"Oh, yes," she murmurs and cradles him close as he shakes, stops looking enough to press a kiss to his temple, softly, and then another, marvelling at how wet his hair is and the way he's trembling and all of it, really.

And it's satisfying in a different way than it would be to fall with him and see the world go white for herself, because she can see his face, can brush kisses to it, distracted from moving against him for at least the moment as she slows and stops and just holds him close and says, "I love you," softly, over and over again.