#dark!ezra

There were countless urban legends of doped up partiers getting lost, only to be found years later. One was discovered in a remote ossuary curled up with a faded can of New Coke. A picture had circulated – The poor soul’s shrunken legs were bent, knees drawn to their chest, yellow leggings stiffened and soiled under a pink leotard which by then fit like a paper bag.

—

When your friend said that’s where you were headed one night, you tried to convince her into going anywhere else. The problem was, she was obsessed with a DJ at the Green.

“I don’t get it,” she protested. “I know it’s not because you’re scared.”

“I just can't,” you pleaded futilely, and then she caught on when you wouldn’t meet her eyes.

Her jaw clenched, and her nostrils flared. “Let me guess,” she spat. “Because you’re letting a married man control your life.”

“Come on,” you pleaded.

“Billy may be a slut, but he's not married,” she bragged of the DJ.

. . .

An hour later, you and your friend were both high, dancing near the front of the crowd. In the humidity, you took off your bra, leaving a snug, mesh crop top and leather miniskirt. By then about 10% of the crowd was nude or close to it.

A song faded out, and a dense fog began to billow into the crowd. The fog smelled thickly of vegetation and masked some of the body odor you had been inhaling all night. The crowd quietly murmured, and with a few scattered whistles of enthusiasm.

As the fog settled, Billy the DJ put on a soothing binaural beat and introduced his mate, Ezra. As the crowd whistles and cheered, Billy hopped down from the booth and made a bee-line for your friend.

“There she is,” he murmured into her neck and wrapped his arms around her. “Is your friend joining us?”

“No,” she answered without looking at you. “Her daddy wouldn't like that.”

“Oh,” Billy looked you up and down, impressed. “Tell me ‘bout that later, love?” Billy winked at you as she dragged him away, leaving you alone.

–

Ezra stepped onto the stage and commenced with. . . spoken word poetry.

You didn't have the presence of mind for it, but the crowd was captivated. They knew him. As he droned on, some of them dropped to their knees, including a tattooed young man next to you in nothing but a sweatband. On the floor, he bent forward in child’s pose, arms stretched toward Ezra as though in worship. Through the remaining fog, the man’s glow-in-the-dark butt plug caught your eye.

Ezra had a mesmerizing voice. “Yes,” he echoed over the beat, and you found yourself tuning in. “Yes, feel my tongue penetrate you. Feel my words inside you!” You felt him opening something in your chest.

You scanned the crowd. The effect he had on these people was — The back of your neck prickled, and your exposed nipples hardened.

And then, you felt eyes on you. Not just anyone's. Your breath hitched. In the corner of your eye, Ezra was looking right at you. His voice became more tranquil: “I am already inside you.” A zing of pleasure shot through your chest, and a tingling heat spread through your loins. “Be not afraid,” he cooed. “Look at me while I penetrate you.” Your knees felt weak with need. You slowly looked up at him. He was sweating profusely through a worn, gray T-shirt and tactical pants. He dabbed his forehead with his wrist and ran his fingers through a shock of white hair. “yes,” he nodded, not taking his eyes off you. “Let me in deeper, little bird.”

“Let him in,” a few people murmured.

Ezra nodded, and his eyes sparkled as they briefly surveyed the crowd before coming back to you. He allowed a moment of silence, and over the beat, you could hear scattered moans. In your peripheral vision, the guy with the glow-in-the-dark butt plug was sucking cock while jerking himself off.

“Eyes on your god,” Ezra sharply demanded, and your face heated up as your gaze snapped back to him. Your eyes connected and locked together. It felt like you knew him. Like he knew you. You knew each other. You had to.

Ezra wet his lips, and everyone watched as he began to rub himself through his pants, looking right at you. Your eyelashes fluttered at the sight. His presence seized your whole body. Your breaths were shallow. The low beat thumped and hummed, with you in the tightening grip of his gaze.

From behind, you felt the wind of a stranger’s breath on your ear. “it’s okay,” she reassured you. “I’m gonna hold you for him,” the stranger slotted her hands under your arms.

“All over you,” Ezra continued, “the hands of my words, sliding over your skin.” He breathed heavily over the beat. You felt him. Pressure swelled in your depths, and you could hardly keep your eyes open. “Your god’s tongue, tasting the salt of your neck.” You really felt him. Your lips parted, and your clit twitched. “Yes,” Ezra nodded as he slowly rubbed himself, and the thick outline in his pants made you squeeze your thighs. Your body went nearly limp for Ezra's voice, and the stranger held you with your back against her chest. You could feel her nipples through the mesh of your top.

Ezra continued, “Your god’s cock, in the cunt of your soul.” And oh, you felt it deep. He unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, and the crowd cheered and pleaded, “yes, Ezra,” “please, God.” He held his cock in his hand, shapely and majestic.

Desire flooded your body, buzzing and throbbing with the beat of his obscenity. Your mind was full of him and so was your body, it felt. You had room for nothing else. Someone stepped toward the stage, and Ezra let them spit on his dick.

The stranger holding you pushed you forward, bringing you closer to Ezra. Ezra pointed at you with his free hand. As you arrived at the stage, a familiar darkness fell over his eyes, and your heart skipped a beat at the weight of recognition.

You snapped out of the spell. There was something off about this, something wrong about him.

He had someone else's face.

Someone you loved.

Your stomach turned as you stood there beneath Ezra, and he pumped his cock, with the crowd cheering him on. His eyes froze you in place. You willed yourself to move, as though stuck in a nightmare. It was just a bad trip, you told yourself. This wasn't real. It was the drugs.

“It's okay,” the stranger reassured you, and somehow, it helped you breathe easier.

Ezra breathed heavier, and his hungry eyes settled on your chest, making your nipples harden nearly to the point of pain. Goosebumps erupted from your chest and spread over your body.

“The seed of your god,” he panted, chest heaving.

“The seed of our god,” a few voices echoed.

Ezra bit his bottom lip and stroked himself faster.

“Especially for you,” Ezra spoke the words right into your soul, and your body throbbed out of control.

If it was a nightmare, if it was the drugs, you had nothing to lose by surrendering yourself to pleasure.

“Open your mouth,” the stranger urged you. And you did. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes. Ezra's sounds of pleasure became more pronounced. You couldn't be sure how long you stood there with your mouth open. The sound of Ezra growing ever closer to climax had you drawing in a deep breath through your nose and shuddering.

Soon, you smelled his musk and felt the humidity of his loins near your face. He groaned, and a thick rope hit the back of your throat. The warmth and tang of it was too much to bear. You squeezed your eyes tighter shut and saw stars. As your body spasmed, the stranger tried to hold you steady, but the cum that followed went all over your face and chest.

“Good,” Ezra praised when he finished emptying himself onto you. “Good,” he repeated.

The crowd cheered.

