cr: itsagirlthingbae via tumblr

The second you were in the room, your hands reached up to grab Stiles' collar. Impatiently, you pushed him back so he was pressed up against the sturdy wood. Your boyfriend let out a noise of surprise, clearly taken aback by such a quick change of tempo.

"Someone's eager, aren't they?" he said, a cocky smirk hanging from his pink lips. Breathlessly, you reached forwards and started working on his tie, fingers making light work of the loose knot.

"'S not my fault you've looked hot all evening," you responded, pulling the red tie over his head. You tossed it to the side, moaning softly when Stiles' fingers traced down your body, resting on your hips to give you a tight squeeze.

You leaned up to press a series of open-mouthed kisses along his neck, tracing haphazardly from a spot beneath his ear to his collarbone. As your fingers undid the buttons of his crisp shirt, you put effort into your movements, sucking harsh, crimson marks against his pale skin.

Stiles groaned, a hand snaking up your back to play with the zip of your dress. Your tongue padded over a newly-formed mark on his neck, licking in a way that had his head falling back, guttural groans ripping from his mouth.

Feeling the zip come undone, you stepped back to shrug off your dress. "Holy ***," Stiles cursed. You glanced up to see his eyes on you - or, more specifically - your body. "You know this set drives me crazy, angel."

You smirked in response, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. "That's why I put it on."

He was referring to your favourite set of navy lingerie - the one currently wrapped around your body. He'd bought it for you as a surprise present after being out of town for a few weeks, and you'd instantly fallen in love with the design. The bra, scarce in material, barely concealed anything, and the striking thong made your bum look amazing.

Taking advantage of the fact that you'd given him a little space, Stiles pushed his shirt off and tossed it on top of your discarded dress.

Your fingers were on his shoulders in an instant, curling around the warm skin as your mouth dipped down. You pressed your lips against one of his pecks, capturing a nipple between your teeth. Feeling brave, you sucked on it for a few moments, tongue slipping from your mouth to dance across the erect nub. You released it when you heard him gasp, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"I didn't take you to be a tit guy, Stiles," you teased.

"You learn a new thing every day," he answered, voice strained.

Before you could continue with the exploration of his chest, Stiles had his hands on your waist and was flipping you around. You ended up swapping places - your back pressed up against the door with him standing freely in front of you.

"Arms up," he ordered, voice stern. Complying easily you lifted your hands. A moment later, one of Stiles' hands was circling your wrists and pinning them up in place.

You watched - chest heaving - as he stood motionlessly, eyes scraping across your chest. He seemed lost in thought - undecided on his plan of action. Growing impatient, you whined. Through lustful eyes, Stiles glanced up to shoot you a wink, the action sparking a fire in your lower stomach.

Suddenly his mouth was on yours, the both of them crashing together in a messy collision of lips and teeth. You moaned, going to weave your fingers in his hair and then pouting when you felt them being held in place. Stiles laughed against your lips, the vibrations causing a smile to curl against the corners of your lips.

Throwing yourself into the kiss, you pressed back against his mouth needily and groaned when you felt his tongue slide across your bottom lip. Parting your lips, you allowed him access, a throb of heat shooting to your core when his tongue slipped inside your mouth.

He emitted the stale taste of champagne, your mind tingling with a drowsy edge as you reminisced on the evening. You'd both grown a little tipsy from the drinks at the restaurant. You'd reckoned - seeing as Scott was paying - it wouldn't do either of you any harm to indulge in a few glasses. Neither of you had bargained on the strength of the alcohol being quite this strong.

"Let me touch," you mumbled, words difficult to understand due to his presence in your mouth. To prove your point, you tried resisting his grip, only to have Stiles tutting.

"Nope," he popped the 'p' sound, lips forming a perfect circle, "I'm in charge now. If you don't behave, I'll have to tie you up."

Stiles' attention shifted away from your face, his eyes fixing on the curves of your breasts. His free hand skated around the side of your body, slipping up to fiddle with the clasp of your bra. Every inch of skin he touched erupted in a series of goosebumps, his touch holding some kind of power over you.

You felt your bra fall loose a second later, your eyebrows rising. "Well done," you teased. Stiles stuck out his tongue in response, grumbling something beneath his breath as he pulled off the lace and tossed it aside. He hadn't always been so smooth when clasps were involved.

Keeping hold of your wrists, Stiles used a free hand to knead the sensitive skin of your right breast. The feeling of his fingertips skating over the tip of your nipple had you tossing your head to the side, a deep whine leaving your parted lips. As he began to alternate between massaging your boob and tweaking your tit, he dipped his head.

You felt your core throb with a building heat as his mouth enveloped your ignored nipple, the warm wetness taking you to another level. A stream of incomprehensible curses fell from your lips as he suckled on the erect nub, your skin feeling as though it was on fire.

