Derek (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} surlier) wrote, |
But Stiles was making that noise, and his cock twitched as if he hadn't just come thirty seconds ago. And his mate, beautiful sweet mate that he was, was spreading his legs, and he whimpered around his cock. He needed that smell, needed to taste it, and pulled off with a swirl of his tongue around the tip.
Just a little taste -- his free hand guided Stiles' leg up, thigh over his shoulder and he nuzzled at the slick that had already turned his skin damp there. He pressed his nose sharply against the skin, breathing in audibly, a little quiver running through his frame because he wanted that smell. Wanted it all over him, his face, his hands, his cock, his bed, his whole fucking house. Eau du Stiles everywhere.
"You have no idea how good you smell," he ground out and finally gave in to the desire to taste.
Stiles always tasted good, always, and Derek didn't know if now it was because of the bite or the fact that part of what was leaking out of him was his come from last night, or maybe his brain just freaking short circuited with that first taste, cause now it was fucking awesome, and he was moaning and growling as he lapped at his thighs. "Fuck," he managed to gasp-growl, gums going a little sore as his teeth poked out and everything was ignored in favor of Stiles' hands in his hair and the taste of him.
It was a taste that only grew stronger the closer he got to his opening, and by the time he reached it, he was growling with every lick, his grip shifting to Stiles' hips so he could pull him onto his waiting tongue. Anyone else, he would have worried about tongue fucking them half-shifted as he was. Stiles? No. For Stiles he pressed closer until his teeth poked into the flesh of his bottom -- presenting them, but no where close to breaking the skin.