Peter kisses back, licking deep into Stiles' mouth to taste him, to really taste him.

At their luck he still had a packet of lube in his pockets so he could prepare Stiles before he would claim him. After all, he was here to take and make him his, not to hurt him. Peter tears the packet with his teeth making a mess on his fingers but it's more than enough to prepare Stiles with it.

"Tell me... how do you feel, Stiles. Tell me." he can smell, of course, but he wants Stiles to also know in a way. To describe it in words. Meanwhile he's working two fingers inside the boy, impatient and needy for claiming. It's hot and dirty and they are both a mess, but Peter had never wanted Stiles more than in that moment.