You opened your eyes and your body cooled with a wave of guilt. This is what Daddy wanted to protect you from. The spell of another man who bore a striking resemblance to him. You weren't yourself, it was the drugs, you repeated in your mind.

“You okay?” The stranger asked and you nodded.

“Now let them feast,” Ezra concluded and stepped down off the stage, his dick tucked away but his pants unbuttoned. People reached out to touch him as he came through the crowd but kept enough distance that he proceeded coolly, slowly toward the cave entrance.

Soon, you had hands all over you, too. Hands and tongues. People swiping at your skin, licking your face, desperate for a taste of him. You shut your eyes as they drew aftershocks of pleasure from your depths. After a minute, the stranger shooed them away. “Congratulations,” she said, and let you stand on your own.

Meanwhile, Billy and your friend had returned for him to resume his DJ duties. Your friend was dumbstruck by the scene. Billy looked more impressed. “Your first night? Alright, wow,” Billy marveled. “You must be special, love.”

It wasn't lost on you how this annoyed your friend. You pushed past both of them without a word and spotted Ezra's silhouette against the cave wall.

—

Ezra was uncharacteristically silent as you approached, simply taking in the vision of you, disheveled from the touch of strangers, unraveled from his words. He looked pleased with himself.

As you opened your mouth to speak, you hesitated, unsure you wanted to know the answer to your question, or how real this was. You asked him anyway, “What's your last name?” and your heart raced in anticipation.

“I don't have a last name,” he claimed.

“Bullshit. Is it York?”

Ezra drew in a deep breath through his nose and observed your face. “Mmm.” He glanced at the ceiling with a chuckle. “Well heavens, little bird.” His eyes turned regretful. “I surmise you belong to a particular agent of the federal variety.” He raised his eyebrows. “And if my calculation is correct, I sincerely–”

“--Apologize,” A handsome black man with short, greying hair interrupted. In an exaggerated motion, the man pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch. “A little late,” he stated with a glare, punctuated by a pout and raise of his eyebrows. Then, his hand engulfed Ezra’s neck with startling speed and precision. Ezra choked, and the man calmly held firm, beginning to explain, “In approximately 30 seconds, the blood flow to your–”

A different man snatched you by the arm from behind. The grip of his large hand was a familiar, painful comfort. You could feel the bruises forming on your bicep as he physically dragged you away.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. “I'm sorry, I–”

Mr. York didn't speak a word to you until he had you well into the catacombs, away from the club. You could only faintly hear the music start up again. He put you against a cold, rough wall, rolled up the sleeves of his powder blue button-down, and put his hands on his knees as he looked you in the face. His gaze was soft but ominous. It unsettled you.

“I'm sorry, daddy,” tears welled up in your eyes.

Still nothing from him.

His nostrils flared with a deep breath. You'd prefer if he yelled at you, smacked you around. As though reading your tears, he slapped you across the face. Your hand flew up to your cheek instinctively but he swatted it away and simply looked at you as the sting faded. He didn't have to ask the question: What the hell were you doing there?

“I didn't want to come,” you cried. “I didn't wanna–”

“You shouldn't be here,” he stated firmly, and you nodded.

“I know, you said not to come, didn't know it was cause, I didn't know about–”

“Who knows best?” He asked.

“Daddy,” you answered earnestly, “Daddy always does.”

He gave a short nod, then grabbed your jaw and studied each of your eyes. “High off your ass,” he grumbled. Then he sniffed the air. Still firmly holding your jaw, he brought his nose to your cheek, then dragged it down to your neck. There was nothing like your daddy’s touch, even when he was mad. Sometimes especially if he was mad.

He growled and stood upright, bringing his other hand to your neck so he had one hand on your jaw and the other firmly but gently on your throat. He demanded, “What did he do to you?”

“Nothing, he–”

He slightly pressed his finger and thumb into the sides of your neck as a warning, then released them.

“He masturbated and–”

“Did he touch you?”

“No.”

Your daddy brought his face almost to yours, just far enough away to still look in your eyes. When he seemed satisfied that he had the truth, he squeezed your jaw and said, “open.”

You breathed a sigh of relief and opened your mouth. He spat on your tongue and you swallowed it gratefully. His hands released you and he cupped your cheek for a moment before looking back behind himself, getting ready to leave.

“I'm sorry,” you repeated.

“McCall will take care of him,” he muttered.

He pulled you off the wall and led you out of the caves with a firm grip on the back of your neck.

–

In the back of the SUV, Mr. York was sitting on the driver's side, and you were face down sprawled across the whole bench seat. You put your head on his lap, facing his crotch. He laid a hand on your forehead for a minute, but you kept crying and rubbing your face on his pants, and he was tired. He stared out the window, despite that your microskirt had ridden up to where your ass was half covered. “Daddy,” you whined.

“Stop,” he commanded with a spank. Then he squeezed his hand between your legs and your thighs opened for him. He pushed your panties to the side and slid his middle finger into your cunt. “Be quiet.” He wedged his other hand under your cheek and fed you his thumb. He closed his eyes and held you still.

For the rest of the ride, you laid still and drifted off with his finger inside you and his thumb between your lips.

--------

-------

That night there was a bonfire. Everyone was giddy, especially Cee who’d laid her hand gently on your belly, her eyes as big as saucers. She threw her arms around your neck and your tears had come even harder.

You sat in the grass by the fire soaking in its warmth, your body deliciously exhausted from emotion. Your face hurt from smiling. Ezra was behind you, his knees outside of your own, fingers tracing the skin of your bicep. On the opposite side, Clo and Rieve had already started making out. Tracy situated herself beside Ezra but you hardly noticed. When she tried passing a joint to Ezra he waved her away.

“You’re not going to leave now, are you?” Cee asked. She perched in front of you with her knees folded under. Her cheeks glowed in the warm light of the flames.

You cupped her face in your palm.

“Of course not, birdie” Ezra’s voice came as he wrapped his arm around your middle and rocked you side to side. 

You laughed and Cee let out a whoop as she stood and started spinning around. She looked beautiful and delicate like a magical woodland creature. Her silhouette was dark against the thin fabric of her dress, illuminated by orange. You could feel Tracy watching you until Cee pulled her to her feet with a bubble of laughter.

Ezra pinned you in closer to his chest, pressing a lump in the denim of his jeans at the small of your back. “I want you so desperately,” he purred against your ear. A shiver of pleasure spread over your skin. His eyes looked black as they slid across you, deep enough to fall into.

He got up and took you by the hand, leading you back to the house. It was dark inside, everything covered in shadow but you could find your way up to the bedroom blind. The bon fire shone through the bedroom windows and you could hear the far away sounds of the others singing.

Ezra laid you out on the big bed. It wasn’t Muriel’s bed anymore. This place was yours now. They’d claimed this house, your family, made a place for you, for this. You slid out of the dress, your dress, and you could barely breathe as you felt Ezra’s glinting eyes drinking you in.

