🔥 The Wedding Night 🔥

An Exclusive Bonus Scene from Big Stick Energy

Thank You for Reading! 💙

You made it to the bonus content—which means you’ve experienced Silas and Julian’s journey from that viral moment to their hard-won happily ever after. Thank you for giving their story a chance.

This exclusive scene takes place on their wedding night, one year after the events of the book. It contains explicit content and is intended for readers 18+ only.

The Wedding Night

Julian’s POV

The hotel suite was ridiculous.

Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Michigan. A bed the size of a small country. Champagne chilling in a silver bucket that probably cost more than Julian’s first apartment. Tommy had insisted on booking it—something about “you only get married once, you uptight perfectionist”—and Julian had been too busy finalizing seating charts to argue.

Now, standing in the doorway with his husband—his husband—Julian was grateful for Tommy’s meddling.

Because Silas Thorne-Mercer was backlit by Chicago’s skyline, still wearing his perfectly tailored tuxedo, and looking at Julian like he’d hung every star in that sky personally.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Julian said, loosening his bow tie.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m something precious.”

Silas crossed the room in three long strides, closing the distance between them. Even after a year together—a year of learning each other’s bodies, each other’s needs, each other’s hearts—the height difference still made Julian’s breath catch. Six-foot-seven of professional athlete, and he was Julian’s.

“You are precious,” Silas said softly. “You’re also my husband. I’m allowed to look.”

Julian reached up, curling his fingers around Silas’s tie. “Come here.”

Silas obeyed instantly, bending down so Julian could kiss him properly. A year hadn’t dulled this—the spark that ignited every time their lips met, the way Silas immediately softened under Julian’s touch, surrendering control like breathing.

“I have plans for tonight,” Julian murmured against his mouth.

Silas shivered. “What kind of plans?”

“The kind that require you to do exactly as I say.” Julian pulled back, meeting Silas’s eyes. They were already dark with want, pupils blown wide. “Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.”

The words went straight to Julian’s core. A year of hearing them, and they still had the power to undo him completely.

“Good boy.” He traced his thumb along Silas’s jaw. “Strip. Slowly. I want to watch.”

Silas’s hands were steady as he reached for his jacket buttons—they’d come so far from those early days when he could barely look at his own reflection. Julian watched as the tuxedo jacket slid off shoulders that could carry the weight of the world. The waistcoat followed. The crisp white shirt, button by button, revealing acres of warm skin and muscle that Julian had memorized with his hands and mouth and words.

“Pause.”

Silas froze, shirt hanging open, chest heaving slightly.

Julian circled him slowly, drinking in the sight. The gold wedding band catching the city lights. The flush spreading down Silas’s neck. The way his hands twitched at his sides, fighting the urge to cover himself—a battle he’d won months ago but still sometimes had to fight.

“Do you know what I thought, the first time I saw you?” Julian asked, trailing a finger down Silas’s spine.

“That I was a PR nightmare?”

Julian laughed softly. “That too. But also—” He pressed his palm flat against the small of Silas’s back, feeling the muscles jump under his touch. “I thought you were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. And that you had absolutely no idea.”

Silas made a small, broken sound.

“I thought about what it would take to make you see yourself the way I saw you. What it would take to make you understand that your size isn’t something to hide—it’s something to worship.” Julian moved around to face him again. “Continue.”

The shirt hit the floor. The trousers followed. Silas stood in nothing but black boxer briefs, and Julian could see the effect his words were having—the obvious strain against the fabric, the trembling in those massive thighs.

“Those too.”

Silas hooked his thumbs in the waistband and pushed them down, stepping out of them with the grace of an athlete. He was fully hard now, flushed and leaking, and Julian had to take a steadying breath.

“On the bed. Center. Hands above your head.”

Silas moved to comply, and Julian took his time following. He retrieved the silk ties he’d packed specifically for tonight—deep blue, the color of Silas’s eyes when he was desperate and wanting—and climbed onto the bed.

“Color?” he asked, running the silk through his fingers.

“Green.” Silas’s voice was already rough. “So green.”

Julian secured his wrists to the headboard with practiced efficiency—loose enough that Silas could escape if he needed to, tight enough to remind him who was in charge. When he finished, he sat back on his heels to admire his work.

His husband, spread out before him like an offering. Six-foot-seven of muscle and need, bound and waiting, completely at Julian’s mercy.

“You’re so good for me,” Julian breathed, finally beginning to undress himself. “So perfect. Do you have any idea what you look like right now?”

Silas’s hips jerked involuntarily. “Julian—”

“I’m going to take my time with you tonight.” Julian’s shirt joined Silas’s on the floor. “I’m going to touch every inch of you. I’m going to remind you exactly who you belong to.”

“Yours.” The word came out broken, reverent. “I’m yours.”

“That’s right.” Julian stripped off the rest of his clothes and crawled up the bed, positioning himself between Silas’s spread thighs. “Mine. My husband. My good boy.”

He started at Silas’s throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the column of his neck while his hands explored broad shoulders. He traced the lines of muscle, the dips and planes of a body built for power, narrating as he went.

“These shoulders,” he murmured against Silas’s collarbone. “Do you know how many times I’ve watched you on the ice and thought about pinning them down? About having all this strength underneath me, completely surrendered?”

