A low, crooning rumble was purring deep in Prometheus's chest when Hades walked past him, subconsciously widening his stance and lifting his tail to let Hades inspect him in turn. His wings unfurled, the powerful, thick claws sinking into the sand as he felt that warm tongue drag up along his slit, grunting loudly at the touch. He could feel his insides quiver, the slit loosening in anticipation, a faint, wet sheen already teasing the edges of it.

Oh yes, he was very ready. The tip of his cock was poking out of his sheathe too, and he whined softly, his forelegs bending slightly as he pushed his hindquarters up a bit.

"I'm very ready," he groaned, unconsciously trying to present himself - but a bit difficult with Hades's head resting on his rear like that, "Your fault for making such a nice dick."