He'd wanted to hold off a bit longer, but he'd wildly underestimated his ability to control himself around her. It turned out, she didn't even have to open her mouth to undo him, her intention ringing clearly through his mind, unavoidable even if he could scarcely believe it:

I forgive you.

With his face buried in the curve of her neck, he came with a helpless whimper, clutching her tightly to him, as if afraid she might fade into nothing, as he had done in Exegol.