Their Obsession (Four Mercenaries 2)

It made sense, even if his head was already raising alarm levels. “I—”

“Mm? Is it bad that I’m in the mood?” Clover nuzzled Drake’s cheek. “I love everything about your body.”

Drake swallowed. The way he felt about his body varied from day to day. There was only one bit of it he loathed regardless—the brand of Apollo’s ownership. He’d been marked, like a product in a supermarket aisle, so buyers would know they owned quality merchandise. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I guess I don’t work like most people. I find it hard to open up.”

“It’s okay. I might be all bubbly, but you’ve known me long enough to know that there’s much more to me. Yeah, I like to laugh and make jokes and all that, but there’s bits of me I didn’t think I’d ever show anyone.” Clover started rocking against Drake’s hip, so unbearably available it would’ve been a sin not to squeeze his ass, so Drake moved his hand across the angular hip and cupped Clover’s buttock, which had filled up since they met. It was more packed with muscle now, just like the rest of that pale body Drake longed for every day.

“I know. You don’t mind that I’m… different. I think you get it,” Drake said, nuzzling Clover’s cheek as the light played with his bright hair.

Clover laughed and squeezed Drake’s crotch again, reminding Drake that the boy had been holding his hand there for a while. “You know me. I’m pretty err… open-minded. Also, you’re ridiculously hot and played hard to get for far too long.”

Drake’s lips pulsed with the need to kiss, and he wouldn’t deny himself, rolling on top of Clover slowly enough for the boy to keep his hand where it was. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d allowed someone to touch him so freely. Clover’s touch was so gentle, so thoughtful, that he found himself leaning into it and rocking his hips against his palm while their lips moved together in a lazy dance.

Clover slid his other hand into Drake’s hair, and closed his eyes, trusting and unafraid. He made the prettiest picture. Earlier that day, he’d shown that he could be alert, that he could fight, that he could kill, yet with Drake he was still the same horny little marshmallow who’d let his men manhandle him and asked for more.

Drake was still unsure, even though Clover’s gentleness already put Drake’s heart in that pale, beautiful hand. “Do you like this more than being tied up?”

Clover looked at Drake with eyes conveying so much affection. “I like a lot of things. I like variety. I love when you tie me up. It feels like I don’t have to worry about a thing. You take away all past and present, and let me be in the moment. You’re sexy when you’re in control. But I also like you this way and sometimes fantasize about you

fucking me just like this. Hard and fast, but with my hands on you, in your hair, against your skin.”

Drake swallowed, his gaze meeting Clover’s head-on despite invisible hands trying to pull him somewhere under the surface, where the glow of Clover’s adoration couldn’t keep him warm. “This… this is scary to me.”

“It’s okay. I like you whichever way. Even if you’re not in the mood, that’s okay too. But not gonna lie, I’m pretty horny for you right now.” Clover arched his hips under Drake, making his erection obvious.

Drake choked up, but he swallowed the discomfort and cupped Clover’s face, holding him still for a deep kiss that set off fireworks in his head. He wanted to fulfill Clover’s dreams, give him everything he deserved. “You know I’m always horny for you. I want to eat you whole.”

Clover parted his legs under Drake, allowing him to settle between. “I’m yours anytime.”

“Me too. I’m yours too, I mean,” Drake said, taking in the pristine image of Clover’s face surrounded by a halo of milky white hair. His skin was hot, yet needle-pricks of cold kept assaulting him in warning. His stomach felt tight, and so did his muscles, body prepared to run, but he also knew Clover would never hurt him. He could trust Clover.

“Oh, really? I can just come up to you, say I want dick and you’ll provide?” Clover winked at him and squeezed his thighs around Drake’s hips. The gesture brought their cocks together, and Drake moaned, clutching Clover’s hair.

“And this is my cue? You want it now?” he asked, rocking his hips in search of pleasure as his cock stiffened inside his jeans.

Clover bucked against him with a little moan. “I don’t want it. I need it.”

Drake needed this too. He needed to let Clover in. He’d been inside his shell of comfort for so long that he no longer even questioned its validity, but Clover was luring him out bit by bit. Pushed by the need to see more of Clover’s porcelain body, he hastily pushed up the T-shirt he wore for sleeping.