Katsuki didn’t leave after that furious guest-room fuck. He stayed hidden in the penthouse all day, a shadow in the sprawling luxury home, slipping from room to room like a ghost while Kenji worked in his study and Izuku pretended to busy herself with calls. Every chance he got—when Kenji stepped out for a meeting, or napped on the couch—Katsuki dragged her into a closet, the laundry room, even the pantry, bending her over and pounding her tight pussy raw. “Quiet, slut,” he’d whisper, hand over her mouth as he thrust deep. “Your hubby’s right there—moan too loud and he’ll hear his loyal wife getting bred.” Izuku came every time, biting his palm, her walls clenching around his angry cock, guilt and lust choking her.

By evening, she was a trembling mess, sore and dripping, but forced a smile as she got ready for their anniversary dinner. In the master bedroom, she slipped into a slutty black dress—low-cut plunge showing off her massive tits, the fabric clinging to her juicy ass like a second skin, hem barely covering her thighs, red lace thong underneath. Sky-high heels, red lips, hair cascading—pure sex on legs.