"Means I don't want you puttin' that mask o' yours on with me." He said, with a startling amount of insight. Mal leaned back to shrug off his shirt, showing off a plethora of old gun and knife wounds in the process. Marked here and there with the scars of his business, he seemed even more rugged, but perhaps no more manly or impressive with that slightly vulnerable expression to him.
Then he leaned back over her and breathed in a slow gasp at the sight of her, a lightly shaking hand running between the swells of her breasts.
Mal glanced back up at her face, eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before they flickered back down and he drew closer to kiss her again. His body was half over hers, but his weight was on his arms and hips.