#bibliophile246

As he took another sip of his drink, he shot a glance at his watch. One hour and fifty-five minutes remained. Bring it on.

***

“That was the longest two hours of my life.”

Derek snorted as Stiles dropped his head against the Camaro’s steering wheel. “You’re the one who said we should stay until 10:00. I was just doing what you told me to.”

His breath caught as Stiles reached over to squeeze his knee. “Yes, you were. And you did great, babe.”

Now that they were alone, Derek allowed himself to enjoy the full weight of Stiles’ words. “Thank you,” he said softly, placing his hand over his husband’s. Stiles smiled and continued rubbing small circles over Derek’s kneecap.

“Besides, staying later means I get to gossip with Laura about her least favorite board members.”

“Mom was doing the same thing. I think it’s genetic,” Derek replied with a sigh, settling back into the passenger seat.

As Stiles drove them home, a companionable silence descended over the car. These quiet moments together were one of Derek’s favorite, unexpected things about their relationship. For as talkative as Stiles was, he was almost preternaturally aware of Derek’s moods and the time he needed to recover his energy after social engagements.

By the time Stiles parked outside their home, though, Derek’s excitement had picked up once again. He had been good for Stiles, and he knew he’d be rewarded perfectly for it.

After they both stepped inside, Stiles locked the door and turned to Derek. He gently cupped one hand around the back of Derek’s neck and gestured toward the bedroom. “Why don’t you go get ready? I’ll be right behind you in a few minutes.”

Though it sounded like a question, Derek knew it wasn’t a request. It was a command — one he had been waiting all evening to obey.

***

Of course, he knew Stiles wouldn’t indulge him immediately. He loved to tease, but he also knew that making Derek wait gave him time to clear his mind and fill it entirely with anticipation.

Derek disrobed methodically, making sure he sorted his laundry and returned his tie to its proper location, which he knew would please Stiles. He hadn’t specified a posture, so Derek was free to choose how he wanted to wait this time. After a moment of consideration, he opted to sit cross-legged on the floor facing the end of the bed, back straight, as he usually did when he felt too tired to kneel. Then, he prepared to wait.

He often lost track of time like this, skin tingling expectantly, thoughts floating through the day and looping back to Stiles — where they always began and ended.

It wasn’t until Derek had met Stiles (and, more specifically, they started this ) that he realized how much stress he was accustomed to shouldering. He enjoyed his work, but starting a serious relationship forced him to acknowledge how much of it he let spill over into what was supposed to be his personal life.

When Stiles first broached the idea of introducing domination and submission into their sex life, Derek was intrigued by the prospect of surrendering control to someone he trusted so deeply. Stiles cared for him in every aspect of their partnership, and their five years together made Derek feel freer than he ever had.

The creak of the bedroom door’s hinges pulled Derek from his reflection and back into the moment, where Stiles now stood next to him. Derek could see him in his peripheral vision, hands in his pockets, posture casual yet underscored by a quiet confidence that made Derek’s blood run hot. Though Stiles was completely clothed except for his jacket and shoes, sitting naked like this no longer made Derek feel exposed — under Stiles’ approving gaze, he simply felt adored.

Stiles moved to sit on the end of their bed and began rolling his shirtsleeves up past his elbows. After another beat of silence, he finally addressed Derek.

“Thank you for waiting so patiently for me, baby.”

“You’re welcome,” Derek responded dutifully.

“How are you feeling?” Stiles reached forward and lightly traced Derek’s cheek with the back of his hand. It took all of Derek’s willpower not to lean into his touch, but he knew that if he stayed still, Stiles would reward him.

“Good. A little tired. But excited,” Derek said, gaze fixed on his husband’s exposed forearms.

“Oh yeah? What are you excited about?” Stiles’ fingers moved to graze Derek’s collarbone, sending goosebumps down his chest and arms.

“Being rewarded for being good tonight.”

Stiles laughed fondly. “That’s what I thought. I’ll help you move onto the bed. I know you’re tired.” He steadied Derek as he stood up and guided him to the head of the bed, then scooted back and settled Derek against him between the vee of his legs. Draped chest-to-back like this, they felt impossibly close. Derek shivered as Stiles pressed a series of open-mouthed kisses against the back of his neck, his long and impossibly dexterous fingers absently skating over Derek’s nipples.

“You were great tonight, Derek,” Stiles murmured. “I love seeing you all dressed up and schmoozing with all the other big-name lawyers.”

Derek huffed out a small laugh. “Thank you. Thank you for going with me,” he said, distantly aware that his breath had settled into the same rhythm as Stiles’.

