Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection

by K. A. Merikan

  “We’re not letting the boy out of sight for his own good.” Tank must have been itching for that conclusion, because he jumped to his feet the moment Pyro stopped talking and walked up to the window where he gestured for Clover to come back.

  Boar pressed his back to the chair, as if he were a snail and wanted to hide inside its shell, but it wasn’t happening. Pyro would not let this go, even if Boar’s soft heart was willing to.

  “Come on, come on. We’ve decided what to do with you!” he shouted, angry that regardless of the fury he felt, the gentle sway of Clover’s hips still made him stare. That he still wanted the boy, no matter how hurtful and annoying he was being.

  Clover watched him from behind his glasses with defiance painted all over his face. “With me? What have I done?”

  Tank closed the door when Clover entered. “You tell me what you did wrong, boy, and maybe we can work out options other than the belt for you.”

  The belt.

  Heat burst in Pyro’s head, and he touched the leather strap keeping up his own jeans, before rubbing the grenade-shaped buckle. Despite the pretty pink lips pressing into a thin line and blotches of red splashed over Clover’s face, the boy was still utterly fuckable.

  “I’ll gladly teach him a lesson.”

  Clover’s eyes went wider. “I didn’t do anything!”

  Tank sighed. “You won’t be doing it,” he said to Pyro. “You’ve got a grudge, and punishment isn’t about revenge.”

  Clover’s breath hitched, and he hugged himself, for once looking like the picture of innocence. “What ‘punishment’?”

  Tank forced Clover’s chin up. “Come on, boy. You know what you did. We talked about respect and honesty. You’ve been a shit to Boar, and now you’re lying about it. I’ve only got so much patience.”

  The flush on the pretty face spilled down his graceful neck. “Why do you think it’s me who’s lying? Maybe he’s the perv who wants to see me punished, huh?”

  Boar’s head snapped up, and he moved as if he wanted to leave, but Pyro pushed him down and kept him in the chair. He couldn’t believe the audacity of this little prick!

  Drake hissed. “I told you he doesn’t deserve our help.”

  Tank’s face was going red with anger, and Pyro didn’t miss his fists clamping down on air. There was only so long any of them would allow Clover to keep up this pathetic charade.

  “Makes sense. We should believe a boy we barely know over a trusted friend.”

  Clover stilled, silent for endless seconds. Pyro had no idea what new lies could be popping up in his head. “Fine,” he said in the end. “Seeing as I can’t convince you, what do you want from me?”

  Pyro approached Clover and yanked at his T-shirt, practically tossing him at Boar. “Apologize!”

  Clover yelped, and it infuriated Pyro beyond what was reasonable that the little shit looked to Tank for salvation. Like his attitude wasn’t bad enough, did he now want to break down the bonds that kept their group in one piece? Because if Tank got soft on Clover and sided with him over this, the trust the four of them had built across years of working together would be marred by a deep crack.

  With no help coming from Tank though, Clover turned to Pyro, eyes fierce despite the constant motion of his pupils. “Or what?”

  “There is no other way, Clover,” Tank said. “Apology or the belt. Or we’re kicking you out, and you can see how you like having to fend for yourself.”

  That gave Clover the pause Pyro wanted to see. His face was getting redder by the second, and his pale eyes pulsated left and right at an increased pace. But then, the pretty, fuckable lips paled further. Pyro wished he wasn’t so obsessed with the boy’s appearance, because lusting for someone so obtuse was driving him mad.

  “The belt then,” Clover said, looking straight at Pyro, who wanted to tackle him then and there.

  “I’m gonna snap your fucking neck!” he growled, but Tank pulled him back before the surprise on Clover’s face could have turned into full-on terror.

  Tank pulled his belt out of the loops in a languid move, as if to give Clover yet more time to change his mind. Since Clover didn’t move and just stood there with his arms crossed, Tank gestured at the table.

  “Pants down, palms on the table.”

