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[ It's heartening to know he can swallow a load and not cough anymore, getting better at his own technique for that (a little like gulping down ale, tasting less and drinking more). He wipes up the spill down his chin and feels inordinately proud of not really losing a drop, mouthing at a navel as Molly's hips roll in the aftermath, petting all over those thighs and hips. Fjord wraps Molly up in his arms and rolls onto his side, cuddling him close as he pulls the blankets back around him to ensure there's a soft wall behind and his own heat in front to bake his exhausted tiefling back to full health.

It's more than a little adorable, seeing Molly bonelessly happy. ]

There you go, sweetheart, you were perfect ...