She grins, wrinkles her nose at him, her cheeks definitely a bit more red than they were a moment ago.

"Give me your hand," she purrs, taking his wrist again. She nips at the mound of his thumb, chasing it with a kiss. And then she squeezes a generous amount of the clear substance onto his fingers, flicking the lid shut again and tucking the tube under the pillows.

Which means leaning forward again, putting the object of his intent within easy reach.