Redsand Canyon My time is running low

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Sexual Themes

He was tired of being battered around.
Having to patrol everyday, feeling like he has no time to rest. No time to let up.
There were so many pack matters to deal with - when they would eat, new recruits, caches, borders.
It seemed all too much at first, but he'd drove himself into a rythmn.

Losing touch with the brindle man whho'd took him in in the process.
Especially since Nemisis...he seemed...distant.
Detached.

He stood outside the Warriors Heart.
He glared down the path leading into darkness. A frown fixated on his face.
"@Donovan Azura," he barked out. The sound echoing around the pathways that made up their densite
He would not take no for an answer tonight.
Not when he'd been browsing for so long.

Donovan lies in his den. A few stories higher than the level, even ground where the small stream flows into Warrior’s Heart. He likes the height advantage it’s given him, especially as of late. The rains and the flood — horrible, nothing like he’s ever seen.

He expects tonight to go fairly smooth, normal perhaps. He’d sit in his den by himself, thinking of what’s happened in his life within the last few months. Flashes of death pass through his mind. He wants carnage. He wants blood. He wants death. Their numbers grow by the week and their strength grows by the day. Their a force to be reckoned with and he wants to show these weaklings what it’s truly like to be a leader. A harbinger of death.

Yet the frozen lake he finds himself on in his dreams cracks. The noise akin to thunder, a deep baritone of unavoidable death. He falls into the treacherous waters, waves eating him up, and he’s gasping awake. Ears pressed to his skull, he sits up and looks around, eyes flicking towards the entrance of the cavern. He stands, pads out far enough that his claws hang off the edge of slippery, muddy stone. Golden hues mistakable with the North Star they’re so bright as he looks down to see Derg. The male bellows his name and he tilts his head, wondering what for.

“Derg.” He says simply, loud enough to catch his attention. Voice rough with disuse and sleep.

It seems he'd woken him up.
He groggily came to peer out at whoever was making suck a racket, and his voice was gritty and hard.
Cute.
A smirk twitched at his lips and he trotted up to the man's den, tail swaying side to side, but he held it higher than the Grandmasters.

He greeted him with a touch of his nose and quickly continued to nibble through his cheek fur up to his ear. He smelt faintly of blood and smoked oak with the strong tang of salty water. Like the ocean.
"It's been a while," he whispered haughtily, bringing himself around to press their sides together, gently nipping his cheek.

Golden eyes follows his form as he climbs up to Donovan’s den site. Coming closer and closer, Donovan actually feels his heart pumping. Greeting him with a waving tail and a bump of their noses. Donovan’s head his lowered to stay level with his straight back, closer to Derg. 

The bump is brief, until it’s crawling up the side of his face, nibbling his cheek and ending up at his thick, dark auds. They swivel and a rumbling hum of laughter is whispered from his lips at the contact. Then his senses are all focused on the russet male before him. His voice and the way it weaves it’s way into his very mind. Slithering around him to end up on his opposite side. Teeth are at his cheek once more and he’s smiling easily. 

Turning his own massive head towards him with a simple whisper of “It has, peaches.” before he’s pressing firmly into the other male.

He’s nuzzling into the nap of his neck, offering love bites and laps of his tongue. Eyes remain half lidded as he gazes heatedly join him. So far he’s been calm, casual. He pulls back slightly, smiling in a way that says ‘come hither’ he goes to walk past him. Brushing the whole of his body along Derg’s chest as he goes, back beneath his chin, and the curl of his tail wrapping around a muzzle playfully. He saunters into his den with a sultry look back, a swagger in his step, and tail curled high. Follow, he says wordlessly.

He could feel the man wake up.
A soft tension coming over him; excitement perhaps.
A soft laugh escaped him, sending shivers down his spine and making his tail twitch.
He had waited too long for this.

Soft kisses and nips adorned his neck now, and Derg tilted his chin up, looking up outside the den.

Donovan pressed into Derg and he leaned into the touch as he slid across his chest.
His face caught in the loop of the wolf-dog tail. Pulling him to follow, which he did.
He sauntered alongside Donovan as they slid further into the darkness.
He jostled into his side, teeth playfully coming to nip his shoulder and neck. He was bigger than Ronnie, and probably demanded a greater level of roughness for it to actually hit.

His eyes shone brightly as he looked to Donovan, his hip bumping brindle.

The male diligently follows Donovan into the darkness. The pitch black vail grabs them with eager hands and sucks them inside. Donovan is feeling heavy with lust, his heart pumps, and his skin is getting hot beneath his coat. Especially as they’re pressed side to side and his skin lights up at the nips to his shoulder. Somethings happening tonight, there’s no way something wouldn’t happen.

