Ezra sat at the edge of his bed, staring at his phone screen. The words on the screen burned into his mind, but the pair wasn't new. Jace had cheated before. Ezra had ignored it before. But this time, the betraval cut deeper.
A photo. A stranger, in Jace's bed. Shirtless. The same body Ezra had memorized. Ezra was done. At least, that's what he told himself.
He couldn't sit still. He needed to get out. So, without a second thought, Ezra grabbed his jacket, slammed the door behind him, and left for the one place that could give him some distraction- the club.
The neon lights blurred as Ezra walked in, the bass of the music thumping through his chest. His breath slowed, the night air still fresh on his skin. as he melted into the crowd.
He wasn't there to find someone. But maybe he was.
Ezra pushed through the throngs of people, the press of bodies pulling him into a rhythm he couldn't escape. He swirled around the bar, grabbing a whiskey before it even touched the counter. He downed it quickly, not caring that it burned his throat.
And then he saw him.
Lorenzo King.
Ezra froze.
Lorenzo wasn't someone you simply saw at a club. He was the don- the mafia don who had more power in his pinky than most people could dream of. And Jace's uncle.
Ezra felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Lorenzo's eyes met his. The intensity of the gaze was undeniable- dark, calculating. But there was something else there too: hunger.
Lorenzo didn't speak at first. He didn't need to. His presence alone filled the space between them, pulling Ezra closer.
As he walked toward the VIP section, Ezra followed, not bothering to ask for permission. The bouncer didn't stop him- there was no need. Ezra was already caught in the snare.
"You look... different tonight," Lorenzo said as Ezra stepped into his space.
"Do I?" Ezra replied, his voice a little too sharp, but he couldn't stop himself. The tension was thick, and Lorenzo's gaze made him feel like he was naked, exposed.
Lorenzo leaned forward, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You've been a good boy for Jace. But I don't think you're his anymore."
Ezra swallowed hard. It wasn't a question- it was a statement. And it made something inside him stir. Maybe it was anger. Or maybe it was just... need.
"Not anymore," Ezra muttered.
Lorenzo's lips quirked. "No? Well then what are you doing here?"
Ezra tilted his head, feeling a rush of heat flood his chest. "I guess I'm just here to cool off."
Lorenzo's gaze flickered over him once again, this time slower, more deliberate. "I can offer that." He said, voice low and smooth. "But cooling off.. can sometimes burn."
Ezra's breath hitched. The moment was inevitable. The look between them lingered just long enough to make the heat unbearable.
Before Ezra could respond, Lorenzo reached out, his fingers brushing against Ezra's jawline. It wasn't a touch- it was a command. And Ezra followed it, like he had no choice.
"I've been waiting for this," Lorenzo muttered, voice rough with intent.
Ezra's heart raced as he leaned into the touch, his mind clouded with something that was equal parts fear and desire. "What do you want from me?"
"I don't need you to ask that question." Lorenzo's lips brushed Ezra's ear as his fingers slid lower, pulling at the hem of Ezra's shirt. "What I want... is to show you how much you've been missing.
The words ignited something darker inside Ezra. Something he didn't want to acknowledge.
In a blur of motion, they were at the penthouse suite. The door slammed shut behind them, and Ezra was pushed against it, breathless. His heart raced in anticipation. He wasn't afraid- at least not in the way he thought he would be. No, it was something more primal, something that made his skin burn.
Lorenzo's hands were everywhere gripping his shoulders, pulling him closer lips hot on his neck. Ezra moaned, his body responding before his mind could catch up.
"Tell me, Ezra," Lorenzo growled, "Do you like this? Do you want me to make you forget about Jace?"
"I don't care about Jace anymore," Ezra whispered, his body already betraying him wanting more.
Lorenzo smirked, dark eyes never leaving Ezra's as he slowly kissed down Ezra's chest. He bit and licked, leaving marks that would never fade. Ezra's breath quickened.
"Then why are you still here, hmm?"
"I'm here because you're different," Ezra admitted, almost a whisper, his voice thick with need. "You're nothing like him."
Lorenzo's hands moved lower, undoing the buttons of Ezra's pants with practiced ease. He didn't need to ask for permission.
This wasn't about consent anymore. It was about something else. Something more dangerous.
"I'm not trying to be him," Lorenzo murmured, lips brushing against Ezra's stomach. "I'm not trying to be anything. But will show you what it feels like to be wanted by someone who knows how to own you."
Ezra's breath hitched. He couldn't think. He didn't want to think.
Ezra couldn't remember when the air had gotten so thick.
He was on his back now, stripped down to nothing, his skin flushed and warm, his breath ragged. Lorenzo stood at the foot of the bed, fully clothed, slowly unbuttoning his dress shirt- watching Ezra like he was prey laid out for a feast.
"I want you to look at me," Lorenzo said low and firm.
Ezra lifted his eyes, locking onto that dark gaze that made his insides twist. "I am."
