"That day with Danny. I wanted you to look. I wanted to feel your eyes on me and know you were thinking about what I looked like undressed the rest of the way. That's -- at least half of why I slammed your head against the steering wheel. Because I didn't want to be your cousin, and I didn't want to be a bargaining chip. I wanted to be stripping down so you could see me."

He's panting against Stiles' mouth now, breathless from the kisses and from admitting things he'd kept bottled up for so long. How stupidly jealous he kept getting from the ridiculous things Stiles did, the way he looked at Lydia sometimes. Slackjawed, like he was in the presence of a goddess. And how badly he wanted Stiles to look at him that way.

"I'm all yours. And you are so, so mine. I want to take you back to that club and show everyone. Dance with you, kiss you on the dance floor. Bring you to the bathroom and come back out with marks all over our necks so people know exactly what we were doing."