Page 63 of Every Eligible Man

"The wedding vows were really hot," he says conversationally. "The part about loving my chaos? Very romantic."

"I meant every…"

He slides into my mouth, cutting off the sentiment.

Ash sets a brutal pace, no warm-up, no teasing, just raw need that's been building through the entire ceremony. I feel every inch of him, thick and demanding, hitting spots that make my toes curl.

Slade joins from behind, my ass, this time, because "we should christen everything properly" and the stretch of two cocks at once is devastating and perfect.

Wreck works my mouth with shallow thrusts, his hands gentle on my face even as his cock demands attention.

"This is the best wedding ever," he announces. "I'm having such a good time."

I'd agree, but my mouth is full.

The altar creaks beneath us.

"Careful," Slade warns. "We don't want to…"

The altar groans ominously.

We don't stop.

"It's fine," Ash grunts, picking up speed. "It's reinforced."

"It's making concerning noises."

"It's fine."

We've been at this for approximately four minutes when the first leg gives out.

The altar lurches dramatically to the left. All four of us scramble for purchase, still connected, still refusing to stop, as the massive oak table begins a slow, dignified collapse.

"Abandon altar!" Wreck yells, but he doesn't actually pull out.

None of us do.

The second leg gives out.

The third.

The altar crashes to the ground in a cacophony of splintering wood, scattered candles, and extremely determined fucking.

We land in a pile of debris, sacred relics, and wedding flowers.

We don't stop.

"I specifically asked for reinforced," I gasp.

"Maybe it was reinforced for prayer," Slade suggests. "Not for this."

"Keep going."

From his chandelier, One-Eye stares down at the wreckage.

"They broke the altar," he says flatly. "They broke the actual altar. In a house of worship. On their wedding day."

"We broke the altar!" Wreck crows triumphantly, still thrusting. "Add it to the list!"