Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord-Chapter 24: The Queen Witcher Is A MILF??(1)

What felt most daring to her, in that moment, was that her hands moved on their own.

Before she even realized it, they reached out—trembling slightly—and wrapped around his now fully hardened length. He was completely irresistible to her now.

The sensation of his warm cock overwhelmed her. It consumed every corner of her mind, leaving her breathless.

She didn't know how to respond, only that she was being overtaken by the moment—by him.

Her breast milk flowed into his mouth as he suckled her slowly, tenderly, each motion sending pulses of pleasure through her, igniting something deep within.

It was as if her soft, full breasts had been made for this, for him—to be devoured and adored, to pour warmth into him as he drank, lips wrapped around her with such need.

The heat between her legs burned hotter, achingly so. And still, her hand moved with purpose, guided by desire and curiosity, needing to touch him, to understand.

'There's nothing wrong with this.' she told herself silently.

' I'm just... checking on him. That's all. He's just really... big. Maybe too big. I just need to know why. Make sure everything's okay. It's not bad. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just... caring. That's all.'

And with that fragile reassurance echoing in her mind, her fingers gently tightened around him, hesitant yet yearning.

Just as her trembling fingers were only inches away from stroking his hardened length-

BANG!

BANG!

BANG! —a sudden, thunderous knock exploded against the front door.

The sound shattered the trance that had enveloped them.

Steve and Maggie jolted, eyes snapping open, breath hitching as reality crashed back in.

Steve's brows furrowed in confusion as he slowly pulled away, his lips slipping from her milk-slicked nipple.

A trail of warmth remained on her skin—glistening, wet, exposed.

They turned toward the source in unison, still breathless, still entangled in the afterglow of their intimate haze.

'...Hmm? No one was supposed to be here.' Steve thought, a ripple of unease settling into his chest.

Tonya and Fiona had gone out hours ago. There was no way they could be back this quickly. His instincts whispered danger.

Beside him, Maggie rose, the blush still blooming across her chest and cheeks.

Her heart thudded in her ears as she reached for her robe, throwing it over her bare form.

Even through the fabric of her gown, the memory of her naked form clung to his mind like a fever—those sumptuous curves, the sway of her full, soft ass, and the heavy, mouth-watering swell of her breasts, barely restrained by the thin material.

Every movement she made teased him, awakened a heat that burned low and deep.

And gods, she knew he had seen it all.

Maggie took a deep breath, steadied her steps, and made her way toward the front door.

She clutched the robe tighter around herself, trying to shield her body as her fingers curled around the doorknob. As she opened it, her eyes squinted instinctively against the light.

There, standing tall and unyielding, were two imposing women clad in gleaming silver plate armor.

Their chests, full and proud, shimmered in the daylight, swords slung at their hips. There was no mistaking it—these were Royal Guards of the Vale.

Here. At the Tower of Mirrors.

An icy chill crept down Maggie's spine.

"Can I... help you?" she asked, her voice tight, uncertain. The confusion on her face was barely concealed as her eyes flicked between the two women.

The taller of the two guards stepped forward slightly. Her voice was firm, unwavering.

"Steven Jobson. Does he reside here?"

Maggie hesitated, her eyes narrowing. freewēbnoveℓ.com

"Um... yes. He does. Has he... has he done something wrong?"

The guards didn't answer right away. They only stared—hard, unreadable.

And Maggie, peering into their eyes, caught a flicker of something unsettling. Fear? No... not fear.

Something deeper. As if they were staring at a ghost—or a god.

Still, there was the pending silence between them.

"Has he done anything wrong?" she repeated, her tone sharper now.

Finally, the second guard spoke, her voice like a blade cutting through the still air.

"Steven Jobson is to appear before the Queen Witcher. He has been summoned to the capital immediately. We've been ordered to retrieve him."

Maggie stepped back, her heart pounding.

"R-Retreieve him? On what grounds? You can't just take him away without telling us why!"

"That's not your concern, ma'am." the first guard said coldly.

Without waiting for permission, the two women stepped forward, pushing the door open. Maggie stumbled back, eyes wide.

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

A voice rang out from behind her, low and calm but filled with tension.

"Hey."

The guards froze, heads turning.

There stood Steve, bare-chested, wearing only his undergarments. His body still bore the heat of what had just transpired, but now his expression was alert, sharp. He met their eyes without flinching.

"St...Steven Jobson...?" one of the guards muttered.

"Yeah. I heard everything." Steve said, stepping forward slowly.

"If you're here for me, fine. I'll go. Just don't touch anyone else."

He looked past them, his eyes briefly locking with Maggie's. She opened her mouth to speak, but he gently shook his head, a faint smile softening his face.

"Don't worry..." he said.

"...I'll be fine. I'll be back soon."

But inwardly, he wasn't sure. He didn't understand what he had done—or why he was being summoned.

The name Queen Witcher meant nothing to him, yet the weight of it was heavy.

'Still, these were royal guards. Surely they wouldn't hurt an innocent man....right?'

He stepped forward again, standing before them with quiet resolve.

"I'll come with you. Just promise no one else gets hurt."

The two guards exchanged a glance, then turned their silver gazes back to him.

"Alright..." one of them said.

***

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