Disclaimer: Sadly, none of it is mine.
Title: Dyson's Claim
Warnings: If you are not okay with graphic, detailed sex, you should definitely the back button your browser. Also, Dyson is very dominating in this fic so he's somewhat OOC, but it's really just the way I like him.
Summary: Dyson gets jealous and delicious rough sex ensues.
A/N: This is my first Lost Girl fic so I'm really trying to get a feel of the characters and somewhat of the world, hence why it's a bit wordy in some areas. Delayed gratification is also wonderful…sometimes.
The almost empty pint glass cracked under his unyielding grasp. Hale's hand clasped his shoulder and shook in an attempt to regain the were-fae's focus. One minute they were griping about the terrible shift that had just experienced, and in the next, Dyson snarled, extracted his fangs and narrowing his golden eyes. The siren followed his friend's glare and rolled his eyes before rubbing his chin out of habit. Tucked in a booth in the corner, Bo sat fully enveloped in conversation with another fae, who was slowly succumbing to the succubus's charms. The smile playing at her full lips told Dyson that she was flirting, if her hand on the other fae's arm and her gentle lean that revealed her creamy cleavage weren't enough.
"Back down, Dys. She's a free agent," the siren warned.
This caught the were-fae's attention. His fangs and preternatural eyes were replaced with a stoic façade that Hale knew all too well. To anyone else, Dyson appeared collected and sober. Beneath the well practiced mask, Hale knew that his friend was completely livid. Between the day that they had had and seeing Bo flirt with another fae, potentially using her succubus talents on him, Dyson would be insufferable by the end of the night.
"I'm supposed to watch this then?" Dyson growled incredulously.
"She's a succubus. It's what she was born to do."
"Not with fae," he retorted.
The siren had no idea what to say. He sympathized with his canine friend, but also knew that Bo was technically doing nothing wrong. Sure, the fae that had attracted her attention belonged to the Dark side, but she was neutral. And as much as Dyson felt differently, the succubus was unclaimed and free to do as she please, a liberty she seemed to be exercising to its fullest. Her finger traced down to the dark haired fae's wrist, a faint red glow emanating from the tips of her fingers. The Dark fae was rapt momentarily before he shook of her affect, delighting in her effort to seduce him.
"You can't do anything about it, Dys," Hale continued.
"Want to bet?" he asked seriously, his eyebrow arching.
"I really didn't want to be the one to say this, but I guess I have to. If you're going to keep acting like this, you're going to have to claim her."
"It isn't fair otherwise."
"I think you've been hanging out with Kenzi too much."
"Maybe, but she's right. I'm not sure why you want to get involved with her so much. Her species isn't exactly known to be the monogamous type."
"You can't blame a guy for trying."
With that said, Dyson finished the rest of his ale, thankful that the glass hadn't been completely ruined, and made his way towards the booth where Bo was occupied seducing the Dark fae. Her intentions were clear by the way that she dressed. Leather encased her feminine form, accentuating her curves and revealing more leg than Dyson was comfortable with her showing. Her dark chestnut hair fell loose around her face, teasing the side of her exposed neck. Dyson knew that everything Hale said was true. He didn't have any right to barge in on Bo, but he couldn't help but relinquish logic to the wolf inside him who was desperate for his mate.
Her eyes shifted to the side as he came into her peripheral vision. She continued staring into the handsome face of the young fae on the receiving end of her touch. Dyson would not ruin her night or her chance at finding love. He had already made it clear that they could only be friends and she would be damned if she allowed him to control her.
"Can you excuse us?" Dyson asked, standing near Bo, but never taking his eyes of the Dark fae. Dyson silenced the fae's protests with a subtle warning growl. The fae obviously wasn't interested enough in the succubus to put up much of a fight.
"What the hell was that, Dyson?"
"Come with me."
The tone of his voice indicated that there was little room for her to defy him. The sudden display of dominance spiked her arousal before she could cover it. His nostrils flared slightly before a smirk twisted his lips. She bulked at oppression. It made her feel caged and claustrophobic. Dyson's dominance, however, elicited different feelings from her.
"Bo, I don't want to make a scene."
"Where are you going to take me?"
"Do you really need to ask that?" he wondered, his voice deep and husky.
"Then my answer is still the same: no."
Bo turned back to her drink, trying to keep her eyes off of him. She hated to admit it, but simply looking at him would make her resolve crumble. The leather vest over top of his dark royal blue button up shirt, that exposed more flesh than was generally necessary, and his dark denim jeans had her mouth watering. When she looked at his attire, simple yet utterly masculine, she always remembered how the articles of clothing still looked better on her floor.
