S͟T͟E͟R͟E͟K͟ I͟M͟A͟G͟I͟N͟E͟S͟

Predatory Instinct

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Basically just smut, light BDSM, dom/sub, read at your own risk
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He couldn't take his eyes away; his aventurine irises blown black with lust and watching with a predatory glint as Stiles stepped forward, slender hips moving to the beat of the music and his lean hands travelling up and down his body.

The rhythmic pounding of the music filtered through the air, the heavy base rattling in their chests as their racing hearts began to match the beat.

Stiles' hands explored his body, gently tugging at the hem of his shirt to reveal patches of mole-speckled skin or gliding down his thigh—a movement that made him gasp and blush from the excitement, which he knew made Derek smile.

He looked up through his long lashes at the man who sat declined on the couch, his suit jacket hanging open, his vest and shirt unbuttoned and sagging, and his tie pulled undone hand hanging limply around his neck. In one hand, he held a glass of whiskey, the ice cubes glistening as they rattled about in the glass. His nails—drawn out to pointed claws—tapped against the glass, the chiming sound making Stiles' heart leap.

Derek lifted the drink to his lips and Stiles couldn't help but lick his lips; he wanted to taste those lips, the warmth of his kiss and the lingering taste of liquor. He fought back a needy whimper as his crotch throbbed; he would get what he deserved in time, he just had to earn it first.

He moved his body more fluidly, stripping off his shirt and exposing the rippling taut muscles beneath his pale skin.

He heard Derek sigh, the sound spurring him on as he toyed with the buckle of his belt. He pulled the belt free, the leather hissing as it slid through the loops of fabric and dropped to ground. Stiles toyed with his waistline, his growing erection strained against the tight denim of his jeans, but he knew the rules: pants didn't come off until Derek said so.

Stiles trailed his hands up his abs as he bit into his lower lip and continued to dance, swinging his hips and grinding against the air, the friction in his jeans driving him on as he ached for more.

He melted beneath Derek's predatory gaze, fighting back the whimpers and moans that rose into his throat.

Finally, Derek nodded, the sign that Stiles could approach.

Stiles sauntered over to him, clambering up onto the couch and straddling Derek's waist. He moved his hips to the beat, grinding his hips against Derek's. He could feel the man's growing bulge press against his throbbing erection, but Derek didn't give away any hint of excitement, his cold gaze locked onto Stiles as he watched him melt.

Derek set one hand on Stiles' hip, smirking as the boy ground back against his touch. He hid his smile in his drink as he took another sip, slowly sliding his hand down to Stiles' ass and groping the soft tissue.

Stiles grabbed the back of the couch to stop himself for falling forward as he fought back his cry.

He ground his hips hard against Derek's lap, pushing back against his hand as Derek pulling him closer slightly; encouraging him.

Stiles moved faster and faster until he was practically riding Derek through his clothes. He was at the point of begging when Derek set down his glass and set both hands on Stiles' hips, stilling him.

"Do you want to keep playing?" Derek asked; his low, husky voice was nothing more than a whisper but it rolled straight through Stiles' body, leaving him shuddering breathlessly.

Stiles nodded excitedly.

"And you know what to say if you want to stop?"

Stiles nodded again.