Their Property (Four Mercenaries 3)

Clover was his to protect, to nourish. To love.

His fingers swept over the hole again, and the way the delicate wrinkled flesh reacted to touch, all supple and inviting, had him shivering even before he took hold of his dick and rocked it between the buttocks, sparking heat they both could barely stand.

“Is this what you want, boy? My big cock in your fuckhole?”

Clover moaned, his ass moving in that gloriously impatient way. “Yes, please,” but it was almost inaudible, so Tank teased Clover by pressing on the hole with his cockhead.

“Didn’t catch that,” he said and bit Clover’s ear.

“Yes, please, Daddy. I want you fucking my hole. All yours.” Clover’s shoulder blades arched. He was such a lovely sight when excited.

“You’re not begging hard enough,” Tank said, even though sweat rolled down his back from the effort of stopping himself from claiming the snug opening already.

Clover whined and pressed his face into the blanket while reaching back. It took only one glance between their bodies to realize Clover had pulled on his buttocks and spread them for Tank. “Please, please, please. Don’t let your boy wait for your cock, Daddy. I want it so much.”

Tank had to take a second to look over Clover’s head and into Drake’s eyes, satisfied to find the hungry expression in the dilated pupils. He bit back a grin, and kept up the eye contact as he spoke again. “Say it again, boy. Where do you want my cock?”

Clover was panting under him, such a beautiful mess with those pale limbs and bright hair. He rocked his ass against Tank’s cock, holding his hole open. “I want it fucking me, Daddy. I want to milk your dick with my hole and have you come inside, please.”

Tank shivered and made the push, burying himself in the pliant body under his. Clover gave a choked gasp and arched his back as his heels dug into the sides of Tank’s thighs. “Oh God... Daddy, you feel so good inside me,” he whined, swiping his hair over Tank’s face as he shook his head erratically.

Above Clover, Tank could still see Drake, who’d put a pillow on his crotch, as if he were embarrassed of the erection he sported while his wide-eyed gaze wandered from Clover to Tank and back.

Tank grinned at him, and then bit into Clover’s nape, making him squirm. “That’s my boy. Loves to get his ass pounded.” He would show Drake just how much Clover needed to be treated like his old self, not some porcelain prince who couldn’t be touched. “Go on, milk my dick with that boyhole.”

Clover’s breathing became erratic, and he gasped for air time and time again, his slender body trapped under Tank’s. He pulled his hands away from his buttocks, and Tank instantly trapped the slim fingers in his, pinning them to the blanket by Clover’s head. Knowing he was giving Clover what the boy wanted was an intoxicating mix of power and pleasure.

“Is this… good, Daddy?” Clover asked, riding Tank’s cock like the perfect slutty submissive.

“Your little hole’s perfect. It’s made to take my dick. And any other dick I want to see inside it,” Tank whispered, lowering himself over Clover until the boy was lying flat, squashed under Tank’s weight, with only their hips working faster with every passing second.

Clover gave a low moan, then cried out, and once his hole spasmed on Tank’s cock, he understood the boy was climaxing under him. Tank pulled on Clover’s hair to witness his face in all its lip-biting glory.

“Oh yeah? You came just from riding my dick, slutty boy?” Tank was so hot he didn’t need the damn blanket anymore. He sawed into Clover’s ass with new intensity, slapping against the lovely buttocks each time he went all the way in, but his thoughts dispersed with the urgent need to come. He wanted to fill Clover with cum and make the boy remember his Daddy for days.

He looked up at Drake. “See how much he likes it? Our boy’s so dick-hungry he barely needs to eat.”

Drake’s chest hollowed, and he bit his lip, as if he wanted to stop himself from speaking.

Tank winked at him and tightened his arms around Clover, thrusting even faster now, when his own orgasm was just around the corner. Their sweaty bodies stuck together, keeping them both warm, and he shut his eyes, completely focused on how Clover felt in his arms and around him. He knew the boy was capable, but right now, trembling with his orgasm, he seemed so fragile Tank wished to bury him in cotton candy for protection.

Pleasure crashed into Tank like a wall, and he held on even more tightly, breathing in the fresh scent of his beloved boy. “You feel so good.”

Clover whimpered, the sweetest little after-orgasm sound when he didn’t have the energy to speak anymore, yet still wanted to acknowledge Tank. Their fingers were still entwined. Soon enough, they’d need to untangle themselves from each other, but not yet.