President He Craves Me Every Night

My husband was infatuated with my body, but he didn't love me.

Every time Ryan was drunk, he seemed like a different person. He kissed me, engaged in gentle foreplay, making me mistakenly believe he loved me.

However, after experiencing the intense pleasure together, he would suddenly turn towards me with cruel sarcasm.

"Are you so desperate for it?"

"I touch you only because you're cleaner than those outside and it doesn't cost me anything."

……

My husband, Ryan, was handsome, wealthy, and physically fit, with a strong desire in that regard.

Almost every other day, we had sex.

My sex life may have looked good on the surface, but I couldn't truly enjoy it.

Because he didn't love me.

To be precise, he hated me, deeply.

He used to have sex with me, just as a means of fulfilling his physical needs, and it had nothing to do with love.

As he saw it, I was more sexually pure than other women, and he didn't have to spend a dime.

Every time I heard such words, it felt like a knife stabbing into my heart, yet I maintained a calm exterior.

He never kissed me, never even caressed me, and he just didn't engage in foreplay.

It was always a straightforward physical encounter.

I felt like a low-priced whore, yet I was helplessly drawn to his charm; every time, I was left in a blissful daze.

I was ashamed of my lack of self-control.

This became his reason to ridicule me every time.

"Sandra, are you that sexually starved? Knowing I don't like you, yet you still reach orgasm. Don't you have any shame?"

I instantly fell from the clouds into an icy abyss, covering my reddened eyes with my hands.

He coldly withdrew, disdainfully cleaned himself, and went to another room to rest.

I lay stiffly on the bed, my body cooling from the heat, often unable to sleep for a long time.