He's never been at Jennifer's place before. He doesn't even know why he is standing outside her front door, using his wolf senses to understand if she's inside or not.
Actually, that's a lie: he tracked her smell from school because he's been MIA (again!) for an entire week and he really wants to see her. He needs to see her, and that alone is enough to scare him shitless: that and the fact that she'll probably kill him.
She texted him the first three days, twice a day: she was worried and was getting nervous but, as he proceeded to ignore them all, she stopped.
The last one he received on the forth day read:
"Screw you and your pretty wolf ass."
He was a jerk, I knows that. But how do you explain a very human, very weird bubbly English teacher that you can't go over for dinner because you are currently looking for a way to deceive the same Alphas that kidnapped her three weeks ago? How do you not scare her off when you have fangs and claws and your life constantly involves danger and a very real possibility of death?
You don't, that's why he ignored her. He had to take care of his pack and of all this mess: he didn't have time for humans.
This was a bad idea. A horrible idea. He shouldn't have came here; this is his way out, his chance to avoid any explanation and any stupid conversation with the woman.
He should leave before he gets himself deeper into whatever is going on between him and Jennifer, even if he did fancy her and the way her hands cuddled his body after they got intimate. He loved how she would constantly run her fingers through his hair, caressing him into sleep after sex and laughing silently when he moaned and stirred whenever she stopped.
Ok, the physical part and the emotional softness were great, but there's still the other part of him, the shit his life involves and that is too complicated: she will want to discuss it, to analyze it. She will ask questions and - God forbid - maybe even get emotional about it. And that, he doesn't like.
As he stands there, pondering his options like an idiot, the door opens and she appears in front of him, wearing only a big sized old shirt.
This doesn't help.
"Are you gonna knock or do you want to stay there the whole night?"
His stare moves slowly from her naked and cream-white thighs to her amused face and he is met by a small smirk.
Amusement was definitely not what he was expecting. And he was not ready for a smirk either: a frown, yes. An unreadable face, probably. But an amused smirk was not what he would have guessed
"For a wolf you are not very good at sneaking up. I saw you walking up here half an hour ago…"
At his confusion she points at the huge window of her living room which, conveniently, faces her front garden and that he didn't notice before, being too concentrated on building up the courage to talk to her.
Some werewolf, he is.
"I can be very sneaky!" he finds himself mutter and her grin grows bigger.
"I remember… My bloody car remembers too. But apparently you are losing your touch." she teases, leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed and one of her bare feet playing with the horrible cat that is now caressing her ankle.
He looks at the feline and can't contain a snarl.
"I hate cats."
"He hates you too. But he lives here, so he wins," she says picking up the animal and petting his head "Did you grow the balls to come in yet or you need some more brooding time alone in the dark?"
Derek feels suddenly self-conscious in front of this side of Jennifer he didn't know and he's quite impressed with it. Impressed and aroused, to be honest.
Looking down at her legs and feeling a tingle in his lower stomach, he takes a step towards her:
"I wanna come in… but that," he says pointing to the cat "needs to leave."
"You are in no position to give orders, Derek." and now her voice holds some sort of anger mixed with other emotions.
He meets her eyes again, trying to look remorseful (even if he really isn't that much), and whispers:
"I know…"
At that she puts the cat down on the porch, letting it trot towards the garden, and moves just enough for him to walk in.
He enters the house avoiding her gaze and suppressing the impulse to just turn on his heels and run back to his place.
This is a terrible idea.
Jennifer closes the door behind them and silently moves into her living room, feeling Derek following her: she sits on her black couch, hiding her feel under her body and picking up a half empty glass of red wine.
He stands awkwardly in the middle of the room, his eyes moving around and taking in all the furniture and the object that surround her, not at all surprised when he realizes her house is stuffed with books.
"Are you here for sex?" she asks, sipping her wine calmly, her stare locked on his face.
He's a little taken aback by her sudden roughness and can't help the frown that appears on his face.
He didn't come here for sex. Well, yeah, that too if she was willing, but that's not the main reason he sniffed his way through Beacon Hills until he got here.
"No, of course not."
"Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm fine."
"If you are not bleeding and you don't wanna have sex, then why are you here?"
