Page 99 of Rule 3: Never Fake Marry the Coach's Son

“So...” he hesitates.

“Dmitri?”

“If you want, we could do it the other way.”

For a moment, well, more than one moment, I’m just frowning at him, bemused.

But then I get it.

I take the condom. “You want me to...”

He nods. “If you want. Only if you want.”

“But what if I’m not good at it? I might hurt you.”

“I play hockey, Oskar. I’m used to things hurting.”

“You’ll be inside me. That sounds pretty amazing. I have a lot of fun doing it the other way. I want you to experience it too.”

I stare at the condom. I didn’t think I would be entering Dmitri. He’s... Well, I just didn’t think it would happen.

“I want to see all of you,” I tell him.

“Is yours,” he says simply.

Shit.My pulse thunders.

Dmitri reaches down and pulls off his sweatpants. He flays his legs as he tries to kick off the rest. His ass is exposed, round and firm and muscular.

I run my hands over the firm muscles of his ass, exploring this new territory. The room feels twenty degrees warmer. When I spread him open, revealing that intimate place no one else has touched, my breath catches.

“Touch me,” he urges. “I want to feel you.”

I slick my fingers and circle his entrance, remembering how incredible it felt when he did this to me. When I press inside, he’s impossibly hot.

Somehow none of my fantasies were about this, but it’s amazing. I’m seeing Dmitri’s most hidden part of his body. I run my finger down his crease. He writhes below me, obviously not too dismayed by this action.

“Touch it,” he says. “I want your finger...there.”

I squirt some lube on my hand, then rub against the puckered rosebud, remembering how good it felt when he did the same to me.

Then I venture into his hole. “It’s hot.”

“That makes sense,” he says, amusement rippling in his voice. “I’m hot.”

I want him to be amused. I want him to be distracted.

Though ideally he’ll be distracted by the sensation of having a cock in his ass, and not by some spectacular failure. But my hand trembles slightly and he notices, turning to look at me.

“You nervous, baby?”

“You nervous, baby?”

I give a miserable nod.

He scoots up. Then takes the lube and condom.

Right.