Joseph had been the exact opposite in life. His skirt chasing was well known in the Ton. Partially because it was cover for all of the cocks he was chasing as well. If they were busy being scandalized with his affairs with women, none of them would look too closely at his relationships with men. He'd been fairly useless most of his human life and accomplished absolutely nothing of note.
Everyone was a natural at what came to people naturally. It was merely letting go of the inhibitions that sought to suppress the instincts. Joseph didn't hesitate to take advantage of the lack of resistance, his tongue sliding against Rhys'. The younger Kindred's mouth certainly felt unique, which only made Joseph want to feel it on other parts of his body.
There was nothing rough or scarred about Joseph. While he'd drawn breath, he'd never done a day's work in his life. The most strenuous activity he participated in regularly in involved more than on bed partner at one time. His fingers were as soft and supple as they were strong, like silk over iron.
When Rhys leaned in, cupping his other cheek, Joseph wrapped his arm around his shoulders, drawing him as close as he could as the kiss grew more demanding. His hips bucked of their own accord, his perfectly tailored trousers were becoming tighter as their mouths remained fused and Joseph made a decided effort to stroke his tongue over every ridge and scar in Rhys' mouth.
Not needing to breathe while kissing never stopped being fantastic.