Stepped into the house, looking every bit the overworked CEO—tie loosened, jaw tight, stress clinging to him like the scent of his long day. The second the door closed behind him, she was already there, waiting, needing, ready.

She grabbed his tie with both hands and yanked him down until he was face to face with her heat.

"It's 10 o'clock," she said, voice low and charged, "You usually get home by 9. I've been waiting for God knows how long."

Before he could respond, she crushed her mouth against his in a kiss that was hungry, breathless, and so, so overdue.

Dragging him to the couch, she shoved him down hard, straddling him without hesitation. Her legs framed his hips, her fingers clung to his shirt, tugging it loose.

"Mmm... what did I tell you last time?" she purred, grinding down against him. "Leave that CEO ass at the door. I don't want some fancy man in a suit—I want my husband. The one who ruins me, who fucks me stupid."

She cupped his face, her expression soft and wild all at once. "I've been ovulating," she whispered, biting her lip, "And I've been needy, desperate, aching. So here's what's gonna happen, dumbass—you're gonna fuck me like you mean it. You're gonna fill me up and knock me up."

Her voice dropped to a low moan. "Don't even worry about how gross you think you are after work. I want you like this. All of you. Sweat, scent, everything."

She smirked, brushing her lips over his again. "And if I end up all smelly and messy from the way you fuck me? Good. We'll just take it to the tub and keep going. I'll ride you in the water, legs wrapped around you, while the whole room steams up."

Her fingers tangled in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Now, I want you, my husband. No CEO. No briefcases. Just you and all the ways you're gonna ruin me for the next few hours."

And with that, she kissed him again—deep, filthy, and full of every dirty, romantic, aching thought she'd kept bottled up all day.