The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

He revels in it—in the triumphant feeling as he stands perched over the much bigger, despite his limbs struggling to settle on either side of Donovan's massive shoulders. He tries readjusting them, staggering in place as he attempts to get comfortable, but all he succeeds is awkward placement and a deeper, smoldering glare at the other before giving in and shoving a paw into the man's cheek.

"Alpha?" He echoes, bending down to look at the man. He sure does look the part with his size but his attitude? His posture? It was nothing close to being a leader in the younger's eyes. It was disgusting, revolting, and down-right embarrassing. How could this oaf be an alpha? Be in a position of power?

Clay couldn't help but be insulted. A man like this could get it all, but him? Clay had tried his darn hardest to secure a spot within the high noble court of the empire. He even slept with the emperor, helped him cheat on his wife! But in the end he got nothing. "As if you are a saint," he scoffed, rubbing his paw around on the beast's cheekbone. "Clay Apaata. Prince of Easthollow, brother to the leader of Kaisteloki, Ira. And.. commoner to Reneian Empire." He spits back, just as easy as the man had announced his own.

It's when he feels the man's foot near his crotch, something that makes blood rush to several places in his body,a raise of his brows, and a lower his head in an attempt to look under before shooting a glare back, that he lets his weight drop onto the other—comfortabaly lounging ontop of him. "If that was your attempt at getting me to fuck you, you better try harder." he hisses.

Clay hadn't intended to sleep with the guy, but now knowing that he possessed power and possibly wealth, Clay couldn't help himself. What was one more count to add to his list if he could possibly mooch off such riches.