She was his own personal Little Red Riding Hood, and she looked best covered in wet, glistening red, the fresher it was the better as far as he was concerned.
Peter hummed as he carefully painted Stiles with abstract symbols, dragging his fingers across her smooth body marking her gorgeous skin with the liquid crimson spreading in an ever widening pool around the cooling hunter.
Stiles twitched under his hands despite his quiet warnings for the girl to be still, and he didn’t have the heart to snap at her when one twitch ruined the intricate knot he was drawing on her thigh, not when he could smell the heady scent of arousal and see the beautiful red flush radiating across her cheeks and down her chest.
Smiling, he let his fingers drag trails of crimson up her leg, following that tantalizing scent to it’s source and delighting in the shuddering gasp he drew out of her as his fingers parted her folds, two slick fingers entering her easily and pulling loud pleas for more out of her.
Stiles stumbled forward, bracing herself on his shoulders as he worked his fingers inside of her, looking up to catch each shiver and moan that dripped from her red painted lips as he brought her off with nothing more than his own hand and the blood of their enemies.