We Found Love in a Halloween Rave (The Team Jacob Chronicles)

You and Me, Baby (Ain't Nothin' But Mammals)

"Say it again," Derek growls, voice lower than it's ever been before.

"Daddy!" Stiles pants out, limbs sprawling as Derek slams him onto the bed.

Derek rips open Stiles' shirt, teeth instantly nipping at the bared skin at his neck. Stiles arches into the sensation, body bowing upward as he gasps in pleasure.

"Derek," Stiles moans. "Derek, please."

Derek lifts himself up and reaches over his head, tugging off his t-shirt to reveal the chiseled expanse of his chest and abs. He slithers down the bed, stripping both himself and Stiles until they're both naked, Stiles breathing heavily on his back in the middle of Derek's bed and Derek standing at the end, muscles taut and heavy cock bobbing in the air.

"How do you want it, baby?" Derek asks lowly, eyes dark. He takes a hand and starts stroking himself slowly, gaze riveted on Stiles' twitching limbs.

"I want you to wreck me," Stiles says seriously, words almost choked out of him in their rush to be said. "God, I want your fat cock to fucking wreck me, Daddy. Please."

Stiles knows this is a game, one in a long line of games they've played with each other. But the intent—the emotion—behind what they told one another only moments before, well, it's making everything that much more intense.

More real.

There's another purpose now, to their games. It's no longer Stiles and Derek fulfilling kinks and chasing orgasms.

It's no longer just Stiles and Derek getting their rocks off together.

No, it's now Stiles and Derek getting their rocks off together because they fucking love each other.

And that makes them both fucking desperate.

Derek practically launches himself at Stiles, the weight of his body grinding Stiles into the mattress as he kisses his way up Stiles' throat.

"Daddy's going to take care of you, baby," Derek breathes against his slick lips, one hand sliding over to the bedside table to grab the bottle of lube. "I'm gonna take such good care of you, Stiles."

Stiles nods, lips brushing back and forth across Derek's mouth.

They stare at each other as Derek slicks up his fingers and slowly works two of them into the tight clench of Stiles' ass.

"Fuck," Derek hisses, pressing his forehead against Stiles'. "You're always so goddamn tight, baby boy."

Stiles hips jerk at the name, and he can't help but dig his hands into the bedding on either side of him.

"You like that, boy? You like being Daddy's special pet?" Derek works another finger into him, the palm of his hand grinding against Stiles' perineum.

"Yes," Stiles grits out, throat swallowing convulsively. "Yes, I do." Tears form in his eyes as Derek ruthlessly massages his prostate. "I love it so much, Daddy."

Derek carefully removes his fingers from Stiles' hole, both of his hands working their way down to Stiles' knees. Derek grabs ahold of Stiles' legs and slowly lifts them, his lithe body curling in on itself until Stiles is bent in half.

Stiles can't help the agonized groan that works its way up his throat.

Derek stuffs a pillow under the small of Stiles' back and then slots himself firmly between Stiles' spread thighs. He lowers himself until he's resting heavily on top of him, Derek's body stretching Stiles' legs even further.