“See, Tank? Baby boy wants more.”
Humiliation hit Clover like a wave of cement, but he couldn’t help it. He needed release, he needed something he couldn’t grasp at. Pyro stepped on Clover’s jeans that had pooled at his feet and forced one of Clover’s legs out of the pants, then up, so his knee rested on the table, leaving him spread open and standing on one leg.
His hair was everywhere. Like a white curtain protecting his face from being seen in its most naked, expressive state, but it couldn’t stop Clover from uttering a shamefully long moan when Pyro thrust into him again, all the way in, only to pull back. He followed this with a series of those same stabs, playing with Clover’s body as if he were a blow-up doll. And the worst thing was that each and every time that hot dick slammed in, the backs of Clover’s lids filled with stars and his balls tightened.
“Maybe you should fuck him too, Tank. For good measure. That’s what he’s for. He said it himself,” Pyro said cruelly, and grabbed Clover’s ass, scraping it with his nails.
Clover’s eyes watered, but he put all his willpower into keeping the tears from falling. Pyro teased Clover’s cock with slow strokes, and the pace was so unbearable Clover rocked back against Pyro’s cock in attempt to get off sooner.
“I’m good,” Tank said, as if Clover really did exist only for the enjoyment of these men.
“If we work you good, you’ll take two cocks one day,” Pyro whispered, pushing his lubed thumb into Clover’s hole, stretching it alongside his dick.
Clover shook at the humiliation of it, yet the image of two dicks sliding into his snug anus has been planted, and now he was stuck with it forever. He shouldn’t like any of this, yet here he was—struggling with arousal that didn’t make him happy at all. How the body could work against the mind was mystery.
There was something wrong with him.
Pyro’s thrusts became shallow, but the added pressure of the finger had Clover moaning and writhing until shame made tears finally spill down his face. Pyro pulled Clover up against his chest, steadying himself for the onslaught. Clover couldn’t help himself. He was barely gasping for air when he pushed his aching ass against a cock he resented.
If only he could orgasm, all of this torment would end.
“F-fuck,” he uttered, his whole body throbbing and ready.
Pyro squeezed the base of Clover’s cock. “Oh, no you don’t,” he rasped. “This is for me, not for you.”
Clover couldn’t stop a disappointed shriek, but it was cut short when Pyro thrust into him in a short sequence, stilling while his dick pulsed inside Clover, releasing his seed.
That was it. He was just a cumdump. Like Drake said before he left, letting his disgust be known to everyone involved. Clover shouldn’t care.
But he did.
His cock was still ready to go, balls aching from the release they had been denied. Pyro slapped Clover’s ass a final time before pulling out of him, and despite the support of the table, Clover’s legs went soft under him, leaving him to slump to the floor.
He sat there, torn between jerking himself off and keeping the last shred of his dignity. But he was so close. It would take a few tugs. His balls ached, his ass throbbed, his hole still sloppy and open.
Pyro stood over him, a looming danger, with portraits of serial killers tattooed over his skin. He pulled off the condom, gasping. “Open up.”
“Pyro…” Tank said in warning, stepping closer.
Pyro shook his head. “Just the cum. Go on, Clo, open your mouth and take it.” He showed off the rubber filled with fresh spunk.
Clover licked his lips, torn between extreme arousal and fury strong enough to burn down whole cities. He looked up straight into Pyro’s eyes in challenge and opened his mouth.
A vicious grin tugged on Pyro’s lips, but he didn’t hesitate and squeezed the contents of the condom on Clover’s tongue. The hot, gooey cum felt more bitter than usual, but Clover still swallowed it while shudders danced all over his back.
“Are you ready to apologize?” Pyro asked, tossing the empty rubber to the floor, right in front of Clover, as if he were expecting the service to include clean-up as well.
The question dampened even Clover’s arousal. “I don’t see Boar around.”
Pyro shook his head and grabbed Clover by the chin. “If you could only be fucking nicer, Boar would shower you with so much more than you could dream of, you stupid shit.”
