No desperation, no compromises, no rushing because of one looming supernatural disaster after another. All there was right now was him and Freya, and all the building heat and need between them.

Derek looked up at her with a smile that could only be described as wolfish, and proceeded to undo her pants and began drawing them down her legs. Once he'd tossed those aside, he leaned in and pressed a long, heated kiss to the mound under her panties before he slid those off her hips and cast them aside, as well.

Pulling Freya forward a few inches, he lowered his mouth and began to lap at her slit.