4★ 'Forest Pursuer' Grace
Grace let out a strange little moan and walked on through the forest without a word.
"Ah, if you cross the line thinking this is your moment, you're all getting banned. Watch what you type in chat."
Of course, once she'd let out a moan right in front of the camera drone, there was no way the viewers were going to stay quiet. The chat was already swarming like a kicked hornet's nest — looping reaction gifs, extracted audio files, the whole circus.
Grace, a little embarrassed about the moan she couldn't even explain, walked on through the forest in silence with her lantern raised. Han Se-ah was busy reining in viewers who kept trying to cross the line in a rush of excitement, while Irene and Kayden stayed quiet as always, so the forest settled into a natural hush.
Grace had gone from 3-star to 4-star, gained a new passive skill, and her title had changed from Apprentice Ranger to Forest Pursuer. But all of that was system talk. In the party itself, nothing much seemed different — and just like always, everyone scattered off to their own rooms.
Or so I thought.
"…Roland?"
"What's up, Grace?"
"Nothing. I just wanted to ask if you were free for dinner tonight."
I'd assumed she was heading to her room, but she'd slipped back and come up beside me. Probably because of Lily Depp that morning — her cheeks flushed as she asked me out on a date. I had no reason to refuse, so I nodded, and she beamed and fell into step at my side.
I'd originally planned to drink alone in my room and browse the internet, but there was no way I was turning down a date with a beautiful woman. A glance at the chat showed it had gone quiet — Han Se-ah must have headed up to the inn and ended the stream right away.
As we stepped out onto the street, which was starting to fill with people, Grace gently took my arm and led the way. She must have had a place in mind. Enjoying the soft press of her against my forearm, I let her guide me wherever she wanted.
"…We're eating here?"
"The drinks we had last time were really good."
She answered as if it were nothing, though her voice trembled. The place she'd casually led me to was the inn I'd booked for Han Se-ah and Grace — the Lucky Scoundrel Tavern. The same place where she'd gotten drunk and thrown herself at me.
I wasn't about to play dumb when she was standing in a spot like that and talking about the taste of the alcohol instead of the food.
"Yeah? It really was good."
"…Nnh?!"
As we stepped inside, I casually slid a hand onto the small of her back, and she flushed and let out a tiny sound. Whether her new passive had heightened more than just her scouting senses — every sense, apparently — I could feel her flinch under my palm.
She put on a calm, practiced front, but underneath she was still that sensitive, fragile body. Whether the desire that had been building since that night had finally broken free because of Lily Depp, or because of her newly sharpened senses, I couldn't say — but either way, I wasn't complaining.
The first-floor hall was packed with rowdy scoundrels shouting their heads off under the gazes of the beautiful waitresses, same as always. I ordered the same drinks we'd had last time from a passing server, then sat across from Grace and just looked at her.
"What?"
"You look delicious."
"Ah, come on…."
She'd clearly caught that I was teasing her outright — her cheeks puffed up. No matter how hard she tried to play the cool, composed woman, she had no experience to back it up. A little dirty talk was all it took to shatter her composure.
Of course, that pure, easy-to-tease side of her was still better than a complete maniac like Rebecca. With nothing left to say, she pressed her lips tight and started cutting into her steak, chewing in small bites while I kept watching. We ate steak, drank, traded small, ordinary conversation — and I kept looking at her the whole time.
"Why do you keep staring like that?"
"I told you. Because you look delicious."
"……."
At that, she half-chewed a bite of steak still dripping with juices, swallowed it roughly, and rushed through the rest of her meal. Whether it was from being teased nonstop or from her heightened senses, she knocked back her drink as a palate cleanser — then her eyes went wide.
"Kh— koff—"
"What? What's wrong?"
"No… I didn't realize, but the alcohol feels stronger than usual."
She had no way of knowing Han Se-ah had awakened her and added a skill, so she seemed ready to write it off as her imagination. It was a little funny watching her react so sharply even to the alcohol going down her throat — her whole body really had gotten that sensitive.