Donovan’s steady, even breath dares to come faster and he’s looking over to Derg slyly, golden orbs glowing like the stars above. They reach their destination, Donovan wastes no time to get on with the unseemly acts craves so much. He’s moving to nip and bite along Derg’s neck, moving up to his jaw, then running a darkened tongue along the other males muzzle. Golden hues with heavy lids gaze back silently asking permission to carry on.

It felt like he was inside Donovan's chest.
The walls of the den seemed to hum and pulse with his heartbeat.
His touch electrified his skin and heated up his underside; his cheeked flushed hot.
This was it.
He had Donovan all to himself.

Donovan washes over him like a wave.
His scent, his touch.
Derg returned the lapping tongue down the man's brindle neck. The coarse fur ran smoothly under his touch. He asked for permission, and he could have given it. Maybe he would. Eventually.

But for now, Derg growled softly, a playful glint to his muddy gaze, and Derg nipped harder into Donovan's scruff, another soft growl rumbling from him.
Donovan was his now.
For tonight at least.

Donovan is hot under the collar to say the least. He enjoys the smell and taste of the other male. Eyes mapping over the scar of the others face before he pulls away from licking his muzzle. The marking only makes Donovan more attracted to him. He’s been waiting for this.

When Derg greets him with his own administrations just as eager he feels his more southern regions swell, perhaps begin to unsheathe lewdly. Especially when the teeth grab at his skin and his auds are filled with the rumbling growl that reverberates through him. Donovan releases a shameless exhale and smiles devilishly to him, teeth and all. They’re dancing now. Playing a dangerous game. One Donovan decides to take a pleasant risk in by lapping at Derg’s maw and lowering himself to the ground. Rolling over onto his back and exposing his soft, white underbelly. His arousal extremely apparent in this position, he gives a daring look up to the russet male.

He could feel the tension tieing them together.
Pulling them closer together, making him want to have Donovan to himself.
As his.
But that wouldn't be possible, so he'd settle for this one night of raw pleasure and desire.

A sigh -- perhaps tainted with a soft moan -- as his teeth nipped his skin only drove Derg into the right direction. The behemoth flopped onto his back, unsheathed -- unrestrained.
He licked at the fur where the man's ribcage arched.
His incisors nipped down the curves of his ribs as Derg brought himself to stand over top of Donovan.

He lifted his eyes to look into those golden ones, a smirk spreading his maw. 
He wanted to drive him crazy. A fitting punishment for not doing this sooner.

As he lies there, gazing at Derg as if he’s the beat thing he’s every since. Anticipation evident in his eyes and a black tongue licking along his chops. Following Derg’s movements as he lowers himself closer and closer to where the brindled male wants him to be. A lick to his rib cage and some more nips has his skin setting on fire.

It all stops and Derg is on top of him. A feeling of dominance he’s not quite used to, but still so, so familiar with. Images of Nyra choking him not too long ago and Clay verbally and physically reprimanding him during their own rough lovemaking. Derg seems different than the both of them, more dominant, yet vaguely submissive all the same. Not here though, that smirk tells Donovan that he’s in for a rough ride. 

Golden hues flick up to Derg’s own as he halts in his soft bites and decides to stand over him. He’s in for a treat. Donovan’s own brows furrow and he smirks devilishly up to the scarred face of his counterpart. Lifting a heavy paw to rest it on his shoulder, he inches up and attempts to playfully snap at Derg’s chin and neck, but he’s unable to reach. 

Okay he wants to play like that. Donovan laughs internally. Lifting a hind paw now to ghost over the others sheath with a playful glint to his eyes.

His motions were like fluid water.
Donovan squirmed with pleasure beneath him, desperate for satisfaction.
Pleading with the man to give him more.
Donovan always wanted more and more.
Like some demanding child.

He felt the urge to drive forward and snap his neck between his jaws.
A callous thought he quickly swept away. He didn't know why that urge came over him...
He quickly busied himself when a touch brushed over his sheathed member.
Derg knew he was already showing. Posing.

He back up, Donovans tree-trunk legs before him.
His muzzle extended, more nibbles to the curve of his thighs.

"Bend over Donovan." he orders, ears cupped, tail waving softly.
His own member unsheathing now, thinking about what he wanted to do right now. What he was expecting to do.

Derg: “Bend over Donovan.”
Donovan:

Donovan’s excited. Much too excited to be kosher about it. He’s itching for more and he’s not sure Derg will give it to him. He’s tracing the others sheath and smirking up to him, but his muscles are taught with anticipation. He’s almost about to roll over and get up to continue the show, but Derg backs away from him. To which he quirks a circular cream brow confusedly. He almost believes he’s about to dip. Probably make up some excuse as to why they can’t continue but then all of a sudden the damnedest thing comes from the coffee wolf’s maw. Confidence accompanied by the lewd words and Bend over Donovan. At those words, Donovan just about shits himself.

