Months slipped by in a blur of stolen ecstasy and deepening obsession. The affair between Stiles and Derek burned hotter with every secret encounter—fucking in the mansion’s hidden corners, quickies in the car during “errands,” long nights in hotel rooms where Derek would wreck her holes until she begged for mercy. Stiles had never felt more alive, her body constantly humming from his touch, her neglected pussy now perpetually satisfied and sore in the best way. Noah remained oblivious, his rudeness and neglect unchanged, while Kate’s jealousy simmered, her rude comments about Stiles’s “glow” dismissed as petty. But Stiles didn’t care; Derek was her world, his cock her addiction, his whispers of love her lifeline.