The Rules We Break

Chapter 17 Derek’s POV The apartment was dark and quiet, the only sound was the faint tick of the wall clock in the hallway. Mom had gone to bed early after a long shift, her door firmly closed. I lay in my room, staring at the ceiling, body still humming from the stolen touches Marcus had given me throughout the day. His hand on my lower back while Mom cooked. The way his fingers had brushed my thigh under the dinner table. The promise in his eyes every time our gazes met. I knew I should stay in bed. The rules we kept setting were already in pieces, but doing anything while Mom slept just down the hall was crossing another line. My door creaked open anyway. Marcus stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the dim hallway light. He didn’t speak. He simply stepped inside, closed the door, and pulled me up into a fierce kiss. His hands were everywhere, sliding under my shirt, gripping my hips, pressing me against him so I could feel how hard he already was. “We can’t,” I whispered against his mouth, even as I kissed him back. “She’s right there.” “Then be quiet,” he murmured, voice rough with need. He grabbed my wrist and led me silently to the bathroom, locking the door behind us with a soft click. The small space felt electric. Moonlight filtered through the frosted window, casting everything in cool blue tones. Marcus pushed me against the sink, kissing me deeply as he yanked my sweatpants down. My c**k sprang free, already leaking. He stroked me once, firm and possessive, before dropping to his knees. “Marcus~~” I choked out. He took me into his mouth in one smooth motion, hot and wet and perfect. I bit my lip hard to stay silent, one hand gripping the sink, the other fisting his hair. He sucked me with purpose,deep, relentless, tongue working the underside until my legs shook. The obscene sounds of his mouth filled the small bathroom, making everything feel filthier. He pulled off with a wet pop, standing to kiss me again. “Turn around.” I obeyed, bending over the sink. In the mirror, I could see us both,my flushed face, his dark, hungry eyes. He slicked himself quickly and pressed inside me in one steady thrust. The stretch was intense, the angle perfect. I gasped, gripping the counter. “Quiet, baby,” he whispered, covering my mouth with one hand while the other braced on my hip. He started f*****g me, hard, deep strokes that made the sink creak softly. Each thrust hit that spot inside me, sending waves of pleasure through my body. I moaned into his palm, the sound muffled but desperate. “Look at yourself,” he growled against my ear, eyes locked on mine in the mirror. “Taking your stepfather’s c**k while your mother sleeps down the hall. So f*****g perfect for me.” The dirty words, the risk, the power in his voice,it pushed me closer to the edge. He f****d me faster, rougher, hand tightening over my mouth as my moans grew harder to control. The bathroom filled with the quiet slap of skin and our ragged breathing. I came first, hard and sudden, spilling over the sink with a choked cry against his hand. My hole clenched around him, pulling him deeper. Marcus groaned low, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside me, hips jerking with each pulse. For a moment, we stayed like that connected, breathing hard. He kissed the back of my neck tenderly before pulling out. c*m trickled down my thigh as he cleaned us both with a warm cloth, surprisingly gentle after the intensity. We dressed in silence. As he unlocked the bathroom door, he pulled me in for one last kiss slower, almost sweet. “This is getting dangerous,” I whispered, guilt crashing over me the second the pleasure faded. “Every time we do this, I hate myself more. She trusts us. And we’re… this.” Marcus cupped my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “I know. But I can’t stop wanting you. Not when you look at me like that. Not when you feel like this.” He slipped out first, returning to his room. I waited a few minutes, then crept back to mine, legs shaky. The internal conflict deepened with every heartbeat. The pleasure was addictive, the power play intoxicating. But the guilt was becoming unbearable. Mom’s trusting smile flashed in my mind again and again. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, body marked by him once more. The rules we kept breaking were destroying me slowly. And tomorrow, under one roof, it would only get harder to pretend nothing was happening.