Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection

by K. A. Merikan

  “Enough of the foreplay, boy,” Tank whispered, and before Clover’s lust-soaked mind could consider what that meant, the mercenary rolled him over and forced his jeans all the way to his knees.

  Clover had been hot before, but now his face flooded with pure fire. The cuffs forced him into an embarrassing position—hands close together and one knee far forward, which exposed him more to the man who manhandled him with ease. His mouth still ached from the earlier onslaught, and he hardly knew where the floor and where the ceiling was when Tank rubbed his lube-dripping fingers against Clover’s hole.

  Everything was happening too fast, yet Clover’s stupid brain wanted more. He gasped for air, moaned, a mess of awkwardly placed limbs placed where this animal of a man wanted him.

  “Love your ass already,” Tank said, and Clover considered it a badge of honor that Tank was also panting from excitement.

  Without the means to move into a more convenient position, Clover rested his cheek on the pillow, his neck bent, bare ass in the air, while rough hands kneaded his buttocks as if they were dough. But then, Tank’s weight sank the mattress lower, and when his hand rested on Clover’s nape, breathing became almost impossible. Lust was eating up Clover’s insides, and when the hard, wide cock pushed at his sphincter, a low, prolonged cry left his lips.

  “That’s it, boy. Open up for Daddy.”

  Clover mewled something he couldn’t decipher when the cock pushed into him, claiming his ass. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, swooped up into the hottest sex he’d ever had. Tears forced their way into his eyes, but all he could do was obediently spread his thighs as much as the jeans at his knees allowed.

  He shouldn’t have been liking it so much. He should have been much more in control of what was going on with his own body, but he couldn’t deny how responsive he was to such treatment.

  A ‘yes’ from him got swallowed up by a moan, heat travelling from Tank’s hand at his nape, all the way to his cock. He felt so tiny beneath this man, so powerless, and yet so safe if he only proved he was a good boy.

  Tank started fucking him in earnest, despite the wide cock still leaving Clover with a bit of discomfort. None of that mattered when Tank pistoned his dick in and out, holding him down with a steel grip. Every time Tank brushed his dick against Clover’s prostate, he forced Clover to cry out, moan and whimper, not caring that everyone could hear him in the quiet house. It was a detail he didn’t care about. He wanted this moment to go on forever so he’d never have to feel the safety blanket of Tank’s presence disappear. His ass burned from the friction, each thrust teasing his pleasure centers until he was completely brainless, a ragdoll for Tank to move around on the bed.

  They changed position twice, and each time his cooperation wasn’t even taken into account. Tank simply moved Clover to his side and fucked him hard while droplets of sweat rained on Clover’s body with each harsh thrust. The second time, Tank had him on his back, majestic like a giant taking an offering presented to him in exchange for protection.

  When Tank pulled out of Clover once more, it seemed like he wanted to rearrange them again, but then he climbed the bed to kneel over Clover and yanked off the condom, presenting the dark cock that was about to burst.

  Clover opened his lips without thinking, ready to suck him again despite his own dick dying for attention, but Tank pumped his cock fast, right in front of Clover’s face. He came with a low grunt, his cum hitting Clover’s cheek, his open lips and even his forehead. Some dripped to his chin and his neck, but all Clover could focus on was the sated expression blooming on Tank’s face as he slid his fingers into Clover’s hair and stroked it.

  “That’s a good boy.” And when he took his hand off his cock, he rubbed some cum over Clover’s bottom lip with a grin. His chest rose and fell like gigantic bellows. “So nice and filthy for me.”

  Clover was too tired to speak, but when Tank reached into his pocket and revealed handcuff keys, he wanted to beg. Once he was free, he could jerk off and finally complete his pleasure, but Tank pushed away his hand, forcing him to sprawl on his back instead. The momentary dread that he’d be forced to endure this any further was replaced by excitement when Tank’s squeezed Clover’s cock.

  Clover whined, trembling all over, his ass raw. “Please, I can’t wait.”

  Tank squeezed Clover’s cock at the base. “Clean yourself first,” he ordered, nudging Clover’s chin with his knuckles.

