"But I am." She chuckled, a sultry tone heavy with intent layered her words, and she felt his desire flare. The burning aftertaste was delicious. There was nothing quite like having feelings directed at yourself, even if it was only for the disguise you were wearing. She pressed up against him now, her head tilted up to his as she inched closer. She could feel his hesitation waning, crumbling. He was all too willing to give in to the moment and she pressed her advantage. She felt his hooves go to her withers and she yielded to his grip as he pulled her to himself ever so slowly, an electric tingle of excitement dancing up her form, one reciprocated in the stallion before her. The hairs of his goatee tickled her face, even through the fur of her guise as they shared breath. And it was there, pressed up against his chest, her eyes focused on his own with a deadly intensity, their lips a hair's breadth from one another, that she let her eyes shut and prepared to simply enjoy the act of feeding. She did not see Jacques' own eyes suddenly widen in alarm.