The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Donovan’s thrusts are erratic and he’s beginning to get so lost in the moment. It’s not like his sweet coupling with Simmik, or the rough and dirty intercourse he had with Merrick. This wolf is defiant, has fought Donovan at every turn. Seems like he couldn’t give a rats ass what Donovan has to say and always ride on the line of pessimistic. 

He doesn’t understand when, but he just zones out. He can’t help himself when he snatches up the loose skin of his neck and grinds his knot into him. Like a primal urge to just dominate. He presumed it’s due to the fact that Clay is so willing to fight him on shit, but so is everyone else — it’s just different. 

No matter how different it is and no matter how zoned out he is, the screams the other lets loose and the panic screech of his name has him snapping out of it. He’s dropping his scruff and blinking down at him with white yellow eyes. Pupils going from blown to pinpricks as the wolf sinks down to the ground, screaming and cursing. It almost sounds like he’s about to cry and fuck, Donovan actually freaks out for a second.  The situation instantly reminds himself of what he did to Aphrodite and Donovan contemplates jumping off a fucking cliff.

Then just as he’s about to lean down to try his best at comforting, Clay slinks completely to the ground, spinning to turn on his back. Donovan’s lip is snarling up at the light pain of his member being yanked down like that and he has no choice but to go down with him. Squatting his hind legs with his forearms being on either side of him he stumbles for words.

“Calm down, holy fuck.” He growls down to him. 

Then the bites start coming and he’s feeling the quick lash of teeth anywhere they can grab. His chin, neck, arms, chest, Clay is biting anything within reach and Donovan cannot get away from the vicious onslaught the other intends to give him. Donovan’s ears press back to his skull and Clays thrashing has him pulling on his member. To remedy this Donovan must risk getting his face bitten off. So he lies down right on top of him and uses from pawns to press against Clays throat and face enough to keep him at bay.

“Calm down.” Donovan says I’m a calmer voice, forcing himself to sound sweeter than his previous growl. “I can’t take it out. I literally can’t. You’re gonna have to wait, darling.” He hums down to him. “I’m—“ Donovan pauses for a seconds, ears airplaned down and brows furrowed. “I apologize, dear. Not sure if it means anything.” His attempt at apologizing is mediocre at best, but the emotions swirling within his eyes are genuine.