it's a brilliant moment of pure sensation- close to the high he got from drinking Locus' blood, from the change- but it is all too brief and he's pulling away. Taylor whimpers despite himself, head still tipped back, throat bared for more. More?

No, then he'd have to eat again and hunting twice in one night is-

His thoughts are still scattered and even Delta can't help him arrange them, preoccupied by the sensations. "Better than being shot."

His voice is low, wrecked, and god he needs either a cigarette or an orgasm, one or the other.