“My beautiful starlight queen,” he rasped. He cupped your breast and found your nipple, sucking furiously. You moaned deeply and he made a noise of approval that set you on fire.

When he was finished, his lips were glistening and he kissed you. The sour taste from retching earlier still lingered in your mouth but Ezra didn’t seem to care. His tongue burrowed against yours eagerly as if he wanted to devour you from the inside out. He wanted all of you, even the vile parts. And you would take him the same way. Whatever had revolted you, whatever you’d feared, none of it compared to the feeling of Ezra wanting you, needing you. He’d become a part of you, one that you couldn’t cut out. 

You grasped his standing cock and tugged. Ezra let out a throaty groan but his hand encircled your wrist.

“Patience, Star,” he whispered, guiding your touch away. “My most precious jewel.”

Ezra put his lips to your fingertips and then slunk down your body, his nose trailing a heated path across your belly. His hand slid up your leg towards your center and you gasped. He knelt between your legs and inhaled deeply. The feeling of his stubble against the sensitive skin of your thigh lit up your entire body.

“I want to taste you. You’re already sweet as honey,” he said as he parted your thighs. “Soon you’ll be ripe as a peach.” His mouth surrounded you, tongue coaxing more release from you. He growled into you, vibrating up your spine and making your back arch away from the mattress. “Delicious.”

His palm splayed out on your belly as his tongue swirled over you, drinking you in. Ezra continued on noisily, drowning out the sounds of the celebrations outside. Your eyes screwed shut, overwhelmed by the mounting sensation, dizzy and glorious. He edged you closer and closer with his long strokes. A tingle burned up from Ezra’s mouth to your throat and it burst out in a feral grunt through gritted teeth.

“That’s right,” he cooed as you came down from your high. He crawled up beside you, held your chin in his big hand and put his slick lips to yours.

You were still reeling, pulsing at your core, and breathless as Ezra rolled you over him. His eyes darted over your body, greedily trying to take all of you in at once. You felt needy, desperate for more of him so you rocked up on your knees and slid down onto him. The long, straining sound he made was delicious.

You threw your head back, rolling your hips over him. Ezra’s hand found places to touch and grab– the curve of your hip, the muscles in your calf. It felt like you were floating, like you could take him up to the Green with your ecstasy alone.

Ezra’s hips stuttered against you, brows twisted, lost in pleasure. You pressed your chest against his, skin sticky with perspiration. He buried his face in your hair, snarling, and you felt his nose against the sweat on your temple. 

“Let me defile you once again,” he said. 

His ragged voice made you come apart and, just as you crested, your body quivering and plummeting like you were sliding downhill, you felt him leave you. You clenched around nothing, a cry escaping you as you panted. Ezra put your limp body onto your back and you opened your eyes to see him up on his knees, pulling at himself. Soon he was marking your stomach with his hot release, swearing and grunting.

Ezra was still sleeping when you slid out of bed. He’d pulled you into his chest before he dozed off, a heavy arm draped across your middle. 

“It’ll be a girl,” he told you. “We’ll call her Ruby.” He brushed his lips against your shoulder, the stubble on his face rough and wet. “Stay with me.”

You wouldn’t dream of being separated from him now.

Dawn was breaking, painting the room in a dull purple glow. The house was quiet and you assumed the others had gone to sleep just a few hours earlier. There was a full length mirror on the door to the armoire in the corner. You crept over and studied the reflection of your naked body.

How had you missed it? You spent so much time in your own skin and yet you hadn’t paid any attention to the swell that was growing. It wasn’t a dramatic change, a little fullness in the belly like you’d feasted on a Thanksgiving dinner. You realized now that your breasts had swollen like a balloon threatening to pop. No wonder Ezra had spent all night clutching them in his sleep.

You smoothed your open hand across your stomach. What would she look like? You hoped she had Ezra’s eyes, his thick, dark hair. A smile bloomed on your lips as you pictured him with a soft little child in the crook of his arm. You had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from letting out a laugh. 

Ezra wouldn’t let you out of bed once the mid-morning came. When you told him it was your turn to make coffee, he chuckled. “Cee can attend to that,” he said and began kissing your neck again. 

You arched your back, wiggling closer to him. It could always be like this and, still, it would never be enough of him. 

When you sighed you heard his deep purr in your ear. “Mhmm.”

His fingers had just began to tease between your legs when you heard the door squeak open. Tracy appeared with her hands behind her back and Ezra unwrapped himself, sitting up against the wooden headboard.

“Harmony,” Ezra said. 

Irritation prickled at you as she sat herself down on the corner of the bed. You rested your head on Ezra’s shoulder, tangled your fingers into his.

“I can’t believe I didn’t realize,” Tracy said. “Star, you’re like, totally glowing.”

“She is,” Ezra agreed. “Yet Star has always been incandescent.” 

“What’s it feel like?” she tried.

She looked at Ezra skittishly trying to see if he was listening. You noticed it, though she hid it well. For a moment, you felt bad for her.

“I don’t know,” you told her. “It’s special.”

“Far out,” she responded. “I’ve never held a baby before.”

The image that popped into your head made you feel nauseated again. You had the urge to snatch away a child that wasn’t there. Suddenly, you grasped at your stomach and whined, curling into yourself. Ezra was immediately attentive, concern cutting his brow. You breathed in a hiss of air and buried your face into him. 

“Star,” he said.

“Hurts,” you replied.

“I’ll get her some water,” Tracy said and rushed out. 

Ezra rubbed your back gently, murmuring reassurances. After a moment you sighed and wiped sweat off of your brow. 

“What’s troubling you?” Ezra asked. 

“It’s nothing,” you told him. Your voice sounded weak. “I feel better.”

“It appears to be a wealth of something,” he said. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. I just felt this…vibration.”

You could see Ezra’s eyes harden just slightly. Tracy was in the room again. 

“Drink this, Star,” she said. 

You winced when she handed you the glass and when she put her palm on your shoulder you shivered. 

“Harmony, allow her to rest,” Ezra said. 

Tracy flushed and nodded, quickly retreating from the room. Ezra got up and slid into his jeans. He tilted your chin up for a kiss.

“Sleep,” he whispered and then he left, closing the door softly behind him.  

You never saw Tracy again. 

You didn’t know what Ezra said to her but she was gone the next morning. There was a part of you, the part that had wondered about old Muriel, that questioned whether she’d actually left of her own free will. But you’d been able to ignore that voice before so just enjoyed the fact that she was gone and you were here with Ezra and the family and Ruby. 

You were happier than you could ever remember. Every morning you woke up with your legs tangled around Ezra’s– hot, naked skin cooled by the breeze from the open window. Occasionally Cee would sleep next to you but Ezra, he was all yours. He didn’t want anyone else, never spent the night in another bed, would leave you breathless and spent over and over again. During the day, he touched you carefully and watched you with an intense desire that made you feel dizzy. Ezra whispered in your ear about how exceptional you were, how beautiful you’d become, how he couldn’t keep his hands off of you. 