Where was that supposed to lead them though? It wasn’t like Clover could stay with them. He was their toy for now, and just because Boar’s personality was gentler didn’t mean he wouldn’t dump Clover once he was bored of him. Boar’s main interest was Pyro, anyway. Clover was literally the bottom of the pile here.
“Well, I’m not nicer.”
Pyro’s jaw muscles twitched, and he let go of Clover, as if he were suddenly disgusted with him. “That’s your choice. But things won’t be right until you apologize.”
Clover considered what the right comeback to that would be, but Pyro left, slamming the door like Drake had. Tank was still there though, his steel-toed boots pointing Clover’s way.
“Need a hand, boy?”
Clover could scream in frustration. “I’m fine!” he yelled and reached for his dick, jerking it just to get off quicker. He would go mad otherwise. One thought of two dicks penetrating him at once was enough to make his own spurt cum all over.
The few seconds of white hot bliss let him forget about the world, but the relief only lasted so long before he was plunged right back into the reality he resented. What a fucking mess.
Tank’s sigh was loud enough to be a statement, yet Clover refused to acknowledge it and pulled up his pants, embarrassed over being tied to the people who’d witnessed this humiliating scene.
He wanted to cry.
But he wouldn’t.
He rubbed his face with his T-shirt, took a deep breath and passed Tank on the way out of this oppressive cabin that had felt so homely just yesterday. Lesson learned.
“Where you goin’, Clover?”
“Out.”
“Stay. You’re not getting lost here. There’s people after you,” Tank insisted, a mountain next to Clover.
Clover’s hands shook with frustration, and he couldn’t make himself face Tank. All he wanted was some time to sulk on his own without anyone witnessing his misery.
He ran his fingers through his messy hair, but they caught on a tangle and he couldn’t pull them all the way through. “I’ll just… I just… I’ll sit there.” He pointed to a spot on the far edge of the grass surrounding the cottage.
Tank stroked Clover’s back as if he hadn’t smacked his ass with a belt just minutes ago. “Just make sure you’re in the shade and don’t leave my sight.”
Clover nodded, without looking up, and sped for the door, despite the burn being such a constant presence both on his skin and inside his hole.
So maybe his life was safe, but what if the cage he’d crawled into for safety grew even smaller?
Chapter 12 – Clover
Clover lay in bed but couldn’t sleep, his head replaying what had happened like a reminder that he was on his own and needed to do anything in his power to ensure his survival. So he was in a shitty position right now. Big deal. It still beat being dead or held by some creeper or having his arms sawn off. Things could have definitely been much, much worse.
Still, knowing so much didn’t make sleeping in the same bed as one of the guys who now held his life in their hands any easier. The house was silent, and the lack of sound was starting to echo in his head, always bringing him back to the broad bed that felt too hot, and to the giant sleeping with his back to him.
Tank’s steady breathing provided Clover with his only consolation in this state of complete solitude. Tank would usually hold him close at night, his embrace offering Clover an illusion of care and safety that helped him rest. Until today, this man had been his rock, even if not the most gentle, but what else could one expect
of a rock?
Tank had even tried to go with their usual routine as they’d first laid down, but though Clover was now sulking about the lack of closeness, he’d been the one to reject the spooning. He didn’t want to see any of the mercenaries, didn’t want to be touched, didn’t want to be talked to, yet on the other hand he desperately craved all those things.
Unable to communicate his needs and feelings, he stewed in his own brain juices for hours in hope that maybe someone, someday would know what to do with him. Drake had never been much of a friend despite the sexual tension sizzling in the air whenever they were near one another, but now Clover had managed to hurt Boar, antagonize Pyro, and even reject Tank, all in one day.
He would be his own undoing.
No matter that his ass was on the line, one day soon, these men would have a meeting and decide he wasn’t worth their effort. He just knew it.
They would leave him on the side of the road with cash for a bus ticket, even if only to make themselves feel better, and within a day or two, he’d be captured again.
What did the person who requested him need him for?
