Speaking was past him. Even kissing, really, was past him, though her tongue was drawing out more low, little whimpers of pleasure, and her breath on his lips sent an aftershock through him. The shudder turned sob-like, the relief coming in second to the pleasure but still overwhelmingly strong, and he kissed her deeper, messily, gratefully, the only intelligent thought in his mind was that he should have come back to her sooner.