Stiles pressed another firm kiss into Derek’s skin. “Of course, baby. I had a good time. And I spent a lot of time thinking about this, too.” His hands began to wander further down Derek’s thighs, where he was already stirring with arousal.

Derek didn’t reply — it was all he could do to keep his breath steady, and Stiles hadn’t asked a direct question or given him a compliment. He was free to revel fully in the sensation of Stiles’ touch.

Stiles leaned his rested his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. “Was there anything in particular you’d like to do tonight? I want you to pick your reward. You deserve it. I have some ideas, too, so it’s okay if you’re not sure,” Stiles asked. He always sounded so calm when they did this — so thoughtful and in control, which never failed to put Derek at ease.

Derek appreciated his consideration, but he’d spent all night imagining what he wanted Stiles to do, at least to start. “Can we start with spanking, please?”

“Of course. Do you want the flogger, the paddle, or my hand?”

Derek paused for a moment before deciding. “Your hand, please.”

“Perfect. You can move now.”

Derek shifted and allowed Stiles to arrange him across his lap. “Comfortable?” he asked, smoothing a hand down Derek’s back.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Good. Let’s start with ten.”

“Because you made me stay at the gala until ten?” Derek turned toward Stiles, clearly struggling to maintain a straight face.

Stiles smirked. “You might get an extra one for that. And I want you to stay quiet this time, since you’re feeling sassy.”

“Okay,” Derek agreed, arching his back to display his ass. “I’m ready.” Staying silent would be a challenge, but the idea of successfully obeying Stiles’ command was intoxicating.

The first slap startled him, as it always did, no matter how many times he asked to be spanked. Stiles set an unhurried but consistent pace, and though Derek was initially hyper aware of every point of contact his skin had with Stiles’ clothing and the blanket beneath them, his thoughts soon melted into a single serene haze.

This was the feeling he’d been craving all night: the way his head felt like it was floating, but the physical sensation of being spanked sending sharp jolts of pleasure through his entire body. It was a state that sometimes felt paradoxical when he tried to explain it, but it made perfect sense when Stiles was touching him like this.

After the eleventh strike, Stiles ran his hands over Derek’s ass and allowed him to indulge in the pleasurable sting for a few more minutes. “Was that good, baby?” he asked eventually, carding his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“Very good. Thank you,” Derek said. He stifled a yawn as he stretched, flushing with pleasure as his now-hard length rubbed against Stiles’ thigh. Sometimes Stiles was stricter about Derek taking pleasure in such a way, but tonight, he knew he was focused on indulging Derek.

Stiles laughed as he helped Derek sit upright and gathered him into his arms. “Am I boring you, Derek?”

Derek glanced up at Stiles. “No. I promise. I’m just relaxed.”

Stiles hummed. “Good. I’m glad you’re relaxed. You were perfect for me — you stayed so still and quiet.”

Derek felt his entire body warm at Stiles’ praise. He always knew exactly when Derek needed affirmation, and he gave it generously.

“I’m a little tired, too,” Stiles continued. “How about we take care of this, then go to sleep?” Derek jumped as Stiles’s fingers skirted over his erection. He was certainly ready for release — but he wanted to bring Stiles with him.

“That sounds good,” Derek said. “Can I please touch you, too?” He plucked at Stiles’ unbuttoned collar, wordlessly imploring Stiles to take it off.

“If you insist,” Stiles teased. He gently shifted Derek and stood so he could discard his clothing and return to their bed, this time as exposed as Derek was.

“Much better,” Derek sighed, reaching for Stiles. As they caught each other in a deep, open-mouthed kiss, Stiles maneuvered himself so he was bracketed over Derek. Derek wrapped his arms around his husband, anchoring himself as Stiles reached down to take both of them in his hand.

Soon, Derek lost himself in the ebb and flow of their bodies, hands and tongues and backs moving in a tandem performance they’d spend half a decade perfecting. After a few more minutes, Derek heard the telltale hitch in Stiles’ breath and felt a bloom of warmth over his stomach as he came between them, with Derek’s climax following a few strokes behind.

Stiles slumped over Derek, nosing at his jaw as their breathing slowed. Before he let himself collapse into bed, he pressed a firm kiss to Derek’s forehead. “I’ll clean us up. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Derek nodded, closing his eyes and luxuriating in another full-body stretch. His day had been a marathon of contentious client meetings, terse emails, and frenzied gala preparation, but Stiles had pushed it all to the background. All that mattered was this feeling of satisfaction, both physical and emotional, that they had cultivated together.

Stiles quickly emerged from the bathroom and gently cleaned Derek’s skin with deft fingers before laying back down and guiding Derek’s head to his chest.

“Thanks,” Derek murmured, voice heavy with sleep. “That was worth staying until ten.”