Owen’s touch grows harder and he makes a strangled noise, heels digging into the bed as he tries to squirm away in earnest. It hurts and his body instinctively wants to make it stop, even though mentally he finds the torture and submission of it incredibly hot. Owen has a really good grip on his wrist, though, and is putting enough weight into it that Garrett would need to really work to break free. Which is hard to do safely when the man has a hand around his cock.

With no way to free himself, Garrett is stuck writhing and squirming under Owen, trying so hard to calm the instinctive struggles of his body and force himself to take it. That wickedly amused sneer from Owen sends a shiver up his spine, drawing a wavering sound from his parted lips.

“Owen,” he whines, face screwed up in pain. (And maybe a little thrill under all the overwhelm.) “Oh Maker, oh fuck...”