#session border controller

[iamjackmorris]

Top 7 Reasons to Implement Enterprise SBC Solutions for Secure VoIP

In the current digital-first era, companies highly depend on VoIP (Voice over IP) for affordable and adaptable communication. But with such convenience comes a list of problems — security weaknesses, interoperability problems, and bad call quality, to name a few. That is where Enterprise Session Border Controller (SBC) solutions enter the scene.

Regardless of whether you’re operating a big call center, supporting remote teams, or merely scaling your VoIP infrastructure, adopting a robust SBC VoIP solution is of utmost importance. Let’s dig into the top 7 reasons why all cutting-edge businesses must look to Enterprise SBC solutions for an added layer of security, greater efficiency, and redundancy in the communications system.

1. End-to-End VoIP Security

SBCs serve as gatekeepers between your internal VoIP network and outside communication systems. They offer strong SBC security, preventing unauthorized access, real-time threat detection, and voice traffic encryption. Such protection is particularly crucial for industries dealing with sensitive customer information.

2. Seamless Interoperability Across Networks

Various carriers and VoIP solutions employ various protocols. SBCs normalize and translate SIP signaling among incompatible devices to allow seamless communication between heterogeneous vendors. This is a requirement for companies that need to function in multi-vendor environments.

3. Quality of Service (QoS) Management

Nothing annoys users more than call drops and poor sound. SBCs track real-time traffic and give precedence to voice packets over other data streams to provide crystal-clear call quality. They can also divert traffic during congestion, enhancing reliability.

4. Centralized Call Routing & Load Balancing

An SBC can be intelligent enough to route and control VoIP traffic according to different rules — call priority, time of day, or bandwidth. With custom SBC solutions implemented, your company enjoys scalability and flexibility while traffic increases.

5. Regulatory Compliance Made Easy

With encryption, logging, and lawful intercept capabilities, SBCs ensure telecom regulatory compliance like HIPAA, GDPR, and CCPA. These are particularly valuable for healthcare, finance, and enterprise markets.

6. Support for Remote Work and BYOD Environments

Today’s workforces are on the move. SBCs provide a simple way to interconnect remote users, device-independent and location-independent, securely. They also support VoIP clients on mobile phones, tablets, and laptops to communicate securely without jeopardizing corporate network integrity.

7. Future-Ready Architecture

With the advent of AI-driven communication tools, video conferencing, and UCaaS platforms, SBCs provide future-proof infrastructure. They integrate flawlessly with your cloud apps and enable WebRTC, SIPREC, and other cutting-edge VoIP features.

Final Thoughts

Implementing an Enterprise SBC solution is no longer a nicety���it’s a necessity for organizations looking to provide secure, high-quality VoIP communication at scale. The advantages are apparent, from optimizing SBC VoIP performance to reducing risk.

👉 Why Your Enterprise Needs an SBC for VoIP Security

Ready to Upgrade Your VoIP Infrastructure?

Whether you’re building from the ground up or expanding existing systems, our seasoned developers can assist.

Hire VoIP Developer provides secure, customized SBC solutions that align with your operational objectives.

🚀Let’s protect and grow your VoIP setup together!

[dinstarblog]

SBC | Session Border Controller

Session Border Controllers are intended to provide VoIP networks for businesses and service providers with security, interoperability, and transcoding. Your current firewall is only capable of safeguarding your data network; in order to improve VoIP security when you switch to VoIP systems, you must have SBCs.SBCs also facilitate high-quality SIP communication by streamlining interoperability and connecting various businesses with VoIP networks from service providers. Dinstar SBCs offer broad functionality, scalability flexibility

[cloudinfotech-01]

Session Border Controller | Cloud Infotech

Session Border Controllers by Dinstar are made to give VoIP networks used by companies and service providers with security, interoperability and transcoding capabilities. SBC are required if you are switching to VoIP systems in order to improve VoIP security as your current firewall is only capable of safeguarding your data network. SBC facilitate high-quality SIP communication by connecting VoIP networks from various service providers and businesses and streamlining interoperability.

[market-research-reports-fmi]

 The Session Border Controller (SBC) market refers to the market for devices or software solutions that are used to secure and manage communication sessions in Voice over IP (VoIP) networks. Session border controller play a crucial role in ensuring the security, interoperability, and quality of real-time communication sessions, such as voice calls and video conferences, over IP networks.

The global Session Border Controller market is anticipated to be valued US$ 709 million in 2022, increasing at a 5.4% CAGR to US$ 1200 million by 2032. Shifting enterprise preferences away from public switched telephone network (PSTN) lines and towards IP telephony or voice over internet protocol (VoIP)-based private branch exchange are among the significant factors expected to create numerous opportunities for market growth during the forecast period.

Future Market Insights has recently published a market research report on Global Session Border Controller (SBC) market. The study presents a detailed analysis on the historical data, current and future market scenario for the Session Border Controller (SBC) market.

[sanvi963]

Securing Enterprise Communications: The Critical Role of Session Border Controllers

Session Border Controllers (SBCs) have become indispensable components in modern enterprise communications infrastructure. As businesses increasingly rely on Voice over IP (VoIP) and unified communications, SBCs serve as the gatekeepers that ensure these systems operate securely and efficiently. This comprehensive guide explores what SBCs are, their key functions, benefits, implementation considerations, and future trends.

What Is a Session Border Controller?

A Session Border Controller is a dedicated network device deployed at the border between two networks to control and manage real-time communications sessions. Originally developed to address security concerns in VoIP deployments, SBCs have evolved to become multifunctional devices that handle everything from security to quality of service management.

SBCs primarily work with Session Initiation Protocol (SIP), the dominant protocol for establishing, modifying, and terminating multimedia communication sessions. By sitting at the edge of networks, SBCs can monitor and control the signaling and media streams of these sessions.

Core Functions of Session Border Controllers

Security Enhancement

SBCs serve as the first line of defense against various threats to communication networks:

Denial of Service (DoS) Protection: SBCs identify and block suspicious traffic patterns that could indicate DoS attacks.

Topology Hiding: They mask internal network information, preventing potential attackers from mapping the network architecture.

Access Control: SBCs enforce policies about which users and devices can access network resources.

Encryption: Many SBCs provide TLS (Transport Layer Security) for signaling and SRTP (Secure Real-time Transport Protocol) for media streams.

Interoperability and Protocol Mediation

Enterprise environments often contain communication systems from different vendors using various protocols. SBCs facilitate seamless interaction between these disparate systems by:

Translating between different SIP implementations

Converting between various media codecs

Adapting signaling protocols when necessary

Ensuring compatibility between legacy and modern systems

Network Address Translation (NAT) Traversal

One of the primary challenges in VoIP communications is navigating through Network Address Translation (NAT) devices. SBCs resolve this by:

Maintaining the signaling and media relationship

Acting as an anchor point for media streams

Implementing techniques like ICE, STUN, and TURN to facilitate NAT traversal

Ensuring call quality isn't degraded by NAT-related issues

Quality of Service Management

SBCs play a crucial role in maintaining call quality by:

Prioritizing voice and video traffic over less time-sensitive data

Monitoring network conditions and adjusting parameters accordingly

Providing detailed analytics on call quality metrics

Implementing traffic shaping to optimize bandwidth usage

Regulatory Compliance

For many industries, communications compliance is non-negotiable. SBCs help with:

Call recording capabilities for sectors requiring record-keeping

Emergency services support, ensuring 911/E911 calls are properly routed

Lawful intercept capabilities when legally required

Data retention in accordance with industry regulations

Business Benefits of Implementing SBCs

Enhanced Security Posture

The security functions of SBCs directly translate to better protection for business communications. With properly configured SBCs, enterprises can significantly reduce the risk of toll fraud, eavesdropping, and service disruptions due to attacks.

Cost Optimization

SBCs enable businesses to consolidate communication channels and leverage cost-effective SIP trunking services. This typically results in reduced operational expenses compared to traditional telephony systems.

Improved Reliability and Call Quality

By actively managing quality of service parameters and providing failover mechanisms, SBCs help ensure that business communications remain clear and uninterrupted, even during network congestion or partial outages.

Simplified Management

Modern SBCs offer centralized management interfaces that simplify the administration of communication policies across the enterprise. This reduces the operational overhead associated with maintaining complex communication systems.

Future-Proofing Communications Infrastructure

As a mediator between different systems, SBCs allow businesses to gradually transition between technologies without wholesale replacements of existing infrastructure, protecting investments while enabling innovation.

SBC Deployment Models

On-Premises SBCs

Traditional hardware-based SBCs installed within an organization's physical infrastructure offer:

Maximum control over the device and its configuration

Potentially lower latency for time-sensitive communications

Compliance with requirements that mandate on-site data processing

Typically higher upfront costs but potentially lower long-term expenses

Virtualized SBCs

Software-based SBCs deployed on virtual machines provide:

Greater flexibility in scaling resources based on demand

Reduced hardware footprint in the data center

Integration with existing virtualization infrastructure

Often easier upgrades and maintenance procedures

Cloud-Based SBCs

SBC-as-a-Service offerings in the cloud deliver:

Reduced capital expenditure through subscription-based pricing

Rapid deployment capabilities without hardware procurement

Built-in geographic redundancy and disaster recovery

Seamless scaling to accommodate growth or seasonal demands

Key Considerations When Selecting an SBC

Scalability Requirements

Organizations should assess both current and projected communication volumes to select an SBC solution that can scale appropriately without requiring frequent replacements.

Vendor Ecosystem Compatibility

The chosen SBC must work effectively with existing PBXs, unified communications platforms, and service provider networks. Compatibility testing before full deployment is essential.

Performance Metrics

Key performance indicators to evaluate include:

Maximum concurrent sessions supported

Calls per second processing capability

Media transcoding capacity

Latency introduced by the SBC

Management Interface and Reporting Capabilities

Comprehensive dashboards, intuitive configuration tools, and detailed analytics capabilities can significantly reduce operational overhead and improve troubleshooting efficiency.

Redundancy and High Availability Features

For business-critical communications, redundant SBC deployments with automatic failover mechanisms are essential to prevent service disruptions.

Implementation Best Practices

Thorough Pre-Deployment Planning

A successful SBC implementation starts with comprehensive planning that includes:

Detailed network topology documentation

Clear security policy definitions

Bandwidth requirement calculations

Interoperability testing with existing systems

Staged Rollout Approach

Rather than switching all communications through the SBC at once, a phased implementation allows for:

Identifying and resolving issues with minimal impact

Gradually training support staff on the new infrastructure

Refining configurations based on real-world performance

Building user confidence in the system

Regular Security Audits

Once deployed, SBCs should be subject to:

Periodic security assessments and penetration testing

Regular firmware and software updates

Configuration reviews to ensure alignment with evolving security policies

Analysis of attack attempts to refine defensive measures

Ongoing Performance Monitoring

Continuous monitoring of SBC performance helps identify:

Emerging capacity constraints before they impact users

Quality issues that might indicate network problems

Unusual patterns that could signal security incidents

Opportunities for optimization and improvement

Emerging Trends in SBC Technology

Integration with AI and Machine Learning

Next-generation SBCs are beginning to leverage AI for:

Predictive analytics to forecast capacity needs

Anomaly detection for enhanced security

Automated optimization of quality parameters

Intelligent routing based on network conditions

WebRTC Support

As browser-based real-time communications continue to grow, SBCs are evolving to provide:

Native WebRTC support without plugins

Security models appropriate for web-originated sessions

Interoperability between WebRTC and traditional SIP environments

Management of the unique challenges posed by browser-based communications

5G Readiness

With the rollout of 5G networks, SBCs are adapting to:

Higher bandwidth capabilities

Lower latency expectations

New deployment models at network edges

Integration with network slicing technologies

Zero Trust Security Models

Modern SBCs are increasingly adopting zero trust principles:

Verifying every session regardless of origin

Implementing least-privilege access controls

Continuous session validation rather than one-time authentication

Micro-segmentation of communication flows

Conclusion

Session Border Controllers have evolved from simple security devices to sophisticated communication management platforms that provide essential functionality for modern enterprise networks. As businesses continue their digital transformation journeys and communications become increasingly diverse and cloud-based, the role of SBCs will only grow in importance.

Organizations that understand and properly implement SBC technology gain significant advantages in security, efficiency, and communication quality. With careful consideration of deployment models, selection criteria, and implementation practices, businesses can leverage SBCs to create robust, secure, and flexible communication infrastructures ready for future challenges and opportunities.

[david843346]

Virtual Session Controller Border Market: Global Demand Analysis & Opportunity Outlook 2036

Research Nester has released a report titled “Virtual Session Controller Border Market: Global Demand Analysis & Opportunity Outlook 2036” which also includes some of the prominent market analyzing parameters such as industry growth drivers, restraints, supply and demand risk, along with the impact of COVID-19 and a detailed discussion on the latest trends and future opportunities that are associated with the growth of the market.  

