He didn't fight her, rolling over and away as she pushed on him. She struggled more with herself than with him. Frowning lifting an eyebrow, he propped himself up on his elbow and gazed at her form. She had withdrawn into herself again and he knew attempting to sooth her through touch would be the wrong move. But he was hardly at fault... It was mostly Malice's influence.
"You play coy, my dear," He commented dryly, lifting himself into a sitting position and resting his head on the back of one hand. "But as I wasn't forcing you and you were the one digging her nails into my back and the one who pulled me into the bed... So I am rather curious at the mental bile being thrown my way over it."
They weren't concrete thoughts, just feelings and half formed bubbles of disgust and revulsion and horror. With that kind of reaction to touch, and not just him, he wouldn't be too surprised if the problem with her powers was actually her doing. Much as she denied otherwise, her reaction spoke most violently for her.