100 DRIPPING DREAMS のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 211 - チャプター 220

Chapter 1Evander.I sat in the living room with only the single lamp burning near the bookshelf. The rest of the house stayed dark. I had been there since midnight. The clock on the mantel showed 3:51 when the front door finally eased open and closed again with care. Soft footsteps crossed the entry hall. Soren tried the same quiet approach he always used when he came in this late.I kept my voice even and did not rise from the chair.“You are three hours past the time we set.”He stopped just inside the doorway. His shirt hung open at the top buttons and his hair looked as if hands had been in it for hours. The smell of beer and something sweeter clung to him.“I lost track of time,” he said. “It was only a house party. Nothing major happened.”“That is the third time this month you have used those exact words.”He stepped farther in and set his keys on the side table with more force than necessary. “I am twenty one years old, Evander. I can stay out if I decide to.”“You can. You c

I Can Finally Have HimChapter 3Evander.I kept my hand on the belt that still lay across Soren’s chest and waited until he finished the first part of what he needed to say. His wrists stayed bound above his head. The earlier marks from the leather showed faint and warm on his skin.“Keep going,” I told him. “You said you wanted this for months. Tell me the rest without leaving pieces out.”Soren’s breath came uneven. “I wanted you to stop treating me like I was only a problem to manage. Every time I came home late I watched your face. I wanted to see if you would finally do something that matched the way you looked at me when you thought I was not paying attention.”“And what did you think that something would be.”“This. You taking control so I could stop pretending I did not want it.”I stood and pulled my sweater over my head, then the rest of my clothes. Soren’s eyes followed every movement. I climbed onto the bed and settled between his open thighs. My hands rested on the insid

Structure and CumChapter 1Vesper.The bass still thumped through the floorboards when I found Caelum by the kitchen island, half a joint burning between his fingers and a half empty bottle of whiskey at his elbow. The party had thinned out to the hardcore few who never knew when to leave. Someone in the living room was laughing too loud at nothing. I leaned against the counter next to him and took the joint without asking.“You look like shit,” Caelum said. His voice cut through the noise easily. “Been looking for you for twenty minutes.”I dragged deep and passed it back. “Needed air. Or less people. Same thing tonight.”He studied me the way he always did when the edibles started kicking, like he could see the numbers still spinning behind my eyes. “We need to talk about the deal.”I laughed once, short and ugly. “Here? With the music and the strangers and whatever the fuck that smell is?”“Upstairs. Guest room. Now.” He stubbed the joint out in a dirty glass. “Before you find ano

YOU WILL BE WITH NO WOMAN BUT ME.Chapter 1Orin.The morning light in the kitchen was soft and the air already warm. Isalla stood at the counter slicing fruit for the breakfast trays, her sleeves rolled neat, a small smear of juice on her wrist. She was the housekeeper for the summer, hired by Aunt Mirelle, and she moved through the rooms like she had always belonged here.Lysander came in first. He took a piece of melon from the board without asking and leaned against the counter near her.“You cut these thinner than last week,” he said.Isalla glanced up. “Your aunt said the children prefer it that way, soo I did just that.”He smiled, that lazy, easy one he used when he wanted to make someone keep talking to him. “And what do you prefer?”She shook her head once, but the corner of her mouth lifted. “I prefer not being asked questions before I’ve had coffee.”I walked in then. Isalla’s eyes met mine and she smiled a bit at me. She slid a mug toward me without being asked. Lysander

My BDSM SubChapter 1Xavier King.The city lights stretched out beyond the glass walls of my office like a map of everything I already owned. Another endless day of board calls and soft men who thought money made them equals. My shoulders ached with the kind of tension that only one thing ever fixed, and I had been without that fix for a full month. The emptiness left me more on the edge than usual. Meaner.I pressed the intercom for my secretary. “Sorin, get me my coffee now. Black. Single origin Ethiopian. No sugar. One hundred eighty degrees. Exactly.”Her voice came back thin. “Right away, Mr. King.”Five minutes later the door opened. She set the cup on my desk with that careful smile she always wore when she knew she had already failed. I lifted the cup. She had indeed failed. The coffee was too warm instead of scorching hot. The aroma was wrong. Rubbish.I stood with force and the chair scraped. “This is not what I ordered for.”“I...I…I…Sir, the machine was...”I hurled the c