Request Report Sample@  

Surging Growth in the Use of Cloud Communication Sector to Boost the Growth of Global Virtual Session Controller Border Market

The global virtual session controller border market is set to rise on account of the growing integration of cloud technology. Digital technologies have been adopted by companies that previously relied on landlines and face-to-face meetings to increase their efficiency in reaching a wider audience. : One of their many miracles is that virtual SBCs are capable of rapidly and automatically deploying. By eliminating the tedious configuration of SBCs and extensive manual installation, they provide an innovative model for the deployment of communication frameworks that is flexible and efficient.

By type, the sector for virtual session controller border is segmented into hybrid, enterprises, and session SBC. Amongst these segments, the enterprise's SBC segment is predicted to capture the largest market revenue of USD 0,66 billion by the end of 2036. Enterprise SBCs are a border element on the premises, managing NAT and firewall traversal in cooperation with each other In case of need, various VoIP protocols will be used to protect the enterprise's network against cyber-attacks through a service provider's network.

By region, the Asia Pacific region is set to grow at a notable CAGR of 9.24% over the coming years. Because it is implemented in software, the SBC can be placed on a similar Virtual Server Farm that hosts media streaming services with ease. The SBC is currently available as software for installation on cloud-based topologies and in virtualized servers. This reflects a growing reliance of the region on virtual satellite communications.

Access our detailed report at@

Research Nester is a leading service provider for strategic market research and consulting. We aim to provide unbiased, unparalleled market insights and industry analysis to help industries, conglomerates and executives to take wise decisions for their future marketing strategy, expansion and investment etc. We believe every business can expand to its new horizon, provided a right guidance at a right time is available through strategic minds. Our out of box thinking helps our clients to take wise decision in order to avoid future uncertainties. 

Contact for more Info: 

AJ Daniel 

Email: info@researchnester.com 

U.S. Phone: +1 646 586 9123  

U.K. Phone: +44 203 608 5919 

[ladybugmania]

BE AWARE: HISTORY IS REPEATING ITSELF

Trump & Hitler Compared

Comparison 1: Nationalism and Scapegoating Minorities

Hitler (1930s Germany):

Hitler’s rhetoric emphasized an ethnically pure German identity and national rebirth, exploiting economic despair and cultural anxiety following WWI. He blamed Jews, communists, and other minority groups for Germany’s defeat and economic troubles. The Nuremberg Laws institutionalized racial discrimination, stripping Jews of their rights as citizens.

Trump and the GOP (2015–Present):

Trump has repeatedly used xenophobic and racially charged language, calling Mexican immigrants “rapists” and proposing a “total and complete shutdown” of Muslims entering the U.S. His administration instituted the Muslim ban, attempted to eliminate DACA, and enacted family separation at the border. Republican-backed state laws increasingly target immigrants and minority voters, using the guise of security or voter integrity, echoing exclusionary policies of the past.

Comparison 2: Undermining Democratic Institutions

Hitler:

After becoming Chancellor, Hitler manipulated the Reichstag Fire in 1933 to invoke emergency powers. The Enabling Act gave him the authority to legislate without parliamentary consent, effectively dismantling democracy. He repeatedly painted political opponents as traitors or enemies of the state.

Trump and the GOP:

After losing the 2020 election, Trump refused to concede, launched dozens of baseless legal challenges, and incited the January 6 insurrection—an unprecedented attack on the peaceful transfer of power. He and his allies have labeled political opponents as “deep state,” “communists,” or “enemies,” aiming to delegitimize dissent and create a hostile political climate. Many GOP figures continue to downplay or deny the events of January 6, paralleling historical patterns of rewriting or ignoring threats to democracy.

Comparison 3: Control of Media and Disinformation

Hitler:

Joseph Goebbels led the Nazi Ministry of Propaganda, controlling all media, art, and public messaging. The regime spread disinformation, suppressed dissenting voices, and crafted a narrative that glorified the regime while demonizing its enemies.

Trump and the GOP:

Trump labeled mainstream media “the enemy of the people,” a term used by authoritarian regimes to delegitimize journalism. He and GOP-aligned media outlets like Fox News, Newsmax, and OANN have been pivotal in spreading conspiracy theories (e.g., QAnon, election fraud), while vilifying fact-based reporting. This creates an alternate reality for supporters and undermines trust in factual information, similar to propaganda methods used by authoritarian regimes.

Comparison 4: Cult of Personality and Loyalty Above Law

Hitler:

The Nazi regime revolved around the Führerprinzip—absolute loyalty to Hitler. Personal loyalty to him was expected above all else, including law, ethics, or reason. Independent institutions were absorbed or dismantled.

Trump:

Trump demands personal loyalty from public officials, often attacking or firing those who disagree with him (e.g., FBI Director James Comey, former Attorney General Jeff Sessions, or military leaders). Loyalty to Trump—not the Constitution or democratic norms—has become a defining feature of many in the GOP. Those who criticized his actions, including former allies, are frequently branded as traitors or RINOs (“Republicans In Name Only”).

Comparison 5: Militarization of Patriotism and Law Enforcement

Hitler:

The SA (Sturmabteilung) and later the SS were paramilitary forces used to intimidate opposition, enforce Nazi ideology, and maintain “order.” Hitler used them to blur the line between state power and partisan violence.

Trump and the GOP:

During the 2020 Black Lives Matter protests, Trump deployed federal agents (often unmarked) to suppress demonstrations, particularly in Portland, Oregon. He encouraged violent responses to protesters, infamously saying, “When the looting starts, the shooting starts.” Some extremist groups like the Proud Boys, Oath Keepers, and others that support Trump have acted as quasi-paramilitary forces—prominent among those who stormed the Capitol.

Conclusion:

While the U.S. remains a functioning democracy, the parallels between Hitler’s authoritarian rise and the tactics employed by Donald Trump and elements of the Republican Party are real and well-documented. They include:

Scapegoating and demonizing minorities

Discrediting democratic institutions

Spreading propaganda and disinformation

Fostering a cult of personality

Encouraging or ignoring political violence

These tactics, if unchecked, threaten the foundations of democratic society—just as they did in 1930s Germany. As history shows, democracies often crumble not from external attack, but from internal erosion.

Be Aware: History will repeat. This has happened in the past and it can happen again.

[skzophreniic]

⍣ ೋ cw: vigin!felix. dry humping. hand job. blow job. overstimulation. mdni.

felix knows how to kiss you. he’s done it enough times—long, lazy sessions pressed up against you, hands wandering, lips slick and hungry. he knows how to tilt his head just right, how to nip at your bottom lip until you sigh against his mouth, how to suck your tongue into his own until you’re the one chasing him.

but this—this is new.

you’re straddling him, thighs bracketing his, fingers curled in the hair at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. his hands rest on your waist, trembling just slightly, thumbs rubbing circles into your skin like he’s trying to ground himself.

he’s burning. every inch of him, inside and out, is consumed by a heat so unbearable it has him trembling beneath you, breathless and desperate, hips chasing yours with an urgency that’s bordering on pathetic. he knows it, too—knows how fucking needy he looks, how embarrassing it is that he’s already soaked through his sweats, how wrecked he sounds when his moans break, high and breathless.

but he can’t stop. he doesn’t want to.

you’ve barely even touched him, and he’s already falling apart. his cock is rock-hard, leaking so much that his sweats cling to him, soaked through in a mess of precum that’s only getting worse each time you drag your hips against him. the friction is unreal—too much and not enough all at once. the thin cotton of your panties is soaked, sticking to your cunt, making it easier to slide against him, slick and filthy and teasing.

he should be embarrassed. and he is—his cheeks are burning, his ears pink, his fingers gripping your hips so tight they might leave bruises. but the shame only makes it better. makes his cock twitch, makes his stomach clench, makes him whimper when you press down just right.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice wrecked, high-pitched and desperate. his thighs tense beneath you, shaking as he bucks up again, more frantic this time, grinding into you like he’s completely lost control. like he doesn’t care how messy he’s getting, how pathetic he must sound.

he’s so used to doing this alone—rutting into his hand, fucking into the mattress, biting his lip to keep from moaning too loud. but now, you’re on top of him, letting him do it for real, letting him soak through his clothes, letting him press his aching, throbbing cock against your cunt and use you like his fucking pillow.

the thought makes his head spin.

“i—” his voice catches, his fingers flexing on your waist, hips jerking up again. he’s trying to hold back, but he’s too far gone, too close, too sensitive. every time your pussy drags against him, it gets worse. every tiny movement sends another shockwave of pleasure through him, has another choked moan falling from his lips.

you press down harder, and his whole body jolts.

“shit—oh my god, i’m gonna—”

his head tips back against the pillow, mouth falling open as a broken sob rips from his throat. his hips stutter, his entire body shuddering as he cums hard, spilling into his sweats, soaking them even more, ruining himself completely. his cock throbs against you, twitching with every pulse of his release, sticky and hot and messy.

but even as he cums, even as his body trembles through it, he doesn’t stop moving. his hips keep rolling up into you, needy, shameless, fucking desperate for more, whining as the oversensitivity kicks in but still grinding against you like he can’t help himself.

he knows he should be mortified—knows he just came in his pants like the fucking virgin he is, knows how ruined and wrecked he looks. but the way you’re looking at him, the way your nails are digging into his skin, the way your own cunt is throbbing against him—

he’s gasping, body trembling beneath you, his chest rising and falling in rapid, uneven breaths. his whole body feels too hot, too sensitive, every nerve ending fried from orgasm, and yet—

he still wants more.

still needs more.

his cock twitches, still hard, still leaking despite the mess he’s already made, and you feel it—feel the way he shudders when you press your palm against the soaked fabric of his sweats, the way his hips jolt like he can’t help but chase the touch even though he’s so overstimulated it’s making his head spin.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice cracking, wrecked and breathless. his fingers dig into your thighs, gripping like he’s afraid you’ll pull away, like he needs you there, pressing down on him, making him feel everything.

you slide off him slowly, and he whines, blinking up at you in a daze—completely ruined, lips parted, cheeks flushed, body still trembling from the intensity of it all. his cock is throbbing beneath his ruined sweats, the sticky fabric clinging to him in a way that has him whimpering, overstimulated and desperate all at once.

and then, your fingers slip under the waistband of his sweats.

his breath hitches.

“w-wait—” his voice is small, uncertain, but he doesn’t stop you. he can’t. he lifts his hips instinctively, letting you peel the soaked fabric down, and the moment his cock is free—flushed, dripping, twitching—his entire body jolts.

the air feels too cold against his slick skin, too sharp, too much—but the second your fingers wrap around him, his brain short-circuits completely.

“ah—oh my god—” his head falls back against the pillow, his hips jerking up into your touch like he has no control over his own body anymore. his cock is so sensitive it hurts, but he still moans at the feeling of your fingers gliding along his length, slick with the mess he’s already made.

he’s never felt anything like this before. not like this. not with someone else. not with himself.

and then—then you shift, moving lower, your breath ghosting over the head of his cock, and his entire body locks up.

“b-baby—” his voice is strained, tight with a mix of anticipation and disbelief, because surely—surely you wouldn’t—

but then your tongue flicks over the tip, catching the sticky precum beading there, and his mind blanks.

a sob rips from his throat, high and broken, his thighs trembling as his hips buck up before he can stop himself. he’s never felt anything this hot, this wet, this fucking good, and it’s hitting him all at once, too much, too overwhelming, too fucking perfect.

“f-fuck,” he stammers, voice barely above a whimper, high and breathless. he’s never been this sensitive before, never felt this raw, this desperate—his cock still pulsing, twitching under the light drag of your tongue, overstimulated but still aching for more.

and you—god, you’re relentless.

you press your tongue flat against the swollen tip, licking up another slow, teasing stripe that has his back arching clean off the mattress. his hands leave the sheets, darting up like he means to stop you, but they hover just above your head, shaking, unsure. he can’t bring himself to push you away. doesn’t want to.

“too much,” he whines, but he doesn’t mean it, not really. his hips tell another story, rutting up into the heat of your mouth, his cock throbbing against your tongue, betraying just how badly he needs this. just how much he craves it, even through the haze of overstimulation.

you hum, lips curving against him, and the vibration shoots straight through him like lightning, leaving him gasping, wrecked and wide-eyed, staring down at you in stunned disbelief.

and then you sink down just a little further, take him just a little deeper, let your tongue flick just right—

and he’s gone.

and as he comes down, still shaking, still dazed, he watches as you slowly slide your panties down your legs.

his breath catches.

maybe he was wrong. maybe there is something better.

[iamjackmorris]

Why Hire SBC Developers in 2024? Key Benefits and Solutions

In 2024, businesses relying on VoIP (Voice over Internet Protocol) communications must prioritize both security and scalability. A Session Border Controller (SBC) is a critical component that enables this. SBC solutions have become essential for regulating and safeguarding VoIP traffic and hiring skilled SBC developers can offer a company with the technical expertise required to improve its VoIP infrastructure.

What is an SBC Solution?

An SBC (Session Border Controller) is a network element that regulates and safeguards VoIP traffic between networks. It protects communication networks against a variety of risks, including fraud and unauthorized access, while also providing effective call routing and traffic control. Essentially, an SBC solution enables enterprises to maintain high-quality, secure communication flows.

Why Hire SBC Developers?

