She has never lost her shyness.

She still blushes beneath him when he compliments her in bed. The blood still rises to her cheeks, flushes her limbs as he pushes her boundaries, teases her with gentle words, and plays with the line between acceptable romantic behavior in public and borderline indecent flirting.

He likes to see her ivory skin bloom with color when his easy words and knowing smirk imply too much and to hear her soft, shy laughter when he tells her all the things they will do when he gets her alone.

He likes to see her blush.