With over one hundred guests in attendance at the ceremony, Epic and I were seated so far toward the back I spent more time people watching than listening to Luis and William make their vows.
The grooms looked spectacular in matching morning suits—black tailcoats and trousers, white vests, white butterfly-collar shirts, and red-and-gold ties—a nod to Luis’s family colors.
The wedding party echoed the color scheme. Luis’s mother wore a crimson gown, his father, a vest in gold with a red tie. The wedding party consisted of siblings and relatives, all of whom bore the dark-haired, olive-skinned beauty of Luis’s family or the almost fae-blond locks and pale eyes of William’s Norwegian forebears.
Epic and I made the long trek down an excruciating receiving line. I had to remind myself that some of these people were still my friends. His mother had liked me. His father had often counted on me as a partner when the family played bridge. Of course they greeted me graciously. They welcomed me like a long-lost relative.
We found our place cards at a table with a group of men and women I didn’t recognize, but I was used to gala fundraising events, and I knew how to ingratiate myself with people I didn’t know.
I had to shift every now and again to get relief from my silent companion. I’d actually never had the pleasure before. I’d certainly never considered wearing a butt plug outside the bedroom. Epic’s eyes tracked my each and every movement.
He hid a feral smile through the entire dinner.
* * *
After dining, the grooms danced with their mothers. Luis and William led their first dance with Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty waltz, which I thought was a pretty interesting choice. For one thing, it had a certain Disney-princess vibe, and for another, Tchaikovsky was kind of a reprobate and not because he was gay.
But whatever. It wasn’t my wedding after all.
I pulled Epic onto the dance floor.
“I need you to know something,” I told him.
“Yeah?” He’d had too much champagne and had taken to peopling with a vengeance.
“When we’re on the dance floor, I lead.”
“Fair enough.” He blushed sweetly. “You’d better. I know zip about dancing.”
“Come with me, dear boy, and all will be made clear.”
Oh God.
Nothing had prepared me for holding Epic close in formal wear. He moved stiffly at first. He didn’t trust himself not to step on my feet. He didn’t respond to the pressure I put on his hips to turn him or the way I subtly changed directions, but my mother had pretensions, and she’d enrolled me in cotillion during my first year in middle school. Since then, I’d found ballroom dancing to be an enjoyable—if slightly ridiculous—pastime.
“You’re really good at this.” Epic beamed at me. “I wish we’d thought of getting in some practice before the event.”
“I didn’t think this far ahead.”
“I didn’t think it’d be fun.” He’d relaxed enough to let me reel him out and pull him back with a tiny flourish. “Do you dance a lot?”
“If there’s dancing at a fundraiser or something. When I travel abroad, it’s considered a plus to be able to dance. Being gay, I’ve often taken the role of unattached male. I can’t count the number of wealthy donors—men and women—I’ve quickstepped around a dance floor.”
“It’s kind of a dying art, isn’t it?”
“People are learning again because of Dancing with The Stars. I’ve noticed a real uptick in younger men and women partner dancing at events like this.”
“My sort is better at grinding.”
“Don’t remind me.” I had never done anything at all with a butt plug seated in my ass. Dancing proved to be torture…and yet. The illicit thrill of it was reflected right there in Epic’s knowing gaze.
“Feeling okay?” he asked.
“I’m so turned on right now, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
“I’d like to stay until they cut the cake.”
“Of course you would.”
“And they probably have those little bubble bottles so we can wish the grooms bon voyage when they leave.”
I gasped with actual horror. “You can’t possibly be suggesting we stay that long.”
“I don’t know. It’s a lovely night.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy some of it in our room.”
“Is someone anxious to get back?”
“Maybe I should see if some of Luis’s aunties would like to dance.”
“Nuh-uh. You’re all mine, Ryan Winslow.” He tightened his grip on my shoulder. “Enjoy this moment. You only lead on the dance floor.”
I laughed. “Fair enough.”
I spent the rest of the evening teaching Epic how to follow my lead. When the DJ started, we threw off our jackets and reclaimed the floor to grind and tease each other until the cake was cut and the happy couple said their goodbyes.
I went to the bathroom to piss and splash some water on my hot face. Epic followed. He stood behind me at the sink, crowding me against the marble.
“How thirsty are you for my cock right now.”
“Jesus,” I managed, mouth suddenly dry.
He pressed against me, cock thick and hot in those tight suit pants. “Ready to go yet?”
“Beyond ready.”
“Then come on.” He bumped the air dryer with his elbow and held up my damp hands, rubbing them between his. “All done.”
I stared at his mouth. “Okay.”
He kissed my throat. “Do you need to say good night to anyone?”
“No.” I doubted anyone actually cared I was there, much less if I’d left. We got our jackets and said goodbye to the few people we'd talked to earlier.
Epic took my hand and led me back across the resort grounds. Here and there, guests chatted in small groups. They took advantage of the comfortable patio seating and the resort’s many fire pits to drink and reminisce and gaze at stars.
A few said hello, but I couldn’t say who they were.
The only thing on my mind at that moment was Epic and how he looked windblown and wild, jacket slung over one shoulder. His grip on my hand felt firm and sure. He didn’t need to read the many signs to know the way.
It was Epic who opened the door to our suite. Epic who ushered me inside like a man on a mission. He helped me out of my jacket and tie and slipped my shirt off my shoulders. While he worked on my clothing, I made my way into his. I toed off my shoes while he unbuckled my trousers, and then I was naked, aching with need built up over what seemed like days.