"Hey!" he snaps, offended by the obvious innuendo hidden in her words and she lifts her eyebrows, an accusation written all over her features.
"I'm waiting…" she challenges, looking at him with an incredible amount of intensity that makes him feel like one of her student.
She must be a scary teacher: he doesn't envy his friends at all if that is the way she looks at them during class.
"I'm sorry." he breaths out after a long silent minute and lets his shoulder fall, a huge weight finally lifted from his keeps starting at him unimpressed before she gulps the last drops of her drink and rests the glass on the floor.
"That's all?" she then questions, doing nothing to hide the annoyance in her tone "You are sorry?"
Derek lifts his head, mouth open and eyes wide, and watches her confused.
Yeah, he is sorry. Is there something else he was supposed to say?
"You are sorry. Ok, fine, awesome. You can go now."
"What… Why?"
"Oh, it's not what you expected?"
"Why are you doing this? I said I'm sorry!"
Now he's getting angry. She's just being difficult because she knows he feels bad, and that gets on his nerves.
"Well, sorry is not enough this time, Mr. Alpha."
"What do you wanna me to say?!"
"How should I know? I have no idea what you've been doing for the last seven days. I would, if you actually took one second to fucking write me that you were busy."
"I WAS busy!"
"I know that, you jerk! I know you had more important things to do."
"Then why are you being so difficult?"
"Oh, excuse me, should I take my panties off first?
"Jennifer… " he growls, frustrated and hurt that she keeps implying he is there for sex.
He is not.
"Derek, I thought you were dead." her voice is now more powerful and she just moves in front of him, poking his chest with her tiny index.
"No, you didn't." he says back and has to gulp down a grin at the gasp of indignation that comes from her.
"You knew I wasn't dead. You saw the kids at school, you would have known if I were dead."
Her lips press in a thin line and she lifts her chin up, suddenly silent.
"Asshole…" she murmurs as she crosses her arms in front of her in a gesture that shows how closed off she is at the moment.
"Listen, I'm sorry if I scared you and I'm sorry I didn't answer your text, but I had to take care of other things."
She doesn't speak for a while, taking in his words but still avoiding his eyes and he is even more sure that coming here was the worst idea ever.
"Let's have sex."
"Let's... Wh—What?"
"I feel like it would be easier for me to forgive you if we just had sex first…" she offers dropping her arms.
It makes no sense, he wants to point that out, but she moves until her chest is touching his, and he doesn't want to talk anymore.
Her expression is still dark and, as she cradles his head he senses her tension; even if he's sure she will use this against him again later, he really wants to kiss and hold her and he is craving her hands smoothing his skin lazily after sex, so he just gives in and slips his fingers under her ass, lifting her easily as he starts walking around the living room.
She buries her face in his neck, breathing him in and locking her wrists around his neck: her body relaxing on his with every intake of his scent, her fingers fisting the neck of his shirt and dragging it up until she can take it off.
Derek looks right and left, wondering what direction he should take, but gets soon distracted by her lips touching his shoulder and sucking slowly as her thighs tighten around his waist, caressing his skin with heat and softness.
She runs her nails through his hair briefly, to which he responds closing his eyes, because he just can't wait for her to caress him more.
If only he could figure out what the right door is!
Jennifer bites down gently on his flash and he can't stop himself from asking:
"Where the fuck is your bedroom?!" savoring her laugh at his anticipation, before she softly whispers in his ear:
"Just do me on the table…"
He squeezes her ass possessively when he spots the huge dinner table at his left, walking them towards it and suddenly realizing that, after all, coming here was probably a terrific idea.
He got tired of the table pretty soon: it was too fucking cold and whenever he bent to kiss her body, she would slip a little out of the way or he would bump into one of the legs.
Note to himself: her table sucks.
She's half naked - well, more then half, she's just wearing her panties now - and he still needs to get rid of most of his own clothes, but he keeps getting distracted by the way her skin smells, how her scent changes every time she swallows a moan and he feels like he really needs to taste her every single time, just to see if her taste changes too.
"Derek, enough with the teasing!" she protests moving her hands to grab at his belt and he ducks them, chuckling.
