“It’s okay,” I whispered, increasing my rhythm as he clenched around me. “Hold on,” I said, helping him to his knees and placing his hands on the headboard. “Cole,” he said, adrift, arching his back and dropping his head between his shoulders. I ran my slicked hands over his chest, through the trimmed, tight curls surrounding his cock, up his muscled back, and up and down his straining, extended arms. “It’s almost over, angel.” “No,” he groaned, taking me so good I could’ve cried.
