First switch

Chapter 20 Marcus’s POV I stood in the darkened hallway, listening to the soft click of Derek’s bedroom door closing. My heart was still racing from the angry, possessive s*x we’d just shared. My body hummed with satisfaction, but my mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. I slipped back into my own room, the guest room that now felt more like home than any place I’d lived before, and sat on the edge of the bed. The sheets still smelled faintly of the laundry detergent Derek’s mother used. Her scent. The woman who had given me a second chance at stability. The woman I was betraying in the worst possible way. Guilt clawed at my chest, sharp and unrelenting. What the hell was I doing? I had come into this family intending to be the steady partner she deserved. After my failed marriage, the years of loneliness, the way I had hidden parts of myself for so long she represented peace. Normalcy. A future without secrets. Then Derek happened. From the first moment I saw him, quiet, intelligent, guarded, something had shifted inside me. That night weeks ago when we were alone… the tension had snapped. One touch led to another, and I had crossed a line I could never uncross. Now I was obsessed. Completely, dangerously obsessed. I ran a hand through my hair, remembering the way he had moaned my name tonight. The way he had begged. The way his body clenched around me like it was made for me. “Stepfather,” he had gasped while I f****d him. The word sent a dark thrill through me even now. I was supposed to be an adult. The responsible one. Instead, I was sneaking around like a teenager, risking everything for stolen moments with my fiancée’s son. The guilt was crushing. Every time she smiled at me, trusting and happy, it felt like a knife twisting deeper. She deserved better. Derek deserved better. But I couldn’t stop. The obsession had taken root too deep. I craved the way he looked at me, conflicted, hungry, ashamed. I loved breaking through his walls, watching the shy, bookish boy fall apart under my hands. The power dynamic, the taboo, the risk of getting caught… it all fed something primal in me I hadn’t known existed. I stood and paced the small room. Moving in had made everything more intense. Having him under the same roof every day, sleeping just down the hall, was both heaven and torture. I found myself listening to his movements, waiting for moments when his mother was distracted or asleep. The stolen touches during dinner. The risky bathroom encounter. The angry s*x after his pathetic attempt at a normal date with that girl Sophie. Jealousy had burned hot tonight. The thought of someone else touching him, even innocently, made me want to mark him. Claim him. Remind him exactly who he belonged to. I sat back down, elbows on my knees. This wasn’t just lust anymore. I cared about him. Deeply. The way he overthought everything, his intelligence, his quiet strength, it drew me in as much as his body did. I wanted to protect him, even while I was the one destroying his peace. But the guilt… God, the guilt. I thought about her sleeping peacefully down the hall. The woman who had welcomed me into her life with open arms. If she ever found out, it would destroy her. Destroy all of us. Derek would never forgive himself. I wasn’t sure I could forgive myself. Yet when I closed my eyes, all I saw was Derek flushed, moaning, taking me so perfectly. Whispering that he belonged to me. I was in too deep. Tomorrow would bring another day of pretending. Smiling at her over breakfast while secretly counting the hours until I could have her son again. The obsession was consuming me, and the guilt was its constant shadow. I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Part of me wished I had the strength to end this. Another, stronger part knew I wouldn’t. Couldn’t. Derek was mine now. And I was terrified of what that truth would eventually cost all of us.