The Fruit of Immorality - Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Fruit (Part 3)

Beatrice quickly picked up on it. The breath of the man she had intertwined with countless times grew heavy, his gaze filled with desperate desire for her—there was no mistaking it. Right now, Alessandro was aroused, burning with the need to bury himself inside her and satisfy his lust to the fullest.

But unlike before, Beatrice didn’t reach out to him. Instead, she shook her head and refused.

“Aless, no…”

“I won’t put it in,” he assured her.

“But…”

“I won’t do anything that could hurt you. Never.”

“Aless…”

Beatrice bit her lower lip. Alessandro, noticing her hesitation, pulled back slightly, indicating that he would wait for her permission. Even though his cock was standing upright, hard and ready, he remained patient for her sake.

Beatrice’s gaze fell on his fully erect member. Even in this state, he was still thinking about her well-being.

She raised her eyes and looked at Alessandro’s face. He was trying to appear composed, but the intense desire in his eyes betrayed him.

Gently, Beatrice lifted her hand and caressed his cheek. His skin felt warm and slightly damp, likely from the steam in the bathroom. Just like her own wetness.

Leaning forward, Beatrice pressed her soft lips against his. Her tongue slipped between his slightly parted lips, intertwining with his, rubbing gently.

The kiss was sweet and slow. Wet sounds echoed in the bathroom as their tongues danced together and their lips met and parted.

Only after a while did they break the kiss, both panting heavily.

Beatrice spoke, her breath ragged, “Don’t put it in.”

As soon as she gave her permission, Alessandro moved quickly. He gathered Beatrice’s legs together and slid his cock between her tightly closed thighs.

Slowly, Alessandro began to move. His hard cock rubbed against her soft, sensitive folds. Whenever the tip brushed against her, Beatrice let out a soft, breathy moan.

“Mm!”

But the sensation wasn’t enough to satisfy her. It was gentle, almost teasing, and it left Beatrice wanting more. The slow friction felt more like a tickle than real pleasure. Unable to take it anymore, she wiggled her hips.

“Faster, please. Aless, move faster… please…”

Seeing her flushed face and hearing her desperate plea made Alessandro’s cock throb even harder. He couldn’t refuse her when she begged so sweetly.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

His movements became faster and more intense. The wet sound of his cock sliding between her thighs filled the bathroom. Her inner thighs turned red from the friction, and her wetness dripped down, soaking them both. Even his balls slapped against her as he thrust.

“Ah, ah, aaah!”

“Ugh!”

They reached their climax together. As Alessandro came, his hot semen splattered across her chest, staining her freshly washed body.

Breathing heavily, Alessandro pulled away from her. He reached for the clean water, intending to wash her again.

But before he could, Beatrice wiped the sticky semen off her chest with her hand. She looked down at the white substance in her palm, then stuck out her tongue and tasted it.

“Ugh, bitter,” she said, grimacing.

Alessandro frowned. “Why would you eat that?”

“I don’t know… it just seemed like a waste,” Beatrice replied with a playful smile. Ever since she’d gotten pregnant, she’d been showing a more childlike side of herself.

Seeing her so carefree, Alessandro couldn’t help but smile. Feeling another surge of desire, he kissed her again, unable to hold himself back.

Beatrice responded naturally, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

Their tongues intertwined again, and their hands roamed each other’s bodies, seeking out familiar places.

“Aless… ah, Aless!”

“Bea… my love.”

“Aless, ah, aaah!”

The heat between them in the bathroom lasted for quite some time.

***

Alessandro gently washed Beatrice’s limp, exhausted body, taking care to clean every inch. As he lathered her with soft, foamy suds, his penis, which had already released its seed several times, stirred and hardened once again. However, Alessandro remained focused on tending to Beatrice, who was clearly worn out.

Even though she hadn’t refused, he didn’t trouble her any further. He simply asked gently if she was in pain, without demanding relief for the heat still coursing through his own body.

He poured clean water over her again and again, ensuring no suds remained, drying her carefully afterward. Despite his penis remaining painfully erect the entire time, he didn’t once give in to his urges. After wrapping her in a large, soft towel, he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to the bedroom.

The room was warm, almost stifling from the constant fire, yet Alessandro wasn’t entirely reassured. After laying Beatrice on the bed, he covered her with a thick blanket.

“Wait here for a moment.”

He quickly changed into fresh clothes, leaving his damp ones behind. Beatrice, peeking out from under the blanket, watched him with half-lidded eyes.

He opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of scented oil, the one with a fragrance Beatrice loved. Pouring some into his palm, he approached her.

