He can't resist the urge to laugh at her words, though it is not a mocking laughter. It's cheerful and honest.

"Do you often praise yourself in such ways," he says with a purr. His hand moves back into her hair so he can grip a handful and tug her head back to expose her throat. He returns the lick in kind and leaves a light trail of kisses along the route that his tongue just took. "You, my dear Goddess, have all the grace of love and royalty. Never has there been a beauty to compete with yours, and never will there be one."