As the use of VoIP systems increases, so does the complexity of managing them. This makes hiring SBC developers essential in 2024. Here’s why:

Security: SBC developers bring advanced knowledge of security protocols, ensuring that VoIP systems are well-protected against cyber threats. They implement encryption and session control to prevent breaches and unauthorized access.

Customization: Every business has unique needs when it comes to communication.SBC developers can customize SBC solutions to your organization’s specific VoIP needs, assuring seamless operations.

Scalability: As the company expands, so will your communication requirements. SBC developers may provide scalable solutions to manage rising VoIP traffic, ensuring that your network adjusts without issue.

Compliance: Regulatory compliance is essential in industries dealing with sensitive data. SBC developers ensure your VoIP systems meet industry standards, reducing the risk of legal complications.

Performance Optimization: By managing VoIP traffic effectively, SBC developers enhance call quality, prevent network congestion, and ensure a seamless communication experience.

Key Benefits of Hiring SBC Developers

Cost Savings: A well-implemented SBC solution lowers long-term operational expenses by improving network performance and reducing the chance of downtime.

Efficient Troubleshooting: SBC developers quickly detect and repair VoIP-related issues, minimizing the impact of communication outages.

Future-Proofing: With ever-evolving communication technologies, SBC developers ensure your infrastructure is adaptable to future VoIP advancements.

Global Communication: Whether your business operates locally or internationally, SBC developers create solutions that facilitate smooth communication across borders and networks.

How to Choose the Right SBC Developer

When hiring an SBC developer, look for candidates with specific experience in VoIP technology, networking protocols, and cybersecurity. The developer should also have a strong portfolio of successful SBC deployments. Hire VoIP Developer specializes in offering businesses with skilled SBC developers who can create and manage cutting-edge SBC solutions.

Conclusion

Hiring an SBC developer in 2024 is a wise decision for companies looking to upgrade their VoIP systems. From security to scalability, a skilled developer delivers an experience that will improve your communication infrastructure. Whether you want to secure your systems or streamline communication, hiring an SBC developer will provide long-term benefits.

If you’re ready to upgrade your VoIP network, Hire VoIP Developer connects you with top SBC developers who can satisfy your company requirements.

[dinstarblog]

The important role of SBC in modern communication networks.| Dinstar India

SBC (Session Border Controller) might sound like tech jargon, but it’s the unsung hero of seamless communication in today’s digital world. Acting as a guardian at the gate of communication networks, SBC ensures that voice, video, and data sessions flow smoothly and securely between different networks, devices, and protocols.

In simpler terms, imagine SBC as the bouncer at a club, only allowing in those who are on the guest list and ensuring that everyone behaves themselves inside. Similarly, SBC authenticates, authorizes, and encrypts communication sessions, protecting against cyber threats, fraud, and unauthorized access.

For businesses, Session Border Controller plays a vital role in enabling Unified Communications allowing employees to communicate effortlessly across various platforms like VoIP, video conferencing, and instant messaging. It ensures that calls are routed efficiently, transcoding if necessary, and maintaining quality of service regardless of network conditions.

Moreover, SBC facilitates the integration of emerging technologies like Web Real-Time Communication and SIP, paving the way for innovative communication solutions such as virtual meetings, remote collaboration, and Internet of Things devices.

However, the significance of SBC extends beyond the corporate world. It’s integral to service providers, ensuring seamless connectivity for VoIP calls, SIP trunking, and multimedia services. By optimizing network resources and managing traffic intelligently, Dinstar SBC enhances user experience while reducing operational costs for telecom companies.

Conclusion-  SBC might not grab the spotlight like smartphones or social media platforms, but its role in shaping modern communication cannot be overstated. From safeguarding privacy to enabling advanced communication solutions, SBC is the silent guardian that keeps our digital world connected and secure. So, next time you make a VoIP call or join a video conference, remember to thank the unsung hero, the Session Border Controller

Read more……

[market-research-reports-fmi]

 The Session Border Controller (SBC) market refers to the market for devices or software solutions that are used to secure and manage communication sessions in Voice over IP (VoIP) networks. Session border controller play a crucial role in ensuring the security, interoperability, and quality of real-time communication sessions, such as voice calls and video conferences, over IP networks.

The global Session Border Controller market is anticipated to be valued US$ 709 million in 2022, increasing at a 5.4% CAGR to US$ 1200 million by 2032. Shifting enterprise preferences away from public switched telephone network (PSTN) lines and towards IP telephony or voice over internet protocol (VoIP)-based private branch exchange are among the significant factors expected to create numerous opportunities for market growth during the forecast period.

[moongirlcleo]

Interrogation Tactics

❤︎  tags and content: restraints, powerplay, teasing, rough sex, finger licking, calebxf!reader, not proofread ❤︎  author note: check out all my fics by searching #moongirlcleo or on AO3

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo  

Caleb should’ve known better than to let you help him prepare for his upcoming interrogation. What starts as a standard practice session—questions, tape rolling, a cold metal chair—quickly turns into something far more dangerous. You push, you tease, you break him down piece by piece until the restraints snap and the Colonel reminds you exactly who's in charge.

(Or: You decide to rile your commanding officer up during a fake interrogation. He gets his revenge over the table.)

The room is cold, designed for function, not comfort. The walls—smooth, sterile metal—reflect the dim, artificial glow of the single overhead light. It flickers faintly, humming in the quiet, casting long shadows that stretch like claw marks across the floor. The air is thick with the scent of steel, sharp and clinical, tinged with the ghost of sweat and gunpowder. A place meant to break men down.

And yet, Caleb still sits like he owns the room.

He’s locked into the Colonel’s chair, his broad frame restrained, wrists bound tight to the worn leather cuffs at the armrests, ankles shackled to the bolted-down base. The chair was built for control—made to keep men like him in power. But now? It’s his prison.

His dark undershirt clings to him, taut over muscle, the only piece of his uniform left after you stripped him of his jacket. Shadows cut across the sharp lines of his jaw, the proud column of his throat, the steady rise and fall of his chest. But it’s his eyes—lavender and stormy, burning under furrowed brows—that give him away. He isn’t unaffected. He’s waiting.

You take a single step forward, the click of your boot against the floor slicing through the silence. Caleb’s jaw tightens, his fingers twitching against the leather restraints.

“Colonel,” you murmur, tilting your head as you let your gaze drag over him, slow and deliberate. “The interrogation begins now.”

A muscle in his jaw jumps. His hands flex again—useless, restrained.

And then, finally, his voice—low, rough, threaded with defiance.

“Is that so?”

The recorder clicks to life beside you, its red light glowing steady in the dim room. The low hum of the tape rolling fills the silence, a slow, deliberate reminder that every word spoken here is being documented.

You stand before him, arms crossed loosely, fingers tapping idly against your bicep. From a distance, you look composed—collected. But the way your gaze drags over him? That’s something else entirely.

“State your name for the record.”

Across from you, bound to the chair, Colonel Caleb lifts his head. His lavender eyes flicker to the recorder, then back to you. A slow blink. A slight roll of his shoulders, as much as the restraints allow.

“Colonel Caleb,” he says, voice low, even.

You tilt your head, watching him. “Full rank and title.”

A slow inhale. He has no reason not to answer. No reason to resist—yet.

“Colonel of the Farspace Fleet,” he says, his voice edged with something firm, something unyielding. Even tied to a chair, stripped of command, he still carries the weight of his authority.

You hum, tapping your fingers against the metal table beside you. “And what was the Farspace Fleet doing in restricted territory?”

Caleb exhales through his nose, eyes narrowing slightly. “We received intel about enemy activity along the border. Standard reconnaissance.”

You arch a brow. “Reconnaissance? In a classified sector?”

His jaw ticks, his fingers flexing against the leather cuffs. “I go where my mission takes me.”

You smile at that. Slow. Knowing.

“Of course you do.”

There’s no accusation in your tone. No outright challenge. Just that infuriating edge—the one that says you already know the answers. That this isn’t about information at all.

That this is about him.

About how much control he really has left.

And judging by the way his gaze has started to darken, by the way his body tenses in the restraints—

Not much.

The tape rolls on, a steady hum in the background, but you barely pay it any mind. This isn’t for the record. Not really.

You let your arms fall to your sides, fingers trailing lightly over the cool metal table beside you as you take a slow step forward. Your movements are unhurried, fluid, your body shifting with an effortless grace as you let the weight of silence stretch between you.

Caleb’s eyes track you instantly… of course he does.

He might be strapped to the chair, wrists bound, legs secured, but he’s still a soldier. A predator built to assess movement, trained to anticipate threats. But there’s no battlefield here. No enemy lines. Just you—pacing in front of him, your hips shifting with every deliberate step, teasing the space between you like it’s something to be played with.

“Tell me, Colonel,” you muse, dragging a slow fingertip along the edge of the table. “Did you really think you could go unnoticed?”

His jaw flexes, lavender eyes flickering from the lazy path of your hand back to your face. His control is still intact—for now.

“I had clearance to be there,” he answers, voice smooth but tight at the edges. “The mission was sanctioned.”

You hum, unconvinced, turning on your heel with a slow, fluid roll of your hips. His gaze drops for half a second—a flicker, a misstep. He catches himself, but it’s too late. You see it.

Your smile curls, barely there.

“Sanctioned,” you echo, your body moving in a slow sway, arms stretching above your head in a lazy, thoughtless motion. The stretch arches your back just enough to be noticeable—just enough for his throat to bob in a silent swallow.

The restraints creak. You don’t look, but you hear it—the slight pull of leather against metal. The way his fingers flex, knuckles tensing as though itching to move. Your gaze flicks toward him, feigning disinterest, but your smirk deepens. “Then why are you so tense, Colonel?”

His breath is steady, measured. His body, less so.

“You tell me,” he murmurs, voice edged with something dangerous. Something wanting.

Oh, you’re in control.

The recorder still rolls, its steady hum filling the space between you, but the real interrogation has already begun.

You let your fingers trail lazily down your own body—barely even thinking about it, or at least, pretending not to. A slow glide over your collarbone, down the line of your throat, tracing the shape of yourself as if deep in thought. As if Caleb isn’t even there.

But he is.

Tied to the chair. Watching.

And already, the first crack has formed.

“Explain your route,” you murmur, fingers slipping lower, dragging over your ribcage, brushing just under the curve of your chest before moving on, your touch leisurely. Unbothered. “How did the Farspace Fleet enter restricted airspace?”

Caleb’s shoulders have gone stiff, the leather cuffs creaking as he flexes his hands. He swallows, jaw tightening.

But he answers. Because you told him to.

“Entered through Delta Quadrant.” His voice is rougher than before, throat working around the words. “Coordinates were logged—”

His breath hitches.

You’ve barely done anything. Just let your hands smooth over the curve of your waist, fingers brushing the fabric there, shifting just enough to make the motion look indulgent.

His fingers curl into fists as the leather restraints groan. You smile.

“Logged where?”

His nostrils flare, lavender eyes burning. His breath is heavier now, his chest rising just a little quicker, but he’s still fighting it, still holding on.

“Command logs,” he grits out. “Main database.”

“Mmm.” Your fingers drift up again, this time slower, teasing, your head tilting like you’re only half-paying attention to his answer.

His gaze follows.

A telling indication, and a beautiful one.

***

The room is silent except for the steady hum of the recorder, its red light flickering like a heartbeat. The air between you has grown thick, heavy with something far removed from interrogation, something that crackles like a live wire in the space between you.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of your pants, pausing just long enough to make sure he’s watching. As if he could look anywhere else.

“Tell me, Colonel,” you murmur, your voice velvety smooth as you begin to push the fabric down, slow, achingly slow. “Did you find anything else? Anything… unexpected?”

Caleb’s breath is ragged now, his lavender eyes locked onto the slow reveal of bare skin, his hands curling into fists against the leather cuffs.

“Nothing,” he grinds out, but his voice has gone hoarse, frayed at the edges. His restraint creaks—his entire body taut, vibrating with frustration as he watches you step out of the last scrap of clothing, leaving yourself bare before him.

You let him look. Let him ache.

Finally, you touch yourself. Caleb sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, his thighs tensing where they’re strapped down, his jaw clenching so hard you can hear it grind. You drag your fingers down your stomach, light and teasing, not rushing—no, you want him to suffer. His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, his eyes wild now, drinking in every slow, deliberate stroke of your fingers.

His restraint shakes.

“Keep talking,” you say sweetly, running a hand down between your thighs, parting yourself with a quiet, teasing sigh.

Caleb lets out a low curse, his head tipping back against the chair before he wrenches it forward again, eyes burning through you.

“You—” His voice is wrecked, his arms flexing hard against the bindings. “You’re—” His words cut off the second you touch yourself properly, a soft, breathy moan slipping past your lips. His fingers twitch, his throat working around a swallow so thick it looks painful.

“C-Colonel,” you tease, barely holding back a mocking little laugh as you drag your fingers through yourself, spreading wetness, making sure he sees. “You didn’t answer the question.”

The chair groans as he pulls hard against the restraints.

And fuck, he looks ruined. His breath is ragged, his lips parted, his entire body trembling with frustration, desperation. Hunger. You bring your slick fingers up, wiggling them lightly in the dim light. Glowing with evidence. Caleb’s breath hitches.

