For eight nights of the journey, Kateesha tried to tempt Jorick. On the ninth she succeeded. They clawed at one another, fangs snapping, bodies rolling in a barn full of hay. Though she wanted the physical act as well as the immortal blood connection, he pushed her hands away from his trousers, then pinned her to the ground and bit her neck. When the mental connection snapped into place, she no longer cared about their bodies, only the pleasure crashing over her; the red tinted world of screaming fire and burning ecstasy.
When they'd had their fill, she lay back in the hay, chest heaving, gluttonous eyes raking over his body. Though dressed from the waist down, his naked chest gleamed smooth and white, like finely carved marble. The bite in his shoulder still bled; her bite. She touched it, smearing crimson over his chiseled perfection, tracing a line down toward his belly button.