She keeps her legs around him, not the way she would if she feared he might leave; more like the way she would if she had fantasized about this exact position a few times before.

The first time he'd touched her scar she'd gone a little stiff, shivered a little. It's entirely different now, feeling the brush of his beard and the warmth of his mouth, and she moans quietly. She slips both hands between them, one stroking him, one stroking herself.