His tongue flicks out, wetting his lips.

“Come on, Colonel,” you purr, stepping closer, your fingers hovering just near his mouth. “You follow orders, don’t you?”

His lashes flutter, a shuddering exhale slipping from between his teeth. And then, finally—finally—he breaks.

Caleb is shaking.

Not from fear, not from rage—but from the sheer, impossible effort of holding himself together.

The chair creaks beneath him, his arms trembling as his fingers curl into fists, pulling hard against the leather cuffs. His jaw is locked, his breath ragged, his lavender eyes dark and blown wide, locked onto the slow, taunting movement of your fingers.

And you’re not rushing. No, you’re taking your time—teasing yourself, spreading slickness in lazy circles, gasping softly, your body arching into your own touch. Like you forgot he was even there.

But you know. You see the way his lips part, the way his throat bobs with a heavy swallow. The way his muscles keep flexing like he’s fighting his own instincts, like every fiber of his being is begging him to break free, to take you, to claim what’s being paraded in front of him.

“Still with me, Colonel?” you ask, voice light, teasing, breathless from your own touch.

He doesn’t answer at first. Just swallows again, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.

“Fuck. You.”

Your lips curl into a smug smile. 

“Oh, Colonel,” you purr, dragging your fingers slower, letting out a quiet moan as you rock into your own hand, making sure he sees the way your body responds. “That doesn’t sound very cooperative.”

His head tips back, a broken sound rasping out of his throat.

“You’re—” His breath hitches as you spread yourself open wider, letting your other hand roam up your stomach, over your chest, teasing at the sensitive peaks of your breasts. His hands yank at the cuffs, his knuckles white, jaw tight. “You’re fucking evil.”

You laugh, soft and knowing, stepping closer, close enough that he can feel the heat of you, but still—still—out of reach.

“Am I?” you murmur, bringing your slick fingers up again, watching his tongue dart out—reflex—as if he can already taste you. His breath comes out shaky. His lips part, just a little. A silent plea.

You trace your fingers over his lower lip, smearing wetness there, letting him inhale you, letting him feel the proof of your pleasure.

His reactions to you are visceral – his chest shudders and lips quiver. His beautiful stormy amethyst eyes beg.

But he still doesn’t snap. You chew your cheek in thought. 

The chair groans beneath him, his body pulled so tight it’s a miracle he hasn’t snapped the restraints already.

But you’re not done with him yet.

You let out a soft, pleased sigh as you move closer, finally stepping between his legs, your bare thighs brushing against the rough fabric of his uniform. His breath hitches—his fingers twitch against the leather cuffs, the muscles in his arms trembling from restraint. Then, without warning, you sink into his lap.

Caleb chokes on a groan, his head snapping forward, his entire body jerking against the chair like he could thrust up into you, like he could chase the friction.

But he can’t. He’s trapped. And fuck, he hates it.

His hands yank at the restraints, his thighs flexing beneath you as you roll your hips—slow, teasing, dragging yourself over the hard line of his cock, separated only by the thick fabric of his pants. Caleb’s breath comes out wrecked, his jaw clenched so tight it looks painful.

“Something wrong, Colonel?” you murmur, shifting again, dragging yourself harder against him, feeling the twitch of his cock beneath you, the way he’s aching for it.

A strangled, desperate sound tears from his throat as he replies.

“You—” His voice cracks, his lashes fluttering as his head tips back, exposing the taut column of his throat. “You little fucking—”

He cuts off when you press against him harder, rolling your hips in slow, teasing circles, your heat dragging over him, soaking the fabric between you.

Then you lift your fingers—still wet, still dripping with the proof of your pleasure—and push them against his lips.

His entire body shakes, breath stuttering as he opens.

Mouth parting, tongue flicking out, sucking your fingers in without hesitation, moaning around them like he can’t help himself.

Fucking ruined.

“Oh, Colonel,” you breathe, curling your fingers slightly, feeling the wet heat of his mouth, the way his tongue swirls over them, tasting you, devouring you. “Look at you.”

A needy, broken sound vibrates in his throat. His hands flex again—useless, trapped—his cock throbbing beneath you, desperate for friction, desperate for anything.

Slowly, his lips pop off your fingers, slick and shining, his breath coming hard and fast.

“Please,” he rasps, voice wrecked, barely more than a whisper. “Please.”

His arms shake and the chair creaks.

So close… so fucking close.

His please still hangs in the air, breathless, wrecked, his lips slick from where he sucked your fingers clean. His thighs twitch beneath you, his body trembling like an animal on the edge of a breaking point, seconds away from lunging.

So, of course—you deny him again.

Your fingers trail over his lips one last time before you pull back, slipping off his lap in a slow, cruel drag, leaving him aching, empty, hard cock twitching beneath the thick fabric of his pants.

His chest heaves. His nostrils flare.

But he doesn’t snap.

You take your time, striding away, swaying your hips just enough to be taunting, acting as if you aren’t absolutely ruining him.

“Oh, Colonel,” you murmur, running a hand over your stomach, feeling the heat of your own body. “You look a little tense.”

Behind you—silence.

No words. Just ragged, heavy breathing.

You turn back, tilting your head, lips curling.

SNAP.

The restraints shatter.

Before you can even react, Caleb is on you.

A rush of heat, of sheer force, and suddenly you’re spun, your chest slamming against the cold metal table, your breath punching out in a sharp gasp.

A rough hand tangles in your hair, pushing you down, his body caging you in from behind.

His breath is hot in your ear.

“You,” he rasps, voice wrecked, furious, desperate. “Are so. Fucking. Cruel.”

His free hand drags down your spine, fingers rough, possessive, grabbing your hip, forcing you exactly where he wants you.

You barely have time to smirk before he thrusts against you, grinding his aching, throbbing cock against your soaked heat, letting out a guttural, needy groan at the contact he’d been denied for so long.

“Bet you thought I’d stay put forever, huh?” His voice is all teeth, all sharp-edged want, his hips rolling slow, punishing, pressing harder against you, making sure you feel every inch of what you’ve been teasing.

A hand smacks against the table beside you, his fingers splaying wide, bracing himself as he pins you there, letting you feel just how fucking feral you’ve made him.

“Tell me, pipsqueak,” he growls, voice dripping with revenge, his cock grinding against you in slow, aching circles.

“How does it feel to be on this side of the interrogation?”

The second you open your mouth—to tease, to taunt, to goad him further—Caleb moves.

A sharp rip, fabric tearing in his fists, and then—bare skin.

You barely have time to gasp before he’s on you, yanking your hips back, his grip bruising, his cock grinding against your exposed heat with a low, wrecked groan.

“You think you can fuckin’ tease me?” His voice is all gravel, rough and edged with something dangerous as he spreads you with his fingers, feeling how fucking soaked you are for him. “Sit there, touching yourself, making me watch while I couldn’t do a damn thing?”

His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling you back just enough for his teeth to graze the shell of your ear.

“Guess what, pipsqueak,” he rasps, cock sliding through your slick folds, teasing, taunting, denying you for the first time all night—just to make a point. “You’re done being in charge.”

And then, without another word, he slams into you.

A broken, guttural moan tears from your lips as he buries himself to the hilt, stretching you open with one rough, merciless thrust.

Caleb lets out a sound that is more growl than groan, his fingers digging into your hips, his cock throbbing inside you, pulsing with pent-up frustration, with all the suffering you’ve put him through.

“Fuck,” he bites out, voice shaking, his chest heaving behind you. “You love this, don’t you?”

He drags out, slow—just to make you feel every inch of him—before he slams back in, making the table creak beneath you.

“Love winding me up,” he snarls, pounding into you, his grip bruising, holding you exactly where he wants you. “Love pushing me to the edge—”

Another rough thrust, deep and perfect, forcing a gasping, needy moan from your throat.

“—Just so I can fucking ruin you.”

The table rocks with every thrust, metal groaning beneath you, the interrogation room filled with nothing but the slick, messy sounds of him driving into you, claiming what you’ve been teasing him with all fucking night.

He leans over you, his breath hot at your neck, his voice wrecked, hungry.

“You wanted to see me snap?” His fingers tighten in your hair, tugging your head back so you can hear him growl against your ear.

“Hope you’re fucking ready for it.”

And then he slams into you harder, fucking you into the table like a man possessed, like he’s never going to stop.

Like you are his.

Caleb isn’t holding back anymore.

Every thrust slams you into the table, knocking the breath from your lungs, leaving you helpless beneath him. His grip is unrelenting—one hand anchored at your hip, keeping you exactly where he wants you, the other tangled in your hair, keeping you right on the edge of pleasure, right on the verge of falling apart.

The table groans beneath you, every hard, merciless thrust sending you forward, your fingers grasping at the cold metal, your moans spilling into the empty interrogation room, mixing with the filthy, wet sounds of him ruining you.

And fuck, he feels it—the way your body pulses around him, the way your thighs tremble, your legs barely holding you up anymore.

With a growl, he pulls out—leaving you gasping, aching, your body desperate for him—before flipping you fast, lifting you like you weigh nothing and laying you back on the table.

And then he’s on you again, spreading you open, thrusting back into you before you can even take a breath, tearing a wrecked, broken moan from your throat as he fills you again.

“Oh, fuck—” Your hands claw at his arms, your back arching, your body instinctively chasing his.

Caleb groans, watching the way you fall apart beneath him, the way your face twists in pleasure, your lips parting, your eyes half-lidded, drunk on the way he’s taking you apart.

“Look at you,” he rasps, voice low, wrecked, eyes burning as he fucks into you, drinking in every twitch, every gasp, every shake. “So fucking pretty when you’re ruined.”

His fingers find your throat, not squeezing, just holding, grounding you, keeping you right there beneath him. His other hand slips between you, fingers dragging through your slickness, pressing, rubbing, working you closer—faster.

Your body jerks, your thighs clenching around his hips, your voice breaking on a gasping, shuddering moan.

“Caleb—”

His grip tightens, his thrusts turning sloppy, desperate, as he watches you fall apart for him, your body shaking, pleasure crashing through you, your walls pulsing around him, squeezing him so fucking tight—

And then he’s gone, his own pleasure ripping through him, his body trembling, his head dropping against your neck as he buries himself deep, groaning as he spills into you, claiming you in every way you teased him with.

For a moment, neither of you move—just breathing, still shaking from it, still connected.

Then—Caleb lifts his head, his lavender eyes still dark, satisfied now, but still hungry.

A slow, lazy smirk curls at his lips.

“Interrogation’s over,” he murmurs, breath still ragged.

***

The room is quiet now, save for the slow, heavy breathing between you, the faint hum of the interrogation tape still rolling in the background. The air smells like sweat, like sex, like the mess you made together.

Caleb is still half on top of you, his broad, overheated body pressing you against the cool metal table. He hasn’t moved—not really. Just buried his face against your shoulder, breathing you in, his hands still idly roaming, fingers tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your damp skin.

For a man who just snapped, who just fucked you like you were something to be conquered, he’s softer now, his touch lazy, grounding.

You sigh, stretching under him like a satisfied cat, fingers threading through his sweaty, tousled hair. “Feeling better, Colonel?”

Caleb huffs against your skin. “You’re a fucking menace,” he mutters, voice wrecked, but he still doesn’t move away. If anything, his grip tightens, his palm sliding slow over your hip, squeezing gently, reassuring.

You smirk, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. “Oh, come on. You needed it.”

He makes a grumbling noise but doesn’t argue—because you’re right. His breathing has steadied now, his body relaxing against yours, but his hands still won’t stop touching—running over your thighs, down your sides, soothing. You turn your head slightly, glancing at the clock on the far wall.

“Shit,” you murmur, lips twitching. “You’re supposed to be in that interrogation in, like… thirty minutes.”

Caleb freezes. His lavender eyes snap open, a slow blink, his brain clearly not fully caught up yet.

“The real interrogation?” he echoes, voice still gravelly from wrecking you over the table.

You bite your lip around a smile. “Mhm. This was just… prep.”

Silence. Caleb groans, dropping his forehead against your shoulder again, his entire body melting against you.

“Unbelievable,” he mutters, his breath warm against your skin. “You get me all worked up, completely fucking spent—and now I have to go sit through a debrief?”

You laugh, still lazily running your fingers through his hair. “Think of it as an endurance test.”

He growls—but it’s softer now, more amused than anything.

“Oh, you’re so lucky I love you.”

You grin, pressing a slow kiss to his temple, still basking in the warmth of him, the way his body still lingers against yours, wanting you close.

This wasn’t the first time you’d prepped him for an interrogation. Amongst all the grumbling, you knew deep down he loved it.

And you’d never tell him this, but you loved it too. 