Of course, people adapt. Once she learned to control those heightened senses, she'd get used to them. Which meant I had to enjoy tonight as much as I could.
I moved to Grace's side as she drained what was left of her drink, slipped an arm around her waist, and steadied her. Her slim waist fit into my palm with nothing left over, and her breathing roughened at once. Was every sensation — from the liquor sliding down her throat to the bare contact of skin — sparking through her?
"You already look drunk. Let's go up."
"No, I…."
"Together. Let's go up."
"…Okay."
On the stairs up to the rooms, Grace melted into my arms. The noisy guests downstairs — all bluster and empty boasting to impress the waitresses — paid us no attention at all.
Taking advantage of that, my hand turned wicked. The arm around her waist slid lower and gave her nicely rounded ass a light squeeze.
"H-hnnnh—?"
"Must be the fatigue. The alcohol's hitting you hard."
"Ro-Roland, youuu—"
Just how sensitive had she gotten? Her eyes were already glistening. Watching that pale skin flush red, I tightened my arm and half-carried her up the stairs one step at a time. She tried to walk on her own, stumbling, but her legs had already gone soft — it was hopeless.
One stroke down her back, one firm squeeze of her ass, and her legs gave out? Just how sensitive was she now?
Still, the reactions were so intense it was fun to tease her. Up the short flight of stairs, down the brief hallway, every time I kneaded her ass her waist shuddered. That addictive feel kept my hand moving until Grace finally snapped.
"H-how long are you going to torment— sehhnn—!"
She was looking up at me from inside my arms, eyes flashing with a sharp little glare. Of course, with her eyes wet and her cheeks burning red, the look was anything but scary — it only got a man more worked up. So I ignored her weak little rebellion and simply lowered my head and covered her mouth.
Lips on lips.
She'd knocked back that strong liquor so hard the sharp bite of alcohol still clung to her mouth. I bit down lightly on that full lower lip, then worked her mouth over with lips and tongue, tasting and playing with her.
Her lips were just as hypersensitive as the rest of her — that alone had her breathing harder and harder.
"Haaah… haaah…. W-wait a second."
I pulled away with a wet, obscene little sound, and she gasped for air. She'd even forgotten we were supposed to get into a room — she leaned into me on legs that trembled like a newborn fawn's.
By now, even through the alcohol and the oxygen-starved haze, she must have realized something was off. She gave a weak little wave of her arms, but I was already past the point of stopping. That hot, sweet scent rising from her body in waves — what man could hold back from that?
I caught her limp, fluttering arms and pushed her back against the wall so her shaking legs had something to lean on. Trapped between the wall and me, Grace looked up with trembling eyes and let out a long, heated sigh.
"I said wait a little~"
"I gave you time to catch your breath."
Around the party she played the composed older sister and got called "noona" by the viewers, but the moment it was just the two of us she turned into this clingy, coaxing girl. That naturally drawn-out way of speaking tickled right through my chest, so I covered her mouth again.
Another wet, filthy sound of saliva. It was quiet enough to be buried under the racket from downstairs, but to the two of us with our tongues tangled together it rang louder than thunder.
What finally broke that endless, sticky kiss was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Grace, dazed and drunk on her own heightened senses, didn't notice — but I could feel some lucky adventurer coming up with a waitress on his arm.
"Mmnh, hweh—?"
"You've got your key, right? Let's get inside."
I had no interest in showing some nameless scoundrel her face, all sweet and melted from drink and pleasure. I stopped the kiss, stroked her waist gently, and gave her ass a couple of light pats. Grace staggered off toward her own room on unsteady feet.
Even moving like she was drunk on her own senses, her mind wasn't completely gone — she found her door and opened it without thinking.
"I-I need to… wash up first…."
"Yeah, I know."
She slipped free of my arms and bolted through the open door. Of course, with that stumbling gait she wasn't exactly fast, so I was right behind her. After a full day exploring the Tower's forest, she must have been bothered by how dirty she felt — she looked ready to flee straight into the private bath.