He looks over Derg’s from and his glowing, golden hues flick to the member beginning to unsheathe, then to his companions own gaze. He blinks comically. Oh shit. He thinks, not thinking the day would ever come. He’s never done that in all his four years of living and he’s gonna do it now? 

His ears airplane against his skull in a quite out of character form of something akin to nervousness. He likes being dominated, likes being treated like shit. So why hasn’t he gone the extra mile? Might as fucking well.

Next thing he knows, he’s rolling over and standing once more. Ears swiveled back towards Derg as he spins his head around to face him. His usually curled over tail hangs a bit further down than it usually does, but he quickly remedies it. Finally thinking Why the fuck not. he curls the plume of his tail over his hips and it even wags a bit. Revealing his true feelings toward the situation at hand. His member hangs full and freely between his legs and he’s beginning to smile again. It’s a challenging one. Though his ears still represent nervousness, his eyes are heated and heavy as he gazes back towards the male. 

“Don’t forget to pull on my scruff while you’re back there, darling.” He hums as he backs up into him confidently. Curving his spine attractively and butting into Derg with the fluffy parts of his but, putting everything out there shamelessly. He wants to be walking funny by the end of this.

The unexpected happened after his words left his maw.
He expected Donovan to suddenly turn on him and force him down.
The thought just invigorated him more.

But Donovan rolled over and obliged in the most unexpected turn of events.
Nervous, he could tell. Ears flicking for something. Reward perhaps, a good job.
His tail, usually high with pride, tried to cling down to...hide himself?
His muzzle slipped into the handy hold his tail made to nibble at the soft skin between his hips.
Something that might make his jump a little if he bit a little harder; which he obviously did.
"You think I wouldn't, Dear?"
He replied with a smirk.

His tail by now had resumed it's usual high position and Derg didn't waste the opportunity.
He rose up, straddling the brindle male and tucking himself close to rach over him. Derg was admittedly shorter than Donovan, so he did need the extra advantage.
Now, this was the tricky bit.
Ronnie wasn't a virgin, but Donovan in this sense was. He didn't know how this will play out.

Derg aligned his member and started the process of embedding himself in his lover.
Slowly pushing and persisting, licking Donovans back to help try and make him relax; at least until it was in.

As he gazes back heatedly to the other, he closes in and brushes past the curl of his tail. The feeling of teeth at his hips has him smirking once more, a short twitch of his hips evident of the effects Derg is having on the brindled male. Then another harder bite, and yes, Donovan jumps a bit at it. Though the promise Derg holds in his voice has him heating up even more.

Fuck. Is all the goes through his mind. Derg’s voice and his fucking everything. Donovan definitely wants this. So when the other finally settles his weight atop his hips, Donovan is greedily pushing back to meet him. He feels the wet tip prod his entrance. He admittedly tenses up some, but quickly forces himself to relax, knowing there could be damage and severe pain if he doesn’t. He breathes, deep and solid. Head hanging lower from his shoulders and Derg is slowly but surely bottoming out. Donovan is going mad. It’s good so far. A subtle shift of Donovan’s hips has him brushing something inside him that blossoms an intense bolt of pleasure.

He’s releasing an open mouthed moan, shuffling his hind paws, stepping impatiently. It’s so good he has to do something with the pleasure. Bowing his head further down and giving another raunchy groan as he pushes back against the others hips shamelessly. The licks to his nape and back only intensify this high. 

He’s gasping and sighing all the same. “Fu–ck. Fuck. Goddamn.” He’s cursing under his breath. “Never imagined that shit feels so good.” He practically moans back to the other, encouraging movement.

He’s done the deed to other wolves and knows his way around a male and female in the top position, but as a bottom, he’s in a whole new world. One he’s beginning to think he could get used to.

He could tell the brindle man was still bricking it.
The slight tremble in his shoulders, the anxious flick of the ears, the correction and cautious eyes flicking back.
He pushed forward, feeling Donovan tense, then relax, and the man took the chance, sliding in easily.

Derg groaned softly, looking up to the roof of the den.
Enthralled by the beast he so lusted for.
Derg settled himself, letting Donovan adjust too. Get their footing, adjust to the feeling.
Derg reached down, snapping up a mouthful of his scruff and thrust his hips forward, pulling back on his scruff so he can't escape. Forepaws gripping his ribcage, tail waving to keep balance.

He slid back, testing the length, and thrust again, slowly building speed. He wouldn't embarrass himself as he had with Ronnie.
A soft growl rumbled from him, teeth pinching tighter for a moment.

Donovan can’t handle it. He’s borderline dying from the sheer burn of red hot pleasure building in his abdomen. There’s something going on and Donovan has no idea how it feels so godly. He’s pushing back into Derg and curling his tail around his shoulder. Deep hums of pleasure rack his body and he’s moaning in earnest. Not at all ashamed to use his voice. 

