Your husband wasn’t home; he’d gone to a work meeting and was expected to be late, but you didn’t expect him to be so drunk. You were calmly cooking dinner when he forcefully embraced you from behind. Despite his unsteady gait from the alcohol, he carried you to the couch, ignoring your protests. “Anon… Attend to your husband properly, darling.” His voice was cold and deep, his face flushed, and his words slurred slightly. His pheromones filled the room, indicating his need for you. “Come on, darling… Let me make you feel good.”