WARNING! THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DUB CON BORDERING ON NON CON. IT IS MOST DEFINITELY M. IT IS ALSO COMPLETELY UNECESSARY TO READ THIS CHAPTER. EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW IS COVERED IN THE NEXT ONE.

Jackson tried to remember what had happened. He remembered getting grabbed. He remembered a growl in his ear. Derek. The last thing he remembered was the leash being torn from his neck. He woke naked, sitting against a wall. Derek paced in front of him like a caged animal. Jackson tried to move and cried out, looking up to see both wrists speared on a scrap of metal sticking from the cratered concrete.
"What do you want?" he questioned weakly, desperation beginning to sink in. Derek's answering smile was vicious.
"I need protection. We're going to mate." Jackson's jaw dropped open at that. His dick gave a little jerk in his lap, already liking the idea.
"That is so not happening," Jackson said, a definite note ringing in his tone. There was no fucking way. Derek's smile didn't diminish in the slightest. His gaze dropped lower and lower until it lingered on Jackson's crotch. Jackson flushed.
"The animal in you disagrees." He stepped closer, crouching next to Jackson. "And you don't have a choice." Jackson's mind raced. Both Stiles and Peter thought he was with the lacrosse team. So did his parents. They wouldn't know he was missing for three days. At least. His heart stuttered in his chest. "I know exactly what you're thinking about," Derek taunted, "and you're right. No one knows you're here. Just you…and me…and this dilemma." Jackson reached for a bravery he didn't feel.
"No." He couldn't mate with the enemy. Every instinct in him screamed against it. Derek leaned in, licking a long line up his throat.
"Yes." Jackson shuddered, pain radiating down his arms. Blood headed south and for a moment Jackson couldn't breathe. A small moan escaped.
"Let me go," he tried breathing shallowly. Derek shook his head back and forth.
"Just do it," Derek breathed, raw heat emanating from his body. Jackson whimpered.
"N-no," he barely managed the word. He wanted to tug on his wrists again but he knew it was useless. He'd already lost so much blood. It was thick in his hair, sticky on his skin. His entire body was drawn tight, the pain was unbearable.

Derek sat on his thighs, fingertips trailing over Jackson's chest. He licked them clean, growling at the salt of Jackson's sweat.
"Do it," he repeated, fingers stroking over Jackson's cock, lingering at the bulge near the base. "Do it and I'll let you come. I'll let you come for days." Jackson's eyes squeezed closed, more sweat beading on his forehead.
"Why," he panted shallowly, "why are you doing this to me?"
"Simple," Derek said, breathing in his ear, "I need leverage."
"I don't want this." Derek smirked.
"That would be obvious by the way you're still holding out. Which would be admirable by the way, if I couldn't go like this for days." Jackson's face contorted as the first tears slipped out.
"Please," he begged, "please just let me go." In response Derek grazed his teeth along Jackson's throat.
"Mm. No." Jackson's throat contracted and worked as he tried to howl. Nothing came out. "This can go so much easier," Derek soothed. "I fuck you, we bite each other, done and done."
"No," Jackson whined. "I don't want to be your mate. I won't do this."
"Oh Jackson. You don't say no to me." Derek stood and stopped just in front of Jackson's face. He opened his jeans and shoved them out of the way. His fingertips grazed Jackson's lips almost kindly before yanking his jaw open. "You bite me I'll kill you," Derek warned before shoving his cock past Jackson's lips. Jackson wriggled desperately, pulling at his wrists and screaming, the sound vibrating around Derek's flesh. He groaned softly. Spit was leaking past Jackson's lips and he pulled back, giving a brief reprieve.
"Okay," Jackson cried, "okay. I'll do it. Just stop. Please stop."
"Good choice Jacks." Derek pulled both of Jackson's wrists off the exposed metal to give them a chance to heal. Jackson gave another soft cry, tears sliding down his cheeks. Derek walked backwards and kicked off his shoes before shedding his jeans. He lifted Jackson easily, kissing his mouth in a symbol of pure ownership. He dropped him onto the table, lining up immediately. He took Jackson's neck in his right hand, moving his left to Jackson's straining erection, the flesh an angry red.

Jackson whimpered again, bucking forward, his eyes closed. "Gonna be so good," Derek muttered, "you're gonna do exactly what I say." Jackson didn't respond. He was beyond speech. His teeth dug into his lip, drawing blood easily, as Derek shoved himself inside. He didn't make a noise at the pain, still crying silently. Derek groaned and stopped before he made it. Jackson was too tight. "Fucking relax," Derek commanded. Jackson managed a watery glare, flexing his fingers as his wrists finally sealed back up.
"Hate you," he grunted.
"I don't give a fuck. Take the rest of my dick or I'll make this even worse for you."
"Fucking bigger," Jackson complained. "I can't…" Suddenly Derek's thumbs were on him, rubbing and pulling the ring of muscle. He growled deep in his chest, holding Jackson open and pushing the rest of the way in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking…bastard," Jackson chanted, jaw clenched. Derek didn't listen, grinding against him. Jackson reached for his own erection, absolutely desperate for release. More desperate than he'd ever been for anything in his entire life. More desperate than he was for oxygen. If he could just come before dying from lack of oxygen he thought that would be okay. He cried out again when Derek smacked his hand away.
"You absolutely do not come before me," Derek said, eyes burning blue straight through Jackson's.
"You're killing me," Jackson returned. He was barely exaggerating.
"Makes my life easier then," Derek returned, smile predatory. Jackson shoved at him uselessly. Derek wasn't coming out until he returned to normal size. They both knew it. He pulled himself closer, wincing. One hand wound into Derek's hair and he pulled himself closer.
"I can't wait for my alpha to tear you apart," he growled. Derek yanked his hand away before backhanding him so hard Jackson fell back seeing stars and tasting blood. Still attached Derek came with him. He landed hot on top of him, waiting a short moment before jerking his hips again.

