Page 102 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son

“Do it again,” he orders.

I move out, until my cock is almost out, then I slide into him again.

“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Like that.”

I do it again.

And again.

I’m thrusting, I’m having sex, and Dmitri is moaning beneath me. His muscles writhe below me. Even with his back turned he’s the most beautiful person in the world.

Happiness darts through me, and I forget all the sadness. The world only consists of me and Dmitri and the pants and moans and incredible tension squeezing my cock.

Then Dmitri squeezes around me, and I explode. My body flails, and a few moments after, Dmitri’s body pulses in such a manner that I’m pretty sure that he’s exploding too. Dmitri collapses onto the mattress, taking me down with him, then he wriggles away.

“Is wet. Very, very wet.”

I kiss the back of his neck. “I guess I should, um, move.”

“Do you think they’ll believe we’re married if we show up joined together in the immigration office tomorrow?”

I give a weak laugh. “Now, I really don’t want to pull out.”

“You liked being inside me?”

“Was pretty amazing.”

He nods in the direction of his pillow. “Is why I wanted you to have the experience.” He hesitates. “I wanted to feel you inside me.”

I swallow hard.

My cock is spent, shrinking inside my condom. It looks indecent.

I grab the condom edge and make sure it’s tight around my not-so-very-thick-anymore cock and pull out.

Dmitri groans.

“Did it hurt you?”

He springs around, and his eyes glitter. “I miss you already.”

“Maybe you’ll get to stay,” I say.

He nods, but I have the vague sense he’s saying that to comfort me. God, they’re going to send him away. We just got together, and he’s going to be sent to the other side of the world and not even be allowed to enter this country.

He watches me and extends his arm out.

I tumble into at once, then curl around his chest and legs, my heart thumping wildly. I wrap myself around him as tightly as I can, so I feel each breath he inhales and exhales, like he’s my raft in the middle of the ocean, and I’m floating on him.

His arm shifts, then his hand moves to my head. He plays with my locks.

“We should think about nicer things,” he says.

“Any suggestions?”

“Hmm...” His grin turns wicked. “Like what position I should fuck you in?”

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE