The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Clay doesn't know how much time has passed, nor how many times he's spilled himself. All he knows is that he's still being rocked by the thrusts of the man behind him and the fact his body feels like moss. He's too tired, too weak, and the only reason he's still standing is because of the beast still holding hip upright. He tries to talk, to sour words, but his tongue is once again dry from hanging out of his jaws. It's only when he pulls it back in and waits that he's able to finally voice his opinions.

"Y-you never shut up, don't you?" He grunts out, "You're so full of yourself you think you can shut me up? Can silence me? You truely are pathetic. How do you ever expect t-" He's cut off as the man pulls him closer, pulls him back, pulls him against the growing base of himself. He can't be.

"No," he gasps. "Don't you dare," He tries to struggle, to worm his way out once more, but the tightened grip on the back of his nape as him crying, has him bowing deeper into the ground where his face is now smudged against the dirt, dirtied just as he did to the Alpha. "Donovan, no. I said No!" He snaps as the man tries to grind himself in, not listening to a word he's saying.

"P-please," he finally begs, scared of the beast above him. "Don't—Please don't. No!" But still the man does not hear, he just keeps thrusting, keeps moving the young prince's body in tandem with his thrusts. Clay shuts his eyes at the pain, the only way he knows how to deal with it.

And when Donovan's knot finally pops in and catches Clay lets out an undignified sob, allowing his body to go completely slack from under the man. "I told you n-not to!" He wails, feeling the pulses deep within him and the warmth that spreads throughout his body. He's once again disgusted, terrified, and breathing rapidly as he enters a state of anxiety and dread.

He attempts to claw away, to leave the man behind and detach himself but it hurts—it hurts so bad. He feels the monster's length pull at his insides, nearly tearing them apart yet he doesn't give in. He keeps thrashing, keeps trying, keeps sobbing. "I can't. W-w-why can't I get up? Why can't I- Get off. Get off of me!" He screams.

Clay opens his jaws, bearing his teeth to the man in terror and actual anger. He means business now, means to harm the monster and make him pay. He aims for anything, rolling onto his back and flinching as Donovan's length turns in him. He attempts to bite at the man's neck, to maul him. To give him as much pain and neglect as he's received.