He hadn't thought he could get much harder, but, her saying that, and the incredible sight of her under him, looking up at him; his pupils dilated all the way and he had to bite his lip not to sound like he'd been punched. (If there's a good way to be punched.)

…But, why suppress when… he actually… didn't need to…?

His face relaxed into a smile, radiant in drinking in her smile, her features. Eyes roaming her face, but always coming back to hers. Then he moved that last little bit, so their bodies were parallel, then pressed together; and, still slow, still gentle, but no longer tentative, he lowered his face again, his lips to her throat, her neck, her mouth.