**Just a random AN to point out that the best Teen Wolf line is, and will always be, "Lydia, get off your cute little ass and dance with me now." Enjoy the next installment, and please please pretty please leave a review? I rewatched the entire first season of TW all for you guys, just to get my inspiration! (Alright, because I really wanted to. But still!) Thanks so much for reading, everyone! I love you!**
Lydia was liking this, the pretty stars exploding behind her eyelids blurred together like her favorite tie-dye shirt when she was a child. The spicy taste of dark chocolate continued to coat her tongue in a pleasing way. Her hand crept up to the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer, she tilted her head and deepened the cautious kiss.
A sudden, nagging feeling in her stomach made her shiver, this wasn't Jackson. She knew this much. Perhaps it was a hallucination. "It" being the man who's large hand was lightly squeezing her right buttock.
She wondered if the drugs intensified the sense of touch, because her nerve-endings were practically buzzing with pleasure from his simple actions. But who? Her head was beginning to spin again, but the colours were clearer now, as was the man. She pulled back from the kiss, and looked him straight in the eyes. His warm, molten chocolate eyes. She blushed a little, her actions had his bottom lip trembling, and as lay herself more securely on his lap, what pressed against her side made her shudder.
Lydia grinned, tracing the inseam of his jeans, until reaching the obvious bulge on the crotch. His fingertips dug into her arse, and she bit her lip, her favorite, well practiced seduction technique.
Stiles was close to madness, his desire for her was staggering. He wondered how long he could hold himself back. Surely any more of this and he'd have to tear her clothes from her body and claim her as his own.
It was like being in one of his dreams, the dreams that occurred at least twice a week. The dreams in which he ran his hands over every luscious inch of Lydia's perfect body, the dreams in which he heard her moans and gasps of his name. Sounds that only increased as he slid his length into her dripping core. He'd always wake from these covered in a sheen of sweat, and usually (unfortunately) he'd find the pants he'd been wearing would be rather on the sticky side. It wasn't enough she had to tease him by flouncing past at school, but then she invaded and took over his dreams.
The only other dreams that happened that often were those nightmares... The ones where he's running, and yelling out in a terrified, childish voice: "Mom! Mommy!" But no answer comes, he's all alone in the dark.
But now there's someone here, a glowing flame that warms the darkness. The light that catches her hair is like heaven on earth, dazzling and glorious. It's warmth contrasts with the cool rivers that flow from her entrancing eyes, and the silver moonlight that shimmered off her skin. He was drowning in it, submerged in the soft and the sweet and the beauty. Oh fuck, the all consuming beauty of the girl that was pushing herself against his hands with such eagerness. The girl whose palm was curved around the throbbing shape in his jeans.
She was desperate, surely the drugs were to blame for the delicious, heated tingling that was coating the most intimate part of her. Her clit pulsed and she could feel the increasing dampness of her miniscule underwear. Lydia needed this, needed him. Needed... Stiles. Because that's who it was. Who she knew it was. But she couldn't let herself think that, she couldn't know that she was betraying Jackson. But, it wasn't as if Jackson had never hurt her in such a way.
And this man, so new in her life, yet he'd been there for so long. She knew that, she knew she'd some how managed to look through him for so long. She looked right through the window, and never even noticed the glass. She'd always seen his devoted gazes the way she saw every other guy's. They were unimportant, compared to the affection of Jackson. Compared to perfect Jackson, all those other boys meant nothing.
But this was no boy that was brushing her hair from her sensitive neck, and leaning in to press his soft lips to the delicate white skin he found there. She gave a whimper, it felt so careful, yet so very insistent. It send a flood of heat from that spot, it spread through her body, sending her most sensitive nerves into yet more spasms. This was a man. All of a sudden, and in a way that was perfect, and fantastic.
She didn't protest when he slid his hand upwards from her arse, and to her shoulder, where he pushed the straps of her dress and bra downwards, and began nibbling at the skin along her collar bone. He sat her up slightly, supporting her weight with one arm, he pushed the straps on the other side down also, so the swell of her breasts were the only things holding up her clothing.
"Lydia, may I...?" He gestured to the straps, and she smiled, nodding silently as she drank in the perfection of his features.
Stiles groaned out loud at the first sight of her bare chest. He tugged the clothing down hard enough to make them bounce as they came free of their restriction. He bucked his hips to great more friction between himself and her hand that still slowly rubbed his erection. He'd been dreaming of this for years, and it was better than he'd ever imagined. They were magnificent, glorious, perfect.
The skin there was white as lilies, smooth, alabaster, and slightly transparent. He could trace the powder blue of her veins with a fingertip, if he so wished. White, but for her small, pink nipples, hardened with the arousal that he had caused. His dick throbbed at the thought, and she gave a little giggle. His hand reached up and cupped her right breast, the soft squeeze he gave turned her giggle into a moan.
He looked at them with such an odd glee, squeezing and rubbing and watching in a curious, and wondered way. He was a kid on Christmas morning, playing with his new favorite toy. Finally he began to gauge her reactions to the things he did. His fingertips traced over her silky skin delicately, starting just below her underarm, he began making feather light patterns across her skin. They followed the outside curve of each one, and began zig zagging up the warm mounds, and stopped beside the hardened peaks. She gasped, craving his touch, yet he continued to tease. His fingers circled her nipples slowly, and it wasn't until she moaned that he brushed over each on in turn. She liked that, and he resolved to do it more often as she arched her beautiful back and pushed her breasts harder against his hands.
Stiles quite suddenly picked her up from her position across his lap, and turned her around, laying her carefully down and resting her head on her pillow. He got on his hands and knees over her, and leaned in. His lips brushed hers so softly that it tickled, and left her needing more. So he leaned in further, creating a fantastic pressure between them. His tongue flicked out over her bottom lip, and she parted them gladly, kissing him with passionate desire that made both of their heads spin.
He broke the kiss, and she turned her head to the side, exposing her neck to him again. He wanted to laugh at her insistence, but pressed his lips against the sensitive spot beneath her ear all the same. She made a noise half way between a gasp and a moan, so he ran his tongue over the skin, then breathed on it softly, making her shiver.
He began to lower his kisses, and soft bites, to the top of her right breast. She continued her shaking, in anticipation now, as his lips brushed over her skin until they reached her nipple. He shot a glance up at her, wanting some sort of approval, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were half closed, her head tilted back slightly, and her mouth open. Stiles shrugged to himself, that seemed like the best sign of confirmation to him, so he softly took her nipple into his mouth and flicked his tongue over it. She arched her back again and moaned, so he did it again. Over and over and each time her breathing caught and her heart thumped a little louder.
His right hand cupped her left breast, and he pinched that nipple between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it slightly, gently.
Her legs wrapped around his waist and pulled him down so his body pressed against hers, her bare feet rubbing up and down his legs as she rocked her hips, grinding herself against him.
"Calm down, gorgeous." He laughed, "let me take my time. I've been waiting so long for this." She couldn't respond, because the breath his speech caused had hit the now-damp skin of her nipple, and it felt so good she lost all ability to form a comprehensive thought, let alone a sentence.