With his werewolf senses, Derek could hear the pounding of his pulse, scent the dampness of saliva and sweat. The texture of Stiles' hair was like silk, soft but thick, and when he looked down, he could see the faint traces of red from the boy's swollen mouth.
"Good," he said again, voice rougher than before. "Now take it all...." He pushed deeper, feeling the boy's throat constrict around him. "....such a slut for my cock," he murmured, approvingly.