Derek crossed the room in three strides.
This kiss was different from the claiming violence of the night before.
It was deeper, hungrier, threaded with the strain of a man holding a second nature in check and choosing to let part of it slip.
His hands framed her face, then slid down her back, pulling her flush against him until there was no space left.
Allison opened for him without hesitation, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, already chasing the heat he offered.
He walked her backward until her thighs met the edge of the table.
One arm swept the notebooks and empty mugs aside.
The other lifted her onto the wood.
He stepped between her knees, still kissing her, and the hard length of him pressed against the soft center of her through too many layers of clothing.
“Tell me to stop,” he said against her mouth, voice rough, “and I will.”
“Don’t you dare.”
A low sound rolled out of his chest.
He stripped the flannel shirt over her head in one motion, then the soft pants, until she sat bare on the table in the cooling evening light.
His gaze raked over her, possessive, approving, edged with gold.
Then he dropped to his knees.
Allison’s head fell back as his mouth found her.
There was nothing tentative in it.
He licked into her like a man starving, hands spreading her thighs wider, holding her open while he worked her with tongue and lips and the careful edge of teeth.
When he sealed his lips around her clit and sucked, she came with a broken cry that he rode out without slowing, drawing every pulse from her until she was shaking.
Only then did he rise, wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, and unfasten his jeans.
He was thick and already slick at the head.
Allison reached for him, but he caught her wrists and pinned them lightly to the table on either side of her hips.
“Stay still,” he ordered.
“I want to feel you take every inch.”
He pushed into her in one slow, relentless thrust that stole her breath.
The stretch was perfect, almost too much, the heat of him branding her from the inside.
When he was seated fully, he held there, forehead against hers, breathing hard.
“Mine,” he growled.
“Yours,” she answered.
He began to move.
The table creaked under the force of it.
Derek fucked her with deep, measured strokes that grew harder as the gold in his eyes brightened.
One hand stayed on her wrist; the other slid under her hips, tilting her so he could drive deeper.
Allison wrapped her legs around him and held on, meeting every thrust, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.
When he lowered his head and bit the side of her throat, not breaking skin, but hard enough to mark, she came again, clenching around him so tightly he cursed and followed, hips stuttering as he spilled into her in thick, hot pulses.
Derek’s hand stroked once down her side, almost gentle.
“Still with me?” he asked, voice quieter.
Allison managed a nod.
“Still with you.”
He eased out of her carefully, then lifted her off the table and carried her to the bedroom as if she weighed nothing.
They cleaned up in the small bathroom with shared towels and limited commentary.
When they returned to the bed, the light outside had gone deep blue.
Derek pulled her against his chest, one arm heavy across her waist, and for a while neither of them spoke.
The radio on the kitchen counter crackled once, then went silent again.
Allison listened to the steady beat of his heart under her ear and thought about the creature that was circling closer every hour.
About the pack that had accepted her presence only because their alpha demanded it.
About the mark she could already feel forming on her throat where his teeth had been.
“Two nights,” she said softly.
Derek’s arm tightened.
“Two nights.
Then we end it.”
Outside, the almost-full moon continued its climb, and the woods waited.