[She sounded like she actually meant it. Like she wasn't in pain, wasn't just pretending so he wouldn't panic. She was moving and there was this way she breathed that had his stomach tightening, his eyes closing for a minute as he had to fight down that sudden rush of arousal.
But he got it under control. Mostly. He was looking up at her now, hands on her back, keeping her pressed in close to him as he started to try to rock back, to match what she was doing (though it really was just them sort of grinding on each other with him inside her). His eyes were taking in her face, looking at her with that sort of awestruck look because here he was. Stiles Stilinski. Having real actual not-fake sex with a girl. The world had officially ended.
He was kissing her again, trying to cover up how stupid he felt that he couldn't come up with anything to say, couldn't do more than breathe (barely) and just feel the waves of pleasure building up in him.]
no subject
But he got it under control. Mostly. He was looking up at her now, hands on her back, keeping her pressed in close to him as he started to try to rock back, to match what she was doing (though it really was just them sort of grinding on each other with him inside her). His eyes were taking in her face, looking at her with that sort of awestruck look because here he was. Stiles Stilinski. Having real actual not-fake sex with a girl. The world had officially ended.
He was kissing her again, trying to cover up how stupid he felt that he couldn't come up with anything to say, couldn't do more than breathe (barely) and just feel the waves of pleasure building up in him.]