from oversensitized flesh, somehow managing to release the condom from its prison and (once again) somehow roll it into place.