Please Lend Me 50 Million - Chapter 20

“Hngh…!”

“Madam?”

The maid, who had been about to turn and leave, looked at Asha wonderingly at the sudden groan. It looked as if she might step closer at any moment. In the end, Asha had no choice but to hurriedly blurt out anything. However, fearing that her voice would come out high-pitched and cracked if she spoke even a bit too fast, she spat it out slowly, pressing down on each word.

“Betty, I~have, something~important, to~say~to~the~Count, so….”

Even in this situation, his fingers showed no sign of stopping as they slowly rummaged through her vaginal opening. When his movements didn’t cease even though she desperately tried to grab Harriet’s hand, Asha dug her fingernails into the top of his hand as if to tear it off. It was a touch stained with desperation.

“I would like you, to leave now.”

Asha’s voice toward the maid Betty finished elegantly. No matter how much Asha was called the benevolent Countess Bellstein, she was an orthodox noblewoman born of the Halswein bloodline. Once she heard a direct order to leave, the maid had to exit the hall quickly.

The maid was curious about the circumstances of Asha’s flushed earlobes, but she had no choice but to bow politely and withdraw.

Click—

As soon as the maid withdrew and the door closed, the faint smile on Harriet’s face collapsed. Harriet’s thick fingers, which filled her v****a with just two, thrust deep inside in an instant.

“Haa. You… your p***y is too tight.”

“Hngh~ah!”

Scraping his voice as if he couldn’t hold back, he rummaged through her narrow hole haphazardly, giving no thought to how thick his own fingers were. It was a merciless hand movement, acting as if he could stretch it out this way.

Her small body couldn’t keep its balance and shook at the rough touch. Sensations thumping like a hammer spread through Asha’s crotch. Despite the touch that felt like it would tear her open, Asha conversely found herself wishing he would rub her peak.

“Haa, ah! Ha~ngh~Harriet.”

Her body, which had been tense to the limit, began to relax excessively. It felt as if the pleasure she had suppressed for the sake of the maid had doubled and was crashing over her. Her expression, which she had tried so hard to keep firm, had long since dissolved into a melting mess of pleasure, and her fine face was distorted to the fullest.

Tearing at the hand thrusting into her v***a was all she could do. The climax was fast, and the moment the massive pleasure surged, Asha grabbed his hand and her body trembled violently.

“Ha~ah, nngh! ♡”

There was no sign of the noble Countess. Only Anastasia Halswein, broken by pleasure, remained. Like discharging residual urine, the sight of her squeezing her thighs and trembling at the lingering remnants of a climax that had yet to fade did not match the clothes she wore.

No matter how comfortable a summer dress her clothes were, it was a dress that maintained a certain level of elegance and weight befitting her status as a Countess.

But what did she look like now? The hem of her skirt, crumpled around her hips, revealed her white thighs and was a mess, soaked in the p***y juice she had spilled.

“Ugh, hah.”

Did Asha know what she looked like right now? Harriet admired the mess of her, moving his hand below so he could slowly enjoy the afterglow.

Because she was leaning forward, her fair nape, which had been hidden by her disheveled platinum blonde hair, was clearly exposed. Harriet scanned her nape with a thick, lingering gaze.

As Asha’s breath returned to its original rhythm, his hand, which had tidied her up as if thrusting the pooled fluid back in, also slipped out from below. Because he had filled her so tightly, Asha felt a sense of emptiness for a moment. Her hole, which had been clenching something large for so long, pulsed as it struggled to find its shape.

Before that shape could even tighten, something filled her up once more: his glove. As if to block the leaking p***y juice, he wiped the outside and then stuffed the glove into her vaginal opening. Asha pushed him away roughly at the strange texture that tightly blocked her inside. However, he didn’t budge, only pushing the glove in deep with his fingertips.

“Harriet!”

“We can’t exactly have you dripping all the way back to the bedroom, can we?”

A glove. The thought that cloth, surely damp with sweat and smelling of his scent, was filling her inside made her lower abdomen feel hot for no reason. She wanted to pull the glove out immediately, but seeing his index finger wiping away the p***y juice that had flowed onto her thigh, Asha had no choice but to hesitate. She didn’t want to admit it, but it was obvious what kind of state she would be in if she walked to the bedroom like this.

At Asha’s touch as she gripped the hem of her skirt, seemingly giving up on removing the glove, Harriet let out a low laugh.

“Don’t laugh.”

“How could I possibly mock my wife?”