It was only natural that at his core he was warmer. He burned, constantly, simmering and smoking as he breathed. His clothes slipped from him and he stretched out slowly in the dirt, hands settled on Trace's hips and shifted his hips downwards slightly, sinking fingers into skin. "You feel more like the earth," he sighed. More than the mortals who warmed his bed at night.
He tilted his head, drawing a hand up and resting fingertips against Trace's jaw, tilting his head towards him and drawing him into a kiss again and pulling him down with authority and need. This connection that strung them together was still throbbing in his veins and settled in his chest, a heaviness that wasn't stifling, but rather comforting and familiar. Everything about being with Trace felt right. Hot, needy, passionate and right.