There's what she'd argue with-- she hasn't missed out on anything; every moment she gets is something she wasn't meant to have at all. And so she's just fiercely glad to be with him. Would be, even if they'd just fallen asleep.

But this.... is better, of course. He meets her eyes and it nearly makes her shiver, the depth of his affection still overwhelming. She can't keep her head up for long-- he's too practiced at what he does, nudging her closer and then easing back to keep this from ending. She feels half-melted, deliciously powerless to do anything but feel and react, impossibly wet and whimpering softly in a way that might have embarrassed her a week ago, but the thought doesn't even cross her mind, now. (Maybe later; maybe insecurity will creep back after the afterglow fades. But she doesn't think so, somehow. The way Mulder looks at her-- even knowing she's broken his heart-- she's starting to suspect there isn't anything that would make him think less of her.)

Reflexively her hips shift under his hand, and as much as he tries to draw it out-- there's only so much she can take before she comes, crying out his name again and pulling his hair without meaning to, her thighs clenched around him.