Was that a flush? Maybe. Trick of the light, perhaps. "You're not so bad yourself," Killian pointed out, managing to get in a playful nip or two of teeth on tempting lips before he was taken and slowly, slow, he was glad for the slowness - he was also glad they were alone, because his accompanying moan was loud; a hiss through his teeth, his head tipped back against the pillows and his grip on Garrett became white-knuckled.
Pain receded quickly; he had a high tolerance for it and it wasn't even white-hot or blinding to begin with. The drunk-on-pleasure stare was half-lidded, blue eyes sloshy, and he watched the other man, both legs reaching around him and...cling. Possessiveness, engaged.
In a minute, he'd actually use his hand for something important. Like tending to his own screaming obscenities arousal. But he needed a moment to revel in this first.