[sleeplessdove]

if this makes u uncomfortable pls ignore this but i had this thought about g!p jinx hiding ur birth control so she can knock u up

i promise you this concept has already crossed my mind and does not make me uncomfortable at all like when i say y’all can get nasty in my inbox i mean it … but i digress, i could write a whole ass fic on this and i might but this has literally been haunting me cause its so perfect…

g!p jinx who plucks your birth control from the medicine cabinet and ‘accidentally’ flushes them all down the toilet — making sure to throw out the leftover evidence afterwards to esnure you don’t question her.

and she knows the exact time you take them, so she makes a point of keeping you distracted so you forget all about those stupid little pills that were ruining her fun.

jinx is too impatient to wait, her hands practically trembling with how eager she is to be inside you while knowing there is nothing stopping her from getting you pregnant.

of course she knows that missing one little dose isn’t enough but she will take what she can get at this point.

♡… short blurb for this cause i can’t help myself

her clammy hands grope at your soft flesh, desperate for any form of contact. jinx has never been the gentle kind, her motions desperate and bordering on animalistic.

as much as she loved helping work you open on her fingers, she needed her cock buried in you now. often times her impatience would lead to her forcing her way into your soaked cunt without any prep simply because she couldn’t get enough of the way your gooey walls fluttered around her, frantically trying to accommodate her size.

now was no different, as she was already shoving down her boxers and trying to line up her cock to push into you after a makeout session that left you both breathless and lust minded.

the sight of her leaking cock knocks you back into your senses, a mumbled curse leaving your lips as you realized you had fucked up and forgotten to take your pills.

where had you even left them?

you make a weak attempt to cover your cunt, as if that would stop jinx from fucking you senseless. “no, no, can’t. forgot my pills, m’ sorry” you huff, knowing that jinx never bought condoms anymore since you started your birth control so there was no way the two of you could fuck without consequences.

but jinx is hyper focused, her hand lightly slapping your own that was barely covering the glistening expanse of your arousal. “it’ll be fine, s’ just one time” she mutters, her brows furrowing with focus as she smears her precum against your slick folds.

the sensation makes you twitch but you continue, shaking your head. but she doesn’t even leave room for another excuse from you, barely pushing her hips forward as she speaks.

“please, baby? just a little?” she pleads in a sad voice and rationally you know she is faking it, but all you can focus on is the way her dick is slowly sinking into you. the stretch makes you ache but you need it to satiate yourself, all your worries slipping away as she forces her way in.

…

and to no one’s surprise, she is not pulling out no matter how much you plead. ropes of thick pearly cum floods your womb, her hips still rutting against yours as she uses you to get off.

“gonna finally knock you up” she babbles with a toothy grin, blissed out from her orgasm and barely coherent. “just gotta keep you full all the time, hm? you’re not gonna waste a single drop of my cum, are you?” she questions in a squeaky voice, cooing as you nod your head dumbly at her words.

… erm yeah im sorta passionate abt this but i can make a full fic eventually just cause we need to talk about the mating press position she puts you in eventually but whatevs!

[dreamersworldduh]

ALL YOURS 

• DEREK HALE x MALE!READER

SUMMARY — Derek's love for you is fierce, unrelenting, and deeply passionate, even when his heat takes control. While his primal instincts may amplify his need for you, his love and care remain constant. In these moments, you see every side of him—the lover, the protector, the alpha, and the vulnerable man who trusts you completely. His passion burns with intensity, but it's rooted in tenderness and trust, making you his anchor and the one he loves unconditionally. Despite his raw, wild instincts, Derek's love always shines through, grounding both of you in an unbreakable bond.

WARNING! 18+ MDNI. Suggestive Langauge. Swearing.

WORDS! 11.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE! Hi! Just wanted to say the lack of Derek Hale fics is criminal, the man is so goddamn fineeee and such an fucking alpha…ughhhh. Anywho —happy reading😉✨

Being the boyfriend of Derek Hale is anything but simple—it's a challenge, a test of patience, loyalty, and resilience. Derek isn't just your average guy; he's a brooding, fiercely protective werewolf with a past heavy enough to weigh down even the strongest of hearts. Being with him means you've faced your fair share of danger, heartbreak, and intense moments that have pushed you to your limits, both emotionally and physically. It's not just about enduring the supernatural chaos that seems to follow him like a shadow; it's also about navigating his deeply rooted possessive instincts—a part of him that can be as intimidating as it is endearing.

Derek's possessiveness isn't something to be taken lightly. It's a primal, instinctive part of him, born from years of loss and betrayal, making him hyperaware of anything that threatens his loved ones. You've seen that fiery gleam in his eyes when someone so much as looks at you the wrong way or steps too close for his comfort. His protectiveness borders on territorial at times, as though his wolf senses are constantly on high alert, ensuring you're safe, no matter the cost. He's not afraid to stake his claim—not in a controlling way, but in a way that lets the world know that you are his, and no one else's.

Being with Derek means navigating these intense emotions. You've had to learn how to reassure him, to remind him that you're not going anywhere, even when his insecurities surface. It means being patient when his past haunts him, and understanding when his walls go up, knowing that beneath that tough exterior lies a heart that loves fiercely, but has been hurt too many times to count. His loyalty to you is unwavering, but it's a loyalty that demands the same in return.

And yet, despite the challenges, being Derek Hale's partner comes with its own kind of magic. His love may be intense, but it's also genuine, powerful, and raw. He loves with his entire being, protecting you as if you're the most precious thing in his world. You've endured the trials that come with loving a man like him, but you've also been rewarded with moments of vulnerability and tenderness that only you get to see—the way he softens when he looks at you, or the rare, small smile that lights up his face when he feels at peace.

Yes, being Derek Hale's boyfriend is no easy task, but it's a journey you've embraced wholeheartedly, knowing that the love he offers is as wild, untamed, and enduring as the wolf inside him.

Though there are two distinct sides to Derek's possessiveness, this moment reveals the softer, sweeter version of it—the one that makes your heart flutter and reminds you how deeply he cherishes you. It happens during a pack meeting at the newly restored Hale House, a gathering that feels more like a family dinner than a formal strategy session. The house, once a ruin, now stands tall again, filled with laughter, chatter, and the comforting scent of home. You've taken it upon yourself to help serve food to the pack members, moving gracefully around the room, offering plates and making sure everyone is settled.

Derek is at the head of the long dining table, his usual brooding demeanor softened just slightly by the warmth of the atmosphere. He watches you like a hawk as you move from one person to the next, his gaze unwavering. You can feel the weight of his attention, a mix of pride and something undeniably territorial. No one says a word about it, but the rest of the pack knows better than to comment—this is just Derek being Derek.

Finally, when everything is in place and everyone has been served, you grab a plate for yourself and look for an open seat. Before you can take a single step toward a chair, a strong hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back gently but firmly. You glance down and meet Derek's intense gaze as he tugs you closer without a word. Before you know it, he has you settled in his lap, one arm snaking around your waist to keep you in place, as if daring anyone to suggest you belong anywhere else.

"Derek," you murmur, leaning in close so only he can hear. Your tone is a mix of amusement and exasperation. "This is your meeting. You're supposed to be leading it, not—"

"I don't care," he interrupts, his voice low and gravelly, but there's a softness in his eyes that betrays the intensity of his words. His hold on you tightens slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear he isn't letting go. "Stay here."

The pack continues their discussions, wisely ignoring the alpha's clear claim on you. You can feel his warmth radiating through his shirt, his hand resting protectively on your hip as if it's the most natural thing in the world. Despite the slight flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck, you can't help but relax against him. Derek, for all his gruffness, has a way of making you feel like the center of his world in moments like this.

You sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible."

"And you're mine," he replies, his tone quiet but filled with conviction, his lips brushing lightly against the side of your temple.

Though it's a little distracting for the rest of the pack, no one dares to question it. This softer, possessive side of Derek might be less intimidating than his fiercer moments, but it's no less powerful. It's his way of showing the world—and you—that you're not just someone he loves. You're someone he can't bear to let go of, even for a moment.

Then there's the other side of Derek's possessiveness—the version that's intense, commanding, and impossible to miss. It's the side that comes out when someone steps over a line they should've never approached in the first place. Tonight, that line is crossed while you're working your shift at the bar, doing the job you insisted on keeping despite Derek's protests.

"Let me take care of you," he's said countless times, his low, gruff voice almost pleading. But as much as you love him, you're too independent to let him shoulder your financial responsibilities. Bartending may not be glamorous, but it's your job, and you're proud of the work you do. Derek respects that—most of the time. But tonight, his patience is about to be tested.

It's a busy evening. Music hums through the air, mingling with the chatter of customers and the clinking of glasses as you pour drinks and banter with the regulars. Most of the people here know exactly who you're dating. They've seen the mark on your neck—Derek's love bite, dark and unmistakable, a territorial claim he left with purpose. The regulars don't bother you; they know better than to risk Derek Hale's wrath.

But tonight, trouble doesn't come from a regular. It comes from someone new—a man sitting at the bar, nursing a drink and watching you with a cocky smirk that instantly sets you on edge. At first, you try to brush off his attention. You're polite, professional, and quick to redirect the conversation, but he doesn't take the hint.

"Come on," he says, leaning across the bar, his voice dripping with confidence. "You can't tell me you're not single. A guy like you? Working here? Bet you get all kinds of offers."

You force a tight smile. "I'm not available," you say, your tone firm but not aggressive.

He doesn't back down. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you're waiting around for some guy who isn't even here. What kind of boyfriend lets you work a place like this anyway?"

You feel a flicker of irritation, but before you can respond, the air in the room shifts. It's subtle at first—a strange hush that falls over the nearby patrons, followed by a wave of tension that seems to ripple through the bar. You don't have to look to know what's causing it. Derek is here.

You glance toward the entrance just as Derek steps through the door, his presence commanding attention even in the crowded room. He's dressed simply, but there's an edge to his movements, a barely restrained energy that makes everyone instinctively give him space. His sharp green eyes lock onto you immediately, scanning the scene and landing on the man leaning too close to your side of the bar.

Derek doesn't break stride as he approaches, his gaze narrowing. The man notices him too late, straightening up but not yet realizing the mistake he's made.

"Something wrong here?" Derek's voice is calm, low, and steady, but it carries a weight that silences the nearby conversation.

The guy tries to play it off, oblivious to the storm he's just invited. "No problem. Just talking to your... friend here."

Derek's lips twitch into a faint, humorless smirk as he steps closer, resting his hands on the bar. "He's not just my friend," Derek says, his voice dropping into a tone so cold it could freeze the room. "He's mine."

The guy blinks, clearly caught off guard but still trying to save face. "Hey, no offense. I didn't know—"

"You do now." Derek cuts him off, his gaze never leaving the man's. The unspoken threat lingers heavy in the air, and the guy shifts uncomfortably, glancing around as if searching for an escape. Derek doesn't move, doesn't need to. His sheer presence is enough to make the man mumble a quick apology before slinking away, disappearing into the crowd.

Once the intruder is gone, Derek's attention shifts to you. The tension in his jaw softens as he reaches across the bar, his large hand sliding against your wrist, pulling you closer. His eyes flick briefly to the mark on your neck as if to reassure himself it's still there.

"You okay?" he asks quietly, his tone softer now but still laced with that protective edge.

"I had it under control," you say, though the slight smirk on your lips betrays the rush of affection you feel in the moment.

Derek raises an eyebrow, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "Sure you did."

You shake your head, leaning in just enough so only he can hear you. "You know I can have claws?"

"I know, but you don't have to use them when I'm around," he replies without hesitation, his voice steady and full of conviction. It's not a declaration for the room—it's a reminder for you, a promise that no matter what, Derek will always be there to protect you, to claim you, and to remind anyone foolish enough to cross him exactly where you stand.

For better or worse, this is the other side of Derek's possessiveness—intense, overwhelming, and unapologetically fierce. It's not always easy to handle, but it's part of who he is, and part of the way he loves you with everything he has. And in moments like this, you can't help but love him just as fiercely in return.

Then there are moments of intimacy and passion—moments that remind you of just how deeply Derek Hale loves and needs you. Tonight, one of those moments begins quietly, in the safe haven of your shared bedroom. The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light across the room as you sit comfortably on the bed, your back against the headboard, a book resting in your lap. It's not just any book, though—it's about being Luna to a pack.

You've never officially been given the title, but you've taken on the responsibilities in your own way. You care for Derek's pack—both the older members and the newer ones—like they're your own family. Whether it's listening to their problems, giving advice, training alongside them to sharpen their skills, or cooking meals that bring everyone together, you've seamlessly become their rock, their guiding presence. Even if Derek hasn't formally acknowledged it, the pack already sees you as their Luna, and you want to understand the role better—to be even more for them, and for Derek.

You're deep in thought as you read, turning a page when the sound of the bathroom door opening pulls your attention. You glance up just as Derek steps into the room, and for a moment, the air seems to shift. His hair is damp, water droplets still clinging to the ends and glistening under the soft light. A towel is wrapped low around his waist, leaving his broad chest and sculpted torso fully exposed, muscles flexing with every step he takes. The faint scent of his soap lingers in the air—a clean, woodsy scent that's distinctly his—and it makes your heart skip a beat.

Derek doesn't say anything at first. His piercing green eyes meet yours, and there's a flicker of something in his gaze—something raw and unspoken. It's a look that's equal parts admiration and desire, like he's seeing you for the first time all over again. You feel a blush creep up your neck, but you hold his gaze, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

"What are you reading?" he finally asks, his voice low and slightly rough, still thick from the heat of the shower. He moves closer, his bare feet silent against the floor as he stops at the edge of the bed.