The others took extra care of you, never asking you to volunteer for chores. Cee would pick flowers for you and write poems with words that rhymed with ‘Ruby.’ Even Clo was sweet to you and brought a pint of ice cream back when she and Rieve drove into town. 

It was the best week of your life. If only you’d known how quickly it would all change. 

You were on the porch that afternoon. The sky was the most perfect shade of blue, warm sun bathing the yard. It was autumn and the only leaves that still held onto the trees were red and purple. Cee braided Clo’s hair on the front steps. Rieve had just finished chopping wood. He laid against the painted floor of the porch, occasionally plucking a string on his guitar.

Ezra was happy that day. He had you in his lap, moving lazily in the rocking chair as his fingers slid your skirt up inch by inch with excruciating patience. Usually he’d be rambling on with one of his stories but he hadn’t spoken in a long time. Instead, he hummed a tune that was only loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“What song is that?” you asked him in a whisper.

He looked up at you with shining eyes and a mischievous smile. Your skirt wandered further up your thigh. Ezra opened his mouth to answer but he was distracted by the sound of crunching gravel. You turned to see a car pulling up the driveway.

“Who could that be, Birdie?” Ezra asked.

In the corner of your eye you saw Cee go rigid. Rieve sat up on his elbows.

The station wagon pulled to a stop close to the house. Its plates said Wisconsin or Washington, you never could quite remember. A woman in the passenger seat got out like a spring. She was somewhere in her 50s or 60s and the sour look on her face did little to make her look youthful. Her strawberry blonde perm was covered by a plastic kerchief and a little handbag bounced off of her arm.

Ezra slid you off of his lap and stood, stretching like a cat that had just woken up from a nap in the sun. “Afternoon,” he said. 

The woman ignored him. Her little eyes looked over the property and you noticed how thickly she’d coated her lashes in mascara. “Harold, look at this place,” she said in disgust. 

Harold unfolded himself out of the driver’s seat and had just managed to put his hat on as she berated him. He was balding and looked tired. 

“How can I be of service to you?” Ezra inquired.

“Now, what’s going on here?” Harold asked. 

“Where’s Muriel?” the woman demanded.

You swallowed. Ezra had dispatched with the old ladies easily but this woman was raring to fight.

Ezra looked between them he answered, “I’m afraid she isn’t at home.”

“Oh, don’t give us that malarkey,” Harold groaned.

Clo giggled quietly and you shot her a look. Cee’s body seemed to shrink on the other end of the steps.

“Aunt Muriel!” the woman began to call, craning her neck towards the windows on the second floor. “Aunt Muriel! It’s me, Rita!”

“Rita,” Ezra said, his voice as steady as ever. “You’ll have to forgive me but I have some tragic news.”

“I’ve heard all about it,” Rita snapped. She thrust a hand into her purse and pulled out a folded page. “A letter of condolence from her Rotary Club.”

Rieve started to gnaw at the corner of his fingernail.

“That’s right,” Ezra told her.

“And who the hell are you people?” Her face was blotchy with righteous anger as she peered at the letter. “Her granddaughter?” she scoffed. “She never had any children.”

“We live here,” you said. You weren’t sure how the words had come out so easily, so defiantly but you were standing tall with your arms crossed. 

“Why in God’s name would a bunch of hooligans be living in my aunt’s house?” she snarled. “Where is she? What have you done with her?”

“She is deceased,” Ezra said, some of the cold irritation edging into his voice.

“What is this?” she went on. “You’ve turned the place into some kind of whorehouse?” 

You could see Ezra’s shoulders rising and falling as he tried to keep his breath steady. Your jaw clenched so tightly you thought your teeth might shatter.

“Harold, get back in the car. We’re going to the police!” Rita said. 

Just as you’d spoken so easily, everything that happened next came like an avalanche. Your vision tunneled. Rita turned towards the station wagon. You grabbed up the axe that had been left resting by the steps. Its wooden handle was still warm from Rieve’s grip. 

THWACK. 

It was kind of funny. The noise of blunt side of the axe connecting with Rita’s head was a lot quieter than you would have expected. And she didn’t immediately crash to the ground either. Instead, she reeled around, stepped towards you on wobbly feet, all while making a guttural groan. 

Harold cried out and lunged for you and Clo tackled him to the ground. You hardly noticed, still incensed, smashing the axe into Rita’s skull again until she’d finally gone down.

All the while, your mind flashed hot. You weren’t going to lose Ezra because of this cunt. You hadn’t let anything come between you. You weren’t going to give up this life, not when you were finally happy, not when Ruby was on the way. You weren’t going to see your family threatened. Not by this bitch who hadn’t even noticed her aunt was six feet under. Fuck her. Fuck anybody that would keep you from what was yours. 

Harold was screaming his head off, begging and scraping his fingers at the dirt. Somehow he managed to wriggle away and scramble onto his feet. You were so caught up in your fury that you didn’t see him approach, didn’t brace yourself when he leapt at you, circling you around the middle and pulling you to the ground. You landed hard on your side and you heard Cee call out your name but you didn’t feel anything at all even as the wind was knocked out of your lungs. Reive pulled Harold off you easily and Clo started kicking him in the stomach. 

When Rita was finally down in the dirt, she flopped around twitching like a fish out of water until she stopped moving altogether. There was so much blood. A pool of between her matted hair and the clear plastic kerchief, smeared up the handle of the axe, staining your dress all up your belly. There was blood on your legs, too hot and sticky on your thighs. 

You were breathing hard and you struggled to stand, the axe suddenly so heavy. You felt your heart beating fast in your chest, too fast. No, it was beating lower. Two heartbeats out of rhythm. You were shaking and you turned back to the porch, an eerie silence taking hold as Harold stopped whimpering. The axe handle slid from your grip and it fell with a thud against the earth. Cee was staring, a look of terror over her features. It made you laugh. There was nothing to worry about now. You’d done what you had to do but you were all safe now. 

Your vision was going blurry. 

Ezra was on the steps, motionless, his dark eyes on you, brows raised, lips parted. His expression was hard to read but he looked so handsome like that. He was a yard away but somehow he caught you before you fell to your knees. Everything was getting dark and you were so dizzy. Now there was yet another heartbeat pounding in your ears. You felt Ezra’s palm on your belly and the last thing you heard before you passed out was his voice saying your name.

“Star.”

You sit in the hard metal chair. How many times has he said your name?

“Where are they?” one of the doctors asks. 

You begin to shake, your whole body shivering, tears budding in your eyes. The beige cinderblocks of the room seem to radiate cold, all the walls bare except for a clock. On the other side of the white table are three men, one with glasses, another taking notes. 

“Where are the others?” the doctor asks. 

You take a shuddering breath.

“On the Green,” you say, plastering a smile on your face but your lips twitch and quiver.

