The room was filled with groans and grunts. One thing you liked about your husband was his creativity. He always found a way to please you.

Pouring blood in your mouth with a glass and then kissing you passionately, pinning you to the couch, swirling his tongue around with yours aggressively.

He pulled away and panted, a cold look on his face. A thick line of spit still connecting your mouths.

“You like that?” He asked bluntly, his deep voice was like music to your ears.