Tank hummed, his side expanding on the bright background of the wall. Unlike the others, Tank had been ready to bury the hatchet earlier tonight, but even though he was the one still standing between Clover and potential death, Clover’s pride and anger made him blow a hole in the wall of Tank’s protection.
Clover had lied about being respectful to Boar, and they both knew it. Tank would never let it go, and the distance between them would continue growing until it became too wide to cross. Tank hadn’t even wanted to have sex with Clover once Pyro was done, so whatever power Clover’s body had over Tank was dwindling fast.
Who was Clover even kidding? He was albino, and an overall top notch twink, but his looks would be a novelty only for so long. Even if the mercenaries didn’t care about him beyond that, nobody wanted to deal with an obstructive person on a daily basis.
Too bad he already missed Tank’s heavy arm, the confidence that knew no bounds, the clear boundaries he offered. Clover knew his place in the world when he was around Tank. He gave Clover a stability no boyfriend ever had. Too bad Tank wasn’t a boyfriend.
There was no way to take back the things Clover had done earlier today, so he was stuck in bed, way past midnight, plagued by the guilt over the way he had treated Boar, angry about the hateful way Pyro had fucked him, ashamed of lying to Tank, who’d always been his ally, and constantly hearing the word ‘cumbucket’ thrown at him, when even at the worst of times, he’d never prostituted himself.
He wasn’t a hole to fuck. He had feelings. And he was scared.
Once he was sure Tank had fallen asleep, Clover let out a muffled sob, holding a hand over his face to keep it as quiet as possible. He was such a waste of space. No wonder Jerry had wanted to get rid of him.
A whiny little kid.
Not good enough of a thief.
Adequate only for fucking.
If Tank and the others hadn’t been so nice to him before, their anger and rejection would have been easier to swallow.
He held in another sob, but the need for warmth became a black hole in the middle of his chest, and he shifted on the bed until his face was buried between Tank’s shoulder blades. The skin there was damp from the heat but fragrant, and warm, and so soothing he wished he could die suffocating then and there.
But Tank moved with a low growl.
“I’m sorry,” Clover whispered but couldn’t force himself to pull away. His entire life would have been on a different course if he met a man like Tank early on. He wouldn’t have to constantly struggle like a stray cat, because someone would have taken care of him. Was it so wrong to fantasize about a world where he wasn’t forced to fight tooth and nail for every dollar, unable to trust anyone?
Tank took in a sharp breath, turning at a snail’s pace. If his hair were any longer, it would have been tousled, but when he rolled to his back, his droopy eyes betrayed that he’d been sleeping just moments ago. “Clover? What’s wrong?”
Clover hugged Tank as tightly as he could and pushed his face against his neck, even though he knew he might be pushed away. “I can’t stand myself.”
This must have awoken Tank completely, because he cleared his throat and rolled them over so that they were both on their sides. The scent of soap still clung to his skin and Clover wished to rub his face in it again.
“What are you talking about?” Tank asked, using one hand to keep his head up while he studied Clover.
The question took Clover from anxious to desperate within a single heartbeat. He was way past dignity right now.
“I’ve fucked up with everyone. Please don’t kick me out.” Clover sobbed, unable to hold in the emotions boiling inside him. Here he was. Reduced to begging after the display of pride from earlier.
So pathetic.
Tank exhaled and placed one of his enormous hands on Clover’s arm. “I admit, the atmosphere isn’t so great right now. I don’t think asking for honesty was really too much.”
Clover exhaled and pushed under Tank’s arm in hopes he wouldn’t be pushed away. He usually felt threatened by the imposing presence of men so much bigger than him, but Tank’s stable personality encouraged the kind of trust Clover never offered anyone.
“I just… I argued with, Boar. He’s been nothing but nice to me. Almost too sweet and nice, and I panicked.”
Tank swept Clover’s hair from his face with a gentleness his thick fingers shouldn’t be capable of. “Why? Why did you antagonize him? You must see he likes you. If you don’t like him back, there are nicer ways to say it.”
