The next morning dawned soft and warm, sunlight filtering through Derek’s curtains like a gentle promise. Stiles stirred first, naked body tangled in his sheets, her head on his chest. She blinked awake, smiling as memories of the night’s insatiable passion flooded back—his cock claiming her in every room, every position, their promises echoing in her ears. Derek was still asleep, looking peaceful and handsome, his tattooed arm draped possessively over her waist.

She leaned up, pressing soft kisses to his jaw, then his lips. “Derek… wake up.”