[labprotocol]

Ky slumped exhausted, rolling carefully to the side to avoid squashing Nym. He pulled the tundra dragon against his chest, touching his horns, mapping the ridges under his fingers. Would their kits have horns, he wondered idly, or would they have a ridged head plate like Ky tapering off to bony points.

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"Everything's fine," Ivy let her muscles relax and kissed Ceral some more, hoping to regain the dichotomy of peace and passion that was good sex. "I was just wondering when you'd be ready for round two." She wiggled a little in emphasis. "And what position we should try when you are." She licked his mouth open, twinning their tongues and teaching him new techniques with her mouth. "You realize you're my mate now," she stated matter of fact as they pulled apart. That wasn't necessarily true. Even if he was baring her clutch that wouldn't automatically make him her mate. Ivan hadn't been, she'd never wanted that with him. But she was hardly giving Ceral a choice in the matter unless he down right against it.