Lee can feel the physical result of that line of thought. “Oh. Hi.” When she looks up at him, she smiles, lips pulled back, fangs poking out. He's the only one who gets to see her teeth.
She puts her weight on her knees and one hand, the other on the button of his shorts, working on undoing them. It doesn't matter to her if he comes in thirty seconds or three hours, it's the things around that that interest her most, and anyway, he still has hands and a mouth. Her mouth drifts back to his neck, her head tipped to brush her lips underneath his jaw; she's in no hurry, and this is the kind of sex she likes best, slow, exploratory.
That's part of why she likes it a lot when she wakes up and he's already touching her or kissing her — it makes her feel good, desirable, safe. That's a tricky line to navigate, but she trusts him.
“I don't mean it, you know.” She makes her way back to his mouth while her hand tugs insistently on his trousers. “How I act when I'm tired.” She's been a little shy to admit exactly how much she likes that, and regrets that her normal morning grouchiness has discouraged him.