Compared to Buffy's smooth skin, Alcide's is rough from working so long in construction. His hands are large and strong, gripping her firmly and at other times, surprisingly gentle. Once he's helped her out of her jumpsuit and pushed his own down to his ankles, their size difference is magnified as he easily lifts her up to leverage her against the wall. He doesn't even need that added strength and adrenaline of the wolf to lift her.

There's nothing between them now, as his arousal slides along the slick already gathered between her thighs. Normally, he might have tried to go slower, to be more gentle, more romantic, to be more himself, but right now that's the last thing on his mind. He's at his basest instincts. Girl pretty. Sex. Fuck. Want. Yes. Now.

Already, he's inside. It's so easy with the both of them wanting the way they do right now. He growls again, kissing, biting, tasting blood and Buffy herself, fucking with a wildness that Alcide might be accustomed to with partners he's familiar with. Tomorrow, he'll know that this was and is different. He's only known Buffy a day and a half, after all. But right now, he's being very much himself, very much the Alpha wolf parts of himself. And as long as Buffy seems okay with that, so is he.