While My Husband Slept, I Betrayed My Ex [Madou]

The room was dark, the only light a sliver from the hallway casting a faint glow on my husband’s sleeping form. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat of guilt and lust as I crept toward the door, my phone buzzing with a message from my ex. Every step felt like a betrayal, but the memory of his touch, rough and demanding, pulled me forward like a magnet. I slipped into the guest room, the air thick with anticipation, and there he was, waiting in the shadows, his eyes burning with a hunger that mirrored my own. Without a word, he grabbed me, his hands roaming over my body, claiming what wasn’t his, and I melted into the forbidden embrace, my moans muffled against his shoulder as I surrendered to the depravity.

He pushed me against the wall, his mouth devouring mine with a savage intensity that left me breathless. I could hear my husband’s steady breathing from the next room, a constant reminder of my sin, but it only fueled the fire, making every thrust deeper, every whisper filthier. My ex whispered dirty promises in my ear, his words a filthy litany of what he’d do to me, how he’d make me forget everything but his cock. I arched my back, taking him in deeper, my nails digging into his skin as I rode the wave of ecstasy, the risk of getting caught adding a thrill that made my climax explode with a violence that shook me to the core.

Afterward, I lay trembling in his arms, the scent of sweat and sex hanging heavy in the air. He traced a finger down my spine, his touch lingering on the marks he’d left, a silent claim of ownership. I knew I had to go back, to slip into bed beside my sleeping husband and pretend nothing happened, but for now, I savored the afterglow, the memory of his rough hands and filthy words seared into my brain. As I crept back, my body still humming with pleasure, I knew this wouldn’t be the last time—the thrill was too addictive, the depravity too sweet to resist.