The succubus could do little to hide her current arousal, thus spurring Dyson onward. His brushed the back of his fingers down her arm to calm him down. Relief resided in touching her and he clung to it before she could steal away from him. Caressing back up her arm, his hand made its way to her neck. He had perfected how much pressure to apply to excite her the second time they had tumbled into bed together. Her eyes flashed up at his, her pupils dilated. The gesture served not only as method to arouse her, but also as a warning: when she went home with him, it would be a rough night. A gentle groan rumbled in her throat as she licked her lips, thinking about what could happen fifteen minutes from now.
"That's my girl," he murmured, releasing his hold on her.
"Are you sure you're not a succubus yourself?" she wondered, slightly exasperated. She couldn't help but also wonder where her determination had fled to.
Dyson was glad she ignored his slip. As much as he wanted to howl out his adoration for her and claim her as his mate, it was too dangerous. He couldn't afford to get further involved, which the glares from Trick, like heat lamps on the back of his neck, reminded of.
"Let's get out of here."
A frown wrinkled her brow momentarily as she moved to collect her jacket. He was losing her.
"Dyson, we shouldn't do this."
The calm that had settled over him had begun to slip. Jealously flared in his chest once more as he reminisced in the memory of her flirting, touching the Dark fae.
"Because you would rather go home with that?" He nodded to the Dark fae who lingered out of earshot, but close enough that if Dyson let, he could move in again. "Do I need to make it clear that you are not up for grabs?"
"Do I have any say in this at all?" she asked hotly, her temper beginning to flare. "I am not your mate as you have clearly stated numerous times. You have no right to meddle in my sex life, Dyson, especially when you want no part in it."
"I am not going anywhere with you!"
Her raised voice caught the attention of a few people nearby, even over the din of laughter and music. The last thing he wanted to do was make Trick mad. He wasn't, however, leaving without Bo. His options were few: he could walk away defeated and even more pissed off than he already was, or he could haul her ass out of the bar and take her home. The stubborn expression on her pallid face suggested that she could not be negotiated with.
"You leave me no choice, Bo."
In one swift movement, Dyson seized her by her upper arm and dragged her out of the booth towards the exit. The pair didn't go unnoticed. Several fae stared at their odd behavior, but chose not to cross paths with the stormy were-fae. Bo was shocked into submission: no one, not even Trick or Hale, whom she both pleaded for help, would rescue her. Dyson growled at anyone who got close or stood in their way. Remembering that she had limbs, Bo flayed her arms and tried to plant her feet. She pulled back against his weight, keeping in mind that her shoulder could disconnect. The feral grin on Dyson's face demonstrated his lack of determent. To add to her embarrassment, Dyson had her in over his shoulder in a fluid motion that she barely saw. Her fists bounded his back as she attempted to kick him in the chest.
"You're only making it worse, Bo," he chuckled.
"This is classified as kidnapping! And soon it will be rape!" she hollered, her fist never ceasing their assault.
By the time they reached the door to his loft, Bo had given up. She lay draped over Dyson's well-muscled shoulder, contemplating how she could possibly get out of her predicament. As soon as they were in the loft, Dyson had her pressed up against the nearest wall with his body. He pinned her arms to the sides of her head and nestled his leg in between hers. With the feel of his thigh against her sex, she pursed her lips together to fight back her moan. Dyson drew in a long breath, smelling from the nape of her neck to her ear.
"You reek like that Dark fae."
"Maybe that's because I was trying to seduce him," she spat back, purposefully trying to get a rise out of him.
"Why would you do that, Bo?" he murmured huskily against the flesh beneath her jawbone.
"I needed healing."
"You know you can come to me for that," he said, frowning as he met her eyes.
"A different kind of healing."
Words caught in his throat. Hurt flickered across her features, but she looked away quickly before he could read into it. She shifted in discomfort against the painted brick, inadvertently rubbing herself against his thigh. Not knowing the words to comfort her, Dyson used his mouth instead. As much as the succubus could take what ever Dyson threw at her, he had to be gentle. He wanted to ravish her completely, succumb to his animal instincts, but he had to hold back.
One hand held her by her wrists above her head, while the other picked her up by the back of her thighs, bringing hers legs around his waist. He ground his arousal against her while his lips attacked her neck, nipping and tugging at the soft flesh he found. It didn't take long before her hips were rocking back against him.
"Bed?" she gasped, as his mouth latched onto the flesh of her exposed cleavage.
