It makes her laugh -- mostly fondly -- that he still looks at her that way after everything, like every time is the first. "I haven't gone anywhere," she murmurs, gently tsking. "I'm still not."

She kisses his collarbone, pushing her hands up under his shirt, running her nails up and down briefly over his stomach before dropping her hands to his fly. She works it open easily, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock so she can trace her fingers over it.