You know that’s not true. But you want it to be, desperately. You close your eyes every night before you fall asleep on the thin mattress and you see Ezra there, waiting for you. He has to be waiting for you.

“Come on, Star,” one of them says. His voice is tender but the words are cruel. “They left you there, didn’t they? They took you to the hospital but they didn’t stick around. They got out of dodge.”

Your head begins to shake back and forth uncontrollably and the tears fall down onto your cheeks. Your chest is so tight it burns.

“Ezra abandoned you.”

You nearly double over. This doctor doesn’t know anything. He’s lying to you. Ezra loves you. You and Ruby. But Ruby’s just an ache in the pit of your stomach, a punch in the fucking gut. You cry and tremble. 

“Stop fooling yourself. They left you behind. Don’t you think you deserve better than that?” he asks and has the audacity to sound concerned. 

You want to tell him to fuck off. He doesn’t know shit about it. But you just close your eyes. 

“We’re trying to help you, Star.”

The words to one of Cee’s poems come to mind and you recite it silently over and over until you can’t hear what anyone’s telling you. 

“I think we’ve put her through enough today,” someone says. 

Once you settle down and stop hearing your pulse in your ears, after instructions to take deep breaths, they secure the cold cuffs around your wrists before escorting you back down the hall. You can’t be sure how long it’s been since you came here. And where here is, you’re not certain of either. They give you medicine that dulls your memories, makes you sluggish and puts the edges of things out of focus. Sometimes you wonder if this isn’t just a bad trip, a wrong turn on the way to the Green. If that’s the case it’ll end, that’s what you tell yourself. 

They take you back to your room. Or is it a cell? You wait. 

You close your eyes and remember the feeling of Ezra’s touch, the softness of Cee’s lips. It’s lonely here but they’re still with you.

Tonight, when you fall asleep on the threadbare cot, wrapped in the itchy smock you always seem to be wearing, you wake up again on the Green. 

It’s dark and there's a chill in the air and you can hear the bugs chirping. You’re not wearing your suit but the air smells clean and moist. You make your way through the tall ferns, foliage tickling your shins, the ground plush beneath your bare feet. A glow outlines the rust colored trunks— a lantern hung outside of a tent. And you know what’s waiting inside. 

-

Later that day, Ezra returns from a trek and tells you, "I found a ship that will take us.”

Your face lights up. “Oh, that’s great.”  

Ezra continues, “One of the crew members fell victim to a damaged air filter today while he was alone" 

Your face falls.  "That's awful," you say.  And a little too convenient. 

"We leave tomorrow." 

-

That night, you do the same thing, pretending to be asleep. You're lying on your stomach in your sleeping bag.   

Ezra is sitting in the camp chair breathing heavily. His soft grunts and skin-on-skin are loud in your ears. You squeeze your thighs together at the sound of his voice.

"Mmm," you sigh. "Take me, Ezra." 

"Ohhh," he sighs. 

"Take me now," you whisper, eyes still shut, breathing regulated. "Mmmm."

"Oh my Lord," Ezra whispers as he strokes himself. 

"Ohh," you sigh. "Take me in my sleep." 

"Oh shit," he breathes. His hand slows. "You mean that?"

"Mmm yeah," you whisper. 

"Oh shit," he exhales. "Ohh, shit," he says shakily.  He pants heavily. 

"Please," you beg with your eyes closed. "Need it," you whisper.

"Ohh, lord," he strokes himself again, panting harder.  

"Need your big cock"

"Ohhh, fuuuck," he exhales.  He stops stroking himself entirely, then approaches your sleeping bag."Oh, fuck," he repeats. "Oh, fuck. . . Can't stop this," he whispers. "Oh, god." 

He carefully unzips the sleeping bag then murmurs, "You want this," as he pulls down your shorts. You stir but don't appear to wake up. He wedges a finger between your legs and feels how wet you are. "Ohh, shit," he laments, unable to stop what he's about to do. He begins to breathe more quickly. His movements become more urgent. 

"Mmm," you say. 

He nudges your legs apart, aligns himself, then whispers in your ear. "You want this bad."

"Mmmm," you sigh in affirmation. 

"As you wish," he whispers.  He notches the head of his cock at your wet, wet entrance. "Ohh, lord." He hesitates for a moment, feeling your body try to suck him in. 

"Yeahh," you sigh sleepily. 

“Ohhhh.” He begins to push his huge tip inside you with a shaky moan. 

You moan in return. "Oh, Ezra." 

"Ohh Lord," his deep voice whines shakily. He pushes further and you moan again at the stretch of his girth. 

"Ohh, yeah," you sigh as he buries more of himself inside you. 

"Ohhhh," he sighs, pausing almost fully inside you as your body adjusts to the intrusion. You're so full of him. "You want this," he reassures himself once again. "You want it bad," he whispers shakily. He retreats an inch or two then shoves all of himself into you, bottoming out with a shudder. "Ahh, fuck." 

"Yeah," you whisper, eyes still closed. "Just like that." He backs up, then smoothly but decisively pushes into you with a grunt. 

"Mmmm," you sigh. 

He buries his length in you again and again, filling you to the brim each time, grunting.   You push your ass back into him, meeting his thrusts with soft grunts of your own.  You clench your thighs and squeeze cunt around his cock and sigh, "ohhh.”

"Yeah, you love this," he whispers. "Yeah, you do."  His breath becomes more ragged and he begins to moan and grunt less restrained, but his voice is still low and breathy.   Your lower belly is a well of tension. If you can feel him come, you’ll come, too. 

"Fill me up," you whisper. It brings him all the way to the brink of his peak, but he won't do it.  If he doesn't come, the only evidence will be your soreness, which you could try to explain away. 

"Ohh," you sigh. "Mmm." 

He pulls out of you and rolls out of your bag, onto his back on the ground. He pants quickly and heavily, then sighs, "Ohhh, god," as he erupts in his hand. He doesn't lie there long. He gets up and rinses his hand with water then dries it off on his own pants. 

-

He sits back in the camp chair, legs spread, chest heaving.  His brow furrows and he covers his mouth as he considers what he just did. He shakes his head and prays for forgiveness as he watches you sleep.  You had a need.  He provided.  He tells himself over and over.  While he’s torturing himself, you squeeze your thighs together and silently finish yourself off.  

The next day there were new things occupying your thoughts. The conversation you’d overheard ran through your mind and you tried desperately to wring meaning out of what Cee and Ezra had said. You were so lost in your own thoughts that you hardly noticed the fact that Tracy was sitting in Ezra’s lap at the kitchen table. You couldn’t eat. You’d woken up nauseated yet again but today nothing would relieve it.

“I can’t believe you’ve never heard the Rolling Stones,” Tracy giggled.

“Is it so inconceivable?” Ezra replied with amusement. 

Everyone else was in great spirits, even Cee. You were sure she’d been upset, had heard the fear in her voice. Your throat twisted with acid but you clenched your jaw shut and bounced your foot under the table.

