“No, it wouldn’t.” He wouldn’t argue with Gideon. If he said Jesse could take more, then he could. And he would. Because the decision wasn’t Jesse’s to make. He opened his mouth again, but before he spoke, Gideon dragged his tongue across his split skin, wiping the blood away. Whatever else Jesse was going to say was totally forgotten, and he slumped against Gideon’s arm.
He stayed like that while Gideon coaxed the blood out of the cuts scoring his shoulders. When he reached the edge of the steel collar, he eased his tongue beneath the metal, but quickly growled in frustration.
“As pretty as it is, that has to go, too.”
Cool air stung the circlet of punctures in his neck when Gideon removed the collar, almost immediately replaced by the soft suction of his mouth. He was careful with his
