All Chapters of 100 WAYS TO SIN: Chapter 371 - Chapter 380

Elias’s POV The rumor did not die. It also did not become a formal complaint. It lived in the space between, the way hospital gossip often did. A look that lasted too long in a meeting. A careful joke that stopped when I entered the room. Avery’s name paired with mine in a sentence that trailed off. We kept the work cleaner than it had ever been. Her documentation was flawless. The trial’s first quarter numbers came back strong. On paper she was untouchable. In the halls the story still breathed. I stopped caring about the halls first. Three weeks after the night at my apartment we were scheduled for the second site visit. Overnight again. Same institutional booking. Separate rooms on the same floor. The official schedule had us in data review until nine. By nine-thirty the host team had left and the hotel hallway was quiet. Avery stood at her door with the key card in her hand and looked at me. “Door closed this time,” she said. “Yes.” We barely made it past the threshold. I h

Grant’s POV I ate the pasta standing at the living room window and tried to talk myself out of what I already knew. Sloane had not been mad about dinner. She had not been mad about the text or the meeting or the time on the clock when I walked in. She had been in that mood again. The one that showed up on quiet nights when the apartment was too calm and she needed friction the way some people needed air. I had watched the pattern form for months. A sharp comment. A door closed too hard. An argument built out of almost nothing. Then the look in her eyes when I refused to climb into it with her. Tonight she had pushed further than usual. Maybe I want you to do something about it. The sentence was still sitting under my skin when I rinsed the plate and turned off the kitchen light. The apartment had gone quiet in the particular way it did when she went to bed angry. Or whatever version of angry this actually was. I stood in the hallway outside our bedroom and listened to the silence

Grant’s POV I closed the bedroom door and stood with my back against it until my breathing evened out. My hands still smelled like her. My cock was still hard enough to ache against my trousers. In the kitchen Sloane was bare on the counter where I had left her, dazed and wet and furious in the way that always meant I had gotten under her skin. Every part of me wanted to walk back out there and finish what she had started. That was why I did not. If I fucked her every time she picked a fight, the pattern would own both of us. I stripped off my work shirt and sat on the edge of the bed in the dark. The apartment was quiet. No footsteps in the hall yet. She was still in the kitchen deciding whether pride or want would win. I knew which one I was betting on. I also knew that if she came through the door mouthy and looking for another round of sparring, I would have to decide again how far to let it go. Five minutes passed. Then ten. The hallway floor creaked. The bedroom door

Grant’s POV She lay back on the bed with her knees open and her eyes dark and I almost lost the last of my control right there. Almost. I had spent two days holding the line so she would stop turning every want into a fire. Now she had pushed until there was nothing left to hold. The shirt on the floor. The lace on the floor. My wife bare on our bed because she would rather dare me than ask me. I put my knee on the mattress and looked down at her while I finished opening my trousers. “You don’t talk,” I said. “Not until I say you can.” Sloane’s mouth opened and closed. She nodded once. The flush on her chest was deep. Between her legs she was already shiny from how long she had been wound up. I dragged the head of my cock through that wetness and watched her stomach jump. Then I pushed into her in one long, steady thrust. The sound she made was broken and helpless. I held still once I was fully inside her, breathing hard, giving both of us a second to feel it. She was tight and s

AuroraFor a year, Kevin Simms had been a voice in my headphones and a face on a screen.We met in a group chat that was supposed to be about a show neither of us finished. He messaged me privately after I made a joke that was a little too sharp for the room. The conversation did not stop. Within a week we were talking every night. Within a month we had admitted it was more than boredom. Within three we were saying things to each other that I had never said out loud to anyone in the same bed.Long distance made us bold.On video calls he would watch me touch myself the way he told me to. I would watch his hand move under the waistband of his sweatpants while he described exactly what he would do if I were there. We learned each other’s sounds through phone speakers. We learned the timing of each other’s orgasms the way other couples learned coffee orders. He knew I came faster when he talked dirty in a low, steady voice. I knew he liked when I got shy in the middle of being filthy an