"Stop it!" she moans, breathing faster when he softly bites right next her bellybutton before licking his way up to her breasts.
He's holding on her hips, but her stupid table trembles every time he tries to grind into her and that is unacceptable: he needs to feel himself against her, to steal the heat out of her body into his own, to press himself into her until she drags her nails along his back - because, God, how he loves when she does that and leaves deep marks that don't last longer then their aftermath.
"Fucking table…" he murmurs into her cleavage, his hands slipping under her to lock on her lower back.
"Tell me where the bedroom is…"
"I like it here…" she pants as she slowly runs her knees up his hips to his waist, circling it with her legs and pulling him in. The table moving once again.
"I don't. I can't get near enough. This stupid thing keeps moving and it's driving me nuts."
"It helps the swing." she jokes driving his mouth to a breath from hers, looking straight into his eyes, 'thought she doesn't kiss him. She has been avoiding his lips ever since he picked her up.
"It doesn't. It takes you away when I try to touch you," he mutters, breathing her in when her aroused scent brings his inner wolf to life, "it's cockblocking me!"
He tires to push his mouth on hers, hoping to taste her and to finally caress his tongue against hers, yet she turns her head to the side: he lands once again on her jaw, so he settles for nipping at her, expressing his disapproval.
"Kiss me…" he whispers on her skin, gently guiding her head towards him and making his way up to her mouth.
"Nope." she bites back stubbornly, which makes his wolf angry, eyes narrowing with his disappointment.
"Why not?"
"Because I'm mad at you."
He's almost pouting now, his lips pushed out a little: she just grins delighted and can't stop herself from pecking him once. Twice.
"That's all you will get tonight."
It's not enough.
He longs for her wet, smooth tongue and for the way she sucks on his lower lip right before biting it when he touches a sensitive spot on her body.
No kissing is not ok. No kissing is absolutely unacceptable.
He murmurs in her ear that he really needs to taste her, pulling her torso up just enough for it to melt against his own and she shivers.
God, her skin is burning up with heat and he really, really wants to press all of her against his body and feed on her heat.
"Jennifer…" he groans when she pushes the both of them up and he can finally rub his pelvis against hers, letting his forehead fall on her shoulder, before he drags his fingertips along her skin.
"We need to get rid of those jeans." her voice is small while her hands finally loop through his belt, unbuckling it before she unzips his pants with one hand.
She caresses him gently through the fabric of his boxers: he literally whines at her touch, his skin feeling both hot and cold, his blood boiling at the mere thought of her.
"Did you miss me? 'Cause I really missed you." she teases, the tip of her tongue licking his earlobe while one of her hands curls around the base of his neck and the other presses delicately against his erection: his voice dies in the deep of his throat, only letting him produce a profound growl.
Derek grinds sightly in her hand and the table shifts for the last time before her tightens his arms around her naked waist and barks:
"Left or right?"
"You really want to give up table sex?"
"I really want to have sex with you and your stupid table makes it impossible. So either you take me to your bed or I'll just put you on the floor." Derek snaps, his digits grabbing hard at her hips as he unconsciously flashes her his bright red Alpha eyes.
The moment he feels the heat burning in his orbs he regrets it, fearing her reaction, but Jennifer lifts her perfectly shaped eyebrows before she pushes harder against his body.
"Mmhh… bossy. I like bossy. But don't think that just because-"
"Stop talking, Jen."
He orders, his breath hot on her collarbone and his arms strong around her waist as he brutally lifts her from the table, demanding that she wraps her legs around him.
"Now: where were we?"
"You were being all cave man on me."
He chuckles at that, because he kind of was being a little animalistic, but his body was asking far more action and a lot less conversation.
When she squirms in his arms he balances her until he can keep her up using only one arm.
Jen is now suppressing a laugh, burying her face in his left shoulder while she tangles her nails in his dark hair.
His right hand slides lazily along her skin, traces the road from her thigh to her lower back before he moves to the front, caressing her stomach lightly until he finds her breast. He pauses there, massaging it gently for a while and swiping his thumb on her nipple; the small suppressed groan he gets from her goes straight to his groin and, before he knows what he is doing, he has slammed her on the wall, pushing his hungry hips into hers.
