Dara kept one of her hands pressed firmly against his tailbone, keeping him close and rocking her hips reflexively to try and find friction as he moved against her. The lack of anything for her to grind against elicited a whimper into Stiles' mouth.

When she felt his hand move lower, Dara moaned again with abandon. There was no one here to hear it except the one she was trying to goad with the sound. "Stiles, please touch me. I need it. I need you, I want you," she whined breathlessly.