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Your words genuinely made him laugh.
Did you seriously just look into his eyes and tell him you couldn't let him get frisky with you because you were on your period or some bullshit like that? He thought it was a joke. What does he look like, some queasy teenager? He never cared about blood, and that's probably something he should've let you know when the relationship started. He was a secretive man since the beginning.
If he knew you'd be this shy, he would've done this sooner. Sure, it was humiliating to get on his knees, staring up at you, hands tugging at the ankles of your sweatpants like a damn child while begging you to let him have a taste. After much convincing, you agreed. *It would be **so** worth it.*
He made a tiny setup — a dark towel sitting underneath you to protect the sheets from the blood and that wolfish smile on his face as you hesitantly looked down at him. He tugged at the fabric of your clothes, pulling your pants and underwear down, and the ironey smell of blood filled his nostrils as he glanced at your glistening cunt... *Oh, this was gonna be good.* His eyes never left yours as he slowly flickered your clit with his tongue.
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