What the hell is a Stiles? (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _stiles) wrote, |
He arched himself when he felt the brush of Derek’s teeth against his nipple, uttering a much softer cry, hooking his legs around the back of Derek’s thighs as though there were any way his mate could pull back.
That in addition to Derek’s grip, the way he pounded into him, the way his knot rubbed relentlessly against his prostate. That final orgasm was too good. Too good. The aftershocks rolled through him over and over, even as Derek came, and Stiles tipped his head back, baring his throat once again to his mate. Derek felt so good, on top of him, covering him protectively, filling him, over and around and inside him. And still Stiles was trembling.
He didn’t notice what the others were doing. He didn’t see Erica and Boyd holding each other close as they moaned softly into each other’s mouths, he didn’t see Isaac stroking himself quickly to orgasm as he gazed hungrily at Derek and Stiles. Everything was his mate. Everything was Derek and his body aching to turn their mutual pleasure into something even more wonderful.
How much could one tiny pill stop, anyway?
Stroking his fingers through Derek’s hair, Stiles drew Derek down to press his mouth back against his mark.
“I love you so much,” he whispered, slowly relaxing, slowly unclenching everything so that, eventually, Derek could pull out. “I love you.”