“Bea, aren’t you cold?”

“No, I’m warm,” she replied, fanning her flushed face and pushing the blanket aside. The towel slipped off her body, revealing her bare skin.

Beatrice instinctively pulled her legs together, but after a moment, she relaxed. Even though her face was still red with embarrassment, she let her legs fall open.

Alessandro’s hand, still warm from the water, touched her skin. Her body, already heated from their lovemaking, felt even hotter, making his hand seem cool in comparison.

“How does my hand feel? Is it alright?”

Beatrice hesitated, then answered softly, “It’s nice.”

“It’s not too cold? Good.”

Her ears turned red in embarrassment, realizing she had misunderstood his question. Alessandro chuckled quietly, pretending not to notice.

His hand, which had been massaging her shoulders, slowly moved downward. The warmth from Beatrice’s skin transferred to his large hands as he gently rubbed her swollen belly.

After thoroughly massaging her belly, his hand moved down to her legs. He kneaded her smooth calves with just the right amount of pressure, not enough to hurt but enough to relieve the tension in her muscles.

“Ahh…”

Beatrice sighed contentedly, her body relaxing under his expert touch.

Ever since her belly had begun to grow, Alessandro had been giving her regular massages, and he had perfected the technique. His gentle yet firm hands always knew how to soothe her aches and pains.

As Beatrice’s eyes fluttered shut, Alessandro asked softly, “Should I sing for you?”

“…Mm.”

As soon as she gave her quiet answer, Alessandro began humming a low melody. It wasn’t much of a song, but it was enough to lull her into a peaceful state.

Beatrice loved these moments—when Alessandro massaged her body with care, when he hummed for her even though he wasn’t used to it.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and a sleepy smile spread across her lips as she drifted off. She was sure she would have pleasant dreams tonight.

Seeing her fall asleep with such a peaceful expression, Alessandro smiled with satisfaction. As she slept, he carefully dressed her to make sure she wouldn’t feel cold during the night.

***

Time passed quickly. Beatrice was now close to full term, her belly large and round like the moon, making movement increasingly difficult for her.

Whenever they were alone, Alessandro made sure her feet never touched the ground. He would always carry her with utmost care, his devotion unparalleled.

In contrast, Charles became more and more scarce, his presence in the mansion almost a rarity. Whatever business he had outside seemed to consume him, and even when he did return, he barely spent any time with Beatrice.

He no longer satisfied his overflowing desires with her either. Whether it was because pregnant women weren’t to his taste or for some other reason, he didn’t so much as touch her hand.

With their physical relationship gone, the few times Beatrice even saw Charles during her pregnancy could be counted on one hand. Even then, he would simply look at her with a complicated expression before sighing, without any emotional connection or deep conversation passing between them.

Beatrice found herself relieved. Any affection she once had for Charles had long since faded, and time spent with him now would only have been a torment. She was also glad she didn’t have to worry about Charles discovering her relationship with Alessandro.

While Beatrice calmly accepted Charles’s cold behavior, others expressed their concern. They couldn’t understand how Charles could neglect his pregnant wife, no matter how unfaithful he was or how many affairs he had.

They pointed out that, regardless of his feelings toward his wife, a nobleman should at least value his heir, mocking or consoling her with the idea that while women could be mistreated, children—especially heirs—should be cherished.

Every time Beatrice heard such remarks, she struggled to hold back a bitter smile. Hiding her twisted amusement, she would defend Charles, saying that he simply needed time to adjust to the sudden arrival of a child in his once-free life. She reassured them that it was fine because Alessandro, Charles’s brother, was devotedly taking care of her in his place.

Beatrice didn’t care what Charles was truly thinking or if he had any intention of accepting her child. But whenever she offered this explanation, those around her would nod reluctantly, if not entirely convinced. Using this excuse helped Beatrice avoid further gossip or unwelcome concern, so she repeated it as needed.

Even in his absence, Charles continued to trouble her, but it was bearable—until “she” arrived.

***

That day, Beatrice was spending time with Alessandro, enjoying a peaceful afternoon in the living room as they sipped tea, savoring the quiet, comfortable routine of her days. But that tranquility was abruptly shattered by an unwelcome guest.

“Let go of me! I have something to say to the Duchess!”

Pushing past the butler and servants trying to stop her, a woman burst into the room. She was someone Beatrice had never seen before—a beautiful woman with a voluptuous figure and a confident demeanor. With boldness, the woman introduced herself.

“I am the Duke of Clasis’s lover.”

In that instant, Beatrice understood who she was. This woman was undoubtedly one of the many mistresses Charles kept outside the mansion.