“Well, Harmony, you’ll have to regale us with one of their tunes,” Ezra said.

“I can play Paint it Black,” Reive offered.

“Do you know Lady Jane?” Tracy asked.

“I think so,” he replied.

You could feel the energy in the room though you weren’t listening to the conversation. A faint smile ghosted on your lips to mimic Tracy’s.

“Star, what’s your favorite?” she asked but you hadn’t been paying attention.

You opened your mouth and blinked.

“Your favorite song. By the Stones,” Tracy tried again.

You didn’t give a fuck about the Roling Stones, not right now. But Tracy was waiting excitedly and Ezra eyed you.

“They play Under My Thumb on the radio all the time,” you shrugged.

“See. Everybody knows the Stones,” she told Ezra triumphantly. 

Ezra shifted Tracy off of his lap. “You two should rehearse while Star accompanies me on a constitutional,” he said.

He was standing in front of you expectantly. Yesterday it would have thrilled you to have a moment alone with Ezra but now you felt uneasy. Before you even knew what you were doing, your feet were obediently carrying you out to the porch. You heard the screen door close with a thwack and Ezra nodded for you to follow him.

“Something’s troubling you, Star,” he said and his eyes scanned the horizon as you walked towards the trees.

You shook your head.

“I know Cee is your confidant but if she’s said something that upset you, I want you to inform me. There shouldn’t be secrets between us.”

“She didn’t,” you answered honestly. You could have told him what you’d overheard but it scared you. You didn’t want to repeat it, didn’t want to go down that path. But it was gnawing away at you.

Ezra looked at you for a moment, nodded to himself.

“I got the impression you were enjoying Harmony’s company,” he tried.

“Yeah. She’s outta sight.”

Ezra left a long pause. You knew he was waiting for you to say more because he was always so quick to fill a silence. 

“Did you know there are inhabitants on the Green? Settlers?” he finally said. 

He began telling you some story but you could barely hear anything more than the melody of his voice. One question circled your mind over and over, tightening your chest and pressing your heart up your throat. You were afraid it might come up when you spoke. 

“What happened to the old woman?” you eventually blurted out.

Ezra scratched at the scar on his cheek with his index finger. 

“She crossed the great divide, shuffled off this mortal coil,” he said without hesitation.

“Yeah but how?”

“The method is not wholly important or interesting,” he told you.

You stared at him, unsure if you wanted to press him. Something told you that if you did, you’d hear things you didn’t want to know.  You thought about Eve in the garden of Eden with her lips to the apple. You didn’t want to take the first bite. But how could you live in the dark?

“I’m interested,” you said.

Ezra stopped walking and leaned his weight on one leg. He was breathing heavily in the sun, his shoulders rising and falling. He looked at you for a long moment, then tilted his head and shrugged. 

“She was killed,” he said.

Your heart squeezed and you swallowed hard. 

“By who?” 

“By us,” he said plainly. He didn’t look proud of this fact but he hardly looked remorseful.

Your eyes darted around. You hoped you were dreaming.

“All of you?” you asked, imagining something gruesome. 

“All of us,” he said, nodding his head towards you. “We’re a family. You’re part of it.”

Tears came to your eyes and you blinked to keep them back. It couldn’t be true. You couldn’t picture Cee or Clo or Reive murdering someone. Ezra had killed before but that was in a war, not some old lady. 

“I don’t want to kill anybody,” you choked out.

“It is unpalatable but sometimes necessary,” Ezra said.

“Necessary? Why?”

He let out a soft laugh. “I thought you’d learned. In order to survive, one must sometimes partake in those actions we find so detestable. Made only so by these rules society imposes upon us.”

Suddenly your cheeks felt damp and you shook your head. You recalled the kind face of the woman in the photograph on the dresser. You’d been living in her house, wearing the clothes you found in her closet, fucking in her bed. 

“Star,” Ezra said and stepped towards you but you stepped away. He put his hand up. “If I were on the Green and there was one man between me and a warm bed, and a hot meal–”

“That’s different,” you reasoned. You couldn’t figure out how but it couldn’t have been the same.

“The things that we require in this world, unfortunately, we must take. Simple as that,” he spoke over you.

“I can’t…” you sobbed.

“Star, you already understand,” he said and his eyes darkened. “Tell me you haven’t considered doing the very same to Harmony.”

“No!” 

Ezra chuckled. “You can lie to me but you can’t deceive yourself.”

Your whole body quivered and you thought you might be sick. He was right and you hated yourself for it. You would have wrapped your hands around Tracy’s neck like Ezra had done to you. But you wouldn’t stop. You’d watch her turn blue and swollen as she clawed against your grip. You’d feel her body spasm until it went still. The image of her, cold and motionless beneath you, made you panic. You ran. 

The screen door snapped shut behind you as you tore into the house. Everyone was still lounging around the table like nothing had happened. Reive picked at the strings of his guitar and Clo watched with her chin balanced dreamily in her hands. 

“Star?” Cee asked, a smile fading on her lips. 

How could they be so blithe?

“We’re going to sing ‘Mother’s Little Helper,’” Tracy announced. 

Seeing her face only tightened your chest. If you stayed here, you’d suffocate. If you didn’t go, you’d snap and wring Tracy’s pretty neck, smash her face into pulp. You’d be just like the rest of them.

You tripped up the stairs. The quilted bag you’d brought with you had been discarded in the corner of one of the bedrooms. You had no idea what was even in there anymore but you snatched it up and raced back downstairs.

You wiped tears away with the back of your hand once you reached the road. The trees stacked thick along the shoulder shielded the farmhouse from view. You realized that you had no idea where you were exactly, had no clue which direction to even head in– you’d been asleep for most of the drive to the farm and hadn’t left since. 

Still, your feet chose a path and you started marching down the deserted road, hoping someone would pass by and pick you up. It didn’t matter how long you had to walk as long as you were away from them. How had your family, once again, turn into monsters? You gulped for air and wiped snot on the sleeve of your dress. The old woman’s dress. You shuddered.

Eventually your feet got tired and you leaned against a tree to catch your breath. You waited for a long time, your heart finally slowing and exhaustion overtaking you. You folded yourself in half and buried your face in your hands. The sun was sinking lower in the sky and a cold breeze rustled your skirt against your knees.

A noise came behind you, and you turned, ready to stretch your thumb out to the road. 

“Star, come on back,” Cee begged. She was ten feet behind you, her cheeks red from the exertion of chasing you down.

You couldn’t look at her, fall into the blue of her eyes. You kept your attention fixed on the road, craning your neck around her, desperate for a car to come by. 

“Talk to Ezra. He wants you to stay,” she tried. 

“He killed that lady,” you said, finally looking at her. 

“He didnt,” she said, deflated. 

You searched her face for more but she looked at the ground and then back up at you. You were shaking again. 

