Beyond The Bite(Sterek fanfiction)(M/M)

Chapter 17

"The full moon's influence on me isn't as obvious anymore. However, my control is still tested—especially around you. The possibility that I could hurt you unintentionally is still there."

Understanding his concern, I replied, "I understand now. I shouldn't have joked."

His expression softened further, and he pulled me into his lap, my body unconsciously responding to his touch. His lips grazed my collarbone tenderly as he spoke again, his words delivered with a hint of levity, breaking the seriousness of our previous conversation.

"If you ever express interest in... alternative experiences," Derek started with a hint of mischief, "I'm not opposed."

A laugh caught in my throat as I settled deeper into his embrace, "Shut up," I playfully chided.

I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, warmth spreading across my cheeks as I nestled closer to him.

He chuckled low in his throat, his hands exploring the curve of my hips.

"Are you my good boy, Stiles?" he teased, his voice a deep, enticing rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.

His growl, flirty and laden with innuendo, the words resonated within me, stirring a deep-seated desire. I let out a low groan, involuntarily clenching my fingers against his skin while his movements instigated a building pressure. Derek's hips thrusted upward, pressing insistently against my backside. Not even the thin barrier of my briefs could dampen the warmth of his burgeoning arousal against me.

Surrendering to the wave of desire, my breath hitched as our lips met in a collision of raw need.

Gasping for air, our kiss broke, and I leaned in, my forehead resting against his. With the totality of my presence, I openly declared , "I'm yours."

The impact of my declaration was palpable, resonating deeply within Derek. It was as if we were each on separate islands, divided by a vast expanse of sea, with every emotion and thought he possessed washing over me like waves caressing a distant shoreline.

Derek's response resonated through me—our bond was profound and unshakeable.

"As I am yours," he echoed, and moments later we were tangled together beneath the sheets once more, not surfacing again until the evening stretched long shadows across the room.

•

-Derek's POV-

"Here," I whispered gently, presenting Stiles with a warm mug of tea.

Our recent days had been a haze of close proximity, the kind that didn't leave much room for sleep. Yet, I wished for the steaming cup to at least alleviate a bit of the weariness I saw etched into his delicate features. His vibrant eyes, usually alight with mischief, had dimmed, underscored by shadows. His laughter, which once filled rooms, now seemed to carry the weight of our burdens, each chuckle sapping his strength further. My senses, though heightened, couldn't pinpoint any ailment; Stiles was the picture of health, with a werewolf's resilience. But the stress of our recent encounters and the relentless pursuit of a solution to the eldritch Mist had taken its toll, no matter how many cups of tea I offered in solace.

Our mating bond had forged a pathway for his emotions and musings to softly tint my consciousness. Still, I only captured snippets—a poignant reflection in solitude, his thoughts a fascinating maze when focused on research, a deep yearning for his absent father during quiet moments when he thought himself unobserved.

When Stiles let down his guard, his feelings were palpable, his thoughts resonating with clarity. He wore a mask of humor and candidness, but I could discern the façade from the truth. To many, Stiles didn't require unboxing; his exterior was a jester's riddle, perpetually diverting. But beneath it all, there was a depth they overlooked.