Derek sucks in a soft breath, green eyes watching Stiles as the teen lowers his head toward the erection that lays against his stomach. The touch of his tongue to Derek's cock is electric, makes him moan, his body tensing with the feeling of it. That wet trail that he licks up to the tip feels like fire, and there's a shiver in his shoulders with the sensation of it. It's been so long since he's felt this, and it feels so good, the way that he licks, tasting and teasing until Derek's hands are curled in the comforter on the bed.

Stiles might be a virgin, might have never done this, but he's still good at this. There's a rough gasp on his lips as Stiles kisses at the tip, and then he's parting his lips and taking him in, and there's a rough catch to his breath that's all pleasure. When Stiles starts bobbing his head, tongue sweeping over the head on the upstroke, Derek has a lot of words for this. Terrible is absolutely not one of them. The rhythm has his hands flexing, and normally it's easy enough to keep in control, but he can feel the sensation in his fingertips, has to force his hands to stay as they are.

Control has always been what he was good at, but somehow the incredibly human teen is stealing it as surely as he steals his breath. "Stiles-" There's a hint of a growl to the way Derek says his name, voice low, breathy, sensual.