He follows her lead, letting her move him and use him to her heart's content. He keeps his hands on her, keeps his lips in contact with her skin as much as he can. And when he comes, riding out his orgasm with her, he digs his fingers into her hips, has an anxious thought about if these cloned bodies can get pregnant, and chokes out her name.

It takes him a minute to respond to her kisses, his nerves still buzzing and his mind still slow, but he's happy to oblige, and moves his lips against hers, his arms shifting to wrap around her torso, holding her close to his chest.

So much better than talking.