Page 18 of From Best To Bested

“You do.”

“This or back in a hole to die.” Roman glared. “Not much of a choice.”

“You won’t go back there,” Ezra said. “Not ever.”

“What?”

“Even if you refuse me here and now for a second time, you will not be returned to The Pit.”

“You’re lying,” Roman snapped.

“I’m not,” Ezra said with a definitive shrug. “Even if you change your mind midway through or wake up tomorrow sore and regretting your decision. Walk away whenever it suits you, and I promise you’ll be sent back to regular gen pop. Might be my wing, might be another cellblock. No sway there, but it won’t be solitary, and it won’t be that awful Pit. I’m not vindictive, Roman.”

“You’re fucking lying.”

“That was the warden’s game,” Ezra admitted. “I didn’t like that game, and I felt sick letting him play it. But I didn’t have the clout to argue. Three months of continuous wins, coupled with a bit of flirting with the higher priority clientele—let’s just say those Lawless Authority folks really do like getting their way, so it’s wise to convince them my way is the path they wanna pursue—and now I have enough say to keep you off the warden’s immediate hitlist.”

Roman frowned. He’d never made an effort with authority who watched from the balcony. They were perverse in more ways than one, and standing in the same room with elite clientele made Roman’s skin crawl. He wondered if he had offered a few more niceties their way if they would’ve opposed the warden making Roman disappear after his losses. If they would’ve helped rebuild Roman after he fell from the title of champion. He also wondered how much of his soul he would’ve lost having a single conversation with those vipers who thrived on pain and anguish and betting on the lives of people like fucking cattle.

“So, I can’t guarantee you won’t end up back on the warden’s shitlist, and I can’t offer you protection from anyone you’ve pissed off, but I can promise you will never return to that dank place.”

Roman let those words sink in, and he considered. If he weren’t so exhausted from months of isolation, if he weren’t so sleep deprived, so hungry, so bruised and beaten from countless treks to and from The Pit arena, he might’ve walked right out of the champion’s suite and taken his chances against anyone bold enough to cross him.

But Roman didn’t believe he’d survive long on his own, not after everything, and if this was what Ezra could offer without friendship, then maybe he really could keep him safe if he willed himself to accept the deal.

“I’ll be your friend, whatever.” Roman shrugged like he wanted to knock the words away from himself. “Just don’t expect anything from me.”

“Except you,” Ezra corrected. “I get you in every way I want.”

“Yeah, you get to fuck me,” Roman answered. “Let’s just go then.”

“It’s more than that.” Ezra stepped close, cupping his hands around Roman’s face with a gentle but guiding touch. “Everything you do will be at my discretion, meant to meet my needs, my happiness. If you’re absolutely certain you can accept this, will yourself to be the hole I need for pleasure, the friend I crave for conversation, and follow my lead in all things moving forward, then we can begin.”

“Let’s get started.”

“Get undressed,” Ezra said with a commanding growl.

Roman did as instructed, more annoyed than self-conscious, and watched Ezra take off his clothes, too. He’d seen him shirtless in the arena already, the lean muscles and scattered tattoos over Ezra’s deep bronze skin, but he hadn’t seen the man from the waist down yet.

When Ezra revealed his dick, Roman’s jaw nearly dropped. Not that he thought his wide mouth could hold such a thing. He couldn’t believe Ezra was already fully hard, and he definitely couldn’t believe how hung the man was.

“Ten inches, and no, that’s not a liberal measurement on my end,” Ezra said with a smirk. “There’s confident, and then there’s assuredly confident.”

Roman didn’t often feel inadequate. He knew at seven inches, add a half if he was feeling braggy, he wasn’t the biggest cock on the block, but he also knew he didn’t need to be. Size wasn’t everything, and his seven got done what Ezra’s ten could do. Or so he assumed. He also assumed Ezra’s ten inches took a lot more effort, and while he assured himself he could handleany physical pain or sensation about to hit him, doubt crept into his mind.

“I don’t want you stroking yourself during our time together,” Ezra explained. “Your focus needs to be on my needs only. My pleasure will become your pleasure. You will learn this and learn to love this.”

Roman swallowed hard at that.

“But don’t worry.” Ezra held his hands at the sides of his dick, gesturing and bucking forward to wave his fully erect cock. “You’ll cum for sure. I’ve never had a complaint.”

“I’m not gay,” Roman said. “Not bi, not curious.”

Somehow, reiterating those words made this the tiniest bit more bearable, like he could hold a mirror up to Ezra and show him the so-called choices Roman made. He didn’t know how much he believed in the words, but when it came to Ezra, they were entirely true. There was no curiosity creeping over Roman’s skin, only anxiety.

“Like you do you,” Roman continued, brave face and tense muscles. “But I’m not getting anything out of this.”

“It’s anatomy, bud,” Ezra said with a hard thrust at the air. “When I’m pumping your ass, you’ll be rock hard and begging for my dick even deeper in your hole.”

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