He pushed me into the bathroom and stood behind me again, eyes on mine in the mirror.
“What do you see?” he asked me.
“Us.”
“Mm.” He tapped on the butt plug. “Who is ‘us’?”
“You and me.”
“How do you feel, Ryan?”
“Needy.”
“You thirsty for my cock?” He wrapped his hand around my throat with just enough pressure to be noticeable but not enough to choke. “You want my cock in your ass?”
I shuddered all over. “I’m gasping for it.”
“Ask me.”
“Please, Epic. Give me your cock.”
His fingers slid between my ass cheeks and whatever he did with the plug sent a wave of pleasure through my body. “Ready for this to come out?”
“Only if you promise you'll fill me with your dick.” My knees buckled, and I gripped the sink to stay upright.
“Ready for me to fuck you?” he asked.
“Yes,” I begged. “Yes, please fuck me.”
I braced myself on the counter while foil rustled and lube slurped behind me, and then he pulled the plug out and pushed his cock inside me in one long, slow move.
“Ah God, Epic…” I gasped. “Oh God. Yes.”
“You like this?” he asked. “You like my fat cock in your ass, Ryan?”
“Yes.” I didn't take my eyes off his. "Yes, God. Yes. Harder."
I groaned with each heave of slick skin as he pumped inside me. I groaned with each brush of his cock against my sweet spot.
"Fuuuuuck," I whimpered. “Not gonna last.”
“Let go.” His breath ghosted over my ear. “I’ve got you.”
And he did. My God, each stroke struck like lightning inside me.
I opened my mouth to breathe and out came these helpless, guttural cries. I should have been ashamed to let them go. I should have been taking back some of the control he’d wrested from me all day. Instead, I jerked, and bucked, and twisted, and sobbed his name, and when I felt the first faint tumbling sensation of orgasm wash over me, I went limp and helpless in his arms.
“Yes, Epic,” I cried out. “Yes. God yes…”
We stiffened and came in a thunderclap of pleasure, and then I fell against him, and he fell to the floor.
“Oh, whoa.” He gathered me in his arms. “You okay, sweetheart?”
“Think so.” I lay with my back to his chest, my head on his shoulder, covered in sweat and jizz. “That go as planned?”
I felt him chuckle. “More or less, minus the free fall at the end.”
“Couldn’t hold my own there.”
“No worries.” He palmed my damp hair off my forehead and planted tiny kisses up and down my neck. “Bones intact?”
“I think so. Yours?”
“Can’t feel ’em.”
He slumped against the side of the tub and wrapped both arms around me.
“So that’s edging?” I said the words conversationally. He laughed against my back. “Good to know.”
“Let’s take a quick shower and lie down somewhere.”
“Somewhere?”
“Anywhere.” He hauled me to my feet and turned me to face him. “Christ, you’re beautiful.”
“Me?” I scoffed. He was the beauty. My bossy Adonis with his cuffs, and his plugs, and his unexpected tenderness.
“Yes, you." He towed me to the shower and turned the water on. "You’re gorgeous. You know this.”
I stood propped against the tile wall while he cleaned the plug carefully and wrapped it in a towel. “Come over here.”
“All right.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, and I put mine around his neck. We turned, sharing hot water and kisses until we were clean enough for bed.
* * *
Later, dry, warm, and impossibly relaxed, I slid between the sheets as Epic hung up our clothing. He brought me water to drink, then slid in beside me.
“You should definitely hydrate.”
“Okay.” I removed the cap from the bottle and took a couple big swigs.
“How do you feel?” Epic rolled to his side with his head propped on one hand, his exceptional blue gaze burrowing into my very soul.
“Like an empty suitcase.”
He brushed my hair behind my ear. “That good or bad?”
“So, so good.” I thought about it. “One kind of empty is when something is missing, but another kind is when you’re ready to be filled with something new.”
“Good to know.”
“Mm.” I pressed my cheek to his.
“What’s tomorrow?” he asked.
“Been thinking about that. Originally, I’d planned to stay until next weekend.”
Epic’s eyes widened. “I need to get back for work.”
“I figured. I would have driven you to St. Nacho’s then come back here. It’s not that far.”
His features clouded with disappointment. “That’d be okay.”
“Yeah, but I wonder…”
He stilled. “What?”
“What if I spent the rest of my vacation in St. Nacho’s? Think you’ll have some free time? We could hang out. Do whatever it is people do there.”
“Really?” He seemed pleased by my suggestion.
“If it’s something you’d like.”
Suddenly, I had armfuls of Epic—happy, kissy, giggly Epic. He smashed into me so enthusiastically that we accidentally slid off the bed.
“Are you kidding me?” I complained when I stopped laughing. “Old men are delicate, for God’s sake. You want to break something?”
“Sorry,” he gasped with laughter. “Really sorry. I swear to God.”
He stood and dragged me to my feet.
“This time,” he said, “maybe get in the middle instead of hugging the edge like a frightened virgin.”
Epic Alsop was the last person I’d expected to burst into my life, but he was also the person I’d needed at exactly the right time.
I did what he told me and got into the middle where he wrapped both arms around me. I laid my head on his chest.
He stroked my hair. “Night, Ryan.”
“Night, Epic.”
I fell asleep smiling.