"Good--fuck--" Stiles groaned, his breath coming out in harsh pants as Isaac squeezed around him. He could already feel his body getting close, that warm heat pooling at his core, that tell-tale tightening in his muscles. He wanted to drag his lover over, first. Pumping his hand in time with his thrusts, Stiles tried to hit that spot in Isaac each time, his free hand holding the werewolf in place, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises that would never stay. "Come on, baby--come for me..."