The Transmigrated Maid Hates the Insatiable Count

Inside an antique study thick with the passage of time, a beautiful young man sat in a wide mahogany desk chair placed before a large window.

He was Adrian Conte, the count who ruled over this vast and fertile domain.

His advisor, whose hair was dotted with white, stood about three steps away from the young count and was reporting on the year’s territorial affairs.

“…So I believe it would be good to use the remaining budget to build a bridge connecting to the northwest. The number of merchants passing through each year is increasing, but the roads are poor and travel is difficult, so…”

“Ugh!”

“Hm?”

From somewhere came the sound of a woman’s choked gasp. The middle-aged advisor, who had been speaking while looking at his report, was startled and fell silent. He unconsciously scanned the study, filled with books, paintings, and antiques.

Could there be someone else here besides himself and the count? When he had entered earlier, he had seen no one other than the count. Surely it couldn’t be an assassin?

The advisor, alarmed by his own thoughts, looked as if he was about to call for a guard.

“What’s wrong?”

Adrian stopped writing and looked at the advisor. His half-tied golden hair swayed gently at his shoulders. The advisor gazed at his young master, who was far more striking than any lavishly adorned beauty, then shook his head.

Since the count, who had keener hearing than himself, remained motionless, it must have been nothing.

“No, my apologies. I must have misheard the sound of the wind from outside.”

Adding that his ears must be failing him with age, the advisor apologized for breaking the flow.

The previous Count Conte had been handsome but notorious for his terrible temper. If it had been him sitting here, the advisor would have been subjected to every insult imaginable.

The advisor thought it was truly fortunate that the current count had inherited only his father’s looks and not his foul disposition.

“It’s fine. These things happen.”

Adrian generously forgave the advisor, who was old enough to be his father.

He rested his chin on one hand and kept the other beneath the desk.

Without so much as a waver in his breathing, Adrian gently stroked the soft black hair of the maid who was fervently sucking his c**k beneath the table.

The slick, wet sensation inside her mouth was so vivid that even the advisor’s gruff voice and the tedious report sounded pleasant to him.

‘Please, just hurry up and come!’

Diana, kneeling beneath the desk, on the other hand, felt like she was going insane.

Adrian’s c**k, filling her mouth entirely, was too much to hold. Even before e******n, the man’s thing was horrifically large. It had been torture from the moment she took it into her mouth, and as the c**k, its veins bulging menacingly, grew bigger, it reached all the way to her uvula.

Still, she sucked diligently, believing his promise that he would let her go once he came just once. But in the middle of it, the advisor had walked in.

Contrary to her expectation that he would leave soon, he stood there and reported for a very long time.

Diana nearly retched, even though she knew someone was there.

She desperately wanted to make him e*******e right then and there, but it was no use.

“Oh, by the way… where was I?”

The advisor, as if forgetting how far he had gotten, scanned his papers.

“You were saying that the number of merchants increases each year.”

“Ah, thank you. Yes. As the number of merchants grows annually, building a bridge there would allow us to collect tolls. I estimate that within seven or eight years, the entire cost will be…”

“Ugh!”

At last, Adrian shoved Diana’s small head deep between his legs. With his gentle expression and composed posture, no one would ever guess he was receiving a lewd fellatio underneath.

‘Stop pushing it in!’

Adrian’s c**k pressed against Diana’s uvula and forced its way down her throat. Her jaw felt like it would dislocate from being forced open so wide.

She had been barely breathing through her nostrils, but it wasn’t enough. She was appalled at the thought that it was going to go even deeper.