The two of them had been gone for an entire week to participate in an intense shibari course/SPA combo that left them both well-rested. Clover knew it would be difficult to return to proper training after seven days of tasting new foods and general overindulgence, but if even Drake thought it was fine to let go sometimes, he wasn’t going to resist the temptation.
“You better leave out the burger bun and sauces if you want your abs back.” He grinned and pinched the miniscule fat on Drake’s stomach. Clover loved him either way, but it was fun to tease.
Drake squinted, briefly looking at Clover before focusing on the smooth road through the woods again. “You’ll be sorry you said that when I start working on you. This will be your last laugh.”
Clover smirked and offered Drake another sushi roll. “Maybe that’s what I want.”
“I remember you really enjoyed being upside down last night. Maybe that’s what we should do so everyone could have a go at your mouth?” Drake whispered, pressing a kiss to Clover’s temple.
Regardless of all the dirty talk, Clover felt completely at ease with Drake and the others. Their five-person relationship was unconventional, but it gave him all the tenderness and safety he craved. This past week had been incredibly sweet, even though he’d spent much of it in bondage. Maybe it was because Drake never had a boyfriend before Clover, so he was taking extra care to make him feel special, but Clover appreciated every minute, nevertheless.
“Almost as fun as Disney World…” He glanced at Drake and pushed the sushi roll into his mouth as soon as the man opened his lips.
It was an ongoing bone of discontent as to which vacation had been better. The one with Drake in Seattle, or the one Pyro and Boar had taken Clover on two months ago. To be fair, they were difficult to compare, since one was a sophisticated, adult getaway where he’d been treated like a prince, the other—an indulgent opportunity to let Clover’s inner child run free for the first time, but he still liked provoking his men into spoiling him further. He’d even gotten to wear a tiara at Disney World. And not one of those cheap plastic ones either. His had been adorned with crystals, and he’d later gifted it to a young woman who’d accepted her boyfriend’s proposal during the fireworks.
Tank would often take Clover on hiking trips for two days at a time, as he preferred that to expensive outings that ‘fucked up his nutrition and training’. Clover loved the digital detox, the fucking in a tent, and connecting both with nature and his Daddy. What mattered was that each of his partners wanted to spoil him once in a while, be it with massages, too much sugar, or the last gluten-free sausage.
“Are you saying that you’d rather meet Mickey Mouse than levitate in ropes?” Drake asked, though he was joking.
Clover bit his lip, his heart already skipping a beat at the sight of the narrow road leading to Tank’s house. “I mean… Mickey’s ears are kinda sexy. Have you ever considered fucking in fursuits?”
Drake’s deep scowl made Clover laugh out loud.
“You guys did that, didn’t you? Jesus Christ, I hope Pyro doesn’t have that on video,” Drake moaned.
Clover grinned and sank back into his seat. “What happens in Disney World, stays in Disney World.”
“Maybe I should dress you up as a princess in peril then, if you enjoy costumes so much?” Drake said without conviction, but Clover’s attention shifted when he spotted the roof of their house in the distance.
The dark tones of a guitar on the radio were replaced by the sound of a helicopter. Drake frowned, but when the soft, feminine voice of the singer recited the first verse of the song that clearly referenced My Favorite Things from The Sound of Music, his features turned to stone. His index finger shot for the Off button like a bullet.
Clover rolled his eyes at Drake’s hate of modern pop music, but just rolled with it and continued their earlier conversation.
“Prince in peril, please. Draaake, don’t drive like a grandad, we’re almost there.”
“No, it should definitely be a princess. Maybe that would curb your attitude,” Drake said and sped up the hill and around the property. He opened the gate with a remote control, and they headed toward the house.
Clover was on pins and needles, excited to see everyone again, to have some of Pyro’s famous burgers, and to show off what he and Drake had learned.
“I cannot be contained!” Clover laughed, already unbuckling his seatbelt, but they both knew he could definitely be contained with enough rope and a ball gag.
