Hacking the Game Didn't Go as Intended [Part Two]

CHAPTER 230: Roselle - The Information Broker

The room was silent and dimly lit.

Lumielle collapsed against the door, eyes wild, chest rising and falling rapidly. The silk of her veil clung to her damp skin and her knees shook beneath her.

"What's happening to me..." she whispered, clutching the fabric over her heart. "Why can't I stop thinking about her—about him?"

Her breath came in short, desperate bursts. Her body ached in ways she had never known. The heat coiled inside her like a secret, shameful storm.

And it wasn't fading.

It was growing.

Suddenly, the once quiet space produced an amorous sigh of pleasure.

Lumielle's head snapped up, eyes darting across the dim room. Opposite her behind silken drapes was a four-poster bed bathed in the light of a fireplace. On its edge sat a tall, lithe woman garbed in sleek black leather and knee-length boots. Her blonde hair was cut short and styled to perfection. A choker cupped her throat.

Kneeling subserviently before her was an unclothed girl. She moaned softly as the leather-clad woman touched her with slow, delicious possessiveness, her body slick with sweat, pink-tipped nipples elongated to pert peaks.

Further up the bed, several other girls lounged—bare-skinned, flushed, and smiling with half-lidded eyes. Some watched eagerly. Others kissed and caressed one another, their giggles light and feathery.

Lumielle couldn't look away.

Her mouth parted, breath caught in her throat as an image—one she had never dared imagine—flashed through her mind without pause... completely, utterly, dangerously... uncensored.

Sophia.

Leaning over her. Touching her the same way—slow, decisive, possessive, teasing... pure, delicious torture. The forbidden thought scorched through her like wildfire.

Suddenly, the blonde's eyes shifted—directly to her, then she smiled with amusement, licking a finger.

With predatory grace, she rose from the bed and crossed the room like a shadow in motion. Her heeled boots clicked softly against the floor.

She stopped mere inches from the intruder and backed her against the door without a word. Her palm slammed against the wood beside the princess's head. Her other hand rose, slow and deliberate, and cupped the girl's breast through her silken garb.

Lumielle gasped sharply.

The woman leaned in, her breath warm against the princess's cheek. Her voice was smooth as wine and twice as intoxicating.

"If you even remotely liked what you saw," she whispered, "...or enjoyed my touch... then this world—" she motioned subtly toward the bed, "—is where you truly belong."

Before Lumielle could react, a hand shot out of the shadows and seized the woman's wrist.

"That's far enough," Daisuke said coolly.

The blonde's eyes flicked to him, unstartled. Her gaze moved over him with faint amusement. "My, my. I didn't even sense you enter the room," she said, withdrawing her hand with a sultry smirk. She turned back to Lumielle, brushing a strand of hair from her own brow. "Princess, you have a capable servant... and a firm breast. I like that."

Lumielle flushed violently and averted her eyes, her breath still shaky.

The woman chuckled and sauntered back across the room, slipping into a cushioned lounge with feline grace. She leaned back, crossing her legs, firelight casting her in sensual shadows.