Breath hitching with pleasure as Peter tugs him even closer, the grip on the werewolf's shoulders tighten, blunt human nails digging into his skin. Letting his eyes close in blissful pleasure Stiles lets himself go, gives into everything he's feeling- the pounding pleasure of Peter claiming him, the thrill of power he'd felt when he killed the mermaid, the pride that filled him as he tore it apart for what they came for, the warmth he felt at Peter's praise.

When he opens his eyes again to look at his mate, his alpha, they glow a molten amber. He can feel it, his spark, the power pulsing inside of him. He wonders if Peter can feel it too, being this close to him, bonded as they are as mates.

"Peter!" Stiles gasps out as the man hits that spot inside of him, pounding into it, pleasure rippling through him.