"Shhh."

Bringing a hand up to his hair, Hope stroked it as she echoed what he was saying, her words murmured against his ear as she held him tight still.

"Good boys don't come and you're a very, very good boy. Oh, Quentin--" She pressed a kiss to his head. "So good, you're so good. My good boy," she told him again, another kiss. "All mine."

She did not pull back or pull away or move in any way. More than anything, she wanted to be open for him, for the edging that he'd wanted.