Derek and Stiles lay tangled in the sheets, their naked bodies pressed together in a warm, sated glow. The room was filled with the soft hum of the air conditioner and the faint, rhythmic snores of the twins coming through the baby monitor on the nightstand—Eli’s little snuffles mixed with Noah’s deeper breaths, a reminder of the innocent world just beyond their forbidden passion. Stiles nuzzled her face into Derek’s broad, muscled chest, her white skin still flushed from their earlier fucking, her pink lips brushing his skin as she sighed contentedly. “Mmm, Derek… this feels so right,” she whispered sweetly, her massive breasts squished against him, a few last drops of milk leaking onto his abs.

Derek smiled down at her, his large hand caressing the plump curve of her fat ass, squeezing the soft flesh possessively. “Yeah, baby… you’re perfect right here. My sweet Stiles, all mine.” He was happy—truly happy for the first time in ages—the weight of his loveless marriage forgotten in her arms. His fingers traced lazy circles on her ass cheek, dipping lower, grazing the cleft between them until his fingertip brushed her tight, pink asshole.