She does fall back on the table when directed, but jolts up halfway once his tongue connects to her flesh. She cries out in pure ecstasy when he delves deeper inside her, hands falling to his head to pull him in closer, never let him go.

She wants to scream at him for not having any hair she can tug onto, but the only screams that come out are wordless, filled with passionate desire - definitely not angry. If she was joking about all this before, teasing him as some joke, she's definitely not now, and her hips rock the smallest bit against his lips, knees tugging his shoulders in closer, needing just more and more and more like a greedy kitten.

"Damn it, Stiles," she moans out, laying back down on the desk, hands falling on each of her breasts. "You're sure you're a - fuck - virgin?"