Alpha Hale

Chapter 9

Stiles didn’t understand, but somehow he survived the night.

There had been a lot of sex. Considering Stiles had only just lost his virginity the amount of copulation they partook in seemed excessive, but felt impressive enough to warrant legendary status. Bards would probably sing of it for years to come, that was for certain.

The only problem followed in the wake of Lydia's highly illuminating lecture several days earlier.

Feelings. Stiles hadn't wanted to have them, keeping things purely physical between them would have been fine, more than fine when taking into account how great they were at it, but his emotions had had other plans. Plans involving cuddling Derek and treating him right and-

Well. That certainly changed things. And the close proximity was not helping the matter. At all. The moon’s peak couldn’t have come any goddamn sooner.

Stiles was pondering all of this as Derek fucked him hard up against the kitchen counter, since they’d rolled out of bed to replenish food supplies and had become distracted and he curled into the power of his thrust, quickly losing any hope of concentrating on anything else.

He groaned into Derek’s neck, heart beat thrumming against the countertop wildly when the alpha suddenly stopped. Dazedly, Stiles was aware that the bastard couldn’t possibly be finished and he was less than pleased at the sudden interruption.

What the fuck?

“What?” He gasped, distracted by the lack of Derek stimulation. “What’s going on?”

“It’s…” Derek started, pausing to jerk his cock into the blistering heat of Stiles' body, leaving him a sweaty unsatisfied mess as he grunted out appreciation. Oh yes, he could keep doing that now and forever, please.

Only that was all Derek did, the fucker. Stiles was tempted to use his own helpful hand, but the alpha had his arms carefully pinned against the counter and free motion was not a current possibility. Not that he was complaining about that. The abrupt pause on the other hand-

“Don’t stop, asshole,” he snapped, moving in an effort to reclaim their previous pace, because he was being cock blocked by the universe. And that was not cool, man.

“It’s your jeep,” Derek grumbled against the cheek, mouth searing every freaking inch of him as he used his hands to caress Stiles into calmness.

“Don’t care,” he muttered, trying valiantly to get friction against the stupid alpha who hadn’t pulled out and was therefore prolonging the torture with the hint. Stiles had had enough withholding for one day. “Dammit. Would you just- move or something?”

Derek snorted as if his irritation was amusing and Stiles cursed his frustration, the sound quickly transforming into a moan as the alpha pulled out and slammed back in. Stiles hip bones jerked against the unyielding surface of the counter, hard enough to bruise, but he was too involved in how fucking good it felt to notice.

“I can… hear your jeep,” Derek continued in between shallow breaths as he titled his hips, bringing Stiles to the edge again as if he hadn’t just left him hanging for an entire millennium.

Stiles needed his hands back so he could grab every inch of alpha within reach and Derek seemed to realise this, releasing them and lifting him off the counter until their chests were flush together. The alpha’s lips found his neck again, brushing softer than a touch against his skin and the unexpected intensity of his barely there caresses, and the slow slide within him, pushed Stiles right over the edge.

Derek followed soon after, tipping his face into the curve of Stiles' throat as he shuddered through his climax.

“What about my jeep?” he wondered once they'd both recovered a little.