It was safer for the eldest son of Count Asherton to be incompetent rather than capable. That way, nobles who had become the king’s dogs wouldn’t look for excuses to slander him. 

In some sense, James, once intelligent and ambitious, growing up to be a dissolute playboy might have been his way of protecting the family.

By now, James had well passed thirty, and his brother had earned tremendous military merits on the battlefield. While James worked secretly to protect the family and territory, his younger brother Raymond, twelve years his junior, had become a hero in the war to defend the holy land.

He was happy, but not completely. James wasn’t lacking in martial skills either. No, his swordsmanship surpassed many knights who had earned distinguished military honors in the holy war.

Nevertheless, people often mocked James, saying that while he had abundant wealth, he was too dissolute to uphold the family honor.

At the end of this path of debauchery, James reached a point where he could no longer enjoy the act of sleeping with women. Despite mixing flesh with so many women, not a single one had borne his child.

A man instinctively knows certain things. James realized that God had not given him seeds when he was lying sick with fever.

By that point, his mother should have noticed that he had no seed, but she refused to acknowledge the truth. Perhaps because accepting that there was something wrong with her eldest son, who had lived a devout and virtuous life, would mean there was something wrong with her.

For James, the purpose of marriage was to produce an heir to continue the lineage. In aristocratic society, no one expected to marry for affection.

Yet strangely, both his wives wanted James’s love. Perhaps more so because no child was conceived.

Marrying Winifred was an insult to him. A top-tier nobleman marrying a tenant farmer’s daughter who was barely better than a serf? A woman without even a surname?

What was so important about continuing the lineage that he had to make a marriage choice no other nobleman would make? Other nobles would have let their brothers continue the line or found a male relative.

However, one source of pride for the Asherton family was that they had passed down the title from eldest son to eldest son for eight generations. 

It was true that people believed it was God’s blessing for the legitimate firstborn son to inherit the title. 

But James also felt great resentment toward his mother for marrying her son to a lowborn woman without even a surname for this reason.

His twisted feelings manifested in whipping his young wife. For James, who never struck people unless sparring with weapons, Winifred, with her slender body trembling before the whip, taught him sadistic pleasure.

“Ahng, it hurts, it hurts… It hurts, Count.”

But now James learned that rough f*cking of his wife’s p*ssy could bring him far more sadistic pleasure.

His wife’s p*ssy, tormented by his brother’s massive c*ck, was ripened with pleasure like a soft, melting fruit.

Who would have thought that his wife, who couldn’t even produce p*ssy juice beneath him, would gush so much fluid while taking his brother’s c*ck? 

The sensation of her p*ssy, usually dry but now wet and slick, squeezing his vigorously thrusting p*nis filled him with rage.

“The Countess was only tight when penetrated by her husband’s c*ck, but she pours out fluids when f*cked by her brother-in-law’s c*ck. How fitting for someone of low birth.”

As he thrust up forcefully, the slapping sound of his t*sticles hitting his wife’s b*ttocks was loud.

“Hah, ha, oh!”

Had this woman ever moaned like this beneath him? 

He only remembered her clutching the sheets, biting her lips, enduring the pain. His wife, her face flushed red, head thrown back, panting, looked lewd and beautiful.

An irresistible desire welled up. He grabbed her slender waist hard enough to leave handprints and pounded into her p*ssy with crushing force.

His brother sucked on his wife’s br*asts as she squirmed under the overwhelming stimulation. Each time red and blue lip marks appeared on her fair br*asts, James felt his mind spinning. He moved his hips like a panting dog.

Despite his dissolute past, this was the first time he had lost his senses while thrusting. James, who always maintained composure while toying with women’s bodies, now continued f*cking with frightening intensity, without a shred of dignity, like a beast in heat.

Winifred had never dreamed there would come a day when her husband would desire her so intensely.

Each time her body surged upward from her husband’s powerful thrusts, her brother-in-law sucked hard on her swaying br*asts. He roughly kneaded the other br*ast that had been unattended, seemingly about to crush it. 

Both her lower body and br*asts hurt from the men’s rough handling.

Yet this blasphemous situation, the fact that two men lustfully desired her, gave Winifred sinful pleasure.

Her ravaged p*ssy happily released juices to welcome her husband’s p*nis. The wet, obscene sounds were clear even to her own ears, making her blush.

Her husband’s p*nis probed places he had never penetrated before. He placed Winifred’s long, firm legs on his shoulders and continued merciless f*cking, so deep she thought her abdomen might burst.

Not to be outdone, her brother-in-law went from sucking her n*pples to pushing his tongue into her gasping mouth. This time, Winifred entwined her tongue with his hot one. Though guilt remained clear amid the melting pleasure, her body craved more pleasure because of it.

His wife, letting his brother suck her br*asts and kiss her, tightened her p*ssy strongly with each of his brother’s movements, seemingly matching his rhythm. James’s anger blazed even more fiercely. It felt like she was giving her heart to his brother while reluctantly offering only her p*ssy to him.

This was the opposite of what James had expected. He had believed his wife, though uneducated and lowborn, would be faithful and obedient to her husband. 

He thought she would reluctantly spread her legs for her brother-in-law while crying and begging, feeling guilty about betraying her husband.

Winifred’s blue eyes were fixed on his brother’s face, unmoving. His brother was the same. Did he know? 

That those eyes were no different from the eyes of James’s dead wives who had begged him for love.

His body seemed to burn with jealousy. James buried his c*ck shaft to the root in his wife’s p*ssy. When he pressed and rubbed her reddened cl*toris with cruel force, her slender body arched backward like a bow.

“Ungh, ngh, hnnngh…”

He pounded her p*ssy punitively, unable even to make wet moans. How long did he continue filling and probing her tight p*ssy with his p*nis? 

Her lower abdomen trembled with convulsions before clear liquid burst forth with a gushing sound.

“Hic… S-sorry, Count, ah, hngh!”

Winifred, thinking she had urinated, apologized in shock. But James had no desire to correct her. No, he didn’t even have the composure to do so. 

Her vaginal walls tightened mercilessly, squeezing his p*nis like the hands of a milkmaid. James closed his eyes tightly, trembling as he poured all his s*men into his wife’s womb.