Jesse’s hand kept drifting to his neck as he walked, and every time his fingers touched the bite mark there, he shivered, down to the balls of his feet. If he applied a little bit of pressure, his stomach did a slow somersault, and his groin tightened. It had hurt when Gideon bit him—it had been painful. A vampire bite was always a little painful, but Gideon usually waited until Jesse’s body was flooded with endorphins, his blood and heart racing. Jesse normally didn’t even feel the initial bite, and each pull of blood after that would only heighten his light-headed pleasure until he couldn’t speak.
But a bite by itself was different. It was the sort of pain that Jesse usually shied away from these days. The sort of pain that could trigger unpleasant memories and make him weak and scared and tired. The sort of pain that, just a little over six months ago, he would have begged for, on his hands and knees if Gideon demanded it. And maybe even if he didn’t.