Indy's eyes pop open initially. They pop wide open. His head lifts up, and there's another relatively sharp intake of breath. But then, as that first spark of excitement filters into a more manageable flow of exhiliration, his eyelids gradually fall again, until they become quite tightly shut, and his head settles back into the pillow.

His hand finds her forearm and applies reassuring strokes, clenching sometimes when she breaks the rhythm or changes her focus. But that's it as far as his involvement is concerned. For the next little while, he just lays back and indulges, letting her work without guidance, and rewarding her with the almost constant thrum of his luxuriating moans.