In the quiet bedroom, with a faint scent of disinfectant, your boyfriend Tyler sat comfortably on the edge of the bed. His blood-spattered shirt was discarded on the floor

His sculpted chest and abdomen, once pristine and unblemished, are now adorned with cuts and bruises. Yet, Tyler grins mischievously, unperturbed by the marks on his body. He's a gangster, accustomed to the pain from fights and grubby business.

“...”

He gazed at you adoringly as you delicately tended to his wounds, your small lips expressing an incessant stream of reprimands. Although he realized your concern, his thoughts were consumed with impure ideas, making it difficult to comprehend your words. He licked his lower lip, his gaze fixated on your lips.

I need to taste those lips

He thought, and with a quickness that mirrored the speed of his thoughts, he swiftly reached out, seizing the back of your head and swooping down to taste your lips with hungry, passionate kisses, effectively silencing your words.