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Summary
Stiles let out a small laugh.
In between strokes, Derek mumbled, "What's funny?"
"It's just... I'm sitting on your face." Stiles giggled.
Derek pushed Stiles up a tiny bit. "Stiles. Shut up." He dove back in, attacking Stiles' hole with licks and jabs, growing hard at the sounds of Stiles' frantic moans and gasps, and the feeling of his fingers, scrabbling against Derek's stomach. Derek sped up, licking longer and deeper into Stiles with each stroke, and not because he knew exactly how Stiles would react. Nope. That's definitely not why he did it.
