"I didn't intend to..." Peter breathes as his hips move on their own accord, thrusting deep and wanting into Stiles. The air gets knocked out of his lungs at the sensation. The warm and deep wetness surrounding him, the scent of need from his need, the voices he makes, the way he looks at him, the way he kisses him.

Peter kisses back hungry and demanding, just as aching as his mate. He's hard, even harder as he's taking the boy just like he wanted. Without holding back, claiming and needy. His hands slide up his sides, leaving messy trails behind them, but under his fingertips there's Stiles' skin and his power and it's all Peter's.

He leans down to drown in kisses and licks before he tilts his head to kiss into the boy's neck, his hips dictating a rough, impatient rhythm.