  Boar scowled, averting his gaze, as if he didn’t even want to participate in this. But fuck that. It wasn’t Boar who should be ashamed of his actions or pulling back! They’d been far too lenient with the pretty, sexy, slutty piece of shit. Fucker looked like an angel but was devil’s spawn.

  Clover’s gaze briefly met his, and he faced the table, opening his pants at a pace so slow one might think he wanted to tease more force out of Tank. Pyro had enough.

  He stepped closer and yanked the jeans and underwear all the way to Clover’s knees. The boy yelped and looked back over his shoulder, triggering the memory of the last time he did that when they were fucking, mouth still dripping with Boar’s spunk.

  “I was doing it!” Clover complained with his teeth bared, but at least he was losing some of that false dignity, because one could only remain calm for so long while waiting for a beating with his ass bare.

  “Oh, really? This isn’t a strip show. Didn’t you say it yourself? We have a transaction going, and you broke the rules,” Pyro said, twisting back Clover’s arms with such ease it gave him a thrill despite the unpleasantness of this situation.

  “That’s enough,” Tank said.

  If Pyro didn’t have so much respect for Tank, he would have argued, but he glared at Clover one more time and stepped back. “If he’s not apologizing, you better make a show of his remorse. I’ll be hearing you scream, Clo, one way or another.”

  Drake bit the inside of his lip, and Pyro couldn’t help but notice him adjusting his pants. Of course. The hypocritical bastard was into it, too.

  Tank took a deep breath as he folded the broad, well-used belt into a loop and hovered behind Clover, his eyes trained on the perfect bubbles of Clover’s ass. He was hesitating, or maybe just mesmerized by the beauty of Clover’s hole, but before Pyro could have urged him on, the belt fell to the naked skin with a loud smack.

  Pyro expected a yelp, the hair on his arms prickling in anticipation, so when it didn’t come, he felt betrayed and frustrated despite the red line appearing on Clover’s white skin. The boy’s body tensed, tiny dimples appearing on his ass cheeks, but no sound came out of his mouth.

  Tank put his hand on the small of Clover’s back and brought the belt down on skin again with a loud whoosh. The boy made the tiniest whimper this time and got to his toes, but that was it. His spine curved up and he clenched his fists, but still barely made a sound.

  “Give it to me,” Pyro growled and extended his hand for the belt, but Tank squinted and shook his head.

  “No.”

  Boar covered the lower part of his face with his hands, watching the tiny movement of Clover’s hips, hypnotized despite his hurt feelings. He deserved to hear the apologies he was owed, and Pyro would make that happen even if Clover’s ungrateful ass was to end up with permanent marks.

  “Apologize!” Pyro said, stepping along the table and twisting his fingers in the pale waves of hair. Clover did not want to move his head, keeping his nose pressed to the wood, but Pyro made him look up in the very moment Tank smacked him again.

  The boy bit down on his bottom lip, and tears pooled in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Worse yet, he shook his head in defiance.

  “Let him go,” Tank said. “He’s chosen his path, and his ass is paying for it.”

  “Why? Since when you’re the boss of everything, huh? He says he sold himself to all of us. Not just to you. That’s what he told Boar,” Pyro growled pressing Clover’s face hard to the table when Tank took a broad swing and sent the belt to the pert ass.

  Tank took a deep breath. “That right, boy?”

  “You know it yourself,” Clover spat. He wasn’t looking up, but his body was tense as a string, and
he shifted his weight time and time again. “How many more?”

  “One,” Tank said and made the last strike count.

  Clover let out a choked scream that he didn’t manage to stifle in time. He was breathing hard and didn’t even fight Pyro’s hold on his hair.

  Drake leaned back in his front row seat. “You sure that’s enough?” he asked Tank.

  “Fuck you!” Clover spat, clenching his fingers into fists.

  Drake smirked in time for another smack to hit Clover’s skin.

  “Behave!” Tank roared.

