Page 37 of From Best To Bested

Roman remained quiet, not realizing he’d overstepped with such an innocuous question. He didn’t want to upset Ezra twice in one day.

“Remember, I’m always in charge.” Ezra stared down at him, a smile on his face and hate in his green eyes.

Roman never could understand how Ezra seemed so happy and disgusted all at once. It was a look only Roman ever brought out of Ezra. No matter who he talked with or argued with or fought against, Ezra always seemed content, calm, and collected. There was this calculated strategy to how he carried himself with every single person, from the inmates to the staff. His eyes never held the same menace they did when locked onto Roman.

“Sorry.” Roman braced as Ezra moved further up.

“Don’t be sorry. Be a friend and eat my ass.” Ezra planted his ass on Roman’s mouth, muffling his face with his taint and balls.

Roman went to work, lapping at Ezra’s warm hole. He’d only experimented with eating ass twice in his life. Ezra’s butt was not like Stacy Anderson’s; however, it wasn’t much different, mechanically speaking. Ezra’s hole was hairy, unlike Stacy’s. He shouldn’t be thinking about Stacy right now, especially while lathering a man’s hole with his tongue. The disrespect for her memory was almost as awkward as his current angle. All the same, he thought about Stacy’s many curiosities and how she’d convinced him to try most of his sexually adventurous desires. She was actually the person who introduced Roman to anal, being a fan of the sensation herself and quite demanding that he learn how to use his dick in all the right ways. Roman enjoyed the experience, albeit finding it a bit bizarre the first few times.

She’d tried convincing Roman to let her use her fingers during oral, something Roman promptly rejected. It would’ve taken away from his masculinity, or so he believed at the time. As he lapped Ezra’s hole, poked gently with his tongue, and licked at the ring of his ass, he realized Ezra had no problemsurrendering a bit of his masculinity for the sake of pleasure, especially pleasure where he still remained in control.

Roman wondered how things would’ve been different if he’d let Stacy experiment all her fancies with him. She’d had a lot of toys and always wanted to experiment with butt stuff. Maybe the first few dozen times with Ezra would’ve been easier on Roman if he’d agreed to Stacy’s curiosities. Maybe if he spent more time exploring kinks with Stacy, the pair would’ve been too busy to go out drinking. Maybe he would’ve never gotten in that fight. Maybe he would’ve never shoved her in a fit of fury. Maybe he would’ve never killed Stacy.

Her bloody, smashed body replayed in his thoughts a million times like it had far too many times over the years, and regret of his actions threatened to pull him from his current job.

Ezra thrust on top of Roman’s face, moaning with pleasure the more Roman worked over Ezra’s hole. Roman focused wholeheartedly on pleasing Ezra. All the wondering didn’t help Roman and stole from this intimacy that he needed to prioritize. Following the curious wonders was pointless and led down several what-ifs that would never come to be. What if he hadn’t drunk so much his second year of college. What if he hadn’t gone out celebrating after finals. What if he hadn’t gotten into a bar fight. What if…what if…what if…

When Ezra shuddered, arms stretched to grip the underside of the top bunk, Roman could feel the man ready to buckle. He worked his tongue more, licking and lapping and gently poking until Ezra was chasing Roman’s mouth with desire. Even though Ezra preferred to be in charge, Roman found himself controlling the flow of their entanglements more and more.

The more Ezra trusted him, the more Ezra craved him, the more he would surrender dominance. Roman would still suck and bottom, but like now, when he worked over Ezra’s ass with his mouth, Roman would dictate the pace, control the release,determine where things went next. Grabbing ahold of Ezra’s hips, Roman continued rimming the man while sliding a hand around Ezra’s erect cock, and stroking him.

Roman’s own dick throbbed. He wanted to stroke it, too. No, to hammer it away inside a tight hole. Ezra’s hole. It was moments like this where Roman’s dick twitched with excitement, and every fiber of his being wanted to fuck Ezra, to ram his cock into the man, and turn this sordid arrangement into something real. Roman didn’t know what to make of that, so he continued stroking Ezra, continued serving the man.

Eventually, Ezra moved off Roman, slapping his dick against Roman’s face, a look of rage and delight after having his ass eaten. He didn’t ask, didn’t give Roman a warning; he just shoved his dick into Roman’s mouth, groaning with excitement when Roman choked and gagged at the sudden shock of taking Ezra into his mouth.

After a few minutes of erratically face fucking Roman, he slid off and snapped his fingers with a wave of his hand. Roman recognized the gesture and obediently rolled onto his stomach, arching his back and aligning his knees for Ezra’s convenience. Ezra pounded Roman, and Roman did his best to hold his head up while he grunted at the swift thrusts. The pillow called to Roman after such a long and exhausting day, but he could rest after Ezra climaxed.