Dyson was torn between taking her roughly against the wall and… his thoughts immediately concentrated on that idea. The bed would have to wait. He answered her by hiking up her stiff dress only to find that she wore nothing underneath. She winced when her bare behind met the brick again as Dyson thrust against her.
"You weren't wearing panties all night?" he said through a growl.
Busted. She could have made up some excuse about panty lines, but it was pointless. She wore no underwear because she had the terrible habit of forgetting them places. Dyson could have definitely attested to that. A gasp escaped from her throat at the speed in which Dyson had her on the bed, underneath him, with her face in the mess of sheets and blankets.
"What happened to later?" she asked, her voice slightly muffled against cotton and down.
"That's the least of your worries right now, Bo."
Straddling her knees, Dyson unzipped the back of her dress and then tore it off her. She whimpered at the loss of one her favorite dresses. The leather vest and dark royal blue shirt joined her ruined dress on the cool floor. His jeans quickly followed suit, then his boxer-briefs, leaving him nude.
"You will only dress like that for me," he said against the small of her back before kissing his way up to the back of her neck.
Her body shuddered under the feel of his stubble scratching her warm skin. The sheets stifled her moan when his hand found her breast, palming the generous amount of flesh he found before pinching her nipple roughly. Her hips bucked back against him.
"Did you hear me?" he whispered hoarsely into her ear.
"Yes," she hissed out.
"Can you do that for me?"
Her head nodded in response. His other hand gripped her hip possessively, knowing her sweet spots. Twisting beneath him, Bo desperately wanted him to touch her where she needed him the most, where his hands seemed to be avoiding.
"Touch me, Dyson. I need you to touch me," she breathed out.
Both hands pulled her up by her hips and onto her knees. Bending her head the right way, she watched as his finger traced a circled around her navel before sliding down and separating her wet folds. The groan in his chest vibrated against her back. She clenched around him, desperate for her orgasm. The gradual draw of her power left him slightly lightheaded until she gently backed off.
"You will only get wet for me," he declared.
If Bo didn't know any better, she could have sworn that she was in the middle of Dyson's ritual for claiming his mate. A shudder of desire past through her body at the thought of her being his mate. It was an idea that she had warmed up to quickly.
"Bo," he said, drawing her out of her thoughts.
"Only for you," she said breathlessly.
A whimper filled his ears when he slid his finger out of her. It was replaced with a surprised cry when Dyson thrust to the hilt inside of her. Her muscles were tight and hot against him, nearly sending him over the edge at once. She knew she was in for it back at the Dell, but she was still shocked by Dyson's uncharacteristic dominance and coarseness. The cries that rose in her throat encouraged the pace of Dyson's hips. His relentlessness and unyielding thrusts had her tapping into his Chi to try and calm him down. He grabbed a fistful of her long hair and pulled.
"No cheating," he admonished.
He knew he must have been hurting her when she couldn't support herself anymore, collapsing onto her stomach. His movements quickened and he breathed in her heightened arousal, bringing himself closer to the edge. Between her pliant body and the soft mattress, Dyson found her clit and played with the swollen flesh until she shuddered against him, crying out her orgasm. Her clamping inner walls ultimately welcomed his orgasm and he spent himself, growling against the nape of her neck. His body flat against her sent her further into the mattress and increased her need for air.
"You're crushing me," she squeaked.
The couple groaned at the abrupt lack of contact when he pulled out of her. Slowly, his arm circled around her shoulders and drew her to his side. She draped her leg over his thighs, bringing them closer, wondering if he would explain what had just happened. Their liaisons had never been that heated or rough before, though she couldn't find a compliant inside of her.
"Don't do that again," he said softly, against her hair.
"It got me in your bed, didn't it?"
In the moment that he paused, she glanced up at him with a mischievous grin on her bruised lips. A rumble of laughter echoed faintly in the stillness of the room.
"There are easier way to get you in my bed."
"Apparently not," she muttered.
His crooked finger tipped her chin up so that she had to stare straight into his eyes.
"I'm serious, Bo. Don't ever do that to me again."
"Or else what?"
"I'll have to publicly claim you," he replied sternly.
"That doesn't sound so bad," she joked.
"It's what a mate has to do if someone isn't respecting a claim."
"That's odd, because I'm not your mate and you haven't made a claim."
"I think everyone in the Dell who saw you over my shoulder would disagree," he answered craftily with a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're mine, Bo, and I plan on keeping it that way."
"Then start acting like it," she replied honestly.
"Trust me, that's not a mistake I'm going to make twice."
Content with his answer, Bo ducked out of his hold on her, nestling herself back against his chest. The night had turned out more successful than she had planned, but she did have to find a new leather dress.