For His Protection [A Sterek Fanfiction]

For His Protection (Part 3)

“If you ask me if ‘I’m sure’ one more time, Derek, you may just succeed in talking me out of it?”

Derek raised an eye brow, but his face was buried in Stiles neck so there was no way the younger male would have seen it.

“Really?” he inquired. Stiles hadn’t stopped shaking since they started, and his body began to quake even more so once Derek had finally managed to spread him out over the table.

He didn’t doubt that the more he pressed the topic, the more Stiles would think towards running right out the door, chased by his own fears, but the teen’s voice didn’t sound in a tone that said he was ready to flee. Even if he did, he wouldn’t get far what with Derek’s supernatural speed carrying him to his flank in seconds. He wouldn’t force himself on Stiles if that was not what he wanted, but the brunette certainly wouldn’t allow him to leave. Not at this hour.

Stiles licked his lips and closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly feeling very self conscious about his body and very aware to the fact that his shirt was strewn a few feet away on the floor; away from his grasp.

Derek’s body was reacting to their actions as well, though certainly not in a way Stiles would even begin to understand — apart from the obvious rigidness developing down below. Stiles could feel it through the denim of his thigh.

He would be lying if he said he wasn’t scared of Derek. His heart was beating so fast he though it might explode, and that wasn’t just because of what they were about to do.

As a werewolf, sometimes Derek was unable to control himself. Sometimes he was unaware he was doing something wrong until after it had already happened. Stiles had been witness to this on a few occasions; then cowering behind a slab of drywall and paint afterwards whilst waiting for the man to return to some semblance of human form and mentality.

When the beast within took over, there was no telling how strong those reins would be. Derek usually held a tight hold, but his animalistic desires were strong, and not even Derek knew just how well he could suppress them.

Derek’s shoulders were shaking as he planted a series of kisses down the side of Stiles neck. He’d never been one for gentleness, and on occasion he would forget that’s what he was striving for and sucked on the skin a little too hard, leaving a red splotch of colour.

Stiles whimpered as Derek continued his ministrations. He worked at the flesh with his lips and tongue so intently it was as if he were working on a project.

“Uh.. Der…Derek,” he said brokenly, and the older male leaned up again. He was standing at the foot of the table in-between Stiles spread legs which hung over the edge somewhat awkwardly and uncomfortably. Unlike Stiles, he was fully clothed, just as before, and it didn’t seem fair.

Propping himself up on his elbows, the teen’s line of vision connected right with Derek’s middle due to his avoidance to meet the green eyes watching him.

“Obviously I’m not an expert, but …aren’t you supposed to… you know, take something off for this to…” Stiles train of thought hit a solid stop. Crashing with a fiery explosion, bits of metal flew every which way as the man who stood over top of him reached down for the hem of his shirt immediately and pulled it up over his head. When he dropped it by their feet and then turned back to look at the male lain there and rest his palms above the human’s knees, Stiles eyes were running zig-zag patterns all over his chest. He hadn’t a clue where to look now.

“Better?” Derek asked, and Stiles shook his head.

“Honestly, no. You just made my …situation, ten times worse.”