The fabric of their underwear is not enough to block the pure pleasure coming from the friction and, through the material, he can still feel how slick and hot she is.
Jennifer legs tighten violently around his waist as he grinds once again in her, desperate for more of that blinding bliss: he's pressing her against the wall with his body and can now let his hands roam her.
He really wants to bite her, eat her with kisses and teeth until she is almost a part of him: no matter how much he sucks on her skin and moves his chest on hers, he feels like he can't get near enough.
He wants more. He wants her. All of her.
He needs to be buried inside her body, to know that he's the only one allowed there and that her hot breaths mixed with desire are only for his ears.
His jeans are still hanging open on his hips, the belt slamming every now and then against her thighs with every begging thrust her gives her, lost in the feeling of her wetness dripping thought her panties to his own until it warms his cock, making it twitch with want.
She still hasn't allowed him to kiss her, which makes his mouth water even more: the thought of her plump lips, an impossible arouse.
Derek feels as she runs that mouth on his beard, rubbing their faces together in the most seducing gesture, as if she is caressing him somewhere else. He imagines her reproducing that same movement against his navel, her mouth tracing his skin gently, hiding in his pelvic hair: the thought alone is enough to make him push his hips against her hard, trying to slip in her throughout the tissues that still separate them.
She gasps, and there's pain in that sound and he is sorry, he really is, but he can't control his body as it begs for her.
"Easy…"
"I'm sorry… I just…" his voice dies there on the skin of her throat, as he tries to calm his pulse and stop the heat that is blinding his mind.
He stills then, keeps her pressed against the wall but attempts to slow everything down: his hands on the wall next to her head and his forehead on her lips.
His heart is beating at an impossible speed, pumping blood straight to his lower body as his senses are blocked by her scent, her heat, her softness.
Jennifer breaths out heavily, hugging him gently and caressing his back to help him relax.
"What do you need?" she asks in a small voice, her lips touching the skin of his forehead in tiny kisses as her breath heats it.
"You."
His answer is honest, probably stupid, but it's all his flash craves and all his cells can see.
Her right hand leaves his back and slides down his waist, his hips, moving to the front between them and dipping in his underwear: her touch is so gentle, so smooth against the sensitive skin of his erection. He swallows a groan, savors the feeling of her massaging him when she lowers his boxers enough to free him without stopping her motion.
"You got me?" she asks and he nods against her chin, reassuring her that he won't drop her.
Derek lets his eyelids fall slowly, loosing himself in her touch and comforted by the calm of her breath: still caressing him, she shifts a little as her free hand finds its way to her own underwear and pulls it aside. He can smell her with much more intensity now and inlaying her scent is so overwhelming he has to clench his jaws to stop his fangs from showing and actually sink them in her flesh.
Her lips sweet on his forehead as she mumbles something he doesn't even hear: she's everywhere around him, confusing his thoughts and making him feel so fucking alive.
Jennifer moves her head to the left, letting his fall flat against the wall behind her as he breaths deeply with every gentle stroke of her hand: he can feel his wolf teeth fighting against his will to have control, longing for her skin and containing his primitive self is getting harder every minute. But then she shifts with caution against him and it's so good his whole body trembles, arms lowering against the wall until he can cradle her head in his hands, grazing her cheeks with his thumbs and lifting his face to meet her eyes.
But then she guides him to her core, slips the tip inside a little and he feels all of his human strength dissipate as the pleasure runs from where they meet to his chest: it's almost painful, his heart stopping before it starts bumping faster and faster. He stays motionless only a little in her, her digit stroking the length of him tenderly and he thinks he's on the verge of giving into his Alpha self.
"Stop…" he begs, his voice quivering.
"Why?"
He doesn't know what is wrong with him: he is inside her, he has her, she is asking for more and he just acts like a shy teen ager.
"C'mon, Derek. Stop worrying so much and just enjoy this."
Problem is, if he really lets himself enjoy this, his wolf will come out and bite her: literally bite down on her stomach to mark her, to taste as much as possible, to make her his. But he is a fucking Alpha and if he bites her, he turns her and that is out of discussion.
