CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 20

EZRA

The box looked harmless.

That’s what made it worse.

I pulled it out of my bag and stared. A humidifier stick. A little portable fan. That’s what they looked like. Sleek. Innocent. Normal.

The brand deserved an award. Because if Genevieve saw this, she would probably pat my head and say, “How responsible, Ezra, always caring for your health.”

If only she knew.

The door creaked and I panicked, shoving the box back into my bag.

“Ezra,” Genevieve’s voice carried in. “Are you studying?”

I sat straighter at my desk. “Yes, ma’am.”

She peeked in, all polished smile and perfect posture. “Good. Keep it up. I’ll be out for a few hours. Don’t forget to lock the door.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She closed it behind her.

I sat still for five long seconds. Then jumped up, locked it, and leaned against the door. My heart was already pounding like I’d been caught.

I looked at the box again. Bit my lip.

No. I shouldn’t.

I lasted three minutes before I reached for my laptop.

Incognito mode. Fast. My fingers trembled as I typed. Men. Masturbating.

The first video started. A guy on his bed, sweaty, moaning into his hand. My throat went dry.

“Oh God,” I whispered, adjusting in my chair.

I was hard. Just watching.

This is wrong. This is so wrong.

I pressed my palm to my crotch anyway, testing the ache. A hiss escaped me.

I bit my lip harder. “Stop. Ezra, stop.”

I didn’t.

Another video. Two guys this time. One on his knees, the other groaning above him.

My whole body burned. I whispered, “I can’t—” but I pushed my pants down anyway. My hand wrapped around myself.

The first stroke almost broke me.

I groaned into my sleeve. My body jolted. God, that feels—

I buried my face in my arm, trying to keep quiet. Every breath came out ragged.

And then—like Satan was laughing at me—I clicked on another video.

A priest. Collar still on. A guy under him.

I froze.

Heat slammed into me so hard I thought I might pass out.

“No,” I whispered. “Not that.”

But I couldn’t look away.

The priest leaned down, whispered into the guy’s ear, and the moan that followed went straight through me.

My mind betrayed me. Replaced the man on screen with Father Dorian. His tattoos. His hands. His mouth.

“Oh God,” I whimpered, stroking faster. “Why—why him—”

I couldn’t breathe.

My eyes landed on the box again.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed the smaller one. The one that looked like a fan.

My hands shook opening it.

Inside, it wasn’t a fan at all. Smooth. Slim. Sleek.

I stared at it, my face on fire.

“No way. No—”

But I was already reaching for the oil on my desk.

It felt messy. Wrong. Awkward. My fingers slid as I coated it, my heart racing.

I turned it on. The soft hum filled the room.

I bit down on my shirt. “God forgive me.”

And then I pushed it in. Slowly.

My breath snapped. My eyes rolled back.

“Holy—”

I stuffed the pillow against my face to kill the sound.

It slid in deeper, buzzing, making my toes curl. I writhed, trying to breathe, trying to keep quiet.

It wasn’t smooth at first—clumsy, awkward—but then it hit somewhere inside me that made my vision blur.

“Oh—oh my God.”

My hips bucked on their own. I clutched the sheets, face buried, moans spilling even though I fought them.

The toy worked in and out, buzzing, drilling. Every movement shot sparks down my spine.

I was shaking. My eyes rolled back again.

And in my mind—it wasn’t just a toy.

It was him.

Father Dorian.

His hands on my hips. His voice in my ear. His body above mine, pinning me down.

“Ezra,” I imagined him saying, low and rough. “Take it.”

I sobbed into the pillow, hips moving faster. My body burned, the vibration tearing me apart.

I came with a cry muffled into the sheets. White exploded across my vision. My whole body jerked, shaking, the toy still buzzing inside me.

“Stop,” I gasped, fumbling with it. My hands were slippery, clumsy, but I finally managed to turn it off.

I collapsed onto my back, chest heaving. Sweat clung to my skin. My legs trembled.

I stared at the ceiling, dazed.

And I smiled.

“I get it now,” I whispered. My voice cracked.

I understood why people did this.

Why they chased this feeling.

I’d never felt so alive. So good.

And so dirty.

The guilt trickled in slow. Heavy. Crushing.

I turned my head toward the cross on my wall.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

But my body was still humming with aftershocks. My lips curved despite the shame.

I was wrecked. Fucked out. And all I could think was how badly I wanted it again.

