Their Bounty (Four Mercenaries 1)

“No. That’s not right,” he huffed in the end, sliding back inside and unlocking Clover’s ankles from his wrists.

Clover released a deep sigh of relief through his nose, unable to mutter a thank you. He looked up at Drake and extended his wrists in a silent plea, a deja vu of his meeting with Tank. But instead of uncuffing him, Drake pulled his hands up. Clover’s eyes went wide when he spotted a hook in the ceiling.

What.

The.

Fuck.

He writhed and moaned in protest, but it was no use, Drake attached Clover’s cuffs to a short chain that forced him to sit up straight with his arms up. Clover rattled the chain helplessly, glaring at Drake, who smiled with relief.

“Yes. Much better.”

But instead of leaving Clover as he was, Drake pulled on his bound legs and hooked them to a fabric strap on the other wall before shortening the belt so it pulled on Clover’s ankles, leaving him leaning forward with the edge of the seat digging into the flesh under his butt.

Drake stepped back, and his shoulders relaxed at last. “Yes. That works,” he told himself before pulling on a strand of Clover’s hair and moving it behind his ear.

Clover whined, but when he tried to rattle and pull on the chain above him, the motion forced his legs closer to the wall across from him. Trapped in this contorted position, he changed his tune and looked at Drake with puppy eyes.

Hadn’t Tank mentioned something about bondage before? Was Drake getting off on this?

“You won’t be going anywhere for a while, but try as much as you want.” Drake said with a raspy undertone to his voice.

He was still for a moment but then scooted down and looked straight at Clover, his gaze moving over his body, as if he wanted to see whether his actions have made Clover’s limbs tremble yet. “That’s right. You’ll learn discipline,” he said and reached to Clover’s face. But while Clover expected a painful tug on his mane, Drake removed his glasses, leaving him helpless, as even the van became a blur.

Clover stared into the hazy oval of Drake’s face when it finally hit him what position he was in. A part of him knew that Drake wouldn’t hurt him, and all discomfort would be over once they joined Tank and the others, but for now he was at Drake’s mercy, and the man was set on tormenting him.

The worst of it all was that Drake’s mean attitude was kinda hot. Clover would gladly have sex with him and get the sexual tension over with. But he couldn’t make a move, so he just shifted in the seat time and time again as Drake stayed silent, watching from above as if witnessing Clover’s discomfort brought him pleasure.

He closed the van without a word, which left Clover in the shadows, where no one could see him in this humiliating position.

His back and muscles were feeling the strain of it the moment Drake started the engine again. The pull of the moving vehicle put pressure on all the places where Clover was bound, and he let out a long sound of protest, meeting Drake’s gaze in the rear-view mirror—or so he thought, because he couldn’t be certain without his glasses on.

“Think about your actions.”

Drake could pretend this was about anything other than his own selfish pleasure all he wanted. It wasn’t as if Clover could express his opinion or mock him for it. And what he thought was that he could be up for experimentation. It had been very hot when Tank had fucked him in cuffs, but that had been honest, at least. Tank wanted it, so he did it.

Clover bet Drake was driving with a sneaky hard-on.

If only Clover wasn’t gagged, he’d tell Drake where to stick it.

Without Clover talking, the van became so silent it was bordering on weird. Didn’t this guy listen to the radio or audiobooks like any normal person? Time stretched, filled with the struggle of Clover constantly shifting his weight to relieve the pressure on his joints, because achieving a comfortable position was impossible in this setup. And something told him that was why Drake made him sit in such a convoluted way.

And what for? He could have just asked nicely.

A hiss escaped Drake’s lips a split second before the van came to an abrupt stop, propelling Clover up with the force of its speed. The cuffs and belt yanked at him hard and sent him back to the chair, frantic and breathing fast through his nose.

He moaned ‘What’s going on?’ into the gag, even though his sounds were unintelligible.

“Fuck. Stay put,” Drake barked at him as if Clover could go anywhere without Drake’s help.

His heart sped up when a gun clicked somewhere in the front seat, but he wasn’t sure if the shouting outside wasn’t even worse. Clover strained his eyes to look through the windshield and went still at the sight of two black vehicles blocking the road.