It felt good -- better than he'd anticipated, if he were entirely honest with himself, though Layla always had a way of surprising him. He smiled, then, his expression, for once, entirely unguarded. There was a degree of hesitancy to the way Jamie Madrox approached life, though only those who knew him well would realize how that affected the more subtle things -- body language, for example. Rarely was anything ever done fully, gestures half-formed, smirks instead of smiles -- and when he did smile, it was usually with an undercurrent of something else, sarcasm or defiance.

In that particular moment, however, he was just happy, like a string pulled taut inside of him had finally snapped, releasing the tension that he'd been carrying for the better part of a year. Moreover, he didn't feel bad about it, couldn't dredge up a single feeling of regret or guilt. Her touch electric, again his hips lifted into her hand, and he let out a low, throaty laugh.