The cabin felt like a bubble—isolated from the world, just them, fucking like bunnies all day and night. They’d wake up tangled in the rickety bed, Derek already hard, sliding into her pussy slow and deep before breakfast. Mid-morning, he’d bend her over the kitchen table while she tried to make coffee, pounding her rough from behind, calling her his “breakfast slut.” Afternoons by the lake—her on her knees sucking his cock in the shallow water, him fisting her hair and face-fucking her till she gagged, cum spilling down her chin. Evenings on the porch swing, her riding him reverse while the sun set, ass bouncing as he slapped it red. They couldn’t get enough—filthy, desperate, like they were trying to cram a lifetime into two days.

But tomorrow they’d go back. Her wedding to Peter—Derek’s dad—was just two weeks away. The thought hung heavy, making their insides ache, but neither showed it. Derek acted extra playful, cracking jokes, tickling her sides during quiet moments to hear her laugh. Stiles played along, giggling, but her heart twisted—wishing this could last.