“Come on. You’ll stand out here all night,” she reasoned. “Just come back. Talk to Ezra. If you want to go in the morning, Clo will drive you to the station.”

You felt yourself nodding and soon you were following her back up the road.

Ezra sat in a high backed armchair in the living room as if he was a king holding court. The others were sprawled out around the room and a record spun lazily on the turntable, clicking softly as the needle swerved close to the label. It seemed like no one had the energy to flip to the b side. 

As you came in, you heard Ezra send Tracy for more wood from the yard and she obediently stood from the floor and left. Your chest had loosened on the quiet walk back with Cee but being back in Ezra’s presence suddenly made your throat thick and constricted.

“Star, are the hysterics really necessary?,” Ezra turned his bored eyes to you. 

“You— how could you do that?” you stuttered. 

“I’ve already explained it to you,” Ezra said. 

“Don’t lose sleep over it, Star. That old bitch called me a gook,” Clo informed you. “I’m not going to miss her.”

“You don’t have to leave,” Cee said, entwining her fingers in yours. 

“I think I should,” you said. It was painful to get the words out. “Besides you have Harmony now.”

Ezra didn’t hide his eye roll. 

“But…I don’t have any bread,” you said. You could hitchhike but eventually you would need some money. 

“Unfortunately neither do we,” Ezra shrugged. “Money’s of no use to us here.”

You were on the verge of tears again.

“I’m not going to tell anyone. I just, I just want to go,” you said. 

“You are free to depart at your leisure,” Ezra said. He sat forward on the edge of his seat. “But where will you go? To the city? Back home to those awful parents of yours?”

The idea stuck you and your chest started to burn. 

“You’re upset. Once you take the edge off, you’ll see. This is your family,” he said. His voice sounded so deep you could drown in it. He got to his feet and put his hand on your shoulder. “The rest of the world disposed of you like garbage. No one out there sees what I see in you. You belong here. And I could not describe the melancholy I would feel if you were to abandon me.”

You were so tired and scared. You needed to be held so badly in that moment that when Ezra pulled you against his chest, you let him embrace you, run his hand down your back and whisper into your hair. 

“That’s alright. You see.”

You cried into his shirt, balling your fists into it. 

“There’s no need for all that,” Ezra assured you, rocking you back and forth. “You’re with me.”

You stayed in bed the next day, watching the sun pace the sky through the window, the shadows crawl across the floor. You felt nauseated, sick with guilt and fear. You knew you should go, walk down to the road and continue on until your feet gave out. That poor woman. 

But you knew Ezra was right. There was nowhere to go. No one gave a damn about you. Here they loved you. 

Cee slipped in throughout the day and stroke your hair. Each time it would bring fresh tears to your eyes. How could you leave her? How could you believe that they had ever done anything cruel?

Your mind went up and down the slide so many times that finally, you were ill. You flung back the blankets and raced for the bathroom again. You choked up bile that burned the inside of your throat. It was a horrible sensation, even worse than the last time, your body rebelling against you. Once the fit had passed, you saw Cee had come in and sat down in the doorway.

You leaned back against the claw foot tub, trying to draw the cool of the porcelain into your sweaty skin. 

“Star, don’t go,” she said. 

You couldn’t, not in this state. You felt wrung out, your abdomen aching from retching, your eyes were bloodshot and your knees trembled. You tried to focus on the way Cee’s legs bent across the door jamb, toes arched against the frame, to keep yourself from another wave of nausea.

“Not after this long. You’re part of us,” Cee went on. 

You wracked your brain. How long had it been since you’d even arrived at the farm? You had taken multiple trips to the Green with Ezra. How many hours had passed here on earth? It had to have been months since you’d left New York. 

Losing time had been easy without the usual indicators. You didn’t live by a schedule, there were no calendars. Something dawned on you and you felt dizzy. You put your forehead against your knees, staring down at the tile below you. 

There was one marker that had disappeared. You hadn’t even noticed it was gone. And without it, you had no reason to count the weeks. 

Panic set in and your heart hammered again. Then, just as quickly, you were calm. Like a choice had been taken out of your hands, pressure leaving you. You stood, weak but determined, and stepped over Cee into the hall. You heard her call after you as you went downstairs. 

“I suppose this is farewell,” Ezra said when you came out to the porch. He sat in the old rocking chair, a disinterested look on his face.

“I need to talk to you,” you demanded.

“You’ve said your piece,” he replied.

You frowned and took his hand. You’d never commanded him in such a way before but you didn’t care anymore, felt no need to be timid any longer. You pressed his hand into you, low on your stomach and stared into his brown eyes as they melted from annoyed confusion to wonder. A warm sensation emanated out from under his touch. He shook his head slightly and it seemed that he had been stunned silent for the very first time.

Ezra sank to his knees in front of you. He brushed his hand over your belly, so careful, and he looked up at you with shining eyes. 

“The first child of the Green,” he said, his voice a low rasp.

He put his lips to you softly beside his fingertips and nuzzled at you. He felt so warm and tender there. You gasped and something between a sob and a laugh came out, new tears spilling down your cheeks. These were different. Happy. 

-- chapter 6

NEW YORK CITY 1967

“You should come with us,” Cee had said to you in that little apartment on the Lower East Side. “Ezra wants you to.”

That was all you’d needed to hear.

You hadn’t realized you’d been looking for something until you met Ezra. He was the answer to the question you hadn’t asked yet. But he had answers for every question you could possibly think of.

Every time you heard him speak, you were drawn in closer. He had a way of seeing the world that made things feel so certain.

“Society has mandated that we deny our very human nature. That we annihilate such natural impulses as desire. It goes against our own self-preservation,” he said.

His voice was deep and raspy but somehow covered in a layer of molasses. You swore he looked right into your soul when he spoke.

“Birdie, might I implore you to introduce me to this gem you’ve shepherded to our flock?” Ezra had asked Cee.

You’d met her in the park when you’d been crashing on a couch, running out of bread. There was food and grass and beer at their parties so you kept showing up. But after the first few times, you returned because of Ezra, his lilting words swirling in your head.

Ezra didn’t look like a teacher, a thinker. He didn’t have a big beard or dress like the Hare Krishnas that hung out by the fountain. And yet he made perfect sense.

He was disarmingly handsome. His square jaw was covered in patches of stubble and on his cheek was a delicate white scar. His hair was rather short considering his scene but it was shaggy and tousled like he’d cut it himself. It was a rich shade of brown but at the front was a chunk of shocking blonde.

You couldn’t help but note that one of his sleeves was empty, pinned to his side where is arm ought to be. You always tried not to stare. They told you he’d lost it in Vietnam, come back from the war without it but with new ideas.

When Cee had introduced you, Ezra shook his head.

“That name doesn’t do you justice. I think I prefer Star,” he’d said. “What do you think?”

You’d felt as if you’d been swept off of your feet looking into his deep, brown eyes for the very first time.