Not from a toy.

From him.

From Father Dorian.

I woke up sore.

Not like gym sore. Not like I-carried-too-many-books sore.

Lower.

Deep.

The memory hit me like a punch. Last night. The toy. My moans stuffed into my pillow. Thinking of Father Dorian until I—

“Stop,” I muttered, dragging my hands over my face. “Do not think about it. Do not.”

I got dressed fast, splashed water on my face, and grabbed my bag. My whole body felt like it was humming, even though it had been hours.

By the time I walked onto campus, my head was in the clouds.

The library was quiet, filled with the smell of dust and coffee. Lily had already spread her books across a table like she owned it.

“Finally,” she said when I dropped into the chair across from her. “I thought you overslept.”

“I didn’t.”

“You look like you did.”

I rolled my eyes. “Good morning to you too.”

She grinned, flipping a page. “Good morning.”

We settled into silence, or at least she did. I stared at my math textbook like it was written in another language.

Last night’s images kept sneaking back. The toy. The p**n. Dorian’s face in my head.

I shook it off. Focus. Integrals. Numbers.

“You’re sighing a lot,” Lily whispered after a few minutes.

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Every five seconds—” She exaggerated a loud sigh. “Like that.”

I glared. “Focus on your book.”

“Rude,” she muttered, hiding her smile.

Before I could argue, Jordan slid into the seat beside her, dropping her engineering notes onto the table.

“Morning, nerds.”

Lily lit up like Christmas. “Jordan! Finally. I was dying in here.”

“You’ve been here ten minutes,” Jordan said flatly, pulling out a pen.

“Ten minutes too long.”

I snorted, and Lily kicked me under the table.

Jordan noticed. Of course she noticed. Her eyes flicked from Lily’s blush to me. Then she leaned back in her chair, smirking.

“So,” Jordan said casually, “why’s Ezra acting weird?”

My head snapped up. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I’m not acting weird.”

“You’re sighing. Fidgeting. Staring at the same page.”

Lily glanced at me, curious now. “Yeah, actually. What’s up with you?”

Panic shot through me. Oh God. They know. They know I—

“I’m just—” My voice cracked. I cleared my throat. “I’m just tired. From the retreat.”

Jordan raised an eyebrow. “Retreat ended three days ago.”

“I’m still recovering,” I said quickly. “All the walking. The praying. It was a lot.”

Lily tilted her head. “That’s true. You did complain about the steep road.”

Jordan didn’t look convinced. She smirked, tapping her pen against the table. “Right. Retreat exhaustion. Sure.”

I groaned. “Drop it.”

Jordan chuckled. “Fine.”

Lily leaned forward, whispering like she was sharing a secret. “He’s always like this. Spacey. Moody. Maybe he’s in love.”

I nearly choked on my own spit. “What? No. I’m not—I’m not in love.”

Jordan’s smirk widened. “That was defensive.”

“Because it’s not true!”

Lily giggled. “Relax. I was joking.”

I shoved my nose back into my textbook. “Focus, please. Finals are coming.”

“Fine, fine.” Lily whispered to Jordan, “See? Spacey.”

I glared at her. She winked.

Hours passed. We scribbled notes, shared pencils, argued about formulas. Jordan kept making sarcastic comments. Lily kept laughing too loud.

At one point, Jordan leaned over and brushed something off Lily’s cheek. Lily froze, cheeks turning red.

“Pizza sauce,” Jordan explained, straight-faced.

Lily squeaked and dropped her pen.

I smirked. “Smooth.”

“Shut up, Ezra,” Lily hissed, glaring at me.

Jordan just chuckled.

For a moment, I forgot my own mess. Watching them was almost funny. Almost normal.

Until Jordan turned back to me and asked, “Seriously though, Ezra. You good?”

Her voice was softer this time. Serious.

I forced a smile. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

She studied me like she didn’t believe it. Then nodded. “Okay.”

But my chest felt tight. Because I wasn’t fine. Not even close.

By the time we packed up, the sun was setting. We walked out together, the air cool around us.

Lily skipped ahead, humming. Jordan shoved her hands in her pockets, glancing at her every now and then.

I trailed behind, lost in my own head.

“Ezra!” Lily called, snapping me out of it. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” I said, forcing a smile.

But deep down, all I could think was how much trouble I was already in.

And how much worse it was going to get.