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

CHAPTER THIRTY

D mitri

Oskar’s beautiful eyes flutter, and his beautiful lips part, and his beautiful neck arches. His release spills over his stomach, and he collapses onto the bed. He’s so fucking adorable I can barely stand it.

He reaches for me, but I can already see his exhaustion.

That was his first sexual encounter.

I was there.

I was present.

“No, baby,” I say, the endearment slipping out naturally.

“You need to...” He makes another grabby motion toward my cock, which is still hard and throbbing.

“Want to touch it?”

His eyes go wide, and he nods eagerly. I straddle his hips and guide his hands. The way he touches me, like I’m worthy of his reverence, makes my heart ache.

“Is this your first one up close?”

He nods, and my chest expands even more. He moves again to touch it, but I know he’s sleepy. I know he’s shattered. This isn’t about reciprocation and checklists. I just want him happy.

“Lie back and watch,” I tell him.

He obeys instantly, those big blue eyes fixed on my cock like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

I wrap my hand around myself, already close. The sight of him spread out beneath me, flushed and satisfied, is more than enough. Pre-cum beads at the tip and I use it to slick my strokes, paying special attention to that sensitive spot under the head.

Then I’m painting Oskar’s chest, his neck, his face.

I’m claiming him. He’s mine.

His pretty pink tongue moves out from his pretty pink lips, and my cock pulses again, spent but still aching for him. Maybe I should have just stuck it in his mouth, but I wanted to be sure he would enjoy it. I want his first sexual experiences to be good. I need him to look back on this night with nothing but fondness.

He licks his lips again, eyes bright with satisfaction. He’s so fucking hot.

I fetch a warm washcloth from the bathroom, ignoring my discarded clothes. After cleaning him up, I kiss his forehead and pull him close. His whole body fits against mine like it was made to be there. I fall asleep grinning, and he’s still in my arms when I wake.

I catch the moment when his body stills before he tries to wiggle free.

“Where do you think you’re going, mister?” I tug him back against me, enjoying how easily he moves in my arms.

“You’re awake.” His voice comes out squeaky.

“Uh-huh.”

“I was going to leave before you woke up.”

“Oh, yeah? Ghosting me in my own bed? Pretty cruel, Oskar.”

He giggles. “No. I—”

We’ve somehow drifted to the very edge of the mattress, so I shift us back and turn him to face me. God, I love how compact he is, how perfectly he fits against me. His eyes go all soft and dewy when they meet mine, nostrils flaring slightly like they always do when he’s flustered. Has he always looked at me this way? How did I miss it? How did I not see how beautiful he is?

I drink in his delicate features, the adorable upturn of his nose, when his eyes go wide with horror. He claps both hands over his mouth and starts scrambling backward.

“Where are you going?” I demand.

“I didn’t brush my teeth last night!” His face flames red as he keeps his fingers pressed firmly over his lips.

“I exhausted you.”

His gaze darts to my mouth, then he bolts for the bathroom. “You should have told me!”

“You looked so comfortable.”

“My teeth have bacteria on them!”

“Your teeth always have bacteria on them.”

“They probably grew!” He scampers into the bathroom, as if he thinks I’ll be able to smell his mouth from the other side of the room.

I sigh and follow him. He’s already furiously scrubbing his teeth.

“I also have teeth.” I remove my toothbrush and put toothpaste on it.

“Oh.” The word comes out garbled, and I don’t suppress my laughter.

He sneers and brushes harder.

“Don’t remove your enamel,” I say.

Toothpaste foam drips down his chin. Even with his hair a wild mess and an orange toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, he’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen. How did I not realize this before?

“What?” He eyes me suspiciously around his toothbrush.

“I’m glad you’re my husband.”

“Oh.” His shoulders sink, then he ducks down, shields his mouth from view with his hand, and spits. He hastily cleans the sink with water.

“You can spit in front of me.”

He draws himself up like an offended aristocrat. “It’s inelegant.”

“We live together, Oskar,” I remind him, continuing to brush my teeth.

“Yes, but.”

“But?”

“You’re amazing.”

I poke the back of my throat with my toothbrush, and my eyes water. I start to cough, fling myself over the sink and spit, as Oskar descends into peals of giggles.

“Wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t followed me into the bathroom,” he says. “Just saying.”

I dab my mouth furiously and place my toothbrush back in the holder. “Well, if I hadn’t followed you inside, I couldn’t do this.”

“What?”

I stalk toward him, grinning as he backs up until he hits the towel rack. In one smooth motion, I lift him onto the counter and capture his lips with mine.

“Oooh,” he breathes against my mouth.

“Uh-huh. Dmitri knows best,” I say in my sternest voice.

He giggles, but then we’re kissing again, his arms wrapping around my neck as his legs circle my waist, pulling me closer.