Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord-Chapter 17: So...Big....

Dinner went just as badly as breakfast.

The porridge was warm, creamy, and tasted pretty good as always. But that wasn't the only thing good about dinner.

This time, it wasn't just Fiona who avoided Steve's gaze—Tonya joined her. Both girls sat stiffly at the table, their faces tilted away, their spoons moving mechanically.

They didn't even glance in his direction, as though Steve were invisible.

The clinking of cutlery echoed softly through the quiet room.

Steve didn't need to look hard to notice it. The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

He shifted his spoon slowly through his bowl, his fingers tapping lightly against the table as he watched the two girls pretend he didn't exist.

Across from him, Maggie's brows furrowed slightly. She looked from one girl to the other, puzzled by the heavy silence. Her gaze hovered, questioning.

'What's going on?' she thought, her lips barely parting in curiosity.

Then, she cleared her throat lightly, trying to break the atmosphere.

"Ahem. Um... why don't you tell us about your day, Tonya?" she asked gently, forcing a polite smile.

Tonya froze. Her grip on the spoon tightened just a little. She lowered her gaze, her face flushing a deep red as she slowly stirred her porridge in circles.

Steve, upon hearing this, curled his lips into a quiet, knowing smile.

'She's trying so hard not to look at me.' he thought, eyes flickering in her direction.

'This is going to be good.'

Tonya hesitated, then after a short breathe, she let out a faint breath.

"There... there wasn't anything... special about my day," she mumbled.

"I just... went shopping." Her voice was soft, shaky. She shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable, and her spoon dipped into her bowl again as if hoping to hide inside the porridge.

Her face was still flushed. And Steve knew exactly why.

'Hehe.' Steve thought, his eyes twinkling as he stared into his bowl.

'I got in her head pretty good.' freeωebnovēl.c૦m

The memory of what had passed earlier that day lingered in his mind like a piece of sweet chocolate melting on his tongue.

He didn't even need to speak—just watching her squirm was satisfying enough.

He turned his head slightly, eyes drifting to Maggie.

'Two down...' he mused with a lazy smirk.

'...Only one more to go.'

But the thought shifted quickly, and a deeper, more determined gleam surfaced in his gaze.

'Ohh yeah...that's right...I still need to complete my harem with Tonya before I'll be rewarded with the skill. The power to charm any woman within five meters...' He paused, spoon halfway to his lips.

'Which means maybe I should hold back on making a move on Maggie.'

Then again...

'What's the harm in getting a little closer now? It's not like I need the power this very second.' The spoon finally reached his mouth. He took a bite and let the warm porridge sit on his tongue for a moment, savoring the flavor.

'Yeah.' he thought as he chewed slowly.

'this is the life I need. The life I deserve. The life of a Harem Overlord....I'm gonna do it...I'm gonna make a move.'

And so, dinner dragged on in silence. The mood remained cold, awkward. No one dared speak again.

The tension sat between them all, untouched, as each one finished their food and excused themselves with barely a word.

Eventually, everyone retreated to their chambers for the night. Just like before, the town of Mirrors quieted. The night wrapped its silence over the rooftops, over the hills, and into the hearts of those within the house.

But this time, Steve didn't have any ulterior motive. No plans. No mischief. No late-night schemes.

He just wanted to rest.

The day had been long, and his mind was tired. When he lay down, the bed embraced him with a familiar softness. His eyes closed, and within moments, his breathing slowed into sleep.

Time passed quietly.

The moon traveled its path and dipped behind the mountains. The stars faded. And soon, the early sun began its climb, casting a faint golden light over the silent village.

Rustle.

Rustle.

The quiet sound of sheets being disturbed broke the calm of the morning.

Fiona slowly sat up in her bed. Her eyes were still closed, her lips parted in a small yawn.

She stretched with a soft sigh, raising her arms overhead, her chest arching forward under her thin blouse. Her soft breasts shifted gently with the motion, swaying subtly as she let her body relax again.

She rubbed one eye with the back of her hand.

"Ugh... it's morning already." she murmured under her breath.

"I better get started and go do the dishes before Maggie finds me still in bed."

She caught the faint glow of sunlight leaking past the window.

Rustle.

Another soft sound behind her. She paused, her ears picking it up.

"Huh?"

She turned slightly, following the source of the noise.

And there he was.

Steve lay on the bed nearby, sprawled out on his back. His limbs were loose, his breathing steady but shallow. His head shifted faintly from side to side, a low groan escaping his throat as he stirred in half-sleep.

"He's waking up?" Fiona whispered, watching carefully.

But at that moment, something else caught her attention.

Her eyes drifted downward, slowly—hesitantly—until they landed on the front of his pants.

Her breath caught.

A bulge. Big. Noticeably large.

His morning wood pressed boldly against the fabric of his pants, the shape unmistakable. Her cheeks flushed at once, eyes wide.

'Oh my...' she thought, stunned.

Back then, when he had pressed his hardened length against her, she had felt it. But now... now she could see it.

'I knew he was big, but... not this big...' she thought, almost in disbelief. The sheer size of it made her chest tighten.

For a moment, she just stared. Her eyes moved from his face—still sleeping—then back to the outline below. Her lips parted slightly, and she slowly leaned forward, just enough to get a better view.

Her heart raced.

'I... I wanna touch it...but...why...' she thought, her hand hovering slightly over her lap, unsure of whether to move.

Her lips parted slightly, and without even realizing it, her hand rose—not toward him, but to rest lightly over her chest, her fingers brushing across the swell of her breast as if to steady the racing beat beneath.

She swallowed, eyes locked on the imprint in his pants.

'Why is it so...big...and why do I feel the urge...to feel it...?' she thought again, barely able to finish the sentence in her mind.

***

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