They stopped in front of the house, but even Drake wasn’t bothered to park his van inside the garage in such glorious sunny weather. He caught Clover’s hand and led him to the other side of the building, which already exuded the loveliest aroma of coal and cooked meat.
“Hey!” Clover yelled, torn between squeezing Drake’s hand and running off to jump one of his other lovers.
The house was their sanctuary. Elegant, modern yet fitting into its forest surroundings, Clover loved everything about it. Especially the hammock-style bathtub, which cost Tank a ridiculous amount of cash. But regardless of all the money spent to make the place comfortable, for Clover its appeal lay in the peace and safety it offered.
In the warm glow of the afternoon sun, Tank’s huge form emerged from behind the building, and he offered them a wide smile, spreading his arms for Clover, who ran his way without thinking. He jumped on Tank and clung to him like a little monkey, suspended in the caring arms.
“Daddy, I missed you!”
Tank snorted, squeezing Clover’s ass. “Have you been a good boy?”
“He had his moments,” Drake said, standing so close Clover could almost feel his warmth through the T-shirt.
Clover kissed Tank gently at first, just a peck, but he was already dying for more, and Tank didn’t hold back, opening Clover’s lips with his tongue and lazily exploring what was his. He even slid his tongue over Clover’s gums, making Clover shiver.
“I’ve been as good as I can be,” he whispered, looking into Tank’s dark eyes.
In the week when Clover had been away, Tank’s skin had gotten even darker, so he must have enjoyed the outdoors a lot. Clover buried his face in the broad neck and watched Drake squeeze Tank’s bicep in one of those small, intimate gestures that had developed between the two since Clover became an addition to their unconventional family.
“Still working out, I see,” Drake said.
The tender moment was over when punishing techno music scared birds from a nearby tree.
Tank scowled and carried Clover all the way to the patio where Pyro was busy doing some kind of monkey dance by the grill. He was naked, which meant that his dick was swinging dangerously close to the hot metal.
“Pyro! Don’t get that extra sausage on the grill!” Clover yelled, still attached to Tank.
Boar was already getting up from a sunchair with a wide smile. “Babe! You’re back!”
Tank put Clover down, so he could greet the others, and he directed his footsteps straight to the speaker resting near the grill. “You’re gonna scare off the all the animals with this noise,” he shouted to get through the racket, but Pyro only noticed that someone had spoken to him when the sound died.
“Clo!” He put down his tongs and ran up to Clover, snatching him against his naked body before he could have reached Boar.
Clover laughed and play-wrestled Pyro as if he were dying to get to Boar instead, but in the end, Pyro hugged Clover from the back, while Boar embraced them both with his long arms, creating the perfect human sandwich.
Boar’s kisses felt like home. As did Pyro’s dick pushing between Clover’s thighs and slowly getting harder. This guy had the libido of a stud dog, but deep down, the heart of a dog too, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
Pyro sniffed him, confirming Clover’s inner narrative about him. “Your hair smells of cigarettes. Has Drake been smoking in the car?”
Drake stepped closer. “It is my car. Now let him go. We need to shower after the trip.”
Pyro’s mouth stretched into a wolfish smile, and he rubbed the faces tattooed on his pecs as he met Clover’s gaze. “I think you’ll only get to eat later, Clover. Because I need to have a taste of your meat first.”
Boar gave Clover a sweet, gentle kiss before releasing him into Drake’s arms. “We’ll be ready when you come back!”
Clover’s smile couldn’t have gotten any wider. He grabbed Drake’s hand again, and they walked into the house, which was cool in comparison to the sunny outdoors, but even in here the air smelled of pine and grass.
“Do you think Tank ever thought he’d be sharing this house with so many people?” he asked, as they headed upstairs to the largest bathroom.
Drake’s hand gravitated to Clover’s ass halfway there, and by the time Drake shut the door, enclosing them in the bright space with a skylight in the roof, it pushed under Clover’s pants. “I think he likes it.”