You hold up the book slightly, showing him the cover. "Something about being a Luna," you reply softly, your voice steady but tinged with a hint of shyness. "I just... thought it might help. You know, since I've kind of been acting like one already."

Derek's expression softens, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, almost imperceptible smile. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your knee through the blanket you have draped over your legs. "You don't need a book to tell you how to be a Luna," he says, his tone warm and laced with pride. "You're already everything they need."

His words send a warmth through your chest, but before you can respond, he moves onto the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He settles beside you, leaning back on one arm as his free hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. The closeness of him—the heat of his skin, the faint scent of him still lingering from his shower—makes your pulse quicken.

"You take care of everyone," Derek murmurs, his voice softer now, almost reverent. His fingers trail lightly along your jawline, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "You've made this pack stronger, more connected. And you've done the same for me."

You swallow hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze as it locks onto yours. "I just want to make things easier for you—for all of you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to be someone you can depend on."

"You already are," Derek says firmly, his hand sliding down to rest against your shoulder. He leans in closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. "You're my anchor. My strength. My Luna."

The last word comes out with a weight that makes your breath hitch. He's never said it out loud before, never made it official. But hearing it now, spoken with such conviction, sends a rush of emotions through you. Before you can respond, Derek's lips capture yours in a kiss that's both tender and demanding, pouring every ounce of his love and passion into the moment. His hand cups the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his body pressing closer to yours.

The book slips from your lap, forgotten, as you lose yourself in him. His warmth, his touch, the way he whispers your name like it's the only thing that matters—it's all-consuming. In this moment, there's no pack, no responsibilities, no worries. There's only Derek, and the unbreakable bond you share with him.

When you finally pull back, breathless, he rests his forehead against yours, his hand still cradling your neck. "You don't have to prove anything," he says quietly, his voice full of sincerity. "You're already everything I need. Everything we need."

The words settle deep in your chest, filling you with a sense of belonging you didn't realize you were missing. In Derek's arms, with his love surrounding you, you realize that being his Luna isn't about titles or duties—it's about being the person who stands beside him, through everything, just as he stands beside you.

Derek can be such a lover boy when he wants to be—a side of him that's soft, affectionate, and, at times, beautifully vulnerable. It's a part of him he doesn't show to many people, but with you, he lets down his walls, revealing the man behind the strong, stoic alpha exterior. In those moments, he's all tender touches and quiet words, the kind of man who holds you close like you're the most precious thing in his world. He's the Derek who gently brushes your hair out of your face, who kisses you like you're his lifeline, and who lets you see the raw, unguarded emotions that he keeps locked away from everyone else.

But that tenderness can shift in an instant—because when Derek feels his heat coming on, that lover boy softness is quickly replaced by something much more primal and consuming. It starts subtly at first: a faint tension in his muscles, a sharper edge to his movements, and a look in his eyes that burns with an intensity that makes your heart race. You've learned to recognize the signs, the way his breathing grows heavier, his gaze locks onto you, and his usually steady control begins to fray at the edges.

In the beginning, Derek tries to fight it. He does everything in his power to keep that vulnerability intact, to hold onto the tender way he speaks to you and the soft, reverent way he touches you. He doesn't want to lose control, doesn't want the heat to strip away the affection he shows so carefully. But his heat is a force beyond his will—a deep, primal instinct that coils inside him, pushing harder and harder until it demands release. It's not something he can suppress, and as much as he tries to resist it, it takes over, leaving him with only one overwhelming need: you.

The signs are subtle at first—his hands lingering a little longer when he touches you, his gaze trailing after you with a sharp intensity, and the way his breathing changes whenever you're near. But when his heat fully takes over, it's no longer subtle. It's raw, unrelenting, and impossible to ignore. His hands become more insistent, his grip firmer as though he's afraid you might slip through his fingers. His voice, once so soft and measured, grows rough, urgent, every word heavy with a hunger that makes it clear just how deeply he craves you.

For example, there was that one night when the house was quiet, everyone in the pack fast asleep. You were tidying up the living room, moving quietly as you folded a blanket and straightened up the mess left from the day. The only sound was the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath your feet. You didn't notice the way the air had shifted at first, the way the temperature seemed to rise just slightly. But then you felt it—the unmistakable pull of his presence.

You turned, and there he was, standing in the doorway. Derek's chest rose and fell heavily, his hair still damp from the shower he must've taken not long ago. His eyes—those piercing green eyes—were locked on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. There was something different about him, something primal and wild simmering just beneath the surface. His muscles were tense, his hands curling into fists at his sides as though he was fighting to hold himself back.

"Derek?" you asked softly, your voice breaking the heavy silence. You set the blanket down, instinctively stepping toward him, but as soon as you moved, he was already closing the distance between you.

"I can't—" His voice was rough, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine. His hands came up, gripping your arms gently but firmly, his touch burning hot against your skin. "I can't wait anymore."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. His breathing was ragged, his body trembling slightly as he fought to maintain even a shred of control. "I've been trying," he murmured, his voice so low it was almost a whisper. "I've been trying to hold back, to give you space. But I can't—I need you now."

His words hit you like a wave, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension in his body coiled so tightly it felt like it might snap. Derek's vulnerability was still there, flickering in the way his hands shook slightly as they slid down your arms, but it was swallowed up by the primal need overtaking him. He pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he inhaled deeply, his grip tightening as though grounding himself in your presence.

"Tell me you're mine," he rasped, his voice thick with urgency, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Please."

You could feel his desperation, the way his entire being seemed to hinge on your response. And in that moment, with his heat burning between you and his love for you so evident in every touch, you realized just how much Derek needed you—not just physically, but emotionally, completely. You were his anchor, his safe harbor in the storm of his heat, and you would give him everything he needed.

You reached up, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to meet your gaze. "I'm yours, Derek," you said firmly, your voice steady even as your heart pounded.

The words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. With a low growl, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss so fierce and consuming it left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, his touch firm and possessive, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable connection that bound you together.

In that moment, there was no room for hesitation, no space for doubt. Derek's heat had taken over, but it wasn't just instinct—it was his love for you, raw and unfiltered, driving every touch, every kiss, every whispered word. And you gave yourself to him completely, knowing that this was what he needed, and that you would always be there to hold him through it all.

Without a word, his strong arms wrap securely around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off your feet as though you weigh nothing. The sheer strength in his embrace sends a shiver through you, your hands instinctively finding their place on his broad shoulders for balance. His body radiates warmth, the tension in his muscles palpable as he carries you across the room with purpose.

He reaches the couch in just a few steps and lowers himself into it, pulling you down with him. His firm grip never falters, guiding you to straddle his lap with ease. The position is intimate, your knees bracketing his hips as your bodies align perfectly. You can feel the solid expanse of his chest pressing against yours, the steady rhythm of his breathing grounding you even as your pulse quickens.

Derek's hands settle on your waist at first, his fingers curling slightly as they find their hold. But they don't stay there for long. His touch becomes more deliberate, sliding down to rest on your hips before moving lower, his palms finding their place on the curve of your ass. He grips you firmly, his fingers pressing into the flesh with just enough force to send a jolt of heat through you. There's no hesitation in his actions, only a possessive intensity that makes it clear he's in control of the moment.

His green eyes meet yours, and the look in them takes your breath away. It's a mix of desire, adoration, and something more primal—something that makes it impossible to look away. His hands squeeze again, a low, almost inaudible growl rumbling in his chest as he leans in closer. The movement presses you tighter against him, and the sensation leaves no doubt about how much he wants you.

"You feel perfect like this," he murmurs, his voice low and rough, the words sending a shiver down your spine. His hands don't stop moving, alternating between firm squeezes and slow, deliberate caresses, as though he's memorizing every inch of you. The way his fingers dig into your skin is possessive, grounding, and completely overwhelming all at once.

You can't help but let your hands roam as well, sliding over the strong planes of his shoulders and down his arms. Every inch of him feels solid, unyielding, and the heat between you grows with every passing second. Derek's gaze never wavers, and the intensity of his attention makes you feel like the center of his entire world.

"You're mine," he says, his voice barely more than a growl, but there's an undeniable softness beneath the possessiveness. It's not just a claim—it's a promise, one that makes your chest tighten with emotion. And with the way he's holding you, touching you, you know it's a promise he'll keep.

Derek's lips find the curve of your neck with a hunger that makes your breath hitch. His movements are deliberate yet fevered, the softness of his mouth contrasting with the growing intensity of his desire. The first kiss he presses to your skin is warm and lingering, but it quickly deepens, his lips parting to let his teeth graze against your sensitive flesh. You can feel the heat of his breath as he starts to work his way down, his focus entirely on leaving his mark on you.

The first hickey blooms under his lips as he sucks at the delicate skin just below your jawline, his hand tightening on your waist as if to keep you steady. But you're anything but steady. Your body reacts instinctively to the sensation, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his mouth continues its work. His tongue flicks over the spot he's just claimed, soothing it for a brief moment before he moves on to another area, determined to make sure everyone knows you're his.

As his kisses grow more intense, your body seems to take on a mind of its own. Without realizing it, you begin to shift in his lap, the movement subtle at first—a slight roll of your hips, a faint press of your weight against his hands. Derek notices immediately. His hands, already gripping your ass, tighten their hold, his fingers digging into the flesh as if anchoring you to him.

The friction from your movements sends a spark through both of you, and you hear Derek's breath hitch against your skin. He pulls back for just a moment, his green eyes blazing with a mix of surprise and raw desire as he looks at you. "You don't even know what you're doing to me," he growls, his voice low and rough, every word dripping with need.

But instead of stopping, your body moves again, a subconscious rhythm taking over as you grind against him. The heat between you is undeniable, and every shift of your hips fans the flames of Derek's growing need. His hands guide your movements now, pulling you closer, pressing you tighter against him. His grip is firm, almost possessive, as if he's afraid you might stop.

"You're making this impossible," he murmurs, his lips finding your neck once more. This time, his kisses are rougher, more desperate, each one leaving a deeper mark than the last. The combination of his mouth on your neck and the way his hands control your movements has you utterly overwhelmed, your mind clouded with nothing but the feel of him.

Derek groans softly against your skin, his voice filled with a raw, unrestrained hunger that only spurs you on. Every small movement, every sound you make seems to push him further, his desire for you quickly spiraling out of control. You can feel it in the way his lips move against you, the way his hands grip you like he never wants to let go, and the way his body reacts to every subtle shift of your own.

There's no hesitation, no second-guessing—just the all-consuming pull of desire, the undeniable connection between you both as Derek claims you with every touch, every kiss, every whispered growl.

Derek's hands were everywhere—firm, strong, and utterly insistent. His grip on your waist tightened as his lips found yours again, rough and demanding, leaving no room for hesitation. It wasn't long before his hands slid lower, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants and boxers. With one swift motion, he began pulling them down, exposing the bare skin of your ass to the cool air. The heat radiating off his body only made the contrast sharper, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake as his hands moved over your newly exposed flesh.

The way his palms kneaded the curve of your ass made it clear he was ready to take things further, his movements growing more urgent with every second. Derek's breathing was heavy, his lips hovering just over your jaw as he whispered, "I need you." His voice was gravelly, raw with desire, and it sent a shiver through you. You could feel just how ready he was, the evidence of his arousal pressing firmly against you as he gripped your hips and pulled you even closer.

But as much as the intensity of the moment consumed you, a sliver of reason managed to push through the haze. You glanced around the room, the familiar surroundings of the living room suddenly feeling far too exposed. You placed a hand on Derek's chest, pushing lightly to create a small bit of space between you. "Derek," you said, your voice breathless but firm. "We're in the living room."

Derek paused for the briefest of moments, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours. For a second, you thought he might reconsider, but instead, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips. "I don't care," he replied, his tone low and filled with determination. His hands slid back to your ass, squeezing possessively as he pulled you tighter against him, his lips brushing against your neck as he added, "Let them see. Let them know you're mine."

You let out a soft groan, your resolve wavering under the intensity of his words and the heat of his touch. But still, the logical part of you persisted, refusing to let him completely ignore the reality of your surroundings. "You would care," you countered, your voice steadying, "if someone walked in and interrupted us."

That gave him pause. Derek let out a low growl, his forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder as his grip on you tightened. You could feel the tension in his body, the conflict between his desire and his instinct to protect you—not just from danger, but from the inevitable embarrassment of someone catching you both in such a compromising position.

After a moment, he let out a resigned sigh, his lips grazing your skin as he murmured, "Fine." His hands lingered on you for a moment longer, his thumbs brushing over your skin as if committing the sensation to memory before he finally pulled back, his eyes still dark with unfulfilled need.

Suddenly, he slid his hands to your waist and gently lifted you off his lap, setting you aside on the couch. The loss of his warmth, even for a moment, made you ache with anticipation, but your eyes stayed fixed on him, drawn to the commanding presence that always seemed to radiate from him in moments like this.

