Their Bounty (Four Mercenaries 1)

“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.