Wapun Meadow the nasty words of a hateful song
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#26
Donovan enjoined every second he gets to torture, or rather pleasure, this man so. His reactions are priceless and it cause a scalding got pool of pleasure to gather in his loins. His own member unsheathed, yet he doesn’t bother with himself yet. If he is anything, he prides himself on being an extravagant lover, just as he prides himself in everything else. Even then as the male breathes a solid Fuck. out into the open air and tells him to surprise the other Donovan chuckles against him. Loving the way he reaches smaller, black paws towards his muzzle Donovan licks his way further down. As if he couldn’t go any further, until he does.

Practically arching his lower half down into a play bow, he noses aside the plume of Merrick’s tail and goes absolute ham on his backside with a skilled tongue. Switching from sensual, to rough he continues this new torture for a fair few minutes as well. Until finally, he raises from his downwards position, licking his chops lewdly.

“Get up and turn around.” He growls heatedly down to him. His eyes skin to the blazing sun that gives the universe light. His gaze hotter than hades as he awaits the male to cart out his heated order. 

But before Merrick could move, Donovan steps a foot over his body to land on the ground beside the smallers hip. “Or do you want it on your back, darling?” He asks with the most sultry tone of voice he could muster.
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#27
extravagant, dominant; merrick felt himself stretched and twined and laid out upon a rack. but where one might pull a lever and yank limbs from their socket in a slow, horrid torture, this was honey and fire and his mind felt as though it were made from melted candlewax.
donovan was content to strip every bit of quarrel from merrick, though the last showed itself in a growl as the bearwolf glanced back along one hard-muscled shoulder. "no." waste not, want not; he saw no reason for that when he could indulge fully in all the tiger held out.
skin alight with a thousand needlepricks of light, merrick snarled a laugh and urged the brutish casanova forward with a catlike lash of his dark plume.
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#28
The onyx male stands and does just as he’s told. It causes shivers to course beneath Donovan’s pelt and prickle along his spine. He’s mesmerized by the scares and horror that is this man — Merrick. He almost wants to add another. Almost wants Merrick to add one to Donovan’s own collection as well. 

Then as Merrick’s simple answer of no reaches his ears he doesn’t have to say much before he’s moving into position. Though it’s not the one most would expect at this point. He cranes his head over the dark pelage of the coys hips, nibbling and licking all the way down. Giving an experimental bite on the meat of his rump and shamelessly nosing aside his tail. The brindled male wastes absolutely no time and goes straight ham on him. Licking and devouring him like he hasn’t eaten in days. Dipping a black tongue into the puckered entrance shallowly at first. Then as a couple minutes go by he dives the entirety of the appendage in, truly enjoying the feeling of being to pleasure another. 

He cannot wait any longer, for his own need eats at him like maggots and ants to a rotting corpse. He steps over to settle himself back to chest over Merrick. Body large enough to easily lick Merrick’s ears as he tortured him by sliding his length in slowly. Seating himself completely within him. He stays this way for a few moments, urging the other to get used to the intrusion. 

Again, he can only wait so long before he snatches up the rust colored scruff of Merrick’s neck. Setting his hips at a tougher pace he lips in and out roughly. Stopping for only a split second to angle his hips a different way to bring maximum pleasure to the other beneath him.
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#29
merrick had never been handled so roughly. it was always he who had been the commander, under his call that the others bent and beckoned. ursus came to and fro; merrick watched from the high places of the valley. he had made himself a judge and executioner, their eager teeth his jury. blood spilled by a twitch of his lip.
but now all that was swept away by donovan's precise, controlled movements; merrick bared his teeth at the close of the tiger's jaws round his nape, but the growl subsided into a breathless laugh, then a gasp.
the serpent was jarred; it fell to hang between his teeth, as much as merrick felt himself pillared, held, reined.
and the end came quickly for him, a hoarse moan echoing across the meadow as he succumbed to the connection of himself to the other and allowed fire to consume him.
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#30
Donovan feels the other finish and he’s thrown into another bout of ecstasy. His body is vibrating with pleasure and he moans in earnest against the coppery scruff of the males neck. There’s blood now, turning the sunset fur into a darker crimson, not by much though. Guess he couldn’t help himself. The base of his member is swelling and they find themselves locked together for a hot moment. Spinning around to press together rump to rump, he teasingly pulls on the coy every so often until they’re separated.

The moment he’s able to pull away, he’s greedily in the other man again. If the coy allows, Donovan’s eagerly nosing away that tail once more, lapping at the mess they’ve made. He doesn’t care if he’s called disgusting, or whatever have you. He will clean up the coy as if it was the beginning of their sexual encounter rather than the end, with just as much enthusiasm too.

Finally he pulls away, licking his chops like Merrick is the best thing he’s ever tasted. He’s shameless in the acts of pleasure and eyes the coy heatedly.
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#31
weak, spent, shaking, merrick regarded donovan with a spyglass eye. it was the act of extreme dominance not to take, but to give, a way to break the mind and bend the will. he supposed he should be annoyed, if that happened to be the case, but the madman found he was not. a needlesharp grin toward the impressive, demanding nature of his carnal companion.
"what a fucking slut," he remarked, cylclops-gaze dancing as he stumbled in swathes of pleasure-wrappings, their glissade through his figure. "you're going to do that again to me, sometime," the bear-witch chuffed, an edict on his own land he expected might also benefit this tantric creature.
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#32
Donovan’s midnight hued tongue flicks above his maw, lapping up the juices from their encounter that seeped all over his maw. He truly is disgusting but he couldn’t give a rats ass. He finds pleasure in it. Surely, Merrick did too, or so he hopes. Though by the shakes wracking his lithe frame, Donovan can’t help but hum in approval. He’s obsessed with the outcome of what the coy has become. It’s aesthetically pleasing in every way.

To say he’s taken aback by the dirty words that slither from his tongue, would be an understatement. Or maybe he shouldn’t be surprised at all. Especially as that honey-red gaze looks to him as he says it. Donovan scoffs as more of a just. “I was waiting for someone to say it.” He jokes with a snicker. 

Then he’s inching closer into Merrick’s space once more. “I’d be honored to.” He brushes past him as he walks a bit forward, looking back over his shoulder, tail curled tightly on his hips. “I suppose this is the part where you say you have to leave.” He hums deeply, voice still teasingly sultry. “Please do come to my Canyon, Merrick. We can speak more of this treaty.” Comes his own mysterious and suggestive reply.
this is my book
and i know how to work the spells and charms in it
i know them all
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#33
donovan was dirtied and pure and darkened and whole, laughing, reveling in the entwinement of their bodies and the openness of his ability to be as he was. merrick saw their match then, two beings caught in a confidence shared by few others. "i'll come," he chuckled with a tilt of his jaw. "make it worth my while."
his canyon. a place in the mountains then; a place where donovan gathered to his bosom those who would all be swayed by his feral appeal. merrick nipped at the passing shoulder, a grin on his lips now as he backed some steps.
"we'll both leave. you first."
a wetting of the tongue, a curl of his mouth.
"Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future."
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#34
Donovan catches the smirk of Merrick’s slim muzzle and the glint in his eye. Donovan meets him with the same energy, smirking over to him. “It’ll definitely be worth your while, darling.” He practically growls with the heated threat of fucking Merrick all over again.

“As you wish.” He hums smoothly, voice of the softest velvets yet still holding its usual base. “Can’t wait ‘till next time.” He chuckles with a sly wink and he’s strutting off. The curl of his tail bouncing as he saunters off. His usual swagger evident in his confident stride. He can hardly wait.