With a groan, Derek carefully lifted her—his arms cradling her limp body as he ascended the remaining stairs. Stiles nestled her face into his shoulder, inhaling cedar and sex as he carried her toward the master suite's open French doors. Moonlight spilled across the balcony, illuminating the sprawling gardens below—roses trembling in the night breeze like a sea of velvet under the stars.

Derek pressed her against the wrought-iron railings, the cool metal biting into Stiles's bare back as he kissed her deeply—lips moving slow now, savoring rather than claiming. "Look at you," he murmured against her mouth, hands mapping her waist. "All fucked-out and gorgeous under moonlight." His fingers tangled in hers, pinning them against the railing as he rocked gently into her—already hard again, the glide effortless with their combined slickness.