She hasn’t had a partner-assisted orgasm in over a week and a half, and she is just beyond done. She wants to lie down on the cold bathroom floor and cry. Derek is starting to look like a permanently kicked puppy. “Look,” she tells him after dinner, “I love your inner self and your personality or whatever, but can I just tie you up and use your body until I come a couple times?” Derek fumbles the sudsy glass in his hand. “Awesome!” Stiles says brightly.