She knows he's working it a little, and she doesn't care. She grins at him. "My poor love and your delicate skin."

She keeps stroking his stomach, where he is still a little sore. "I will happily give you all the attention you need to relax, as many times as it takes."

"Then I'll have to take care of my own tension," she teases. "Rub myself down, maybe use the Rod of the Sun for harder to reach spots that need attention.