Page 62 of Every Eligible Man

Nobility flee like their lives depend on it. Ambassadors cover their children's eyes and sprint for the exits. Baron Grimwald is carried out unconscious, his sons stumbling after him with matching looks of horror.

Within sixty seconds, the Great Hall is empty except for us, the animals, Mira (who is already drinking), and Father Bartholomew (who appears to be praying for death).

"You can leave too, Father," Slade says kindly.

"I can't feel my legs."

"That's trauma. It'll pass."

Ash lifts him gently off the altar and deposits him near the door. "Go. Drink something strong. Forget this ever happened."

Father Bartholomew staggers out, mumbling something about early retirement.

The door slams shut behind him.

And finally we're alone.

Well. Alone except for the animals.

"Rally positions!" Squeak commands.

The rats form a protective perimeter around the altar. Bastard guards the main door, hissing at anyone who approaches. Susan and Gerald stake out the windows, tiny ferret sentinels watching for intruders.

One-Eye takes the highest perch in the hall, a chandelier, ironically, and settles in with an expression of resigned acceptance.

"I'm not watching," he announces. "I'm providing aerial surveillance. There's a difference."

"Sure there is," Slade says.

"There's a difference."

I pull my three husbands toward me, fingers already working at their clothing.

"Enough talking. I've been thinking about this altar for days. I want…"

I don't get to finish the sentence.

Ash lifts me onto the altar properly, shoving my dress up to my waist. Slade appears behind me, hands working at my corset laces. Wreck climbs up from the side, already pantsless. When did he remove his pants?

"The ceremony was beautiful," Ash says, freeing his cock from his trousers, "but this is the part I've been waiting for."

He pushes inside me before I can respond.

I moan loud enough to echo off the rafters.

"Sacrilege," One-Eye mutters from above. "Complete and utter sacrilege."

"Beautiful sacrilege!" Nibbles counters. "The best sacrilege!"

Slade finally gets my corset off, and I'm bare from the waist up in a house of worship being fucked by one husband while two more prepare to join. My life has taken a turn. I'm not complaining.

"The altar's sturdy," Slade observes, testing it with his hand. "Good choice."

"I specifically asked for reinforced."

"Smart. Planning ahead."

Wreck is already positioning himself at my mouth, cock eager and ready.