Evil MC's NTR Harem

Kristine's body trembled uncontrollably, the tension coiling in her belly wound impossibly tight. Her breath came in shallow gasps.

She could barely keep her balance as her hips continued to rise and fall, her thighs burning, her pussy quivering around the thick shaft that stretched her to the very brink.

"Ross…" she gasped again, barely able to form his name as the pressure inside her exploded into a maelstrom of sensation. "I—I'm… I'm going to—!"

And then it hit her.

The orgasm tore through her like a tidal wave—violent, overwhelming, and soul-wrenchingly intense. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth fell open in a silent scream, and her entire body locked up as she convulsed around his cock.

"Aaaaahhhhhh—!"

Her pussy clenched down hard, gripping Ross with spasmodic intensity. It milked him, squeezed him, worshipped him.

A flood of her cum gushed out around his thick girth, soaking both of them in a torrent of white-hot pleasure.

Her thighs trembled as her body bucked, her nails digging into Ross's chest hard enough to leave marks.

Her climax wasn't brief. It dragged on, wave after wave, rolling through her in long, shuddering pulses that made her whimper and cry out over and over again.

Her vision blurred with tears—not of pain, but of raw, unfiltered pleasure so deep it felt like her soul was melting.

Ross didn't move. He simply held her, his strong hands keeping her steady as she rode out the storm.

His cock twitched inside her, rock-hard and throbbing, pushed right against her cervix, bathing in the heat of her orgasm.

She collapsed forward, her breasts pressing into his chest, her body slick with sweat. She could feel every breath he took, every thump of his heart. Her own heart was racing, hammering so fast she thought it might break.

"…I've never cum like that before," she whispered, her voice hoarse and disbelieving.

Ross smiled faintly, brushing a strand of damp hair away from her face. "You were amazing."

Kristine gave a weak laugh, her forehead resting against his shoulder. "You mean your cock is amazing."

He chuckled softly. "Maybe. But it's you who made it worth it."

She smiled into his neck, her body still quivering in the aftermath. Her pussy was still twitching around him, overly sensitive, every little shift sending aftershocks rippling through her body.

And he was still hard.

God, he was still hard.

She lifted her head slowly, a flicker of disbelief and awe in her gaze. "You're still so hard. You haven't even cum yet…"

Ross's eyes darkened slightly, his hands flexing at her hips. "Not yet."

Kristine's eyes widened slightly, her breath catching. Her body was already overstimulated, her legs jelly-like, but the idea of him still holding back—still having that much control—ignited something deep in her again. A spark of wild hunger. Of challenge.

"You're… still inside me," she said, voice soft.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked gently, though there was fire behind his words.

She shook her head slowly, a mischievous glint forming in her tired but eager eyes. "No. I want to see if I can survive it."

Ross grinned, a slow, wicked grin.

"Then hold on, Kristine," he murmured. "Because I'm not done either."

And just like that, he gripped her hips and began to thrust—slow, deep, deliberate strokes that immediately sent lightning lancing through her sensitive core again.

She gasped, clinging to him as another moan spilled from her lips.

Despite the mind-blowing orgasm that had just left her ruined, Kristine realized one truth in that moment: when it came to Ross—his body, his cock, his dominance—once was never enough.

Not for her.

Not tonight.

And maybe… not ever.

The two made love with unrelenting passion from dusk till dawn, their bodies entangled in a feverish dance that refused to end.

The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin, ragged breathing, and cries of pleasure that echoed off the walls like a symphony of lust.

"Ahhhh…"

"Ohhhh…"

"Ughhhh…"

Kristine's voice, thick with desire, rang out shamelessly into the night. She had long ceased to care if anyone might hear. In that moment, there was only Ross—his touch, his mouth, his body.

His thick, powerful length drove into her again and again, hitting places that made her see stars, pulling wave after wave of ecstasy from her overstimulated core.

Her tight, sensitive folds clenched around him as if trying to keep him inside forever. She had lost count of how many times she'd come—once? Twice? Ten times?

It didn't matter.

Each climax blurred into the next in an endless tide of bliss. She had never known her body could feel so much, could crave someone so deeply.

Ross wasn't gentle. He was fierce, possessive, and utterly relentless—just the way she liked it. Every thrust sent her spiraling, every rough grip on her hips made her tremble.

His hands roamed her body with a kind of reverence mixed with raw hunger, memorizing every curve, every soft gasp, every tremor beneath his touch.

They explored each other like lovers lost in a dream. They started with familiar positions, but quickly grew more adventurous.

He bent her over the edge of the bed, lifted her against the wall, took her from behind while her fingers dug into the sheets.

He guided her onto his lap and made her ride him while he gripped her hips and whispered filth into her ear, telling her how perfect she felt, how beautiful she looked writhing for him.

Kristine had never been so utterly dominated, so completely cherished and ruined all at once.

Some positions were new to her—things she'd only seen in fantasies, never daring to believe she'd one day experience them. With Ross, every boundary dissolved.

She gave herself to him fully, and he took her like a man starved.

Time became meaningless. Hours passed in a haze of pleasure and moans, slick bodies glistening with sweat, sheets tangled and tossed aside.

Her legs were trembling, her voice hoarse from screaming his name, and still Ross wasn't done. He pushed her to her limits and beyond, forcing her to discover new peaks of pleasure with every stroke.