The tension in his body is back at its highest pick: all he can do is let her kiss his ear-shell as she licks her way to a sensitive spot on his neck, sucking right there.
"Do you really want me to stop?"
Fuck, no. He doesn't.
He pushes his hips further into her, finally fulfilling all of his needs: she's everywhere around him. And he missed her. Oh God, he definitely missed her.
Keeping her against the wall and his wolf in control is too much now that he's deep in her body and Jennifer notices as his legs give out a little.
"The bedroom is on your right…" she offers then, caressing his hair slowly and meeting his eyes: they are red again and she should be terrified, yet all she does is smile at him.
"Is this your wild side, Hale?"
"You have no idea."
"Show me more…"
He would love to do that but he doesn't think that's a good idea: to be honest he's never let his wolf side free in times like this and he's not sure how things would go.
But he doesn't tell her that.
He rubs the bridge of his nose along her jawline and drops a kiss on her temple as he touches her legs to untangle them, putting her back on her feet: in the process he slides out, shivers at the instant feeling of loss that creeps on his skin and hears her groan at the separation.
This is bad: he shouldn't be already this attached to her and he definitely shouldn't be this needy. His life is a mess and he is responsible for several teenagers he brought into this reality; he doesn't have the luxury to be vulnerable and this involved with a woman. A human. A girl that probably needs more then he can give her, even if he's not sure what his limit is.
Would it be really that bad if he actually felt like he belonged? If, for once, he opened up and stopped feeling like he has to be strong and serious?
Jennifer laces her fingers with his, pressing their palms together and enveloping their joined hands with her other as she smirks at him, walking backwards in the direction of what he assumes is her room. She catches his orbs again when her tongue slips between her lips to lick them, wetting them enough to kill the air in his lungs as he imagines to feel them on him.
He watches her, taking in every inch of her soft skin and hating the fact that it's not attached to his but, as they enter her room, he takes the time to drink her figure in, memorizing every line of her.
She's beautiful, standing there and suddenly looking a little shy as his gaze roams her entire form with an unreadable expression.
"Stop staring, it's making me uncomfortable."
He smiles at that, a real big and bright smile, because she lets go of his hand, tries to cover her breast for a second and her cheeks turn pink. He loves that too.
He loves that she's bubbly, vocal and confused most of the time; he likes when she squirms under his gaze as if he held some sort of power over her. He's amused by the millions layers her personality seams to hide, as if she was a book he could discover page by page. He just wants to smile at how awkward she acts around him but at the same time, as she relaxes, she opens up to him, suddenly perfectly at ease with everything he is and deals with.
And he adores how wild and passionate she lets herself be when they get rid of everything, melting in each other as they get intimate, just like before. She was so demanding, so uncontrolled.
So free.
Meeting her eyes he feels his chest fill with pleasure, fallowing her as she crawls backwards on her bed, her palms pressed against the comforter and her knees bent to help her slide further into the mattress.
"Come here," she hums crooking a smile "I'm cold."
It only takes him a couple of steps to reach her and soon he's hovering her, pushing her until she's spread on the bed under him, their noses touching lightly and her delighted smile alive in her gaze.
He grazes his crotch on her panties and rolls his eyes when he realizes they still need to get rid of their fucking clothes, making her laugh out loud, a sound that brings the corner of his mouth up in a small grin.
He hooks his fingers in her underwear and actually rips them apart, unwilling to move from her body for the millionth time: he's perfectly fine where he is.
As he pushes his nails in the flash of her hips he senses her legs part, her feet sliding up until they find the waist of his jeans: she stops them there before she snicks first her toes inside, then both feet, pressing the plant to his skin and drags his clothes down along his lower body in a painfully slow motion.
"I'm still mad at you."
"Don't be, because I'm even sorrier for neglecting you now."
"Only because you want to fuck me."
"That, I definitely do." he breaths as his hips meet hers with longing and he caresses his length through her folds, hot and dripping wet around him, welcoming and soft.
She gasps at the contact, letting her head fall and exposing her stretched neck: the skin there so tender and seducing that he feels his fangs tug on his lips again, desperate to taste her.