"St-Stiles!" you exclaimed, finally succeeding in freeing your hands. Now able to get what you wanted, your fingers found his head. You felt him tense when your digits curled around his hair, strands feeling silky between your fingertips.

"What did I tell you about keeping your arms up?" he growled.

Sheepishly, you shrugged. "'M sorry, I just couldn't keep my hands off." To prove your point, you used your grip on his hair to pull his face high - enough so that it was easy for you to collide your lips against his.

The kiss lasted about five seconds, Stiles' reactions - although slightly cloudy from the alcohol - kicking in when you moaned into his mouth.

"Get on the bed," he said, dropping all contact with your body. Pouting slightly, you quickly obeyed. You walked across the room, laying down on the mattress and making yourself comfortable.

Watching him intently, you found yourself biting your bottom lip when he picked up his previously-discarded tie. Stiles turned it over in his fingers, a cocky smirk embedding itself over his lips when he glanced back up at you.

Wordlessly, he rested a knee beside your head. Hands captured your wrists and you gave no resistance, knowing better than to mess with him. You felt the smooth material of his tie slide over your arms as he fed it first through the metal bars of your bed then around your hands.

Satisfied with his work, Stiles tilted his head downwards. His lips pressed against a patch of skin just below your neck, sucking a harsh lovebite against your tingling jugular. A second later, his teeth captured your earlobe, tugging. You whimpered, the heat between your legs increasing by tenfold.

"Bad girls don't get to touch," Stiles whispered, pulling back.

With a stormy expression on his face, he stepped from the bed and his hands went to fiddle with the belt of his trousers. You watched, yearning to be the one pulling them down.

Deciding to check the strength of the bindings, you tried to pull your hands down. They didn't budge, the tie secured tightly enough so as to ensure the only way you'd be getting out of there was if Stiles decided to let you go. He smirked when you let out a frustrated groan, clearly pleased at his handiwork.

Your attention snapped back to your boyfriend when he kicked his trousers aside, fingers hooking beneath his boxers. Through the thin material, you could make out the clear outline of his ***. You bit your bottom lip when you noticed a patch of darkness on the fabric, a result of his leaking precum.

"I can hear you whimpering, angel," he spoke, voice quiet, "hear you aching for me."

Your eyes widened when he finally pulled down his boxers, *** slapping up to rest against his stomach. In the dim light of the room, you could just about make out the glistening tip.

Stiles stood completely still, body facing you in a way that allowed you to observe his movements with absolute clarity. His fingers wrapped around the top of his ***, face contracting into a perfect portrayal of pleasure as he began to pump, hand sliding the entire length of his leaking member. You watched, jaw slack, as he used the beads of precum to act as a make-do lubricant, helping to make the movements seem seamless.

Soon you began to hear him groaning, the beautifully fragile sound spreading across every inch of the room. You tugged uselessly against the tie, feeling yourself growing more frustrated with every passing second.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" Stiles cooed, a slight harshness to his words as he flicked a thumb across the head of his length.

Licking your lips, you traced your gaze across his naked body. "Your ***, Stiles," you pleaded, eyes wide with need.

Stiles hummed, seeming to ponder this for a moment. As he thought - eyebrows knit together in deep concentration - he continued to pump himself, an occasional moan falling from his mouth. "I think I want a little taste first, angel. Is that okay?" He was already moving down the bed, hands falling against your thighs.

"Yeah," you said, voice shaking under the weight of anticipation.

Quickly, Stiles hooked his fingers beneath the waistband of your thong. You raised your hips, allowing him to tug the thin material down your legs with ease. As soon as it was clear of your feet, he tossed it aside without a second look.

His hands slide up your legs as he positioned himself, face nestled between your thighs. You squirmed, aching for touch, as his warm breath fell across your newly-exposed core.

Two fingers spread apart your lips, a third going to press a long swipe from the entrance of your weeping pussy to the sensitive rise of your clit. "Holy ***," he said, smirking, "you're absolutely soaked."

The finger resting on your clit gave it a few rubs before disappearing, being replaced by the warm mass of his tongue. You cried out, arms straining against the tie as a slow warmth spread across your core.

Stiles pressed his soft lips against your nub and kissed softly, a throb of pleasure causing you to quiver. He began to alternate between placing small, gentle kisses and capturing your sensitive nub between his teeth, suckling slowly. As the minutes blurred, your chest began to rise and fall at a pace faster than you'd ever experienced.

A little while later, Stiles surprised you by flicking the pointed tip of his tongue across your clit harshly. Feeling this, your entire body jerked up, teeth biting against the pillow as you attempted to stifle a whine.

His finger reappeared, sneaking between your legs to poke at your entrance. So distracted by his wonderful tongue, it took you a moment to realise the digit had slid into your pussy - the wetness of your arousal making the process entirely painless.

