There’s something so intoxicating about the way my husband’s hands trace my body, teasing every inch of me until I’m trembling. Tonight, I’m craving the way he pins me down and fills me so deep I can’t think straight. The way he growls in my ear, the way his cock stretches me open—god, I need it. But what I love most is the afterglow, when he’s still inside me, whispering how much he adores me. It’s the perfect mix of raw desire and tender love, and I’m addicted.