He squeezes his eyes, parting his lips a little and lets his tongue glide on her jugular, absorbing the way her blood throbs in her arteries; the head of his sharp teeth scratching a little on her epidermis and making her whimper soflty.
The sound goes fast to his wolf and he's invaded once more by the impulse, the need to bite her and he hears his voice confessing it to her.
She reacts by digging her nails in his back, her breath a deep sob, her hips urging against his: at that his mind goes blank for a second.
Derek's arms slink under hers, his palms grabbing at her shoulders when she caresses her chin on his neck and he rolls his lower body into hers with so much more pleasure.
Blocking the oxygen in his lungs he gains control over his fangs and drags them back in, yet the desire to nip at her is still there.
He's quivering in her arms, sunk in his own sensations, his breath rugged and coming out in short shake of air.
"Do it... Just do it, Derek." she says gently, running a hand on his scalp and his heart swells with gratitude and emotion.
But he can't: he doesn't know if biting her with his human teeth will be enough to satiate his hunger and he's scared he will loose control over those fangs. He can't risk it, because if those Alpha teeth come out, he will be giving her the Bite, and he won't do that. Not again. Not to her.
Pushing himself up on his elbows he finds her eyes and bents his head to hers.
"No, just..." his nose rubs on her lips, parting them sightly, set to ignore her protest.
"What?"
"Nothing." he moans back while one of his hands moves to her thigh, pulling it until she lifts her knees and he can feel her lower lips open against him, the heat irradiated from her pelvis a sweet invitation.
He is so tempted to go down there and taste her, but he has reached his breaking point and fears he will come just rubbing against her if he doesn't speed this up.
He wants her, now, no more foreplay. No more teasing or worries about his animalistic self.
And definitely no more "no kisses" rules.
He lifts himself for a minute, picking up his jeans to grab a condom and fumbling with its envelope as she runs her fingertips up and down his stomach, patiently waiting for him to roll it on.
He pushes her back and follows until they are back to their previous position; then, rubbing himself against her, he finds her entrance and in an agonizing slow thrust, he pushes in her, his senses suddenly lost in the feeling of her enveloping him again.
It feels like heaven. It feels like being complete.
It feels a little like home.
Jennifer sobs as he buries deeper in her body as her arousal travels to his nostrils: she rocks her body a couple of times, adjusting at the new sensation of him in her and her nails scratch his cheeks before they grab at his hair.
He feeds on the noises she makes, driving out of her softly before he starts moving with a lazy and delicate rhythm.
He really thought he just wanted to take her rough and fast, but sliding against her smooth walls he discovers he wants to take it slow, to drag the pleasure, to stretch it in time and relish how she reacts to him. To having him inside.
To them.
"I missed you," she mumbles as they rock together and he lifts his mouth until it hovers her.
"Still mad at me?"
"Yes..." she groans before he dips further, circling his hips a little and rubbing his navel against her clit.
"You sure?" he teases, sucking on her chest before he kisses his way back to her face.
"Positive."
She pushes on his chest, demanding to be the one in control, but he doesn't oblige: he needs to possess her at his own terms. Maybe he just wants to have the power, to show her he does care, to tell her in the only way he can, because he doesn't know how to use his words.
She's here, spread under him completely exposed and free. She wants him, she's not afraid or impressed by how socially awkward he is.
And he wants her too. Not just the sex.
He could get it somewhere else, if he wanted. If he had time.
But as he pulls in and out of her almost imperceptibly, he realizes it's not just the physical comfort he gets from her: his motion has reduced to a gentle rocking, losing himself in what she is and in what she is giving to him.
Affection. Passion. Caring.
She clenches her walls around him once, smiling happily when a growl erupts from his chest; her smile infectious.
He kisses her then: dips his head to her and presses their mouths together, parting hers instantly to get to drawn in her taste.
At first she fights him, pulling at his hair and whining, yet soon her protest turns into a strangled groan and her lips respond to the kiss, his tongue massaging hers at the same rhythm of his hips.
It doesn't take long for her to finally give in, her body soon tense as she comes around him, her toes curling and pressing down on his ass and pinning him crazy deep in her: her walls squeezing him and dragging him to his orgasm and, as he listens to his body, he can't tell where she starts and he ends.
