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

Stiles tensed and shivered happily at the press of teeth against his neck. He knew Derek was coming again, he could feel each time, not just from the stuttering of his hips and his growl; he could feel it inside him.

“Nngh, Yeah. Yeah- I’m good,” he whispered in response, even though Derek was still fucking into him. Which Stiles was absolutely not complaining about. Especially since he could feel the vibrations of Derek’s rumbles all through him

And God, he loved being that close to Derek. He loved the way Derek held him right up to his body. He loved that they couldn’t be parted now. Loved the thought that they wouldn’t until his mate was satisfied he was pregnant. Even if he wasn’t.

Stiles let out another cry as Derek rutted against him and rubbed his prostate. Everything was so sensitive. Everything felt so good.

The growl of his given name sent a shudder of pleasure through him, his cock leaking, fingers twisting in the sheets as he came once again.

Derek was pressed possessively over his back, growling, his fangs pressed gently against his neck- he wasn’t fully shifted, but if anything it just made Stiles want it more.

“The others will be able to smell, won’t they? They’ll know we’ve been mating since yesterday?” He wanted to see Scott’s face when he smelt them, though he didn’t know if he’d know what it meant. Or if that would be enough to convince him-

“Would you-“ Stiles rocked back against Derek, groaning as his mate’s knot rubbed his prostate. Too sensitive. “Would you be able to smell if I was pregnant? Would I smell different? Do I smell or taste different now? Now you’ve claimed me?” He drew in a breathe. “This feels different, this time.”