"Welcome back," he says, quietly, barely anything between a breath in and a kiss, which gets a relieved, pleasured sound out of him. Maybe for the kiss itself but also very likely for the hand wrapped warm around him. He feels as though his whole body responds, livens, held in fine tension between the kiss to his mouth, the hand in his hair, the other on his cock.

His arms move around her, his hands come up to bury themselves in her hair, a clutch designed to stimulate rather than pull. He smiles a little into the kiss to imagine how many of those she's been with before have been unable to keep themselves from that action alone, like the shining glimmers of metal in those waves are more than enough encouragement.