The Transmigrated Maid Hates the Insatiable Count

“Ha, damn it!”

She tried to brush it off and ignore it, but the agonizing tease tortured Diana all the more. Unable to endure it any longer, Diana pulled up her skirt. She felt like she wouldn’t be able to catch a single wink of sleep unless she resolved this.

In case anyone might hear, Diana clamped her skirt between her teeth. Spreading her legs wide, the ice-cold night breeze swept past her heated thighs and drenched core.

In an instant, it felt as though she had been plunged from a hot bath straight into an ice-cold pool.

“Ugh!”

In her desperation, Diana shoved her own fingers inside her entrance. Her pretty, emerald eyes shook and widened completely.

She drove her fingers in and out rapidly, just as Adrian had done. Her inner walls squelched around her fingers, swallowing them whole, but whether it was because they were too thin or just a trick of her mind, it only fueled her thirst without delivering that trembling, soaring excitement from before.

Damn it all. Has this body already grown accustomed to Adrian’s rough touch and reckless behavior?

With her mouth shut tight and the corners of her eyes flushed, Diana moved her fingers furiously. Raising her speed until her shoulders felt like they would break, she barely managed to catch a shallow o****m. Her entrance clamped down tightly around her two fingers like a clam shell.

With her head thrown back, Diana’s vision flashed for a brief instant. Liquid poured from her entrance in a heavy stream, completely drenching her hand and the bedsheets.

“Haa, ah, ah.”

The skirt she was biting on tumbled down. Her face, neck, and back were dripping with sweat, looking as though she had just stepped out of the shower. It felt sticky and gross, but Diana was far too exhausted to care about anything. She barely managed to brush away the damp strands of hair clinging to her face.

Even if someone came to beat her to death, she lacked the strength to move a single muscle. Stripping off the clothes she was wearing and tossing them onto the floor, Diana fell asleep completely naked, using the blanket as her sleepwear.

She didn’t particularly enjoy dark, heavy romance novels, but she didn’t hate them either.

If something looked fun, she’d give it a read.

Then one day, right before bed, she stumbled upon and read a short 19+ novel that took about an hour to finish.

Because it was an ultra-short story, there wasn’t much of a memorable plot. It was simply about a handsome yet insane, perverted Count who confined and sexually abused the heroine after she arrived as a guest on his birthday.

Diana was merely a lowly maid in the household whom the male lead toyed with before meeting the heroine.

Still, perhaps thanks to the background setting of being from a ruined noble family, her atmosphere and face were pretty and attractive—making her the perfect target for the male lead, who was usually indifferent to others, to play with as his personal toy.

However, after the heroine appeared, Diana was turned into a completely forgotten extra.

She was a background character with so little importance that she only appeared at the very beginning, without even a single mention of what happened to her afterward. She had to be thankful that there was at least no mention of her dying a miserable death.

Whether the author didn’t bother including Diana’s whereabouts because there was no reason to, or simply forgot about her entirely, was anyone’s guess.

“Ugh… So bright.”

Sunlight pushing away the darkness filtered through the tiny holes in the curtains, breaking Diana’s sweet sleep. Even with her eyes closed, the world looked entirely orange due to the intense glare.

Diana whined in her sleep and covered her face with a pillow, but it was no use. The saddest part wasn’t the sunlight, but the grim reality that it was time to wake up.

“I’m getting up because this is just ridiculous.”

Rising with half-lidded eyes, Diana sat there blankly, feeling lightheaded. The blanket had slid down, fully exposing her pale shoulders and b*****s, but she was completely oblivious to it. Soon, she snapped back to reality at the sound of busy women bustling outside.

“Where am I? Ah. My room.”

Looking at the raw, unadorned wall stripped of wallpaper, Diana realized she was still inside the dark novel. Even after opening her eyes, she still held onto the desperate wish that this would all just be her home, but anxiety crept in that she might have to give up hope now.

Sighing heavily, Diana kicked off the blanket. Even though time had passed, the sheets were still damp and hadn’t dried.

“Yikes. Did I really leak that much in my sleep?”

Though the area between her legs was slightly swollen, it wasn’t to the point where she couldn’t move around.

“Dying would be better than suffering through this.”