Silas whimpered.

Julian worked his way down, lavishing attention on Silas’s chest. He circled one nipple with his tongue until Silas arched off the bed, then moved to the other, relentless.

“These pecs.” He bit down gently, soothing the sting with his tongue. “Built to intimidate. But you’re not intimidating now, are you? You’re soft for me. Open. Desperate.”

“Please—”

“Please what?”

“Touch me. Please, Julian, I need—”

“I am touching you.” Julian dragged his nails lightly down Silas’s ribcage, watching goosebumps rise in their wake. “I’m touching you exactly as much as I want to. You’ll come when I decide you’re ready. Not before.”

Silas groaned, his hips canting upward, seeking friction that Julian deliberately didn’t provide.

He continued his exploration—Silas’s abs, the cut of his hip bones, the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He kissed and licked and bit, leaving marks that would bloom purple by morning, claiming his husband in the most primal way possible.

By the time Julian finally wrapped his hand around Silas’s length, Silas was shaking.

“Look at you,” Julian breathed, stroking slowly. “So hard for me. So ready. You’ve been so patient, sweetheart. So good.”

“I want—” Silas’s voice cracked. “I want you inside me. Please. I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

Julian’s own control wavered. “All day?”

“Through the ceremony. The reception. Every time you looked at me with those eyes, I thought about tonight.” Silas met his gaze, open and honest and devastating. “I thought about you taking me apart. Putting me back together. Making me yours all over again.”

Julian surged up to kiss him, hungry and claiming. “You’re already mine,” he said against Silas’s lips. “You’ve been mine since the day you walked into my office and looked at me like I was the answer to a question you’d been asking your whole life.”

He reached for the bedside table, finding the supplies he’d placed there earlier. Silas watched with dark eyes as Julian slicked his fingers, then groaned when the first one pressed inside.

“Relax for me,” Julian murmured, working him open with practiced patience. “That’s it. You’re doing so well. Taking me so perfectly.”

One finger became two, then three. Julian found the spot that made Silas cry out and stroked it mercilessly, watching his husband fall apart in the most beautiful way possible.

“Julian, please, I can’t—I’m going to—”

“Not yet.” Julian withdrew his fingers, ignoring Silas’s desperate whine. “You don’t come until I say.”

He positioned himself at Silas’s entrance, pausing to meet his husband’s eyes. Even after a year, he still couldn’t believe this was his life. This beautiful, brave man who had let Julian see every vulnerable piece of himself. Who had learned to take up space, to accept praise, to believe he deserved to be loved.

“I love you,” Julian said softly.

Silas’s eyes glistened. “I love you too. Now please fuck me before I lose my mind.”

Julian laughed—and pushed inside.

The first thrust drew a moan from both of them. Julian set a relentless pace, driving deep, angling to hit that perfect spot with every stroke. Silas’s bound hands strained against the silk ties, his whole body arching to meet Julian’s movements.

“You feel incredible,” Julian gasped, gripping Silas’s hips hard enough to bruise. “So tight. So perfect. Made for me.”

“Yours,” Silas chanted, the word becoming a mantra. “Yours, yours, Julian, please, I need to come, please let me—”

Julian reached between them, wrapping his hand around Silas’s neglected length. “Come for me, sweetheart. Right now. Let me see you.”

Silas shattered.

His whole body convulsed, back bowing off the bed as he spilled over Julian’s fist with a cry that was half sob, half prayer. The sight of him—undone, overcome, completely surrendered—pulled Julian over the edge with him, pleasure crashing through him in waves.

They collapsed together, Julian carefully untying Silas’s wrists before gathering him close. For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. Julian pressed kisses to Silas’s damp forehead, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth, while Silas’s massive arms wrapped around him like Julian was something precious that might disappear.

“Hey,” Julian said finally, tilting Silas’s chin up. “You okay?”

Silas smiled—that soft, private smile that Julian had earned over months of patience and praise and love. “Better than okay. I’m… I’m happy.”

“Good.” Julian kissed him gently. “That’s all I ever wanted for you. For us.”

“You know what I was thinking during the ceremony?” Silas asked, pulling Julian closer so they were tangled together completely.

“That Tommy’s speech was too long?”

“Besides that.” Silas laughed softly. “I was thinking about that first press conference. When you grabbed my hand and everything changed.”

“I grabbed your hand to save both our careers.”

“You grabbed my hand and gave me permission to exist.” Silas pressed a kiss to Julian’s hair. “You taught me that I could take up space. That I deserved good things. That being seen wasn’t something to fear.”

Julian’s throat tightened. “Silas—”

“I know it started as a PR strategy. I know the rules said no catching feelings.” Silas’s arms tightened around him. “But I’m so fucking glad we broke every single one of them.”

Julian looked up at his husband—at this man who had started as a crisis and become his whole world—and smiled.

“Best rule I ever broke,” he agreed.

Outside the window, Chicago sparkled with a million lights. Inside the ridiculous hotel suite, two men who had found each other against all odds held on tight and didn’t let go.

Some hashtags were destined for greatness.

And Big Stick Energy? That was just the beginning of their forever.

~ THE END ~

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