Chapter 339 - 345

"N-no... I never said I wanted that to happen," Brian stammered, taking a desperate step forward as the sheer weight of his own misery threatened to crush him. Quinn had already pushed him far past his absolute limit.

"Ohh, are you perhaps suddenly having second thoughts about letting Sylph become the neighborhood’s communal cumdump?" Quinn smirked, thoroughly enjoying the pathetic spectacle.

"I didn’t mean it like that... but I can’t just allow my own wife to—"

"Ohh, so you are a possessive man after all, brother. How glorious of you to finally find a spine," Quinn chuckled, glancing down at Sylph, who was smiling lazily without a single care in the world.

"Yes... I don’t want her to get fucked by random people..." Brian covered his bulging groin instinctively; his body was reacting even while his mind was tearing itself apart.

"Your tiny twig is already maxed out just watching, brother. How can you expect to gatekeep a woman like this?" Quinn mocked mercilessly.

"No... this is a completely different kind of reaction... and besides, who in their right mind is crazy enough to hand their wife over to be used like a public toilet?" Brian stood his ground, flashing a brief, defiant spark of genuine human pride.

"Ohh, so that’s where you draw the line. How touching. Tell me, Sylph, do you feel any remorse at all for getting railed this hard by me right in front of him?" Quinn tilted her chin upward, forcing her to meet his gaze directly.

"No... hehe, I honestly don’t care about Brian’s affection anymore. I suppose I love him in my own way, but the moment I’m wrapped up in your arms, none of that matters," she murmured, leaning up to capture Quinn’s lips once more, eagerly savoring the lingering taste of his saliva.

"Haha, good to hear. It seems your dear wife couldn’t care less about your boundaries, brother. But fret not..."

"You wouldn’t actually do it... right?" Brian gritted his teeth, his entire body trembling. He had been offered the chance to reclaim his wife, but she had casually tossed his authority aside.

"Who said you get to make the rules? Let me handle the decision-making, brother. Hehe, how about I invite your own brother, Dren, over to share your wife?" Quinn grinned widely, deciding to twist the knife even further by using the man’s own bloodline against him.

"No... you wouldn’t dare. My own brother would never do that to me..." Brian’s breathing hitched violently. He nearly staggered backward, catching his balance only by sheer force of will.

"Are you truly certain about that, brother? Hehe, I happen to know for a fact that Dren looks at your wife with a rather fierce, hungry expression. Sylph’s body is a masterpiece, after all," Quinn whispered devilishly, quickening the rhythmic thrusts of his hips while kneading her heavy breasts.

"He wouldn’t... he’s the one brother in this world who would never betray me..." Brian’s mind raced frantically, trapped in a nightmare loop of paranoia. What if it was actually true?

"What on earth are you blabbering about, brother? Let’s look at a realistic hypothetical. What if you suddenly dropped dead tomorrow and left Sylph all alone?"

"No, my brother would respect my memory..." Brian panted heavily, his chest heaving as suffocating sweat beaded on his forehead. If the idea of her getting fucked right in front of him was already happening, then imagining Dren casually holding her waist in the future suddenly didn’t seem so impossible.

"Haha, you’re overthinking things wildly, brother—though that frantic anxiety is precisely why I find you so entertaining."

"No... please, don’t say another word."

"What? I’m merely sharing some philosophical thoughts. You really are a killjoy, brother. Such a massive buzzkill," Quinn scolded playfully, bringing his hand down to deliver a sharp, resounding spank across Sylph’s round rear as a minor punishment.

Slurp... slurp... "Punish me even harder, dear... I can’t wait to taste whatever grand feast you’re preparing for me next," she purred, licking lower and aggressively cleaning the sweat from his armpits.

"Haha, look at her, brother. Your own wife is actively begging for a proper pounding. In that case, I really must call brother Dren over to join us."

"Stop..."

"I won’t stop, brother. Why don’t you just settle down and act as a decorative background character?"

"Please... I’m begging you on my knees, Quinn. I’ve already had enough. I can’t bear to see Sylph like that... especially not with my own brother." With a heartbreaking creak of his joints, Brian collapsed onto his knees, completely shattering his remaining dignity as he begged for mercy from his tormentor.

"It’s not up to me to make the final call, brother. Why don’t you ask Sylph whether she’d welcome him or not?" Quinn watched with cold amusement as the grown man wept openly at his feet. It was a pathetic sight, though entirely predictable given the circumstances.

Unfortunately for Brian, Quinn had zero intention of stopping. His grand ambition was to conquer everything in his path, and Sylph was merely the first stepping stone in his collection of high-ranking conquests.

Creak...

The front door slowly drifted open, breaking the heavy tension in the room.

"Brother... I’m here. Brother Quinn said he had prepared a magnificent feast for us, so I rushed right over," a voice called out smoothly from the hallway. It was Dren! Or at least, an exact, flawless replica of him.

’Good grief, utilizing the shapeshifting skill I just purchased is truly a masterpiece of a trick. Even his vocal pitch, cadence, and unique mana aura are identical,’ Quinn thought with immense satisfaction.

The advanced shapeshifting ability allowed him to alter his facial structure, voice print, and atmospheric aura at will. Combined with his seamless cloning technique, he could effectively manifest an entire battalion of distinct individuals while maintaining absolute control.

’I’m definitely going to utilize this skill much more often in the future. Letting a cheat-tier tool like this sit gathering dust in my arsenal would be a crime.’ Quinn shifted his gaze back to Brian, who was currently a broken, weeping wreck on the floor.

"Dren? Brother, why on earth are you crying like that? This hardly seems like the proper occasion for tears..." Dren asked, dropping a small package he had been carrying onto the entryway table as he stepped further into the room.

"N-No... don’t listen to him. Quinn said, You were only supposed to..." Brian choked on his own words, unable to finish his sentence.

"What? A feast, obviously! I came here expecting to share a delightful meal with you and our esteemed guest... so wipe those tears away, brother..." Dren stepped forward briskly, though Brian—in a desperate, protective instinct—instantly lunged forward to block his line of sight, preventing Dren from seeing Quinn actively buried deep inside Sylph’s rear.

"No, you can’t come any closer..." Brian sobbed.

"Ohh? So this is the ’feast’ our host prepared..." Dren muttered, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his face as the terrifying reality of the scene finally clicked into place.