  Pyro sucked in air, his gaze darting from Boar to the pretty face covered by white hair. His head was a bubble of buzzing heat that needed release. But worst of all, his cock reacted to the sight of the red welts left behind on smooth skin. Clover stirred his hips up and down, making his beautiful buttocks jiggle, as if they were inviting them all for a ride. Fucking boy slut.

  “Apologize,” he said in a dull voice.

  Clover was still panting when he looked up at him. “No. Way.”

  Pyro took a deep breath. “What did he say this arrangement was, Boar?”

  “An exchange,” Boar muttered.

  Pyro spread his arms. “I don’t see how I’m getting anything out of it right now.”

  Tank pulled the boy up by the arm and tried to hug him, but Clover shoved him away like a cat angry about being picked up.

  “I’m fine!”

  Tank’s face hardened. “Honesty, Clover.”

  The boy’s face was red, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “And I said, I’m fine.”

  What an insolent little bitch. Pyro took a deep breath and pushed him right back on the table. “So you’re our slut until we reach New York. That’s what you want?” he demanded, his eyes pulsing as his gaze trailed down Clover’s back and to the tempting shadow between his buttocks.

  His dick demanded attention.

  Clover’s lips parted, showing Pyro the bite marks on the bottom one. “Are you saying you want to fuck me now? I thought you hated me.”

  Pyro rubbed his hips against the welts, knowing his jeans would feel rough against the whipped skin. He could barely think when the bulge at the front of his jeans pushed its way between the buttocks. “A hole’s a hole, and yeah, I feel like it.” He watched the twitch on Clover’s face, ready to see tears, ready to break the boy and have him admit what a shit he was being.

  But Clover just turned his face away. “Fine.”

  The word alone was like the matador’s red cape waved in front of a bull. Nothing was fine, and Pyro would get a reaction out of the boy one way or another.

  Chapter 11 – Clover

  Clover’s brain provided no answers. His skin was on fire, and when Pyro grabbed, pinched, and rubbed himself against it, it felt like being flayed. Would he be fucked now? Just like that, without even an attempt at offering him something in return like the previous times? He couldn’t believe Boar would rat on him like that, but what did he expect? They all had each other’s backs and Clover was an outsider, a convenient fuck, even if keeping him safe was a challenge.

  He’d been cozying up to them when he should have been alert at all times, and this was how the honeymoon period ended—with his ass raw from Tank’s belt, and Pyro up for making him hurt even more.

  But that was what he’d signed up for. If his solo ride with Drake and the attack that had ensued had taught him anything, it was that danger was tangible. If he didn’t have protection, he’d be even worse off than the people he and Drake had left in a ditch. Nothing was fun and games anymore. They weren’t on a road trip, but in a life or death situation, and Clover would be coming out of it alive, even if all Pyro needed him for was convenience.

  “I don’t even care anymore,” Boar said, rising from the sofa. He seemed at loss and stubbornly refused to look at Clover, as if having his stupid fantasies burst negated all the good things that had happened prior to that.

  “But I do,” Pyro growled, smacking Clover’s ass so hard, keeping quiet was an impossibility.

  Clover looked back in shock, with the yelp still fresh on his lips. “Tank! You said he’s not allowed—”

  Tank stood with his arms crossed, his expression merciless. Clover could just as well have been talking to a wall. “Not allowed to punish. I recall you liked a slap or two when fucking.”

  The heat in Clover’s cheeks exploded down his body, and his shoulders went rigid. He couldn’t believe this was happening to him. He’d been scared when they’d first established this… arrangement, but then he’d got comfortable.

  Too comfortable, it seemed. No matter what, he’d still be safer with these guys than on his own. Especially without a penny to his name. What would he do if more people were sent after him? He had no fighting skills and could only run for so long.

  Better the devil you know.

  “I’m out. I’m not feeling it,” Boar said and left, his footsteps getting quieter by the moment, like a sign that he didn’t want to take responsibility for the pain his betrayal caused Clover. But that was to be expected. It was good to know that everyone’s priorities lay in themselves, no matter how friendly they acted.

