Emily had always been the perfect wife. Devoted, elegant, and graceful, she played her role flawlessly. But beneath the surface of domestic bliss, there was a hunger—a dark, insatiable craving that her husband, Mark, had never been able to satisfy. She had ignored it for years, pushing it down, convincing herself that fidelity was more important than desire. But the moment she met Jason, she knew her willpower was about to be tested in the most delicious way.

Jason was the complete opposite of Mark. Younger, rugged, with a cocky smirk that sent shivers down Emily’s spine. He was the contractor working on their home renovation, spending weeks in and out of the house. Every time he walked past, his scent—sweat, wood, and something purely masculine—made her thighs clench involuntarily. She caught him watching her, his eyes trailing over her body, igniting a fire inside her that she had long thought extinguished.

It started with lingering looks. Then, subtle touches—his fingers brushing hers when handing over blueprints, his strong hand resting just a second too long on the small of her back when he guided her around the site. Each interaction sent jolts of heat through her, and she found herself dressing differently—tighter tops, shorter skirts, anything to make Jason’s gaze linger a little longer.

One evening, after Mark had left for a business trip, Emily wandered downstairs to ‘check on the renovations.’ She found Jason alone in the half-finished kitchen, his shirt discarded, muscles glistening with sweat as he worked on the cabinets. He looked up, that wicked smirk playing on his lips.

“You checking on the house, or checking on me?” he teased.

Emily swallowed, her mouth dry. She should have walked away. She should have kept control. But when he stepped toward her, so close that she could feel his heat radiating off him, her restraint shattered.

She reached for him first, fingers threading through his messy hair, pulling his mouth to hers. The kiss was fire and desperation, all the repressed longing bursting free. Jason groaned against her lips, his hands roaming her body, pressing her against the counter as his fingers explored the curves hidden beneath her silk robe. She gasped when he lifted her onto the cold marble, parting her legs with his hips, his arousal pressing against her in a way that left no doubt about what was coming next.

“You’ve wanted this, haven’t you?” he murmured against her neck, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“Yes,” she breathed, arching against him, surrendering to the raw need that had been building between them.

Clothes disappeared in a frenzy, hands and mouths exploring, claiming, devouring. Jason’s touch was rough and demanding, a stark contrast to Mark’s careful, predictable love-making. He worshiped her body with a hunger that left her trembling, moaning, pleading for more. And when he finally took her, hard and deep on that very counter where she had once prepared dinner for her husband, she knew there was no turning back.

As dawn broke, Emily lay tangled in Jason’s arms, skin still slick with sweat, body deliciously sore. Guilt lingered at the edges of her consciousness, but it was drowned out by the satisfaction humming through her veins. She had finally given in to her forbidden craving, and there was no denying the truth—once wouldn’t be enough.