"Holy shit!" she grunts as the wave of her pleasure keep crashing, laughing out loud at herself and he kiss her again, a snort escaping his throat.
God, she is amazing.
When she breaks the kiss he takes the time to stare deep in her smiling eyes: there are tears of delight and satisfaction there, her curls tangled and furred because of his hands, her cheeks impossibly pink with heat and the giggle is slowly dying in chest.
He is sure she is the most gorgeous thing he's seen in years.
"How stupid can you be to deprive both of us of that?" she jokes hitting his shoulder and clenching her walls around his cock, still in her as it slowly softens.
"A real idiot." he murmurs back, touching his lips on her neck and sinking his face there, his hole body relaxed on her.
He doesn't know how long he stays there, laid on her, inhaling her scent and listening as her heart slows down after her orgasm: his eyes close tiredly and her hands move up and down his back, calming his own ragged breath and dropping small kisses on his shoulder.
When he worries he might be crashing her, he rolls off onto his side, pulling her towards his chest to be able to touch his lips to her neck, because it smells and tastes so fucking good.
"Can we talk?" her fingers have found their way to his hair as she speaks, tugging at it gently before she resumes her delicate massage through them.
He nods.
"I don't know a single thing about this werewolf life you have and I seriously hate to sound like a whiny teenager..."
"I'm surrounded by teenagers, it's nothing new to me."
She pauses then, choosing her next words with caution, possibly scared that he will get up and leave again; he regrets her uncertainty, because he's the reason she feels insecure.
"If this is all you want, I can deal with it. I'm not saying I'm happy sex is all you want, but I can be okay with it."
"It's not."
She stays silent again, as if she doesn't fully believe him, before she adds:
"I care about you, Derek. I know it's fast, I know it's girly, but I really care about you."
Deep breath.
"I want you."
"I want you too." he whispers honestly on her skin, tightening his arms around her.
"I didn't come here for sex... I mean, thank God it was included, because it was-"
"Fucking awesome?"
He chuckles at her suggestion, nodding slightly.
"Pretty much. But I wanted to see you."
"Me and my vagina?"
"What's gotten into you? I had no idea you could be this obscene."
His joke dies in her hair before she sneaks out of his embrace, pushing him on his back and straddling his lap.
"I can be very obscene if I want to. Don't assume that being a teacher makes a prude out of me."
"Oh, you are anything but a prude." Derek says back, grabbing at her naked waist and maneuvering her till she's flat and abandoned on his chest.
"I can't promise you I won't do something like this again, Jennifer... disappearing, I mean. But I do care, ok? I want to get to know you, I need you to know me better, too. But I don't want you to be a part of this."
"I stood at your door while you fought all wolfed out with and extremely hot shewolf. I think I'm already in it."
"That was a mistake. I need to know you are safe."
"Meaning you will keep me in the dark?"
"No, but sometimes I won't even think about telling you... I'm not used at things like this." he explains pointing between the two of them as she nips at his nude torso.
"And what about you? Will you be safe?"
"No, probably not. I do want to be with you, but you have to know that sometimes I will be in danger and moody and wild. I'm not boyfriend material..."
At that Jennifer lifts her head and locks her gaze with his: dips her mouth until it catches his, kissing him with everything she has, before she says softly but surely:
"You are perfect material for me. That's all we need," rubbing their nose together, "am I good material for you?"
He smiles; his first real huge full-teeth smile in years, feels it reach his eyes and then land to his heart.
"You definitely are."
She sucks her bottom lip in and the delight on her face brings a joke out of him:
"But your cat isn't!"
Then she crashes her own smile on his, rising an unusual sense of belonging in his stomach.
He stays the night, keeping her engulfed in his arms, pressed against his naked body. He loses himself in her touch, making love to her twice in the darkness, feeling safe as well as free. He sleeps with his ear against her breast while her fingers caress the tension and the fear out of his mind, smoothing his broken soul and pouring calm in his flesh.
Tonight he gave her an apology, fallowed by a promise.
She gave him affection and peace.
They gave themselves to each other, something he always longed for but never hoped to have.