Sunlight poured through the half-open curtains of the suite, painting golden stripes across the tangled sheets and Stiles’s naked body. She stirred slowly, still half-dreaming about the way Derek had ruined her the night before—pussy sore, tits bruised, ass stinging from all the slaps. Then she felt it: strong hands kneading her fat ass cheeks, squeezing hard enough to make the flesh spill between his fingers.

Stiles’s eyes fluttered open. Derek was propped on one elbow beside her, smirking like the devil who’d just won her soul. His dark hair was messy, silver threads catching the light, muscles flexing as he groped her shamelessly.