  Clover didn’t even think, just reached to his face, gathered some of the cum and licked it off his fingers, purring when its bitterness trickled down his tongue. Tank’s grin meant Clover had done well, and he wanted nothing more than to earn his reward.

  Tank stroked Clover’s cock once. Twice. Faster. Seconds later, Clover came with a sharp cry, his body shivering, wild, completely out of control. Clover would have been begging Tank for a fuck even without their arrangement, but Tank didn’t need to know that.

  What the fuck was this demon of a man?

  Clover sniffed, his head still in the orbit.

  “Good,” Tank rasped, stroking Clover’s hair and moving to kneel by him instead of above him. With a smile, Tank licked the fresh cum off his hand. “You taste as delicious as you look. I’ll be fucking you all the way to New York.”

  Yes, please.

  Chapter 4 - Clover

  After the insane fuck with Tank, Clover hadn’t expected much in terms of affection, so it was surreal to have this massive man take his time washing Clover’s hair in the shower. Tank spared him no attention, running his hands up and down Clover’s legs, his ass, and keeping him close as rivulets of warm water sped down their bodies. The tenderness was so unexpected Clover went with the flow, even though he wasn’t accustomed to being held like this. Exhaustion was his second name, and he settled with his head on Tank’s pec for comfort.

  The past two days had been a whirlwind of near-constant stress, and despite having slept through much of it, his body still remembered the hardships of the long journey and the treatment that left bruises on his fair skin. From the moment he’d opened his eyes, Clover had been forced to deal with the most primal of fears—the one for his life—and while he’d experienced it many times before, it had always been brief moments, not hours.

  Being stuck wondering whether he’d end up as an exotic sex slave, someone’s meal, or a plaything for a gore lover, had taken their toll on his mental energy. Now though, with Tank and the others, he felt safe enough to let himself rest. The agreement he’d chosen to enter was sketchy as hell, and it meant he couldn’t continue doing as he pleased for now, but unlike Riggs or Jerry, those guys had no interest in harming him.

  When Tank turned off the shower, Clover limped back into the room, dripping water all over the thick carpet.

  “Anything else wrong with you other than that leg? Have they fed you?” Tank asked, approaching Clover with a towel. The thing was somewhat rough to the touch but soaked in the liquid so well Clover was dry after a couple of swipes.

  Clover used the towel to get excess moisture out of his long locks, looking down at his injured foot. The cut he’d gotten trying to run off into the desert had opened up again. “It’s fine, I’m okay. Really.” He smiled at the man who’d turned out to be such a strange mix of brash and caring. If Clover was to stay around for longer, he’d need to find out much more about Tank and his crew. And not just about their dicks either. A pretty face and snug holes could only get a boy so far.

  “Sit,” was all Tank said, and Clover followed the command without thinking, resting his naked behind on the crumpled sheets and watching his new protector scoot down by a duffel bag.

  Clover had his glasses back on, and since the world was blurry without them, he hadn’t gotten a good enough look at Tank’s body during sex. Now he could study it in detail, from the firm calves to a back that was almost too wide and firm to be real. Tank was pure muscle under tan skin that was covered by a multitude of black tattoos, and while he could have broken Clover’s n
eck if he wished to get rid of a witness, the confidence with which he moved inspired trust in his abilities rather than fear.

  Tank returned holding a soft white bag marked with a red cross. “Show me that foot.”

  Clover hesitantly extended his foot into Tank’s hand when the man kneeled on the floor. “Why are you doing this?”

  Tank didn’t need to help Clover with the foot or wash his hair to get a fuck out of their arrangement. They’d already established a deal, and Clover couldn’t expect anything beyond protection, especially now that Tank had already seen through his lies about the potential for money at the end of the road.

  Tank frowned, but took out a bottle and sprayed a stinging substance over the cut. “What do you mean why? You’re hurt.”

  Clover hissed at the pain and hugged himself. “You could have just passed me the kit.” He didn’t want to challenge Tank or sound ungrateful, but understanding what Tank was about could be key to ensuring his future safety.