Lorenzo's shirt slid from his shoulders revealing the kind of body that didn't belong to a man his age. Muscular. Scarred. Every mark a story. Every inch dripping with dominance.
"Do you know what it means to lie with a don, Ezra?" he murmured as he crawled onto the bed like a predator, slow and deliberate. "It's not just a fuck. It's a promise."
Ezra's lips parted, heartbeat thundering in his ears. "A promise of what?"
"That you'll never want anything less than this again."
Then he was on him- hands pinning Ezra's wrists above his head, mouth crashing down over Ezra's neck. The kiss wasn't sweet. It was claiming. Tongue and teeth, dragging moans from Ezra's lips that got louder with every pass.
"Mmm-ahh~ Lorenzo-!" Ezra writhed under him, thighs parting instinctively "Please-"
"Shh." Lorenzo pressed two fingers to Ezra's lips. "Don't beg yet. I want to ruin you first."
His mouth moved lower. down Ezra's collarbone, chest, teasing around his nipples until Ezra gasped and arched beneath him. He sucked one slowly into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as Ezra bucked. A hand slid between Ezra's thighs, trailing over sensitive skin, not touching where he needed it- not yet.
"Do you know how long I've wanted this?" Lorenzo whispered against Ezra's skin. "Watching you play the obedient little boyfriend at dinner, sitting next to Jace pretending like you didn't notice the way stared."
Ezra bit his lip, hard. "You were watching me?"
"I wanted to bend you over that table and make you scream my name while he watched."
Ezra's breath caught. He shouldn't like that. He shouldn't like any of this. But gods, he was soaked in it.
Lorenzo finally slid his hand between Ezra's legs, fingers curling and pressing just right, and Ezra cried out- hips rising off the bed, legs shaking.
"Aghh- f- fuck- ! Yes- yes right there-!"
"Sensitive, aren't you?" Lorenzo chuckled darkly. "No wonder Jace didn't know what to do with you."
Ezra groaned, teeth clenched, heat pooling lower. "You're such a bastard-"
"And yet you're still under me, begging for more." Lorenzo grabbed Ezra's hips flipped him over in one swift motion, and pulled him up onto his knees.
Ezra gasped, gripping the pillows, skin flushed from the force of the movement. He looked back over his shoulder, panting eyes wide.
Lorenzo leaned in, lips brushing Ezra's ear "Are you going to tell me to stop?"
Ezra swallowed trembling, "Don't you fucking dare."
And that was all Lorenzo needed.
He entered Ezra slowly, inch by inch, hand gripping Ezra's hip tight enough to bruise.
Ezra whimpered, biting into the sheets.
"Ahhh- nghh- so deep-!"
"That's it," Lorenzo growled, thrusting in deeper. "Take it. Take all of it."
Ezra's body jolted with every thrust, each one rougher than the last, sharp and punishing but so good. The pleasure came in waves, painful and sweet, turning his thouqhts to static. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the room, along with Ezra's moans and Lorenzo's low possessive groans.
"You like being used like this, don't you?" Lorenzo grunted. "Like a toy- mine to play with."
"Y- yes! F- fuck, I do-!" Ezra sobbed, body trembling, overwhelmed by the brutal rhythm. "I'm yours tonight- yours- ahh~"
Lorenzo grinned wickedly, sweat dripping down his jaw. "Say it again."
"I'm yours- ahh- Lorenzo- please, harder."
"Good boy."
He reached around and wrapped a hand around Ezra, stroking him in time with the thrusts. Ezra let out a choked moan, nearly collapsing. Every nerve ending screamed with overstimulation.
And then it hit- his orgasm crashing over him in a violent rush, white-hot and shuddering, his cry echoing off the walls.
Lorenzo didn't stop.
Even as Ezra's legs gave out and he collapsed onto the bed, Lorenzo grabbed his hips and kept going, chasing his own climax, using Ezra's pliant body until he came with a deep, guttural groan, spilling into him and collapsing beside him, chest heaving.
Eventually, it was quiet. Ezra lay sprawled across the silk sheets, trying to catch his breath. His body felt sore but... alive.
Lorenzo stood by the window, looking out over the city with that same cold commanding air. He didn't look at Ezra. But then, after a long moment, he spoke.
"You could've walked away," Lorenzo said softly. "But you didn't. You stayed. So tell me, Ezra... do you want this to be the last time?"
Ezra turned to look at him, chest rising and falling. His thoughts were cloudy, but one thing was clear.
"No," Ezra whispered. "I don't think so."
The silence that followed was warm. Breathless. Raw.
Ezra blinked up at the ceiling, fingers curled in the sheets, skin still tingling. "That was...."
Lorenzo turned his head lazily toward him, "Worse than Jace?"
Ezra laughed breathlessly, curling into his side. "So much worse."
Lorenzo smirked and pulled him close. "Good."
Ezra didn't ask what this meant. Not yet. Not tonight.
Tonight, he wasn't the ex. He wasn't the victim.
He was something else.
And Lorenzo? He wasn't just a mistake.
He was a beginning.