The morning sun had climbed higher, warming the penthouse as Stiles and Derek finally stirred from the tub, bodies pruned and satisfied from their rough water fuck. Derek wrapped her in a fluffy towel first, drying her gently—his hands lingering on her curves, but sweetly this time, like he was cherishing her. He helped her into one of his oversized shirts (it barely covered her ass) while he slipped on boxers and a tee, then led her to the kitchen.

“You’re adorable like this,” he said, voice soft as he whipped up breakfast—scrambled eggs, toast, fresh fruit, coffee brewing. He plated it for her, setting it on the island with a kiss to her forehead. “Eat up, baby. You need energy after last night.”