Standing tall in front of you, Derek's green eyes burned with desire, his gaze locking onto yours as his hands moved to the hem of his shirt. He tugged it upward in one smooth motion, revealing the toned expanse of his chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen, each movement accentuating the strength you knew so well. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, his skin flushed slightly as the fire between you both built.

Your mouth went dry as he kicked off his shoes and reached for the waistband of his pants. The sound of the zipper echoed faintly in the room, a soft but tantalizing promise of what was to come. Derek's pants slid down his legs, and he stepped out of them with effortless grace, leaving him in nothing but his boxers. The thin fabric did little to hide the evidence of his arousal, and your heart raced at the sight.

Finally, Derek's hands moved to the waistband of his boxers, his movements slow enough to drive you mad with anticipation but fast enough to show he couldn't wait much longer. He hooked his thumbs into the fabric and pushed them down, letting the boxers fall to the floor. As he stood before you, completely bare, your eyes were instantly drawn to him—his swollen dick, thick and hard, standing proudly, a sight that never failed to captivate you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in, your pulse quickening as heat pooled in your stomach. Derek's body was a masterpiece, but it was the way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—that truly stole your breath. His dick twitched slightly under your gaze, and a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, as if he could sense just how much you loved seeing him like this.

"You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low and gravelly, the deep timbre sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your eyes flicking up to meet his as a smile of your own formed. "Every time," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity.

Derek stepped closer, his body radiating heat, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse race even faster. "Good," he murmured, his tone laced with desire. "Because it's all for you."

In a matter of moments, Derek gently pulled you up from the couch to stand in front of him. His green eyes locked onto yours, filled with raw hunger that made your knees weak. Without saying a word, his fingers slid to the hem of your shirt, tugging it upward in one smooth motion and tossing it aside. His touch was electric as his hands roamed over your exposed skin, pausing briefly at your chest before he moved lower, his gaze trailing behind every movement like a predator savoring his prey.

He crouched slightly to tug at your pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with practiced ease before sliding them down your legs. The cool air of the room kissed your skin as your boxers followed, leaving you completely exposed before him. Derek stood tall again, his eyes raking over your body with a primal intensity that made your breath hitch. When his gaze landed on your hard dick, his lips parted, and a low, guttural growl escaped him—a sound so full of arousal it sent a shiver down your spine.

"Perfect," he muttered, his voice gravelly and thick with desire. His hands didn't hesitate as they found your hips again, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive skin just above your pelvis before sliding lower to cup your ass. He gave it a firm squeeze, a smirk tugging at his lips when you gasped at the contact.

Before you could process what was happening, Derek bent down slightly and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, hoisting you up onto his shoulder with effortless ease. The sudden change in perspective made your heart race, your body pressing against his as his other hand gripped your thigh to keep you steady.

"Derek!" you exclaimed, though your voice came out breathless, a mix of surprise and excitement.

He chuckled darkly, his hand sliding down to your bare ass, giving it a sharp smack that echoed through the room. "I've been patient long enough," he growled, his voice low and dripping with need. The sting of his hand on your skin sent a jolt of heat through you, and you could feel the strength in his hold as he carried you with ease.

Each step he took toward your shared bedroom was purposeful, the sound of his bare feet against the floor muted by the thundering of your heartbeat. His grip on you was firm but possessive, and his other hand didn't stay idle. It slid along your thigh, occasionally squeezing or smacking your ass again, the sensation leaving you breathless and your arousal growing.

"Keep squirming, and I'll have to stop right here," Derek rumbled, his tone teasing but with a dangerous edge that sent a thrill through you. "And I don't think either of us wants that."

The promise in his words made your body still, though the anticipation building between you was almost unbearable. Derek's confidence, the sheer power in the way he carried you as if you were weightless, only made your desire for him burn hotter. By the time he reached the bedroom door, you were already aching for him, your body alive with anticipation for what was to come.

Derek kicked the door open with his foot, stepping inside with purpose. He lowered you just enough to brush his lips against your skin, his hot breath ghosting over your back as he whispered, "You're mine tonight." Then, with one last firm squeeze to your ass, he laid you down on the bed, his body following closely behind as his desire for you became all-consuming.

Derek's lips crashed against yours with a hunger that took your breath away. His kiss was deep, urgent, and all-consuming, as if he couldn't get enough of you. His hands cupped your face, his fingers rough yet gentle as they tilted your head slightly to deepen the connection. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his chest pressed firmly against yours, his breathing growing heavier with every second that passed.

Your hands roamed down his strong, sculpted body, your fingertips tracing the ridges of his muscles. Derek groaned softly into your mouth, his lips parting slightly as his tongue brushed against yours, igniting a fire that made your entire body hum with anticipation. The kiss was messy, desperate, and filled with all the pent-up desire he'd been holding back.

As your hand trailed lower, you felt the tension in his body shift, his muscles tensing slightly under your touch. Your fingers brushed against his length, already hard and hot, and a shudder ran through him. Derek growled low in his throat, the sound reverberating in his chest as your hand wrapped around him. The growl wasn't just a reaction—it was primal, a raw expression of his need for you.

You started to pump him slowly, your grip firm but teasing. Derek's head dropped forward, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a sharp exhale. His lips parted, his breathing growing heavier with each deliberate stroke of your hand. "You're going to drive me crazy," he murmured, his voice rough and strained, a hint of a growl still laced in his tone.

The way his body responded to your touch was intoxicating. His hips jerked slightly, instinctively chasing the friction you were providing. His hands slid down to your waist, his grip tightening as if he needed to ground himself, to keep from losing control entirely. Every time your hand moved, a low, guttural sound escaped him, his arousal clear in the way his body seemed to tremble under your touch.

"You know what you're doing to me," Derek growled, his voice rough and filled with barely restrained desire. His green eyes locked onto yours, darkened with lust, and the intensity in his gaze made your heart race. "You're not playing fair."

You smirked slightly, your strokes becoming just a little slower, more deliberate, as you watched him struggle to keep his composure. "I'm just giving you what you want," you replied, your voice soft but teasing, a playful edge to your tone.

Derek's growl deepened, his hands sliding up your sides before pulling you even closer. His lips found yours again, this time rougher, more demanding, as though trying to pour every ounce of his need for you into the kiss. The way his body responded to your touch, the way he growled and trembled beneath your hand, was utterly intoxicating. You knew he was holding back, but the raw intensity in his kisses and his touch made it clear he wouldn't be able to for much longer. And that thought sent a thrill through you that only made you want to tease him more.

Suddenly, Derek's hand gently closed around your wrist, pulling your hand away from his dick. The intense look in his green eyes made your breath hitch, a silent promise of what was to come. He leaned in, his lips finding yours once more in a kiss that was both deep and commanding, his tongue brushing against yours with a hunger that left you dizzy. Slowly, his kisses began to trail downward, his lips and tongue leaving a fiery path across your jaw, then your neck, and lower still.

Each kiss was deliberate, his mouth pausing to savor the curve of your collarbone, the plane of your chest, and the dip of your stomach. His hands followed the journey, strong and sure as they mapped out your body, leaving no inch untouched. By the time he reached the edge of your hips, your pulse was racing, your breath coming in shallow gasps. Derek smirked against your skin, the heat of his breath a tantalizing tease as his hands gripped your thighs.

He looked up at you then, his gaze dark and filled with unrestrained desire. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hands beneath your legs, lifting them effortlessly over his broad shoulders. The way he held you—strong, steady, and completely in control—sent a wave of anticipation coursing through you. Before you could say anything, you felt it: the first brush of his tongue, warm and wet, as it trailed along your hole.

A soft moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as the sensation overtook you. Derek growled low in response, the vibration against your skin only adding to the pleasure. His tongue worked with expert precision, circling, teasing, and pressing in ways that left you gripping the sheets beneath you. The heat of his mouth, combined with the pressure of his hands gripping your thighs, was overwhelming in the best way.

Your hands found their way to his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you held onto him for dear life. The small, involuntary tug you gave earned another growl from Derek, his lips curling into a smirk against your most sensitive skin. He didn't stop—if anything, he doubled down, his tongue moving more insistently as he sought every sound he could pull from you.

"Derek," you gasped, your voice trembling as your back arched slightly, pressing yourself closer to his mouth. The combination of his tongue and the strength of his hands holding you in place left you completely at his mercy. Each flick, each press of his tongue sent sparks of pleasure coursing through you, your entire body alight with sensation.

He paused just long enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, a smirk playing on his face. "I love the way you sound," he murmured, his voice rough with arousal before he dove back in, his tongue exploring you with even more intensity. The way his stubble brushed against your skin only heightened the sensation, the mix of roughness and warmth sending you spiraling.

Your grip on his hair tightened, a soft gasp escaping you as he found just the right rhythm. Derek's growls vibrated against you, letting you know just how much he enjoyed tasting you, savoring every moment. Time seemed to blur as he continued, his sole focus on your pleasure, making it impossible to think of anything else but the way his mouth felt against you. Every kiss, every stroke of his tongue was a reminder of just how much Derek wanted you, needed you, and was willing to worship every part of you.

When your hole was glistening and wet from Derek's relentless attention, he finally pulled back, his lips and chin slick as he looked up at you with a mix of hunger and satisfaction. His hands gently squeezed your thighs, his touch grounding as he took a moment to drink in the sight of you—flushed, breathless, and completely undone beneath him.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, the words dripping with sincerity and raw desire. His hands shifted, one sliding up to caress your hip while the other found his own dick, thick and pulsing with need. Slowly, he stroked himself, his eyes never leaving yours, the sight of you clearly spurring him on.

Derek positioned himself between your legs, the tip of his swollen dick brushing against your slick hole. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through you, and your breath hitched as you felt the heat of him press against your sensitive skin. He moved deliberately, sliding his length along your hole, teasing you with the friction. Each slow, deliberate stroke left you gasping, your body instinctively shifting to chase the sensation.

"Derek," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as your hands reached out to grip his broad shoulders. He smirked slightly at your reaction, the faintest curve of his lips a sign of his confidence, his control.

"Patience," he said, his voice rough yet soothing, his free hand sliding up to intertwine with yours. "I want to feel every second of this."

Finally, he positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his dick pressing just slightly inside. His green eyes met yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, but all he saw was your trust, your desire for him. With a steady hand, he began to push forward, his hips moving slowly, giving you time to adjust as he stretched you inch by inch. The sensation was intense, a delicious mix of pressure and pleasure that left you gripping his shoulders tighter.

Derek let out a low groan, his voice deep and guttural, as he sank further into you. "You feel so good," he murmured, his words shaky as his control wavered. His hands returned to your hips, gripping you firmly as he continued his slow, deliberate pace, every movement sending waves of heat coursing through your body.

Your body arched beneath him, your breath hitching as he filled you completely. The stretch was intense, but the way Derek moved—steady, patient, and utterly focused on your comfort—made it impossible to feel anything but pleasure. He paused for a moment when he was fully seated inside you, his chest heaving as he gave you a chance to adjust, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer now, his concern shining through the haze of his desire.

You nodded, your hands sliding up to cup his face, your lips brushing against his. "I'm perfect," you whispered, your voice filled with both reassurance and longing. "Please, Derek. I need you."

Hearing those words seemed to break whatever restraint he had left. Derek's hips began to move again, slow and deliberate at first, each thrust pushing deeper, making you feel every inch of him. His hands held you firmly, guiding your body against his as he set a rhythm that quickly had you melting beneath him. Every movement, every touch, every breath between you was filled with passion, a connection so deep it left you utterly consumed by him.

Then his strong hands moved to guide your legs, lifting them effortlessly and wrapping them around his waist. The new position brought him even closer, allowing him to sink deeper into you with every movement, making your breath hitch with each thrust. His body radiated heat, his skin damp with exertion, and the steady grind of his hips made it clear he was completely consumed by you.

Leaning forward, Derek brought his face closer to yours, his green eyes darkened with lust but softened by the depth of emotion they held. His lips captured yours in a passionate kiss, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that matched the rhythm of his body. His tongue brushed against your lower lip, and you opened for him, letting him deepen the kiss, your hands tangling in his damp hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss was intense, raw, yet there was a tenderness to it—a reminder that even in this moment of unrelenting desire, Derek was still yours, and you were his.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled slightly as he worked to hold back the primal instincts simmering just beneath the surface. Derek's heat was there, smoldering like an untamed wildfire, and every thrust, every growl rumbling in his chest, hinted at how much he was restraining himself. He wanted to lose himself in you, to let his heat take over completely, but he fought to maintain control, to ensure your pleasure and comfort came first.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice rough and strained, a testament to just how much effort he was putting into holding back. His forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours as his thrusts continued at the same steady pace, each one deliberate and measured. "I'm trying," he added, his voice breaking slightly, a growl slipping out as his hands gripped your hips tighter. "I don't want to hurt you."

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing against his stubbled jaw as you gazed up at him. "Derek," you said softly, your voice trembling but steady, "I trust you. I'm here. Let go."

His eyes searched yours, his resolve flickering for a moment before he groaned, his lips claiming yours again in a kiss so fierce it made your heart race. His grip on your hips tightened, and his movements became just a fraction deeper, more purposeful, though still careful not to overwhelm you. The simmering heat inside him was building, and you could feel the tension rising with every thrust, every breathless kiss.