Jackson closed his eyes again and gritted his teeth. He just had to wait it out. He clenched the lower half of his body experimentally, tempted to smile when Derek groaned. He shouldn't be glad he was pleasing Derek. He should be trying to take his head off. But Derek was stronger. He had Jackson in an incredibly compromising position. The most compromising position possible. All Jackson could do was try to make it end. He squeezed again, tugging Derek's head down to his and kissing him hard. Derek gave a surprised groan, his hands landing on Jackson's hips hard enough to bruise. Jackson moaned against Derek's lips. God he needed him to finish. He needed it. "What do you need?" he groaned, panting for air. "Tell me what to do and I'll do it…anything. Fuck. Derek please."
"Being a good bitch now?" Jackson groaned noncommittally, wanting to rip his head off again. "Say it," Derek growled, grabbing Jackson's face suddenly. "Tell me what a good bitch you are Jacks." Jackson felt himself flush, hands clenching.
"No," Jackson grunted. Derek reached between them, grabbing the bundle of flesh at the base of his cock. He squeezed mercilessly. Jackson arched off the table in sheer panic and pain.
"I didn't catch that," he spat. Jackson's mouth fell open as gracelessly as possible. He thought his eyes would shoot right out of his head. Or his entire body would explode.
"Stop," he wheezed, "stop."
"Say it," Derek repeated, leaning even closer. Jackson lasted another two seconds.
"I'm good," he managed, throat collapsing, "I'm a good bitch," he finished, shuddering when Derek released him so he could speak again. He laid back against the table, tears still sliding down his cheeks.

Derek leaned over him, inhaling deeply along his throat, still thrusting shallowly inside of him. He bit through the skin, groaning again. Jackson moaned. Derek lifted his head, mouth stained red.
"Do it," he breathed, offering his neck. Jackson felt his teeth lengthening at the suggestion alone. He knew he had to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He held off one more second, closing his eyes, and bit into Derek's neck. Derek's blood slipped into his mouth, raw and earthy at the same time. Jackson let it slide over his tongue, losing all focus. He felt Derek explode inside him and cringed. He'd never felt anything like it. His mouth fell away from Derek and he let lose a howl, only then realizing Derek was already howling. Derek's eyes faded from blue to hazel and he blinked slowly. Jackson was fairly sure he started crying again as Derek pulled out, stretching him again.
"Please," he whispered, singeing need still tearing through his body. "Please Derek."
"On your knees," Derek said, stepping back.
"What?" Jackson croaked. Derek took hold of an ankle and yanked him off the table.
"On your knees. I won't say it again." Jackson struggled to his knees, breath hissing out as his painful erection swung against his thighs. Derek stepped close again. "Clean me off." Jackson stared up at him in disbelief.
"Derek please…"
"We both know I can make you," Derek warned coldly. Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes before dropping his hand. This wasn't his life. This couldn't fucking be his life.

He opened his mouth tentatively, slipping his tongue out before leaning forward. The white smears were thick and salty. Jackson nearly gagged. Derek's hand on his chin pulled him up, stopping him easily. "You're my mate. Take care of me." Jackson wondered if that was supposed to swing both ways. He doubted it. The words took effect and warmth swept through him. He moved Derek's hand and went back to work, half a smile at his lips. He wasn't sure what exactly Derek had done to him. It wasn't so bad anymore. He didn't stop lapping at the skin and sucking until Derek tasted clean. Derek pulled him up by the wrist, eyes unreadable. "Good," he allowed, one hand finally encircling Jackson's cock. Jackson swayed against him as his knees threatened to give out.
"I'm just gonna get you messy again," he mumbled, eyelids heavy. Why was he thinking about that? Derek cut off his protest with his mouth, stroking quickly. His fingers played over the knot expertly, pinching and rolling. Jackson was already so close. All he needed was one last- It finally hit. His entire chest constricted before collapsing. Pleasure rolled through him in thick heavy waves, blindingly hot and sweet. Jackson was falling and everything faded out. He woke up sprawled on the ground. Derek was by the wall, fastening his belt. He spared Jackson a glance as he sat up.
"Get home," Derek said simply.
"My clothes," Jackson whispered haltingly, eyes flickering to the shredded masses of fabric. Derek smiled darkly.
"Run fast."