I nodded like I understood, shut the room door, and immediately followed her in.
The sudden rush of alcohol seemed to have cleared a little. Grace, halfway through undressing with somewhat clearer eyes, startled and stared at me. As a country girl who'd never known a man, the idea of washing together had clearly never even crossed her mind.
I paid her reaction no mind, stripped off my own clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. The Lucky Scoundrel Tavern was expensive enough to come with basic magic tools. I worked the long fixture the way you'd handle a showerhead until warm water flowed, then pressed myself against Grace.
"I-I said I'm washing!"
"I need to wash too."
"Then wait outsi— deh?!"
The way she squeaked and nearly collapsed from the lightest touch was adorable. This was a special kind of fun you could only enjoy in the first half-day after a skill went live. I aimed the warm-water fixture at her shoulder, and even the water sweeping across her skin made her back and waist shudder.
"Washing together is faster. And me washing you will be even faster."
"It's not about being faaast~"
She tried to resist, mortified at the idea of handing over her sweat-damp body — but when I rubbed her flawless back with my palm in slow, firm strokes, the moans that slipped out cut her words short.
Not her chest, not her ass — just her back and shoulder blades, and not even gently, more like scrubbing her clean — and still those heated little sounds kept escaping. I hung the shower-style magic tool back on the wall, worked up a lather with both hands, and started rubbing it over every inch of her.
As the foam rose and her pale skin disappeared under white bubbles, her breathing grew rougher and rougher. From her back to her arms, from her arms to her chest, my hands moved with slow, deliberate wickedness until she gave up resisting entirely and surrendered herself to me.
"Honestly… your hands are way too dirty…."
"I'm a man. Can't help it."
The dirt and dust from hours of tramping through the forest rinsed clean away in the foam. What remained was skin warmed soft and damp under the hot water and my palms. I roughly toweled her off, scooped her into my arms, and carried her toward the bed. Grace mumbled something under her breath.
The constant drum of hot water on her skin must have helped her start getting used to the heightened senses. Even so, her body hadn't fully cooled — that flushed red skin and rough breathing were still very much there.
Every time she exhaled against my chest, that hot, sweet air teased me. Sweet breath — that was a pretty perverted observation. But any man in this situation would understand. A naked woman, body burning, breathing hard against you — what else were you supposed to call it but sweet?
"You're such a pervert…."
"I told you. All men are perverts."
Maybe she didn't want to lose one-sidedly the way she had on the first night.
She gave the back of my hand a little pinch, like she found me annoying, then pretended to pull free and lightly stepped on my foot. Then she lay back on the bed with a soft grace and looked up at me — and the sight of her was intoxicating.
Sprawled across the white sheets, she stretched both arms out toward me. A flash of pink tongue darted between those red lips, and then she spoke.
"Still…. At least today you kissed the top half first, Mr. Pervert."
"Last time you called me 'Sir Knight.' My treatment's really gone downhill."
"Last time you acted like a knight. Right now you're acting like a pervert, so."
Apparently the way I'd gone down on her first last time, to ease the pain of losing her virginity, had left more of an impression than I'd expected. Still, the fact that she could grin and joke about it meant she'd recovered some of her wits. I slid between those outstretched arms and buried my face against her.
The sweet scent of body wash at the tip of my nose, and underneath it the richer smell of her body itself. I drank in that never-tiresome scent of a woman and gently kissed her breast.
Her heightened senses must have already had that pink nipple standing stiff. I mouthed at her breast, then kissed that hard little peak with soft, wet sounds, and her whole body shuddered again. Apparently the sensitivity cut both ways — pleasure and ticklishness both hit harder now.
"That… tickles my chest…."
But the arousal was still there. Every time the body beneath me trembled, I could clearly feel the strength drain from her thighs. Like those noble ladies who took aphrodisiacs for a night's pleasure, a few minutes of caressing was all it took for her whole body to go soft and loose.
