Page 112 of Breaking the Pucking Rules
Never in my life have I disrespected someone I admire and look up to like I am right now.
Shame burns through me, but it’s not as hot as the desire.
That’ll come later.
I’m going to fucking drown in it.
But right now, I need her, and I’ll allow myself to indulge one final time.
Tightening my grip on her hair, I pull her body up so her back is pressed to my front.
My other hand slides down her stomach until my fingers hit her clit.
“Oh god. Kodie. Yes.” Her head falls back against my shoulder as I keep fucking her.
“Come for me, Casey,” I groan in her ear, barely holding back.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chants as I pinch her clit and send her crashing over the edge.
Her pussy grips me in a tight hold as her orgasm takes her, and I can’t hold mine back any longer.
“Fuuuuck,” I groan as my movement falters and I allow myself to be swallowed whole.
Fire shoots through my veins as I unload.
It’s fucking insane. But long before I finish, I already regret it.
Because I know I’m never going to experience it again.
No other woman is ever going to stand up to Casey.
No one.
Releasing her, I let her crash to the bed as I suck in greedy lungfuls of air and climb to my feet.
I’m pulling the rubber from my softening cock as I stalk to the bathroom.
I don’t look back to see her. I can’t. She’s going to look beautifully fucked; her chest will be heaving as she tries to catch her breath, and her skin will be glistening.
If I see it, I’ll want another round.
But this isn’t about what I want.
It’s about doing the right thing. Finally.
I pause when I’m in the bathroom doorway and close my eyes, summoning the courage to do what I need to do.
Blowing out a long breath, I find the words that need to be said.
“You have five minutes to grab your shit and get out.” My voice is rough and cold, and I fucking hate it. But I don’t know what else to do.
Not a second later, I slam the bathroom door, flinching at the loudness.
For the longest time, I stand there in the middle of the bathroom, talking myself down from going back out there, apologizing, and telling her what I really want.
But I don’t.
Instead, I wait, listening to her movement before eventually, the hotel room door is opened. The second it falls closed behind her, I stumble forward, catching myself on the counter.