So when Cee eventually told you that they were leaving, heading out to a farm in Pennsylvania, when she invited you to come along, you didn’t even have to think about it. Anything to stay close to them. You’d lost your own home and your family eight months ago. But this could be your new family, Cee promised.

There were four of you, Ezra’s closest followers, though he didn’t call you that. You were his circle, his tribe. Cee had been with him the longest– a pretty, slim girl with sharp features who must have been in her early 20s. There was a sadness in her eyes that she was good at concealing. Clo and Reive had hitchhiked together from San Francisco. Clo was tall and dark haired, almond-shaped eyes and a dreamy smile. Reive, lanky with umber skin and black hair down to his shoulders, was almost always barefoot. They all welcomed you into their group with open arms. Because Ezra had chosen you to be a part of it.

It was a little after midnight when you arrived at the house. It was a sweet looking white farmhouse with a welcoming porch. The interior looked like it had been decorated by an old woman. There was a charming old kitchen with floral wallpaper, a living room couch adorned with crocheted lace doilies, and there was an ivory table cloth on the dining room table. Over that was a layer of mess you assumed had come from your new friends— dried flowers, discarded clothing, magazines.

“This is a nice pad,” you said.

“It was Cee’s grandma’s,” Clo giggled.

Cee elbowed her.

“Perhaps you can find Star some apparel that will suit her,” Ezra suggested. You didn't have much in the way of possessions other than a quilted bag.

The girls went on their mission and Reive carried his guitar case upstairs. Ezra approached you and put his palm to your cheek.

“I’m pleased you joined us, Star,” he purred.

You were tired but exhilarated. The five of you stayed up late into the night. In the living room, Reive lit candles and built a cozy fire. You’d changed into a soft floral dress that Clo had dug out of a closet. It smelled like cedar. Cee recited poetry she’d written as they passed a joint around.

Ezra sat with his back to the hearth, you just to his left. You lay on the floor, leaned on your elbow and gazing up at him as he spoke.

“I laid on the floor of the jungle for a week, my arm festering right off of my shoulder,” he explained.

“That must’ve been awful,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“It was enlightening,” he said. “As I hovered so close to the hereafter, wishing for death to claim me, it was as if reality itself folded over. And I was transported to another time and place. To the Green. Another world, thick with trees and exotic plants and a sky that’s powder pink. And I lived there for what felt like years. And that is when I learned how to survive.”

You weren’t sure if this was something he believed or if it was just meant as some parable but, somehow, it really didn’t matter to you. There was a strangely fuzzy place where Ezra seemed to exist, somewhere between asleep and awake where you weren’t sure if you were still dreaming.

Ezra gave you a gentle nudge and you realized you’d drifted off there on the floor, sung to sleep by his voice.

“Come lay with me, little star,” he whispered.

You followed him quietly past the others, all sleeping, sprawled across the couches, up to what had once been a master bedroom.

He undressed and you felt an ache seeing his skin, the curls that sprawled down from his belly.

“Timidity is unnecessary,” he said. “This is our natural state.”

You slid off your dress and when you were naked, you got into the unmade bed beside him.

You hadn’t seen Ezra’s arm— or what had been his arm—exposed like this before. It had been taken off just under his shoulder, a smooth pink round projection remained.

“Does it hurt?” you asked him.

“In my experience pain and pleasure live equally in the mind,” he shrugged.

You laid on your side, eyes glazing over his chest. His skin was smooth aside from where there were scars and dimples on his right side.

“I...Why did you want me to come with you?” you asked. When Ezra had begun to watch you more closely back in the city, you were surprised. You’d never been special before, never chosen in a room with women like Clo or Cee.

“When I was a boy, there was a vagrant cat that followed me. A mangey, emaciated thing. It would recline on its back so I could stroke its belly until I adopted it in, fed it. It became the most elegant creature I had ever laid eyes on,” he said. “I recognize in you the very same tenacity. And beauty.”

He looked down your body, a faint smile on his lips.

“My precious Star. I want to touch you,” he said. “Would you be so kind as to provide me with a hand to do so?”

You stared at him, your mouth open, your breath shallowing. You weren’t quite sure what he wanted. Eventually, you brought your fingertips to your own lips and softly brushed over them. Ezra’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment as if he could feel them himself. You continued, moving your touch down, across your neck. Your skin was prickling with goosebumps and, as you reached your collarbone, you thought you could feel his hand. Not imagined, no. It truly felt as though his phantom limb was ghosting over you, warm skin and wide fingers that weren’t your own.

“You’re plush as velvet, Star,” he purred.

You closed your eyes and went further. As you grazed the swell of your breast you heard Ezra let out a hum. You continued, feeling his touch in yours over the hardened bud of your nipple. You hardly felt in control of your own fingers as they swept down your belly between your thighs. You were already pulsing and wet. A low moan escaped you as you gently teased at yourself.

“Such a sweet sound,” Ezra said. “Let me hear it again.”

You bit down on your lip. You could feel Ezra’s gaze on you, like nothing else existed. Heat was swiftly building in your core. You let yourself release all of the noises that you would normally hold back as you squirmed under your own touch.

Ezra continued to praise you in his flowery way. It felt like you were being made love to by a book of poetry. Feeling him beside you, his hypnotic voice, you were quickly over the edge and you gasped and shook as your senses were overwhelmed.

“Perhaps this pleasure can be a mutual one,” Ezra suggested, watching you come down with heavy lidded eyes.

Somehow your heart was beating faster now than it had been at your peak. You sat up and traced your hand over Ezra’s face, the white line on his cheek. You felt along his jawline and across his chest, carefully outlining his scars. He was hard and waiting for you, leaking down his length. You looked at him, unsure for a moment, and then wrapped your slick hand around him, mixing your own juices with his. He groaned and his hips twisted under you in his revelry. You pulled at him, your mouth watering.

“You have quite a talent for physical manipulation,” he managed.

His breath rasped, jagged, and his brows drew together. His eyes shut and you watched his lips twitching as you stroked him. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him and you felt arousal pooling again as if you could feel his ecstasy as your own.

“Oh shit, shit,” he panted.

He tensed and his cock throbbed under you and soon you were pumping his warm release into your fist. You watched his face relax, a serene expression overtaking his features, and when he opened his eyes, he looked at you more tenderly than anyone had before.

“Absolute perfection. How fortunate I am to have found you, Star,” he said, finally touching you with his own hand— a brief stroke on your jaw with his knuckles.

You were breathless and you felt as though you might cry from his words. You wanted to kiss him but it felt like something you should be given, not take when you wanted it.

Once you had cleaned yourself up, Ezra pulled you against his warm body, his arm holding you possessively, and he fell asleep.

By now you could see the twilight lifting outside and your lack of sleep was catching up to you. It felt like you had been brought to another world just as Ezra had explained. Except, in this one you were loved.

--- chapter two