His eyes darkened noticeably when she shifted, and he fought back a growl in reaction since he wasn't sure yet where she wanted things to go. There was no stopping his body from reacting to the press of her, but he tried not to show it too much.
He swallowed when she took his hand, and tensed when she lay it against her chest. He could feel her heart beating, hard, like his was in his own chest, and it made something in him twist up. It felt like she wanted him, like she was enjoying this the same way he was. He couldn't help but notice the curve of her breast under his broad palm, and suddenly his body was back to reacting without his permission. He left his hand where it was, though, since she put it there herself, and met her eyes.
"Yeah, okay," he said, and though the words weren't much he smiled as he said them. Wide and uncomplicated, amazed to know that she wanted him. That it wasn't drink or pity or just him being the last choice at pub, she actually wanted him just as he was. He took in her bright, clear eyes and the almost nervous way she bit at her lip, like he wasn't the only one feeling out of sorts. And he let out a laugh a moment later, though it wasn't much more than a puff of air. "You're so fucking pretty," he said, slipping his hand up to the back of her neck and urging her close again.