Joseph had turned out to be a survivor. No one was more surprised by this fact than him. If anything, he could relate to Rhys on that level alone. No one had understood why Sylvia had embraced such a useless dandy. They were more alike than Rhys knew.
He'd very nearly gotten himself under control when Rhys started peppering his face with those sweet, soft kisses. It was more than he could bear.
One surge of motion and Brujah strength and he pinned Rhys to the other side of the sofa with a kiss that was as much fangs as tongue. His blood was even sweeter tonight, if that could be possible.
The thin tee shirt Rhys was wearing tore under his grasp like tissue paper. Joseph pulled out of the kiss to bite down on the side of Rhys' throat. He didn't take much blood, just enough to feel the rush.