  Clover’s mind was sinking into nothingness when a sudden push at his hole made him raise his head in panic. Something cold was squirted straight into him, and before he could have flinched away from the sudden, matter-of fact nature of it, a large hand that he immediately recognized as Tank’s squeezed his shoulder.

  “Are you sure this is fine, Clover?”

  Clover shrugged off the pseudo-caring touch. “It’s fine.”

  But it wasn’t. Not because he didn’t want to have sex with Pyro. They were comfortable with each other, Pyro was a wild fucker and gave amazing rim jobs, but this time was different. This time Pyro wanted to show off his power and punish Clover with his dick, not come. That would be only an afterthought.

  Drake poked Clover’s cheek, and the touch was so surprising Clover blinked a few times before looking at him. The face that had mean smirks for him in the past now expressed mild worry. “It doesn’t feel fine.”

  Clover saw red. “The fuck? Since when do you care about my feelings? I’m okay with this. I’m okay with the setup. I’m not okay with being hunted like some rare game. Other than that, I’ll live.”

  Drake sneered at him and raised his hands, recoiling like a cat that just had chili powder blown at its nose. “Oh-kay. Forgot you were a little slut up for any dick that wants to stuff your holes. Excuse me for raising this concern, cumbucket.”

  Clover’s throat choked, and he pressed his forehead against the table, listening to the sound of the breaking condom packet and waiting for the inevitable.

  Arousal wasn’t there in the mix of emotions flooding him, so when Pyro’s dick stabbed at him, he grabbed the edges of the table top and hoped this would be over sooner rather than later.

  He half-expected hearing Drake’s lighter pop open, since he’d so often watched Clover have sex with the others, but the man left the cabin with a slam of the door.

  At least Pyro had the sense to use lots of lube, so when he grabbed Clover’s hips and drilled his thick cock in, the discomfort came more from the welts on his ass than from inside. Even though the first couple of seconds bordered on excruciating when Clover’s body resisted the rapid thrust.

  “Boar might be a softie, but I’m not, Clo, so if you think the belt was the easy way out, you’ve got another thing coming,” Pyro whispered into Clover’s ear as he leaned over him and kicked his feet wider apart. He felt heavy, and his fresh, citrusy scent was just a reminder that this was Clover’s chore and had nothing to do with pleasure.

  Clover choked down the yelp that threatened to leave his mouth and pressed his face harder to the smooth wood. He refused to answer. If that was what Pyro wanted from him, he could have it, but nothing more. All the suggestions that they could all have fun together and enjoy the ride rotted away. Those guys were like everyone else who’d used Clover in his life. Th
ey were not to be trusted, no matter how pretty their lies seemed.

  So he clenched his teeth and held on to the table when Pyro’s brutal thrusts pushed the piece of furniture forward, his dick hitting a curve in the channel inside Clover and making his insides tremble with unwanted arousal. His whole body throbbed with heat, and keeping things locked inside his brain became much harder when Pyro’s fucking got into that frantic pace where moaning wasn’t an option but a requirement.

  “That’s it. Can’t help loving the D, can you?” Pyro muttered as he continued at a relentless pace, kneading Clover’s ass as if it was dough.

  Clover groaned, avoiding any eye contact, but when Pyro grabbed his dick, which stubbornly started to fill when his prostate kept getting punched over and over, he couldn’t stay still anymore. Bucking his hips, he got to his toes, wishing this would stop already so he could finish himself off in peace, so he wouldn’t have to participate anymore. But Pyro was intent on taking his time and vacated Clover’s hole, smacking his buttocks while twisting his hand over Clover’s hardening dick.

  “Oh, fuck! Fuck!” Clover mewled, arching back in desperation. He hated what Pyro could do to him with his restless hands. Hated the involuntary nature of his orgasm building, despite the brutal assault on his ass.

  “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.