  The guy frowned at him in a way that suggested he didn’t consider Clover capable of a feat as complicated as dressing a cut. He only spoke once he focused on the foot again, wrapping it with a clean bandage. “If I do it myself, I’ll know it’s done correctly.”

  Tank’s proficiency at first aid was obvious, and Clover couldn’t help but feel like a standoffish kitten when there was no need for rejecting the care. He’d learned long ago to take kindness where it was given, though it unnerved him that he didn’t know if it didn’t come with additional strings attached. “Thank you, Daddy,” he teased and ran his fingers over Tank’s shoulder.

  Tank’s skin trembled, and he looked up before pressing a kiss to Clover’s knee. The dressing was done in no time, and he rose, offering Clover his hand. “Time for you to convince the others. Can’t tell them what to do.”

  When Clover reached for his pants, Tank stopped him with a light pinch to the buttock.

  “I think you should show them the goods,” he said with a broad grin.

  Clover met the dark eyes greedily scanning his body. “Oh. Y-you sure? Drake won’t be uncomfortable?”

  Tank shook his head and combed Clover’s long hair with his fingers, arranging his waves on the shoulders. “Drake’s as much into dick as everyone else. If you convince most of us, we will all escort you to your destination.”

  So that was the payment for protection—he was to become a fuck toy for a group of four. Throughout his life, Clover has had plenty of sex, but not with so many guys within a short time frame and only with boyfriends. This could end up pretty intense and rough on his body, but if giving in meant safety, and if he could convince them that he wouldn’t be available all the time, then maybe this could work.

  Clover swallowed, hoping to find room for negotiation. He wished to stay as firm as possible and set some boundaries, but when his gaze met Tank’s eyes, he gave into temptation and rubbed his palm up that strong chest.

  “Aren’t you the leader?” he tried, hoping to win himself favor by appealing to Tank’s vanity. His mind was slowly adjusting to the idea of going out there naked to talk with three dangerous mercenaries. He hoped they wouldn’t mock him at least.

  He sensed a bit of coarse hair under his touch, and the firm knocking of Tank’s heart against the breastbone somehow calmed Clover despite the indecency of it all.

  “I am, but can’t make them do a job that won’t pay,” Tank said, gently kneading Clover’s forearm, his intense eyes as dark as Clover’s were pale.

  Clover took a deep breath when his throat tightened in fear of what was to come. “I get it. And they… I mean, they won’t hurt me, right?”

  Tank smirked, moving his olive fingers along Clover’s rosy flesh. “No. But they’re up for pretty boys. Who knows, maybe they’ll agree to escort you north for the price of a single kiss?” he mused, though the dark smile he offered Clover suggested that wouldn’t be the case. “I’ll be there,” he added in a soothing tone, and prodded Clover forward, leaving no room for straggling.

  Clover was certain that part of parading him out naked was about Tank showing off his conquest.

  The dressing on Clover’s foot had a bit of cotton wool padding, which made walking painless, but Clover’s itched with nerves by the time he left the safety of the locked room and entered the lit corridor. The fact that Tank followed him with no clothes on didn’t make things easier at all. He could hear his own heart thudding furiously like drums before a dangerous circus stunt.

  Drake was the first one to catch his gaze in the living room, and his eyes turned into angry slits.

  “The fuck?” he barked at Tank.

  The moment Pyro spotted Clover from the kitchen, he whistled. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I like it.”

  “We all heard what’s going on,” Boar said, watching them from behind a beer bottle. He seemed relaxed in the beat-up leather chair and without the tactical gear.

  Pyro waved it off and approached Clover like a dog about to sniff a new friend’s butt. He even circled him, to take a close look at everything that was on show, eyes wide with interest.

  Barrel-chested, much shorter than the others, Pyro’s appearance wasn’t as imposing as Tank’s, but every move he made radiated strength and confidence. If it wasn’t for the neon blue hair he wore in a long braid running down the middle of the otherwise shaved head and the green brow tattoos, he might have looked like a regular person.

