Chapter 40: My First Time Might ……

Prunier suddenly pounced on Olivia, pinning her down onto the bed.

The pink sheets wrinkled into a mess.

Olivia’s back sank into the soft mattress, her silver hair spreading across the pink fabric like melted moonlight.

The collar of her bright yellow shirt twisted to one side, revealing half of a pale collarbone.

The hem of her pink skirt flipped up a little, and the edge of her white knee-high socks brushed against Prunier’s leg.

Prunier straddled her, both hands planted on either side of Olivia’s head.

Her red twin-tails hung down, the tips brushing across Olivia’s cheek.

Crimson pupils stared down from above, the corners of her lips curling upward.

Olivia’s mind went blank.

‘Is she going to do that kind of thing? Is my chastity going to be lost today? Sorry, Elenora, but my first time might…’

“Little Olivia.”

Prunier’s voice dropped from above.

“Pretending to be a dead Dragon Slayer all this time—was that to keep me at a distance?”

Olivia could hear the tilde in that tone.

Just like two years ago at the Silver Dragon King’s Palace when she’d said, “That dress of yours is stuffed so full in the chest.”

Just like an hour ago in the hallway when she’d said, “Now it’s my turn to eat you, right?”

“Ah… ah…”

Olivia’s lips trembled.

Her silver eyes dared not meet Prunier’s gaze;

They slid sideways and landed on the still-lit game console screen on the nightstand.

A pixel character was frozen at the pause screen, holding a sword aloft, mid-swing against a slime.

Prunier’s stare was too intense—those crimson pupils were like two coals that had burned too long, getting closer and closer to her face.

She could feel Prunier’s breath brushing against her skin, carrying the sweet, greasy scent of potato chips mixed with fruit candy.

And then she felt her own body starting to heat up.

Starting from her neck, spreading upward to her earlobes, downward to her collarbone, and then further down to her thighs hidden under the pink skirt.

The Silver Dragon bloodline surged inside her, but not the surge that signaled a transformation—this was different.

Softer, hotter, the kind that made her want to bury her face in a pillow.

Prunier’s face was getting closer.

The tip of her nose was almost touching Olivia’s.

Then Prunier’s fingers pressed against Olivia’s waist.

All ten fingers tightened at once, on the soft flesh between her waist ribs—she tickled her like playing the piano, fast and fierce.

“Letting you fool me.”

“Hmph.”

“Playing the Dragon Hunter.”

“Playing a man.”

Olivia’s entire body jolted.

The kind of jolt that happens when someone hits your ticklish spot and your body can’t help it.

Her silver hair whipped across the pink sheets.

The hem of her bright yellow shirt pulled out from her skirt, revealing a strip of pale belly.

Prunier’s fingers immediately chased after it, concentrating their assault on the soft spot at her waist that was most sensitive to tickling.

“Hahahaha—wait—hahahaha—stop—”

Tears squeezed out from the corners of her eyes, trickling down her temples into her silver strands.

Her legs kicked wildly, the lace edges of her white knee-highs rubbing against Prunier’s thighs.

Her hands tried to push Prunier’s hands away, but every time she grabbed them, she broke free, followed by another round of even more ferocious tickling.

“Call me Big Sister.”

Prunier’s fingers paused on her ribs.

“Big Sister—hahaha—I already did—hahahaha—”

Prunier’s fingers shifted positions, moving from her waist to the backs of her knees. Olivia jolted again.

Her silver eyes went wide, her mouth open, laughter stuck in her throat, turning into a series of broken gasps.

The white knee-highs slid down, revealing the flushed skin behind her knees where the tickling had reddened.

The door opened.

Zijiang stood at the entrance.

Her pink cat-ear headphones were askew, holding a tray with two steaming cups of cocoa.

Her pink ponytail hung over her shoulder.

Pale violet eyes peered through the gap between the cat-ear headphones and the doorframe at the two people on the bed.

Prunier was straddling Olivia, her hands shoved under the backs of her knees.

Olivia lay on her back, her silver hair a tangled mess spread across the pink sheets, the hem of her bright yellow shirt rolled up past her chest, revealing her entire pale belly.

The white knee-highs had slipped down to her ankles, the lace dragging on the floor.

Tears clung to the corners of her eyes, her cheeks flushed an unnatural red, and broken, near-suffocating laughter escaped her lips.

All three froze.

Zijiang looked down at the cocoa on the tray.

Then she looked up at the two on the bed.

Her pink ponytail swayed.

“Pardon the intrusion.”

She took a step back.

“Wait, it’s not what you think—”