He comes and it feels like a hammer to his chest, air rushing back into his lungs as the blood rushes back into his head and it feels like a crashing wave against the cliffside. Intense and violent until it’s washed away with the tide, and he’s left trying to catch his breath and with a wetness in his pants. His throat burns and he’s drained and limp, barely able to make an appreciative sound, even at the petting of his hair. When his heart rate finally comes down and his breathing evens out, he tilts his head back, peering at the cowgirl with sleepy eyes.