"Stiles!" you cried out, catching your breath when a second finger joined the first. Glancing up, Stiles shot you a wink, his amber eyes full of mischief.

"You taste fuckin' incredible, honey," he said, chin glistening.

Then he was back at it again, tongue lapping up your wetness. Your orgasm began to build, warm twists in the pit of your stomach gradually growing larger.

He scissored his fingers, your back arching off the bed when the tips of his fingers curved upwards to brush against your g-spot. Slowly - but thoroughly - he opened you up, preparing you for the wide girth of his ***.

"I think I'm ready to feel your pussy. Is that alright?" You whined when he pulled back, the absence of his mouth and fingers causing an empty feeling to throb across your lower body.

"Yes- ***, please," you found yourself begging. Stiles laughed a wonderful throaty sound.

"As you please, princess."

Stiles stood back off the bed, one hand going to give himself a few pumps whilst the other rummaged through a drawer, pulling out a condom a second later. He rolled the plastic over his erect length, your lower lip brought to rest between your teeth.

"Could you untie me?" you asked sweetly, fluttering your lashes. Stiles chuckled, shaking his head.

"Bad girls don't get to touch," he reiterated, sliding over you. Stiles supported the weight of his body by placing an arm by your head, his free hand moving down to align himself with your entrance. "You alright?" he checked, concern written in his eyes. You nodded your head, growing impatient.

"Get on with it," you murmured, squirming at the feeling of his head throbbing against your core.

Stiles quirked an eyebrow, taking this as an invitation to unleash everything. In one, sensational movement, he pushed his entire length into you. You moaned, straining against the tie that held your hands in place as you fought the urge to reach down and trace your hands along his back.

After giving you a few seconds to adjust, Stiles was propelling his hips down, snapping his long member deep inside you with a few powerful thrusts. He quickly settled into a rhythm, head of his *** seeming to reach deeper with every push.

Through half-lidded eyes, you watched his face carefully. A few strands of hair cast across his face, falling out of the carefully-styled quiff he'd spend minutes crafting earlier in the evening. His bushy eyebrows were pinched together, combining with the lines that cut across his pale forehead to give him an expression of pure exertion.

His eyes flickered upwards, a small smile spreading across his lips when he noticed you staring.

The loving, tender moment passed when Stiles curled a finger against your clit, rubbing desperate circles to the raised nub. Your eyes fell closed, mouth falling open as your orgasm began to build at an accelerated pace.

Stiles' laborious breathing increased when you clenched your walls around him, both of you hurtling closely towards the edge.

"Feels incredible to be buried inside you, angel." The words fell from his lips with ease, tone full of pent up frustration. "Are you ready to cum?"

You hummed in response, too distracted by your impending high to concentrate on forming a coherent sentence.

"Words, sweetheart," Stiles pushed, lifting a finger to tap against your lips. You rolled your eyes, unsurprised by his antics.

"Yes, Stiles. I'm s'close," you informed, voice catching when a particularly powerful thrust had the head of his *** rubbing against your g-spot.

"You gonna cum for me? Let me feel that tight pussy squeezing around me?" It was his words - filthy in both their meaning and deliverance - that sent you spiralling over the edge.

Your eyes rolled back as you came, walls clenching around his length as Stiles continued to carry his quick rhythm. Blood pounded through your ears as tingles spread across your lower body, the patterns being tapped over your clit prolonging the high.

Stiles cursed beneath his breath and he began to shake, a falter in his pattern showing he'd toppled across the edge as well. The image of him - teeth clenched, jaw firm, beads of sweat prickling his forehead - was enough to make you squirm, your body shaking from the intensity of the climax.

Lost in pleasure, you jerked your arms and felt the tie loosen, an almighty ripping sound filling the air. It was drowned out, however, by the mix of yours and Stiles' groans that permeated your every sense.

Stiles continued to push through your high, not stopping until you signalled the end with a shake of your head. Trembling, he pulled himself from you and rolled over to collapse on the mattress beside you, chest heaving.

After gathering together your thoughts, you pulled your hands down. You glanced at the ripped tie and let out a breathy laugh, nudging his sweaty side. "Stiles, look."

He tilted his head to the side, laughter melting into yours. The red tie looked as though it'd been dragged through a hedge. It was frayed, a large tear ruining the expensive material.

"I'm sorry," you said, still giggling. Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing the tie and tossing it across the room.

"Don't be, I never liked it anyway," he admitted, pressing a few light kisses to your forehead.

You curled up against his side, laying your head on his warm chest as a fatigue slowly spread through your body. "This was an amazing end to the evening. Thank you."

A hand went to rest on your side, rubbing small comforting circles to your skin. "It was my pleasure, angel."

You started to drift off, vaguely aware of a blanket being draped across your shivering body. Feeling safe and content, you fell asleep on your boyfriend's chest, his comforting whispers filling your head.

Despite the ripped tie, the evening had definitely been a success.