Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“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.”