It's a good thing he forgets to hide his face this time, because she's actually paying attention right now, and watching the way he winds up as they get closer and closer is absolutely fascinating to her.

The scars on his face and down his chest are impossible to ignore. But like this, sheened with sweat, with the light from the dying fire painting him in reds and golds, she thinks he looks beautiful. Especially so when he digs his head into the thin pillows beneath him, the tendons in his neck standing proud beneath his skin as he jerks beneath her and snarls out his pleasure, his strong fingers digging sharply into her flesh as he clings to her.

She does her best to ride him through it, to keep herself steady and consistent so he doesn't have to think of anything beyond the immediate pleasure he feels, murmuring to him in her own native tongue.