[ His underbelly's soft on a good day, but with freshly-moulted scales it's even more tender and sensitive. Ven finds his nostrils flaring the more that slick firmness presses up between them; just as Vanitas hoped, with the shedding of his whelpish scales has come more physical maturity. Enough for him to begin poking out of his own sheath as he tries to keep from squirming.
It's hard, because his instincts say flatten against the ground but what his body really wants to do is jut forward like Vanitas' is doing. He may be being marked and claimed, but it's not the same sort of domination that would come with actual mating. That involved a lot more biting and pinning. ]
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It's hard, because his instincts say flatten against the ground but what his body really wants to do is jut forward like Vanitas' is doing. He may be being marked and claimed, but it's not the same sort of domination that would come with actual mating. That involved a lot more biting and pinning. ]