  “When you look at me, do you see the image move when your eyes do that?” he asked, imitating Clover’s nystagmus.

  “Oh, come on,” Boar moaned, but it didn’t discourage Pyro from getting into Clover’s face and gripping a strand of pale hair.

  Clover crossed his arms on his chest with a groan, even though his insides tightened with worry. He still had no idea what would happen next, and it wasn’t helping his confidence that his dick was on show. “I see just fine with glasses.”

  Tank put his hands over Clover’s shoulders and walked him closer to the table where Drake sat, glaring as if he intended to make things uncomfortable. “Clover’s got a request he wants to make.”

  “Y-yes. I’ve got a job I think you all could help me with.”

  Boar raised his eyebrows. “He knows we’re not a charity, right?”

  Pyro rolled his eyes and nudged Boar with his elbow. “Tank’s got a thing for boys in peril.”

  “How much does he pay?” Drake asked from his corner, dark and slender like a sexy Grim Reaper.

  “The job’s a piece of cake,” Tank said, kneading Clover’s shoulders with his warm hands. There was no doubt Tank was on Clover’s side. He must have really enjoyed himself.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  Clover took a deep breath, still in shock about the ordeal he’d been through. Having to face these men completely naked and with his ass still raw after the fuck with Tank was terrifying. But what other options did he have? “All I’m asking is for you to take me to New York, and I’m offering…” He licked his lips as intense heat trailed through his chest, leaving him cold with a worry that he didn’t dare express. “To be a good companion on the road trip.”

  Boar frowned, combing back his fluffy auburn hair. “Huh?”

  Drake was the first one to understand, and he got up from his chair so abruptly it fell over. “Have you just offered to whore yourself out to us for a lift?”

  Clover spread his arms, uncomfortable with the way Drake had put his offer into words. He’d done some dicey shit in his life, but never anything as outrageous, so he wished Drake hadn’t made it harder for him. “It’s complicated.”

  Pyro took a step closer. “Nothing complicated about it. I’m in.”

  Drake moved from his place in the corner, his tendons stiff as if he were expecting a bomb inside Clover’s body to go off at any second. “You’re pretty enough, I suppose. Why wouldn’t you just sell your ass for a plane ticket and be done with it? Don’t you think it’s fishy?” he asked, looking around his companions in searc
h of support that wasn’t coming.

  Tank put one arm around Clover’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “He’s obviously worried the people who abducted him might still be after him.”

  Boar cocked his head, scanning Clover with eyes that betrayed thirst already. “And you’re up for this?”

  Clover swallowed, reassured by the weight of Tank’s arm, even though he didn’t have much reason to trust him either. “I mean…” He gave Drake a longer glance, in hope of tempting him into the arrangement too. “All of you are hot, and I like sex. It’s gonna be an adventure, right?” His laughter sounded nervous even to his own ears.

  Pyro’s lips stretched into a roguish smile. “I’m so in. We’re both in, right?” he asked Boar, who seemed contemplative, despite the glances of appreciation he kept sending Clover’s way.

  “If he’s really up for us all… Been a while since we shared someone,” he said, putting a bottle of beer into Pyro’s hand, the one that carried his own name on the knuckles. His face was so normal, so kind behind the auburn beard, and his body softer than those of the other men, but he was made of the same stock. He’d had no issue around the two dead bodies back at the abandoned house.

  Drake shook his head with a scowl that for once wasn’t directed only at Clover. “I’m out, but I won’t be a cockblocker. It’s your call. I can go to New York, fine by me.” He didn’t even wait for an answer and walked out of the living room, followed by the invisible storm cloud that made him so sour-faced.

  Tank nudged Clover toward the table. “Go on, boy, show us the goods.”

  “N-now?”

  Tank nodded. “Yes, now.”

  Clover swallowed and looked between Pyro and Boar. Both men gravitated closer when he put his palms on the table, back straight, ass on show. He couldn’t deny that with Tank around to make him feel slightly more secure, this was pretty hot. He was way past worrying about people rejecting him for his albinism. Guys either liked him or they didn’t, and that was that.