Re: Bathroom
Derek growled again, against Stiles' skin, and he let the boy's hands pull him out. "You are mine," he declared, hotly, and pressed the boy back against the sink, lifted him easily to set on the counter, and moved his mouth down that pale column of neck, to ring his neck with bruises. "Are you prepped?" he asked. He hadn't demanded it, like with Isaac, but he was working up to it. "Are you slick for me? Or do I need to finger you open?"