You get too distracted with Garrett Graham’s chain while he’s fucking you ⋆ mdni, female reader, unprotected sex, teasing.
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The room was humid and hot, too hot, and the air smelled faintly of sex, sweat and his cologne. His room was dark, except for the low golden light coming from the single lamp on his nightstand.
A calloused hand traveled around your body until it settled on the flesh of your hip, lifting it slightly so he could sink himself deeper into your warmth.
“Fuck, Garrett—” you gasped, eyebrows furrowing as your manicured nails dug into the muscles of his back, right over his tattoo.
He smirked. “Yeah?”
Damn him.
His face hovered above yours, dark curls damp with sweat falling across his forehead. That lazy smile played on his mouth as he watched you fall apart, purely from the slow roll of his hips, the burn and the stretch of his cock sliding easily in and out of your pussy, again and again.
And if that wasn’t enough, the thin, golden chain dangling between you, swinging with every thrust while catching the lamplight, made your stomach curl. Now, you couldn’t stop staring at it, the way it moved back and forth, brushing against your breasts each time he sank deep.
“Baby,” he rasped, voice laced with amusement. “You’re gettin’ fuckin’ distracted again.”
Your mouth opened to answer, but the words died in your throat as Garrett punctuated them with a cruel roll of hips, dragging the thick, leaking head of his cock along that spongy spot inside you. Immediately, your back arched, and anything you were about to say gets replaced by an embarrassingly loud moan.
“I—I’m not,” you breathed out, eyes still glued to the swinging chain.
“Yeah? you sure?” Garrett laughed, low and dangerous in that way that made you dizzy. He dipped lower, close enough for you to feel the three day stubble on his defined jaw scratch your cheek, close enough for the cool metal of the chain to brush against your nipple. Your breath hitched. “Don’t lie to me, baby.” He drawled against your earlobe.
You tried to answer. You really did. But what came out was barely a word, and more like… a strangled noise, and the fact that his cock was throbbing right inside you, coated with your arousal, stuffing you full with every thrust, letting you feel every ridge and vein along his length. Fuck, it didn’t help at all.
And he noticed it, of course.
“Shit, don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid.”
“Jesus, shut up,” you choked out, tightening your legs around his waist, keeping him right where he was.
“Oh, so she talks.” The hand on your hip suddenly disappeared, sliding south, lower, and lower. All while that annoying smirk never seemed to leave his face.
“Don’t—” A borderline pornographic moan tore from your lips as the rough pad of Garrett’s thumb drew lazy, effortless circles on your swollen clit. “Don’t— get so cocky.”
“Me? Baby—”
But before he could finish another arrogant remark, your trembling fingers reached up to wrap around the cool, golden chain. Desperate, you tugged hard on it, pulling him down until his chapped lips met yours. His hips faltered for a split second, and a groan rumbled from his chest as he kissed you back. The kiss was raw, messy, and intense. The back of his neck burned from the pressure of the chain, your grip was something, and he was sure it would leave a mark.
A deep, sore, red line that he’d make you kiss better later in the shower, because he was definitely nowhere near done with you.