Especially when his agouti partner snatches up his scruff, he gasps. Eyes going from closed to open and rolling back into his head. “Fuck—.” He keeps grumbling because truly he has nothing else to say that can convey how he feels in this moment. “Make me bleed, Derg.” Comes his heated growl, he wants it to hurt. Wants him to pull roughly on his scruff and bring blood to the surface.

He almost releases himself when he hears the growl come from Derg’s maw, rumbling against his brindled scruff. The thought of Derg knotting him makes him shiver horribly. He wants it so bad.

Their hips met as they went into oblivion together.
Wrapped up in one enough, feeling new hights together.

His eyes roll under heavy lids, his knot now pressing against Donovan.
He shuddered, pausing for a moment as his husky words rolled over him.
"You," he leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "are unbelievable."

He pulled back, taking up his scruff again, but slightly closer to his neck this time.
He slowly bit down, making sure he didn't cause panic or some shit. No, he slowly bit down enough until he could feel the skin about to break under his teeth.
Oh so very close to what he wanted.
His hips rocked forward, his knot pushing closer, with more urgency.

And he bit down that little bit more, blood oozing onto his tongue and he started to fuck Donovan again with more vigour.

He’s is pure, unadulterated heaven. Never would’ve thought anything like this would’ve felt that good. Look at him now, pushing back into the coffee pelted male woth the urgency of a bitch in heat. It’s degrading, but not to him. He’s open with sexuality; he couldn’t give a fuck what others thought. 

Especially in this moment of ecstasy. The others member hitting places he never thought he’d be so enticed with until now. The knot teasing him so horribly. A threat, but only just that.

Derg’s voice filled with lust, deep and throaty. It makes him even harder. His own member leaking between muscles thighs. He’s about to blow. Especially when teeth snatch up his scruff, his own eyes roll back and his ears lie flat on his skull. The pleasure so fiery hot inside him he doesn’t expect to release himself this soon. But when the rushed thrusts from the other have him spilling over the edge, his body goes stiff. Blood seeping from the puncture wound, the tug at his neck, the pounding, it all sends him reeling.

Curing his head more into his chest, lowering it almost past his shoulders. Ripping out an obscene moan from deep within his breast. “Oh, fuck, Derg. Fucking do it. Claim me.” He growls to the man. Demanding in his blissed out state of orgasm.

This.
This was bliss.
Donovan pushed and groaned beneath him.
And he exploded.
Donovan shuddered and moaned beneath him, it was a wonder the whole canyon wasn't outside the den.
Or maybe the entire reason why there was no one in the Warrior's Heart.

Derg pushed forward just a little more, his knot threatening to go all the way.
He could feel the heat flare up within himself, running down his loins.
That fire that pulsated through him and rocked his fuckin world.

Derg himself climaxed inside Donovan, snapping up a new patch of scruff as his audible release came.
He didn't know whether he had been fully indulged or not, but he'll soon find out after his head stopped pounding and he could think after this.

Kynareth can’t handle the bliss that flows throughout his body — his mind is so close to exploding. The wolf behind him thrusting uncontrollably into him and the feeling of it is unbearable (in a good way). Then the catch of the knot and Donovan is practically shivering. A snatch of scruff as the other cums. It’s truly an experience he’d like to reply over and over again. 

He stands, catching his breath just as Derg surely is. A deep sigh and he’s craning his neck backwards in an attempt to lap at the others muzzle. A blissed out, dopey smile on the brindled males maw. He clearly enjoyed himself.

Derg managed to gain his breath -- and strength -- back, he pulled himself from Donovan.
His dark tongue that had lapped his muzzle had left his fur swept the wrong way.
Derg moved alongside the Grandmaster, bumping his head into the huge shoulder with a breathy sigh.
That...was intense.

The Overseer pulled his head back, looking at the man with a soft sparkle in his eye.
Euphoria still washing over him.
He shivered, feeling a bit chilled from his exertion. He was glad for it though.

Derg slid to the floor, panting softly. He just wanted to cuddle and sleep.

Derg pants alongside him, a moan slips from his maw as he pulls out. The Grandmaster is exposed as raw and he actually doesn’t even give a fuck. The desire to couple with the male almost grasping at him again, but it doesn’t win over the spiraling fatigue laced into his aching body.

Even the soft look Derg offers to him before dropping himself evenly to the ground. It was almost sweet — well it is sweet, Donovan just doesn’t want to admit that he actually likes it.

So he lies down beside the other, facing him in a wordless embrace. They’d sleep heavily throughout the night. Cuddling like lovers and, believe it or not, Donovan is more than okay with that.