The Sunspire Death Is A War[M] Blanket

Donovan doesn't pull off the second Clay tells him to—no. He stays there, still laving over the prince's length and giving it generous treatment until he doesn't. And while Clay is relieved, taking that chance to suck in air to his lungs, he also finds himself missing the attention.

-Just another thing that adds to the jumbled mess of confusion in his mind.

Continuing to suck in breaths, eager to calm down and smother the weird feeling in his chest, in his body, Clay barely notices that the alpha is staring down at him as if he was a meal. It's only when the beast bends down to breath on him—something that makes him struggle more, too sensitive, that Clay finally sees. "Don't look at me like that."

But then Donovan asks him a question and Clay is once more confused. On his back? Thats not—. This whole encounter is making him feel as if he knows nothing about sex. That HE is the one who has never done this before. "Shut up." He snaps, more so telling himself than the other. "We'll do it properly." Is how he answers, denying the man's request.

Standing up and winching at the heavy arousal hanging between his thighs, Clay reluctantly turns back to look at Donovan and notices just how well endowed the man is. He is large—too large, and Clay wonders just how such a thing is going to fit. He stares openly, mouth wide with shock until he notices that it is rude.

"Don't add to the scars. And don't knot me." Is what he closes with to the man, bending down his front half to the mud.