---- and pedestrians were passing by! Didn't he care about being seen? Aaron grabbed her hand, opened the passenger door, and helped her in. "Kissing my wife isn't illegal." After closing the door, he leaned over from the driver's seat, cupped her face, and kissed her fully, exploring her lips with patient precision. Their breaths mingled, tongues teasing, and the car quickly grew unbearably hot. Aaron marveled at himself. It had only been hours since morning, yet every nerve, every cell, was craving her. His restless heart finally felt anchored. When his hands wandered a little too boldly, Clara tilted her head, pinched his waist, and leaned back, gasping, "Let's wait until we get home... Someone might see us!" Aaron grinned, satisfied. "You said it-no backing out." Clara groaned inwardly. She had never been a ---- fan of "exercise," yet since staying at the villa, they had indulged every night. Mornings were a struggle, and she had nearly been late to work several times. Now she barely walked to work at all, yet her abs and thighs had never been firmer. For the sake of their health, Clara-being a doctor-had drafted a strict "schedule," forcing Aaron to sign: three sex-free days per week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday), and allowed days (Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday) capped at three sessions per week-medical advice, she claimed. And today was only Monday. Clara massaged her forehead. First day, and the entire schedule's about to be blown to pieces. Back home, Clara had just changed her shoes at the entryway when Aaron scooped her up and carried her upstairs. Seeing there was no escaping tonight, Clara looped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his throat, whispering warm breaths into ---- his ear, and lightly nibbling his lobe. Aaron's hands slipped slightly-he nearly set her down mid-stairs. Once in the bedroom, he immediately removed her coat, gripped her waist, and enthusiastically reciprocated her rare initiative. Soon, they were lost in a chaotic rhythm, breaths intermingling, moans echoing across the room. Time became meaningless. Clara's breathing gradually steadied, though her legs still trembled. Having a physically capable husband was undeniably... exhilarating. But exhausting. Dazed, Aaron helped her into the bathtub. Warm water enveloped her like a soft, luxurious blanket. The tub's automatic massage jets worked miracles, kneading her back, waist, and neck with perfect pressure. Clara lounged like a lazy cat, too relaxed to even open her eyes. ---- Until a second body squeezed in, splashing water everywhere. Clara's eyes snapped open. "Aaron?!" "The designer said this tub is perfect for two," Aaron said with mock seriousness. Clara's face burned. Rolling her eyes, she teased, "That designer wouldn't happen to be you, would it?" Aaron looked down at her. The heat of the water-or maybe her embarrassment-made her skin flush, highlighting every curve under the shimmering bathlight. Her neck wound had healed into fresh, red tissue. Not ugly, but prominent-a constant reminder. Aaron asked softly, "When are you going to get that scar removed?" Clara touched it lightly. "Does it look that bad? I'm thinking after New Year." Aaron lowered his head and kissed her deeply, seriously...