Rule #3: Never Fake Marry the Coach’s Son (Hockey Rules #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

O skar

This is not happening. Obviously. There’s absolutely no way I’m in bed with Dmitri Volkov, NHL star and certified F-boy, doing things that happen in x-rated fantasies.

My heart flings itself into an advanced gymnastics routine because somehow, this is actually happening. Dmitri is my favorite person in the world. I was content being his friend, happy merely knowing that he existed.

But now all his focus is on me.

His dark eyes are intent, his hands sure and confident on my body.

I grip the sheets and try not to combust on the spot. His talented mouth is doing incredible things, and I’m trying desperately not to embarrass myself by coming in two seconds flat. His hands roam my body like he doesn’t even notice I’m not his usual type. My frame is decidedly masculine, but he seems... enthusiastic?

God. My cock is in his mouth. His succulent lips are stretched around the most private section of my body. I feel his wet lips around my head and feel his tongue licking the sensitive underside of my cock.

He pulls back. “You’re thinking too hard.”

“You weren’t supposed to notice.”

“I always notice you.”

My heart stutters at his comment, and I tell myself this is enough. This night, if it’s all that ever happens between us, is enough. I push away the selfish part of me that tells me that I want this to matter to him too, that I want us to be together like people are together in nineties romcoms and books in certain sections of the bookstore, the way that my parents are together.

This isn’t that.

But it’s fine.

It’s more than fine.

Then Dmitri does some sort of sucking motion with his lips, and my heart throttles forward, slamming against my ribs.

“I’m going to...” I swallow hard, unsure what the etiquette is.

“Just relax. Let it happen.”

His eyes are soft and tender, and his lips move into a smile. Then his lips swerve into a smirk, and he pulls me toward him. I guess I’m super light, and he’s definitely super strong, because in the next moment he’s rearranged me so that my bottom is exposed. He sucks his index finger. I stare as he hollows his cheeks. He can’t intend...

But he does. He completely does.

He runs his finger against my crease.

“Dmitri...”

“Asses are a big part of man-on-man love, Oskar.”

I giggle. “Good thing I have you to tell me that.”

He nods in a pleased manner.

“But I don’t think...” I inhale. “This is already...”

He grins. “Already a lot for you? Don’t worry, we spread out education. I don’t want your brain to explode.”

“My brain wouldn’t—”

He raises an eyebrow, then moves his finger against my hole. Yeah, he’s right. Maybe my brain would explode. Because even though I know this is a big part of sex... Somehow, I didn’t think it would feel so good. The times I kissed guys who weren’t Dmitri didn’t feel so amazing, and I sort of always put sex into a box that some people are crazy about and others less enthusiastic about. Like cars. Some people care about it a huge deal, and others don’t. And either way is fine.

But this feels amazing. Dmitri’s grin widens, and he moves his finger into me.

First a knuckle.

Then another knuckle.

Then a third knuckle.

My heart expands.

“Next time, I’ll be putting my cock into you,” Dmitri promises.

My heart patters.

“Or...” He glances at my cock which has turned some sort of purple color. “Maybe you’ll be putting your humongous equipment inside me.”

My eyes must widen, because he grins. He moves his finger, and all the cells in that area explode with something that feels exactly like joy.

“Dmitri...”

He bends down, his eyes on my cock. He licks it, then puts the head back into his mouth, and I...

Well, I explode.

Obviously.