Peter bares his teeth at the begging and the way Stiles offers his neck. Such submission from someone so powerful, it wants to make Peter howl. His moans coming out as growls as he snaps his hips against Stiles. His body rolls, riding the waves of need and pleasure.

Somehow he manages to call Stiles' name, picking up his rhythm. Sometimes he wishes Stiles could mark him, just like he does. The pain would be one thing, but the mark... The boy still leaves his scent on him, probably only noticeable by Peter, it's not enough. He groans again, placing open mouthed kisses on the boy's neck.

His hands keep Stiles firm against him as he's taking him with more passion. Deep and still so demanding.