Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord-Chapter 39: New Power??(1)(R18+)

Tonya’s thoughts clawed at her from all directions— screaming at her for distance, while others whispered seductively, urging her to surrender to his overwhelming touch. And that darker longing was winning.

She reached for Steve’s hand, the one gripping her the supple flesh of her breast, and guided it with a trembling need, silently pleading for more.

He understood. His fingers tightened around her, claiming the fullness of her breast with a hunger that matched her own.

Mmmm

Another gasp slipped from her lips.

His hand glided down her waist, igniting sparks where his fingers traced. Behind her, he pressed close—hard, hungry—his cock snug against the swell of her ass.

He moved deliberately, grinding his rigid length into her, his breath hot against her ear, while his hands roamed—kneading her breasts, caressing her hips, and grazing her slick thighs.

Her skin was velvet beneath his touch, damp with heat and want.

Every stroke, every squeeze of her breadr, every push of his fat cock against hers unraveled her a little more.

He hadn’t dared to dream of moments like this in years, but now, caught in the intoxicating swell of her scent and the wet heat of her body, he felt overwhelmed by the sweetness that lay before him—achingly close, impossibly real.

He moved with reverence, hands gliding over her breasts in slow, deliberate strokes.

His fingers dipped lower, sliding into her gown and to her undergarment, finding her pussy soaked and responsive, and he lingered there, gently striding his finger along her warm swollen vulva, drawing out soft gasps from his lips.

But just as he leaned in, hungry to taste more of her, a sound sliced through the haze.

It was faint at first—indistinct chatter carried in on the wind—but then it grew clearer, more defined. Voices. Footsteps. Laughter. Fiona and Maggie, were returning to the house.

’Shit.’ Steve thundered inwardly, passed to the brink of the impromptu interruption.

But his instincts were sharp—quick, decisive.

Without hesitation, he leaned in, his lips brushing the delicate shell of Tonya’s ear. His breath was warm, trembling with the ache of what they were leaving unfinished.

"Meet me... meet me here at midnight. No—tomorrow’s midnight. Promise me." he whispered, each repetition low and urgent, more plea than command, more need than strategy.

He didn’t wait for her answer. He couldn’t. Every second pressed against them now like a closing door.

His hands, once possessive and exploring, slipped away from her trembling body. He stepped back—reluctantly, almost brokenly—as if releasing her had cost him something vital.

He turned toward the pot in one smooth motion, just as the sharp click of the back door broke through the air. His timing was perfect—barely.

Fiona and Maggie stepped into the room, their chatter halting for a beat as their eyes took in the scene.

There was Steve, back turned, calm and composed, reaching for the pot with a plate in hand—as if he’d been standing there all along, preparing to serve himself food.

No heat. No breathless closeness. No sign of the hunger that had just passed between him and Tonya like a flame too dangerous to be seen.

Tonya stood perfectly still.

The knife was still in one hand, a half-chopped vegetable in the other. But she didn’t move.

Her breath felt shallow in her chest, and though no mirror stood before her, her cheeks were surely flushed red.

Yet she remained exactly where she was, locked in place—body warm, mind drifting.

Fiona and Maggie, stepping inside, hadn’t caught the heat that had just passed through the kitchen. But they noticed something. They tried not to stare, eyes casually flicking toward Steve, who stood by the pot, appearing entirely innocent as he scooped food onto his plate.

Their gazes drifted toward Tonya next—who hadn’t chopped a single new piece of vegetable since they walked in.

"Tonya..." Fiona asked, her voice light but curious.

"...is everything all right?"

Tonya blinked, as if returning from a far-off place.

"Sorry?" Her smile came a moment later, slow and warm.

"Yes, I’m fine. Everything’s fine."

Fiona tilted her head, unconvinced but too polite to press. Maggie glanced at Tonya’s hands, then at Steve, then looked away.

Steve, hearing Tonya’s answer, allowed himself the tiniest smile.

It curled at the corner of his mouth, subtle and smug.

’ Damn... I’m a bad man.’ he thought with a private chuckle that never quite escaped his lips.

***

The day drifted on like that.

Steve finished his breakfast, and with nothing else to do—no chaos, no mischief, no secrets to tease into reality—he grew bored.

The silence of the house left too much room for thinking. So, he slipped away, strolling out of the town of Mirrors with a sac bag filled with several tools held behind his back, heading toward the familiar quiet of the surrounding forests—where all of this had once begun.

The moment he reached the tree line, he found a spot beneath the shade and dropped to sit.

The world hushed around him, birds chirping lazily in the canopy above. He leaned back on his hands, gazing through the leaves.

"Okay, well..." he muttered to himself,

"...today’s been dull enough. It’s time I got something done."

He reached behind him and pulled out the worn notebook—the Author’s Notebook—with its feathered quill still tucked inside.

It looked simple on the outside, but within it held power beyond reason.

"Let’s get serious." he said, opening to a clean page.

"No more boredom. No more waiting."

He dipped the pen and began to write in careful, determined strokes-

"Player, upon successfully hunting and securing the required number of forest prey (5), acquires a magic skill which enables player to enhance his magical abilities by a thousand folds."

He smirked to himself. In as much as he most definitely had Tonya booked to be ploughed by him, the next thing in line would most definitely be crafting his magic capabilities- and what better way to do that than to try it right now.

But something nagged at him.

’Was this really it? Was there a better way?’

He paused, tapping the end of the quill to his chin.

’ Would this even work?’ he wondered.

Then, with a sigh of resolve, he added a final full stop.

The page shimmered for a moment, then—ding!

A system notification blinked to life in the air before him.

[Task Failed.]

"uhh!" Steve muttered, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, kind of expected that."

He didn’t panic. This wasn’t his first rejection. Instead, he thought back—to how he’d written about the magic poultry meat he gave to Maggie and her family. That had worked. Maybe it was all about the phrasing.

He turned to a fresh page.

"Player, upon successfully catching all required prey, will be awarded by the system with a charm-based ability which compliments to his abilities as the ’Son of Hades’"

It was fair. With this, not only would he possibly attain a secondary magical ability, but also, just maybe, he could get a little more insight on what exactly the Son of Hades meant.

He added a full stop, took a breath—and waited....the suspense of the wait consuming him, until-

[Ding!]

A system notification rang aloud.

[Task Completed!]

Steve grinned, stretching his arms behind his head, satisfied.

"Yes! I did it! Now all that’s left is the hunt, right?...yeah, that sounds easy peasy...right?"

***

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