"You look so good like this." It's so low it's almost a purr, quiet but rough against Stiles' skin. Derek pushes his thigh back further and drapes Stiles' leg over his shoulder, sinking his teeth into the meat of his thigh with a hungry sort of sound.

There are no fangs, no blood, just the desire to taste Stiles and he drags his tongue over the bitemark, soothing it before biting ride beside it.