By the time that warm body started to cool a little, she was as limp and yielding as stew meat that had been simmering for days. Her breasts, shifted slightly to the side; her flat, toned stomach; her completely spent thighs — every press of my hand sank into her like clay, an addictive give.
Into that melted body, I drove myself without hesitation.
"Nnhh?! Hiihk, hnnnh—!"
"Hah— you were waiting for this, weren't you?"
Grace's pussy, melted soft and wet, swallowed my cock whole without a hint of resistance. Sticky, hot folds wrapped around the head, and a heated sigh slipped from my mouth on its own. Grace, of course, had no mind left to answer my teasing — she just arched her hips and writhed.
I hadn't wanted an answer anyway, so I moved my hips in silence.
Schlick— the filthy wet sound drowned out Grace's moans. Every time our hips slapped together, the most obscene noises filled the room. Her arms and legs, limp as a broken doll's, trembled and told me everything about her state without a word.
Even if the water beating on her skin had dulled those heightened senses for a moment, there was no getting used to a cock stirring her open and knocking against the front of her womb.
"W-waait—"
"Hey, Grace."
"A little— just a little slower…!"
Her trembling hand settled weakly on my chest. She couldn't even push — couldn't even hold her arm up — so her forearm just moved with my body every time I thrust. That lean, toned archer's arm fluttered uselessly.
Along with that limp resistance, Grace opened her mouth — but I didn't stop.
"I told you last time. When you say that, a man can't hold back."
"This time I— ah, I didn't even—!"
"You did. You did it so fucking hot."
That baseless dirty talk slammed into her ear, and the arm that had been trying to push at my chest lost its strength and dropped to the side. Every time my heavy cock pounded deep into her belly, she let out thin little ngh, ngh sounds.
I lowered my head to those weak breaths and swallowed her saliva-soaked lips again. Those full, warm lips that felt so good to work over.
Whether it was a kink I'd always had or one that came with becoming Roland, I loved the way she went completely limp. All those beautiful women who showed so many different faces eventually ended up the same on a bed — tears in their eyes, bodies gone soft.
That lewd, fragile look that stroked a male's pride — not a man's, a male's — made my already hard cock swell even harder as it ruthlessly carved into her melted insides.
Schlick, schlick, schlick—
Chup, chuuup, chuuuup—
"Y-you pervert… you're like an animal, reallly…."
"I like 'animal' better than 'pervert.'"
With every roll of my hips, Grace's slim lower belly rippled and the muscles in her limp thighs jumped. Matching that, a sharp, electric urge to come climbed my spine.
I wrapped the Grace beneath me into my arms like I was locking her in and kissed her thick and deep. Not content with just mouthing her lips, my tongue pushed between her teeth. I licked over those small white teeth, her pretty pink gums, her tongue, holding her tight as if to crush her.
A filthy, vulgar kiss of mixed saliva, as far from romantic as you could get. The moment her fine brow furrowed slightly, I slammed my hips forward hard.
"Ah— ahne…."
At the same time, Grace wrapped her legs around my waist with every scrap of strength she had left. Drunk on pleasure, her words came out crushed and broken as she forced them out.
"Inside… you can come…."
I'd already had the contraceptive magic done from sleeping around with so many women — but I never expected those words to come out of Grace's mouth.
Had that virgin who'd never known a man gone around after the first night, cheeks burning, secretly looking into contraceptives? The image of that Grace in my head pushed my cock past its limit, throbbing and straining. A woman who swallowed her shame and prepared contraceptive magic just for a night's pleasure…!
That irresistible mental high slammed into my brain, and like a dam gate opening, the semen came surging out. I let myself go into those legs locked tight around my waist and pumped it deep into her, as deep as I could go.
"Hnnn, wait— let me rest a little…."
"I told you, Grace."
"Seriously, just a secon— wait, no? You just came…?"
"When you say things like that, a man can't hold back."
Grace didn't seem to know it yet — but a man's orgasm was not the end of sex.
Especially not after hearing her ask him to come inside.