He's making the same connections, tracing her features in the mirror before his eyes slide over his own. He doesn't look forty, right? A little gray or not. And she certainly doesn't look like she's marrying a forty-year old guy, as beautiful as ever perfect Pepper Potts.

Tony gently shakes his head as he pushes his nose into her throat, deft and callous-roughed fingers moving under the garment and pushing them down out of the sight of the reflective surface. He's a man, he always wants to get her naked -- so what gives? There are a few factors here, his free hand taking hers, and placing it over her stomach almost like a posable doll. Here they are, him in his smart suit and her in her pretty dress, big diamond displayed prominantly over her middle as his fingers work her over under their party clothes, gasping into her ear at how wet he finds her.

"Not yet. I like the way we look," he confirms his motives aloud, gently trailing his lips over her neck, letting her feel how hard he is through his trousers as she leans back against him. He needs to take a mental picture of this moment before it's gone forever.