Chapter Twelve

Roman sat next to Ezra, who’d taken to attending the arena bouts in their entirety. Roman never wasted his time watching the preliminary shows, the casual competitions, the filler entertainment. He used that time to rest and relax, but Ezra used that time to parade his authority. Ezra never portrayed himself with an air of arrogance or authority, always relying on subtly and sly suggestions to get what he wanted as champion, something Roman still didn’t fully grasp. But one thing Ezra did weigh heavily on was the claim to his throne.

It was large and made of stone, like something out of a fantasy world. There were animal skulls adorned along the top of the chair going all the way down to the butt of the seat, which would make sitting back uncomfortable. Not that Ezra did. He leaned forward for the matches, hands on his knees and legs spread wide. The armrests went unused, which again benefited Ezra since they were covered in spiked bones to add to the mystique of the throne.

Roman would’ve found it silly if he weren’t already so conditioned to love all of Ezra’s whims. Life was just easier when he learned to laugh, learned to accept the whispers and finger pointing. Especially since a few in the audience snickered at Roman, who sat on the floor beside Ezra’s chair. He had a plush pillow to rest on so his knees didn’t hurt in this positionfor so long and a clear view of the competition, but Roman realized almost immediately how unequal he and Ezra appeared. His stomach twisted in knots at the idea of how he looked like nothing more than a pet. But when Ezra played with his hair and made conversation in between rounds, Roman smiled and did his best to be grateful.

“We’ve got quite a lineup before the champion’s chance begins,” Warden Sadler announced. “Levi Pierce versus Landon Montgomery.”

Roman’s heart jumped a beat. What the fuck was happening? He turned to Ezra, whose expression had barely shifted. He was seemingly aware of this match, which made no sense to Roman. Levi was soft and sweet and too sensitive for the arena. Everything Roman did after escaping The Pit was to ensure Levi’s safety. Yes, his own well-being mattered, but he’d long since accepted his fate. He sat up, searching the crowd of inmates in attendance, even the authority of spectators above, but didn’t see his friend anywhere.

“What’s happening?” Roman frantically turned to Ezra, poorly hiding his concern. “I thought you had Levi under your protection.”

Ezra smiled at Roman. “I do.”

“Then why’s he being dragged into the arena?” Roman’s heart surged.

“What people choose to do on their own time is up to them,” Ezra said dismissively. “I can only do so much, Princess. I have to allow folks to make their own choices.”

No one came down here by choice unless they relished the violence. Only desperate fools willing to accept a beating for a chance at some extra cash ventured down here. Had Levi become one of the fodder inmates? Someone chosen purely for an easy beatdown so the audience could have a laugh with their blood sport? Usually, only the junkies did that. They were oftenthe only ones desperate enough to fight actual fighters with zero experience.

When Levi finally revealed himself, he seemed so much bigger than the last time Roman had seen him. He’d also shaved his chestnut brown hair short, barely longer than a buzzcut, which would make grabbing all the more difficult. Their paths didn’t cross much, with so much of Roman’s time spent at Ezra’s side. Levi had always been big, but Roman learned early on that Levi was only muscle pretty, not muscle strong. The fitness training at the gym was for his aesthetic, not for combat. He’d removed his glasses, which was good since Landon was probably about to break poor Levi’s face. Still, there was something hard in Levi’s eyes as he squared up across from Landon.

Roman watched the fight unfold and immediately recoiled when Landon leaned in for a quick jab. To his surprise, Levi evaded the strike, pivoted around, and clocked Landon in the jaw. Roman’s head tilted in curiosity and surprise at Levi’s move sets. These were things Roman had attempted and failed to teach Levi countless times over the years. There were other techniques Roman was familiar with but didn’t apply to his own style. It was almost as if Levi had pulled and adapted to other fighter styles from all his observations on the sidelines. Unfortunately, making himself a Jack of all Trades only went so far, and Roman noted how sloppy Levi’s overall form was. His stamina still outlasted Landon, and eventually, Levi cleared the round with a victory.

The warden announced the win and showed a tally of Levi’s current stats. He’d won seven rounds and only lost four.

Roman didn’t know what to say, what to think, how to feel. He was so damn proud and perplexed. Mostly, he was worried. If Levi chose this life, Roman was happy he’d finally found himself growing out from under Roman’s shadow, but if he was somehow forced into this because Ezra’s protection wasn’tenough, then Roman feared the lengths he’d have to go to ensure Levi’s safety.

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