“I do like him. A lot. And I shouldn’t. ‘Cause you’ve all got each other, but this journey with you will end for me eventually.” He stared into Tank’s face, desperate to focus on the eyes and make the image clearer without his glasses. “I’m so jealous of what you have.”
Tank exhaled, moving his hand to Clover’s cheek. Was it just Clover’s imagination, or did he lean closer too?
“What do we have?”
“Each other. You’ve got trust. When I’m around you I feel so looked after, but I know it’s just for now, and I don’t wanna settle into this false security. So when Boar told me how much he likes me, I freaked out. I said awful things to push him away. I don’t know how to make it up to him, but I didn’t want to be forced to apologize either. It’s like I’ve got this weight on my chest, and I can’t lift it myself anymore.”
Tank’s fingertips moved against the sensitive skin around Clover’s ear, stirring sensations that made Clover shift that bit closer, too. “We share trust for a reason. None of us is a liar. Each would risk their life for all the others. This kind of bond isn’t just given. It has to be earned, Clover. And if you want to make things better, coming clean about your mistakes and apologizing to Boar would be a good start.”
Clover ran his hand up Tank’s side, so relieved to be allowed to touch his man-mountain despite all that had happened. “I’m sorry I lied. It’s a habit I’m working on. It’s got me through some tough times, so it’s my default.” Explaining himself to Tank was only the first step to forgiveness, but it lifted some of the weight that had strained Clover’s heart. “I want you to trust me.”
Tank lowered his head to the pillow, still caressing Clover. “Why don’t you tell me something, then? Something you tried to hide?”
Anxiety rose in Clover’s throat. He was used to keeping things to himself, but Tank offered him an opening, and he wasn’t going to blow it this time. “I don’t have parents,” he whispered in the end. “I mean, I do, everyone does, but I was found in a clover field. It’s why I’m called Clover. I’m on my own.”
Tank pulled him closer, cradling Clover’s head against his bare torso. It was warm and smelled like safety, so Clover let himself relax into it, savoring the sense of belonging, even if it was fake.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said. He didn’t try to tell Clover how little he
’d missed or convince him that being an orphan toughened up his character. He was just there. Listening.
So Clover went on. “There are no friends in New York. I’ve got nowhere to go and someone is after me. I’m scared.” He sobbed, and didn’t even try to hold it in this time. For once, he dropped his act and let go.
Tank gathered him in a tight hug, until their legs entwined and Clover’s face was tucked into the crook of Tank’s neck. His chin rubbed the top of Clover’s head, soon followed by a soft kiss. “I’ve got you. We’re not good guys, but we aren’t bad either. We’ll keep you safe, give you time to decide what you want to do.”
Relief flooded Clover so intensely tears wouldn’t stop streaming down his face. The gentle touch was in such stark contrast to Pyro’s rough, punishing fuck Clover found himself on the verge of breaking down, but instead, he kissed Tank on the lips, wordlessly begging for tenderness. He wanted to feel that someone cared about him, to have Tank’s strong hands roam all over his body and claim him. He’d never felt that way for any of his boyfriends. He’d never let any of them in, never trusted any of them the way he trusted Tank. Maybe it was reckless of Clover to open up to a stranger who’d asked for his body in exchange for protection, but he already knew Tank was a man of his word.
The kiss was slow, tender and languid as if it was the first time and they were only getting to know each other. Tank entwined their fingers and pushed Clover back, rolling on top, but never let their lips part. His strong, heavy body was so welcome, so wanted Clover could hardly contain his emotions.
By the time Tank trapped Clover under him, the need to get rid of clothes and be together was so overwhelming Clover hadn’t heard what Tank was asking him at first.
“Do you want this, Clover?” he asked, hand in Clover’s hair, knees between his thighs.
“Yes, Daddy.” Clover dared a smile. Just uttering the pet name made his insides melt in excitement. He tried to steal another kiss, but Tank pulled himself up, his mouth drifting out of reach.
Their Bounty (Dark Gay Harem Contemporary Romance) (Four Mercenaries Book 1) Page 13
