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What the hell is a Stiles? (_stiles) wrote,

Don't come yet. Stiles whined, because now he'd been asked it was going to be almost impossible to think of anything else, but he wanted this more. He wanted Derek's fingers digging into his hair, wanted to hear those moans, the curses, see the flashing in his mate's eyes as he picked up exactly what it was Stiles wanted and gave it to him so very willingly.

Fuck, he loved those noises Derek made, loved that he was happy to fuck into Stiles' mouth- Stiles ran his fingers over Derek's thighs, dragging his nails gently across the skin, caressing the tight muscles there.

The next sound he made was more like a sobbing moan when Derek spoke about his knot. Yes. Yes. Stiles would love to get his lips around it. He'd love to feel it stretch his mouth open. He'd love to suck on it. And he could only imagine how much Derek would come in his mouth, how Stiles wouldn't be able to hold it all in his mouth, the mess they'd both make-

He shifted, lifting his bottom into the air again to stop himself from rubbing himself against the mattress. Derek didn't want him to come, and he was going to have to do a lot to make that happen. Or not happen.

Stiles raised his eyes as well, looking up at Derek, wanting to watch the expressions on his face, to bask in the glow of his eyes and the way Derek bit down on his lip. He groaned again, purposeful, feeling the vibrations move down Derek's dick.