[ Derek's not prepared for Tate to press in deeper. He hisses, but he loves it, his eyelids fluttering and his jaw dropping open, and Derek never really thought of himself as-- as a bottom, but the more time he's spent here, the more he's explored, the more he's starting to wonder if that's worth challenging. His legs actually tremble a little, he sees fireworks behind his eyes, and he'll realize, later, when he sees four indented, parallel scratches in the wood, that his claws came out for a second as he scrambled to hold on and tense up.
Tate takes his mouth off his cock and Derek knew he was going to, because he asked him a fucking question, but he still makes this noise that's caught between a whimper and a threatening, knee-jerk growl, like he's angry at him for stopping. He digs his canine into his bottom lip until it feels like it's going to break blood, and he drifts away from touching Tate and looking at Tate to just grip the floor with both hands again, watching his hand glide up and down his cock.
Will you help me. Derek's nodding before Tate finishes the question, then rapidly shaking his head when he gets a hold of himself. He can't. He can't force Tate to do anything. The thought of it's killing him, and he strains even harder in Tate's hand, pressing his ass against his finger for more once it's taken away from him, but-- but he can't. ]
I don't--
[ He stops moving, like he's suddenly catching himself getting eager, getting horny. He tenses up, tight and vice-like around Tate's finger when Tate finally gives it back, gasping a little at how sudden it is, but-- but still wanting more. One finger isn't enough. ]
I don't-- I don't think so. I don't want to hurt you.
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Tate takes his mouth off his cock and Derek knew he was going to, because he asked him a fucking question, but he still makes this noise that's caught between a whimper and a threatening, knee-jerk growl, like he's angry at him for stopping. He digs his canine into his bottom lip until it feels like it's going to break blood, and he drifts away from touching Tate and looking at Tate to just grip the floor with both hands again, watching his hand glide up and down his cock.
Will you help me. Derek's nodding before Tate finishes the question, then rapidly shaking his head when he gets a hold of himself. He can't. He can't force Tate to do anything. The thought of it's killing him, and he strains even harder in Tate's hand, pressing his ass against his finger for more once it's taken away from him, but-- but he can't. ]
I don't--
[ He stops moving, like he's suddenly catching himself getting eager, getting horny. He tenses up, tight and vice-like around Tate's finger when Tate finally gives it back, gasping a little at how sudden it is, but-- but still wanting more. One finger isn't enough. ]
I don't-- I don't think so. I don't want to hurt you.