She'd have been a lot more guilty about it if she'd drawn blood. Right now she just felt a sheepish sort of amusement at the sight of the marks she'd left on him. She didn't think she'd realised how sharp she'd bitten him...or that his skin marked so easy. So many little things she'd just never been able to consider before.

It was a moment before what he said caught up to her - she'd shuddered bodily when he pulled out of her; and now that she'd caught her breath, come down from the high, she was acutely aware of the ache he left behind. Her legs were slightly stiff beneath her as she lifted up a little, only to stretch them out - a little gingerly - and lie down properly, weight half on Niko, though propped up on one forearm to look at him.

She'd never thought of Niko as the type to placate - if he said something, he meant it - so even if it sounded like a line...it wasn't. He'd already told her he'd been with a lot of women - and not that she'd been worried about him comparing her...well, not that worried...but she hadn't expected to hear that.

(Not for a while, maybe. Some day, she dearly wanted to blow his mind like he already had hers.)

"Neither do I." A bit of a joke, sure - but soft, fond, lacking any edge. And it was true, anyway - not suit programs, nor fingers and teeth through fabric, could have prepared her for something this intense, this intimate. It wouldn't have been like this with anybody else - maybe that's what he'd meant.

She stretched her legs out properly as blood rushed back into them, her back arching, and sighed in relief. "Next time, though, you go on top."

Part of her already thought 'next time' couldn't come soon enough.