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I intended to. I slowly bobbed until my G-Spot was overwhelmed.

“Can I… squirt?”

“Does the couch wash?” Cole chuckled. “Yes. Make a big mess on my cock, baby.”

I gripped the couch behind him. Cole helped pump, feeling me grow closer and closer to inevitability. Eyes locked, I felt the heat rise. My nostrils flared. I wanted him to see what he did to me—that he gave me this whole-body experience unrivaled to any before. I shouldn’t have felt this much for him, but in the light of nothing but a lantern, after his sweet, affectionate words, I knew he saw me. That was addictive. That felt unimaginable. As I came, my eyes rolled back. Cole covered my mouth, quieting my screams. When I came back down, the smile on his face was all I needed.

“You’re an angel,” Cole whispered. “So beautiful.”

“I… I haven’t… felt that,” I said, barely able to make words, “in ages. You’re… a god.”

Cole kissed me again. It felt so sweet and earnest now.

“Do you want to fuck me from behind or⁠—”

“No,” Cole stopped me. “I want to think about you just like this for as long as I can.”

Fuck. He had an unexpected way with words—ones I’d love to put in the mouth of a hero someday.

“Tell me I’m good,” I whimpered, finding myself close again. “Tell me I’m a good girl, daddy.”

“You are such a good girl,” Cole played with my nipples. “A very good girl who is going to come again.”

“Yes, yes,” I tried keeping my voice down. “Oh, God.”

Cole kissed me, so I’d come more quietly. The feeling was unimaginable. This felt desperate, but real. I needed this. I needed him.

And then, he held my hips to his, pulling back to let out a firm grunt. We stared at one another, both breathing heavily, both completely focused on the moment where we’d come together. I knew for both of us this had been something beyond what we’d imagined. This wasn’t just fucking. It was so much more.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“For what?”

“Just… seeing me,” I said. “For trusting me and knowing me and giving me everything you just did.”

Cole kissed me gently. “Thank you for taking care of me and being you. Now, this couch is going to be a disaster if we don’t take care of it. Where’s your upholstery cleaner?”

“It’s in the kitchen. In the pantry. There are grubby old towels there, too,” I snickered.

Cole raced to the kitchen.

I called after him, “You don’t owe me anything.”

Cole returned with the spray and two towels, confused. “What?”

“You just… you don’t owe me this.”

Cole bent over, tossing one rag on the spot as I scooted away. Before cleaning anything, he turned to mop me up. The way he touched me was gentle, quiet, and always so sweet. It was silly, but I found his attention to detail hot. He didn’t whine or complain, nor did he guilt me. He took care of me.

“It’s kind of you,” I said. “To help. That’s all. I don’t expect a guy to⁠—”

“Well, maybe the boys you’ve been with are incapable of cleaning up, but I’m a grown ass man who doesn’t leave a mess behind for the woman who just gave me the best sex of my life.”

I stared into his eyes, unsure of what to say. I didn’t debate it. Cole as right. He finished dabbing things as I cleaned myself off to the best of my abilities. Then, he knelt before me.

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to leave you, but… I have to be up early and⁠—”

“I know,” I sighed. “You don’t want to get caught here.”