“Even when he complains about the mess.” Clover smiled and slid into Drake’s arms with butterflies fluttering in his stomach. The affection they shared was so hard-earned, and had taken so long to develop, Clover still had goosebumps when he trailed his fingers up Drake’s chest. Especially as Drake let no one else touch him this much. Even Tank, whom he trusted with his life.
Drake’s mouth spread into a smile, and he pressed his lips to Clover’s head, enjoying the hug for a couple more seconds. They undressed, but instead of rushing through the shower, they took their sweet time washing one another as warm water cascaded around them like tropical rain.
With the heat outside, they wouldn’t even need to worry about drying hair. Clover sighed in disappointment when Drake left, since he was feeling the beginnings of an erection, but he was sure his lust would be satisfied soon anyway. He just didn’t know how.
“Come out when you’re ready, and I’ll prepare the ropes. I want to show them how you fly,” Drake told him.
Heat tugged on Clover’s dick, and he switched off the water, gingerly stepping onto the heated floor. He winked at Drake but was left with fantasies of what this promise entailed. During the workshops, they’d done many positions that weren’t ideal for fucking, existing merely for the aesthetic pleasure of the viewer and enjoyment of the rope’s confines.
It had been early in their relationship that Clover had understood that seeing his partner struggle was a huge turn-on for Drake. So Clover indulged him, and a couple of times had even pretended that he’d gotten stuck somewhere and needed Drake’s help. His intent must have been obvious enough for Drake, since more often than not, the pseudo-perilous situations Clover had gotten into ended up with some sort of sexual encounter, from ‘molestation’ to outright fucking.
Clover took his sweet time with body lotion, and even used a coffee scrub on his ass before applying the moisturizer. He wanted to be the perfect temptation when he walked out to see his guys, and he was pretty sure they’d appreciate the waxing he’d gotten at the spa, even if it wouldn’t last long before the hair grew back.
He smiled at his reflection, so content his heart could burst.
Once he was ready to meet the needs of the three testosterone-fueled men who’d had to last a week without him, he walked outside without even a towel to preserve his modesty.
Though to be fair, he hardly had any modesty left, and neither did his partners, who he could see through the huge windows in the living room. They’d all undressed, with the exception of Drake, who remained in a somber black outfit consisting of a muscle shirt and jeans. It was always somewhat strange to see how many shapes hot male bodies came in. Drake’s was trim, with an elongated torso, Pyro’s compact yet shredded, and while Tank and Boar’s sizes were comparable, where Tank was insanely devoid of any fat, Boar was like a muscle-packed teddy bear.
And they all, without exception, found Clover’s form impossible to resist.
It flattered Clover. In the last year, he’d gotten a bit more muscle definition thanks to the training he did with them all, but he was still the unassuming size which he’d learned to embrace. One day, when he unleashed his new skills on the world, an enemy would not expect his slender fingers to yield a gun, and he was determined to become an invaluable asset to the guys.
“Is everyone decent?” he called out from behind the kitchen door that led straight into the backyard. No one and nothing would be decent today.
Tank rose, presenting his impressive frame. He called Clover closer with a gesture, and the pull of that wordless order was impossible to resist. Clover’s mouth dried when Tank spun him around, and cool, creamy liquid drizzled on his back.
“There, boy, we need to take care of you first,” Tank said.
Clover whined at the scent of sunscreen, but there was no avoiding it if he didn’t want to be in a world of pain tomorrow. “Thank you, Daddy,” he said with resignation.
Pyro came closer, scanning Clover from head to toe. He’d gotten a new tattoo recently, hands on either side of his dick, and Clover couldn’t help but stare at it. There was so much appreciation in the green eyes that Clover felt as if he was about to get an award, not let others use him. To be fair, he did thoroughly enjoy being used. “Fuck, did I miss this view, Clo. Give us a spin.”
Boar pushed past Pyro and took the sun cream from Tank, carefully spreading large quantities over the front of Clover’s body. But when both Tank’s and Boar’s hands reached his hips, they both kneeled, moving their attention from his feet upward this time, until anticipation took hold of Clover’s cock, and awakened it to greet Boar.