Derek held back, but barely. The restraint in his movements was palpable, his body vibrating with the effort it took to stay in control. Yet, through it all, his focus remained on you—your reactions, your pleasure, the soft moans and gasps he pulled from your lips as he pushed you closer to the edge. And in that moment, you knew that even as his heat threatened to consume him, Derek would never let it burn you. Instead, he would use every ounce of his strength to channel it into something passionate, raw, and undeniably yours.

You sat up slowly, the movement making Derek's breath hitch as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His eyes met yours, dark with desire and barely restrained passion, as your lips found his in a kiss that was hungry, deep, and filled with the raw emotion simmering between you. The warmth of his skin pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to steady you as you moved.

Your body pressed against his chest, your heart pounding as you began to lift yourself, only to sink back down onto his length. The sensation drew a low growl from Derek's throat, his hands gripping your hips to guide your movements, his strength supporting you effortlessly. Each time you moved, a wave of pleasure rippled through both of you, the rhythm you created together growing steadily more intense.

Derek's lips moved with yours, his kisses desperate and consuming, as though he couldn't get enough of you. His tongue brushed against yours, his breath hot and ragged as you continued to rock up and down his length, taking him fully with every motion. The feeling of him filling you completely sent shivers down your spine, and the sounds escaping both of you only added to the fire between you.

"Ugh," Derek murmured against your lips, his voice rough and low, a tremor of restraint still present beneath the overwhelming desire in his tone. His hands slid down your back, gripping you more firmly, his fingertips digging into your skin as he fought to maintain his control.

You pulled back slightly, resting your forehead against his, your fingers tangling in his hair as you looked into his eyes. "Derek," you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of the moment. "I want you—completely. Don't hold back."

His eyes searched yours for a moment, the conflict in his expression clear. But as you moved again, your body pressing against him and taking him deeper, the last threads of his restraint began to fray. A deep, guttural growl escaped his chest as his grip on you tightened, his hands guiding your movements with more insistence.

The words, "Don't hold back," was all Derek needed to finally let go. His body stilled for just a moment, his chest rising and falling as he processed what you'd said, the last remnants of his restraint hanging by a thread. Then, like a dam breaking, something primal and unstoppable surged forward. His eyes snapped open, glowing a brilliant, fiery red—a vivid sign that his heat had fully taken over. The intensity in his gaze sent a shiver through you, but it wasn't fear you felt. It was exhilaration, knowing he trusted you enough to let his instincts take control.

With a low, guttural growl that reverberated through the room, Derek's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive force that left no doubt: you were his. His thrusts increased, the steady pace giving way to something far more raw, more urgent. Each powerful motion sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, your body arching to meet him as he moved with an almost unstoppable intensity.

"God, you're mine," he growled, his voice rough and deep, a mix of desire and possession. The words sent a thrill through you, and you tightened your hold around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him as his thrusts drove deeper, faster. The heat radiating off his body felt like it might consume you, the primal energy pouring out of him filling the room as his focus remained entirely on you.

His glowing red eyes never left yours, even as his lips found your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Each kiss felt like a brand, a mark of his uncontrollable need for you. The mix of his rough, animalistic growls and the whispered praises against your skin left you trembling in his arms, completely lost in the storm of his heat.

"You feel so damn good," Derek muttered, his voice breaking slightly as his pace continued to build. His hands moved from your hips, sliding up your back, pulling you flush against his chest as if he couldn't get you close enough. The new angle sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your moans mingling with his growls as he pushed you both closer to the edge.

Every thrust, every motion, every sound Derek made was a testament to how much he'd been holding back, and now that he'd given in, there was no stopping him. His heat had fully taken over, his need for you driving him to claim you in every possible way. And as the overwhelming sensations built to a crescendo, you realized there was nothing else in the world but this—Derek, his love, his heat, and the unshakable bond between you.

Soon Derek's thrusts became relentless, his dick driving into you with a force and precision that sent shockwaves through your entire body. Each motion was deep, powerful, and perfectly aimed, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with the accuracy of someone who knew your body intimately. It was overwhelming, the way he moved—like every thrust was deliberate, designed to claim you completely and leave you trembling in his grasp.

Your hands clung to his shoulders, your fingers digging into the hard muscles as he kept up his intense rhythm. Derek's growls filled the air, low and primal, reverberating through your chest as he poured every ounce of his strength and need into you. His glowing red eyes bore into yours, the fiery gaze a reminder of the heat driving him, the primal instincts that he had finally let loose.

"Derek," you gasped, your voice breaking as another perfectly angled thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you. The way he moved felt almost otherworldly, each motion deliberate yet raw, leaving you breathless and desperate for more. It was like he was determined in his mission to push you further, to make sure you felt every inch of him.

He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, "Every part of you belongs to me." His voice was rough, strained, but filled with conviction, his words punctuated by the unyielding rhythm of his hips. The sheer dominance in his tone, paired with the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you, sent shivers racing down your spine.

Your body reacted instinctively, arching into him as your legs tightened around his waist. Derek's hands gripped your thighs, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive force as he adjusted his angle slightly, making each thrust even more devastatingly precise. The sensation was almost too much, a perfect mix of intensity and pleasure that left you gasping for air.

Derek was completely lost in you, the heat of his need driving him to claim you fully, completely. And with each thrust, each powerful motion, it felt like he was branding himself into your very soul, making sure you'd never forget exactly who you belonged to.

The pleasure overwhelmed you, building higher and higher until you couldn't hold back any longer. With a strangled gasp, your body tensed, and a rush of ecstasy surged through you. Your release came in powerful waves, your dick pulsing as streams of cum spilled between your bodies, coating your stomach and his. The intensity of it left you trembling, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath.

But Derek didn't stop. If anything, the sight and feel of your climax seemed to fuel him further, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he maintained his relentless pace. His glowing red eyes locked onto yours, the raw hunger in them making it clear that your pleasure had only pushed him closer to the edge of his control.

"You think we're done?" Derek murmured, his voice rough and dripping with desire. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as his hips thrust deeper, harder, drawing out every ounce of sensitivity from your overstimulated body. "I'm not stopping until I've had all of you."

The overstimulation sent sparks of sensation through your nerves, your body jerking slightly at the relentless friction. Every thrust was a mix of pleasure and intensity that bordered on too much, yet you couldn't bring yourself to tell him to stop. The way he filled you, the way his hands gripped your hips to pull you tighter against him, left you utterly helpless under his control.

"Derek," you moaned, your voice trembling as your hands gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The combination of your own sensitivity and his unwavering pace was overwhelming, leaving you caught in a haze of pleasure that felt like it might consume you entirely.

He growled low, a sound so primal it made your toes curl, and his lips found your neck, biting and sucking at your skin as he thrust into you with a ferocity that left you breathless. "I'm not done with you yet," he rumbled, his tone possessive, his movements a clear reminder that he wasn't holding anything back anymore.

Even as your body trembled from the overstimulation, you couldn't deny the heat building again deep inside you. Derek's intensity was undeniable, his need for you all-consuming, and the way he moved made it clear he wouldn't stop until you were completely undone beneath him—again and again.

Suddenly, Derek's movements grew even more primal, his glowing red eyes blazing with unrestrained heat. With a growl that vibrated deep in his chest, he pulled out of you briefly, he gripped your thighs as he stood up effortlessly, lifting you with him. The next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the cool surface of the nearest wall, the sharp contrast of heat and cold sending a shiver through your already sensitive body.

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist as Derek held you there, his strength making it seem like you weighed nothing. One of his hands braced against the wall beside your head, while the other gripped your thigh tightly, keeping you secure as he aligned himself once more. Without hesitation, he thrust back into you, the sudden fullness pulling a loud, uncontrollable moan from your lips.

The new angle made every movement more intense, Derek's hips snapping against you with a force that left you gasping for air. Each thrust drove you harder against the wall, your body pinned completely under his control. His growls filled the room, low and guttural, as he poured every ounce of his heat-fueled need into you.

"I can't get enough of you," Derek muttered, his voice rough and breathless. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his piercing eyes locking onto yours. "I can't stop—I don't want to stop."

The intensity of his words, combined with the unrelenting rhythm of his hips, sent sparks of pleasure racing through your body. Your hands tangled in his hair, your fingers gripping tightly as you pulled him closer, capturing his lips in a desperate, heated kiss. His tongue tangled with yours as his thrusts became harder, faster, each one leaving you trembling in his arms.

The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, mingling with the labored breaths and groans that escaped both of you. Derek's hand slid from your thigh to grip your ass, pulling you closer to him as his hips drove even deeper, hitting spots that made your vision blur. The wall behind you groaned slightly under the force of his movements, but Derek didn't seem to care—his focus was entirely on you, on the way your body responded to his.

"Fuck," he growled against your lips, his voice dripping with possession as his thrusts became almost brutal in their intensity. His heat burned through him, his need for you all-consuming, and he was determined to claim every part of you, to make sure you felt just how much he wanted you.

Every movement, every growl, every heated kiss pushed you closer to the edge again, your body completely overwhelmed by the force of Derek's passion. Pinned against the wall, utterly at his mercy, you surrendered to him completely, knowing he wouldn't stop until you were both completely undone.

With one final, deep thrust, Derek's body tensed against yours, his growl reverberating through the room as he reached his peak. You felt the warmth of his release flood into you, the heat of it spreading through your body like wildfire. His hands gripped you tightly, almost possessively, his nails pressing into your skin as he held you flush against him, refusing to let even an inch of space separate you.

The tension in his body slowly began to ebb as his growls softened into heavy, ragged breaths. Derek's forehead rested against yours for a moment, his chest heaving against yours as the remnants of his heat coursed through him. His lips found yours instantly, the kiss a mix of passion and tenderness, as if he needed to ground himself in you after the intensity of what you'd shared.

The desperation in his kisses began to fade, replaced by something gentler, more intimate. His hands slid up to cup your face, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as he deepened the kiss, his body still trembling slightly against yours. It was as if he was pouring every ounce of affection and gratitude into that moment, letting you know without words how much he loved and needed you.

Gradually, as the heat left his system, the fiery red glow in his eyes began to fade. You watched as they softened, returning to the familiar, piercing green you loved so much. His gaze met yours, the intensity in his eyes replaced by a look of pure adoration and vulnerability. The primal edge of his heat had given way to the man you knew—the Derek who cherished you with every fiber of his being.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse from the growls and moans of moments before. His forehead pressed gently to yours, his hands cradling your face as he searched your eyes for any sign of discomfort.

You smiled, your fingers brushing through his damp hair as you leaned into his touch. "I'm more than okay," you replied, your voice steady and filled with warmth. "That was... everything."

A faint, almost sheepish smile tugged at Derek's lips, his eyes flicking between yours. "I didn't hurt you?" he asked again, his tone softer now, the protective side of him surfacing even after everything.

You shook your head, pressing a kiss to his lips, slow and reassuring. "You were perfect, Derek."

Relief washed over his features, and he let out a soft breath, pulling you into a tight embrace. He held you there for a long moment, his heart beating steadily against yours as his body finally relaxed completely. Even as the intensity of his heat faded, his love for you burned just as brightly, evident in the way he held you as if you were his entire world.

Derek's love for you shines through, even in the midst of his heat—a love so deep and unwavering that no primal instinct could ever overshadow it. When his heat takes control, his movements may be raw, his growls guttural, and his need overwhelming, but beneath it all, it's still him. It's still the man who cherishes you with every fiber of his being, who would do anything to protect you, and who trusts you enough to let you see him at his most vulnerable.

It's in those moments that you see Derek completely unguarded, stripped of all the walls he's built to shield himself from the pain of his past. You see the man who loves you fiercely and unapologetically, who worships every inch of you with an intensity that feels like it could consume the air around you. His heat amplifies that love, turning it into a force that's almost too powerful to contain, but even as his instincts drive him, he never loses sight of you—your needs, your comfort, your pleasure.

Each touch, each kiss, each growl is filled with unspoken promises: that you are his, that he will always protect you, and that no matter what, he will never let anything harm you. It's a love that feels almost untamed, wild and primal, yet at the same time, it's rooted in tenderness and trust. Even in his most unrestrained moments, Derek never forgets who you are to him—the one person who sees every side of him and loves him for all of it.

And in those moments, you see all the pieces that make Derek who he is. The lover, whose touch can be both gentle and possessive, worshiping you as if you're the only thing that matters in his world. The protector, whose instincts drive him to keep you safe at all costs, even from his own untamed power. The alpha, strong and commanding, yet willing to yield to you in ways he never would for anyone else. And finally, the man—the one who belongs to you as much as you belong to him, the one who lets himself be vulnerable and open because he trusts you with all that he is.

Derek's passion may burn hot enough to scorch everything in its path, but with you, it's never destructive. It's a love that warms you, strengthens you, and reminds you that no matter what happens, you are his anchor, his solace, and the one person he'll always come back to. And as he holds you close, as his red eyes fade back to green and his heat slowly ebbs away, you know without a doubt that his love for you will always burn brighter than anything else.