Maybe I want you to do it to me.

[Tate answers when he realizes Derek's no longer going to play the texting game, abandoning his phone and swinging his leg over the loft's edge. He shifts closer so he's sitting right on the edge of it, boxers hiked up one thigh and his hand gripping the mattress as he gazes down. Derek's probably right in that past a certain point of pressure and pleasure, Tate'd start to get agitated - be exhausted enough to want to stop, even if he's doing it mostly to see how much he can please Derek. He wants to be the only one who can, and if Reggie can keep up with that werewolf libido? Tate wants to too.

He thinks he can, anyway. What perk is it to heal back to your dead state all the time if you don't make use of it? It's not like this would permanently ruin him, or really debilitate him for more than a day - two, at the most. Could even be practice in seeing how far he can recover and how fast. He cocks his head to the side, intently eyeing Derek.]

I can take it and you know it. You can't break me, you know. I don't even think you could kill me if you tried.