But Pyro’s hand sliding between Clover’ buttocks took the cake. Clover glanced over his shoulder, enjoying the attention of the muscle-packed, tattooed guy who groaned as he rubbed the skin around Clover’s hole.
“You’re so smooth,” Pyro rasped, eyes fixed on Clover’s ass, the flames he had for brows lowering over his eyes. “I’ll be eating your ass for hours, baby boy.”
Yes. Oh, yes.
“Like you did before my vacation to leave me with good memories?” Clover teased, remembering the epic rimming that had made him come twice. His hole twitched in anticipation.
“Bring him over,” Drake called, and when Clover looked up, meeting his dark gaze, the rope attached to a branch on the old tree growing close to the house made his dick tingle. How would he be tied? To provide easy access to both his holes? Suspended in a hogtie? What would it be?
He yelped when Tank swept him off his feet. His wet hair still dripped, but he had no doubt it would be dry by the time he came.
Pyro grabbed himself a beer. “I heard you’ve learned a lot in Seattle.”
Drake snorted. “I was the one actually learning. Clover trained how to stop fidgeting.”
Clover protested when Tank put him down in front of Drake. “There’s so much more to it!”
Drake dangled a ball gag in front of Clover’s face. “Is there? Open up.”
Clover pretend-scowled, but the insistent way with which Drake squeezed his jaw was enough to convince him to comply. The hard rubber was secure in his mouth, but while it felt fine at first, he’d start slobbering, and with time his jaw would start aching. Now, however, surrounded by men who’d surely put him into place if he tried to run, he surrendered control and let Drake work on him.
By staying still.
Goddamn him.
The others watched as Drake created a complex web of rope on Clover’s chest. His arms were tied back and immobilized in a way Clover always found comforting, as if the lilac rope, which Drake picked because it went well with Clover’s coloring, was there to embrace him as well as contain him. Jute was soft against his thighs too, and when Drake attached the ties on his back, arms, and upper legs to a thick ring attached to the branch, he knew he’d be suspended with his face facing the ground.
Drake then worked on Clover’s damp hair, weaving the rope into the braid he was making, and this way even Clover’s head was fixed to that single spot above. With the ball-gag blocking him from speaking, he was definite
ly ‘contained’ at this point. He’d be the main attraction, but he couldn’t express it other than with longing looks as others chatted, not rushing Drake’s work.
Every time Drake wound the rope around Clover’s thighs, he brushed his fingers over the skin, teasing in the most sadistic way—too gently. At this point, Clover couldn’t even rock his hips much, but he didn’t want to. Tank often called him bratty, but the more Drake restricted his movement, the calmer he got. Clover stopped fighting, stopped running his mouth, and submitted to what was being done to him, even if he didn’t like having his nipples pinched all that much. He let Drake do it regardless, not only because his lover enjoyed it, but as yet another sign of his helplessness.
Pyro took photos of the work in progress, telling Clover he’d be jerking off to those later, but even without that, Clover’s cock was rock hard by the time Drake turned him around and checked the strength of the branch.
Suspension was amazing, and Clover couldn’t wait for it to start. Even now, when Drake bound his ankle to the rope tied around his thigh, he could still fight for balance on one leg. But that would end the moment the other leg was pushed up. From then on, he’d be at Drake’s mercy.
Pyro exhaled, and his stiff dick bounced into Clover’s view as he filmed a close-up of Clover’s face with his phone. A splash of red spread from his chest all the way to his face, and when he stretched, the damp head of his cock slapped Clover’s cheek.
“He’s not ready yet!” Drake said, pulling Clover’s other leg up. This one gesture sent Clover into a floating world of vulnerability, which he did not want to escape.
“He looks pretty ready to me,” Pyro said, grabbing his cock and poking it at Clover’s forehead.
“I still gotta do the toes! Stop spoiling it.”
Boar bit his lip. “Won’t even spare his toes? He’s not gonna do anything with them.”
Drake shook his head as he looped thin rope around Clover’s big toe. “It’s for balance and to keep his feet up.”
Four Mercenaries - The Complete Collection Page 29