Evil MC's NTR Harem

It was madness, it was obsession, and yet, she couldn't bring herself to stop.

Even now, as she lay beneath him, feeling his cock twitch inside her, she knew the truth.

She wasn't going anywhere.

"No, I can't," Grace denied, shaking her head, her breath still heavy from their previous round.

Even now, she clung to the love she once had for her husband, refusing to let it go.

A fragile hope remained in her heart, telling her that maybe—just maybe—things could still be salvaged.

Ross, however, was unbothered by her rejection. If anything, her resistance only amused him.

He smiled, his sharp eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something possessive.

To him, this was merely a challenge—one he fully intended to win.

"Then we continue," he said smoothly, his voice carrying an undeniable certainty.

Everyone had a breaking point and it was only a matter of when and not if.

And just like that, another round began.

Pak.

Pak.

Pak.

Ross was relentless. But unlike before, this time, he did not stop.

There were no breaks, no pauses to catch their breath. He took her again and again, his stamina seemingly endless.

Monday night turned into Tuesday, and then Wednesday, and still, they continued. The outside world ceased to exist.

There was no eating, no sleeping—only pleasure.

At first, Grace fought against the inevitable. She told herself this was wrong, that she could not fully give herself to Ross.

But her body betrayed her. Each thrust, each kiss, each touch unraveled her willpower thread by thread, drowning her in overwhelming sensation. Her mind fogged, her thoughts dulled until only one thing remained—him.

By the time Friday came, she was already losing herself. Her moans had grown more desperate, her grip on reason slipping.

But Ross wasn't done with her yet. He pushed her further, deeper, until she had nothing left to hold onto.

Saturday.

Sunday.

And then, on the eighth day, it happened.

Grace finally broke.

Her eyes were wild with need, her body trembling with an unbearable craving only Ross could satisfy.

Her hands clung to him as if he were the only thing anchoring her to reality, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

And then, with a voice hoarse from the countless cries of pleasure that had escaped her lips, she screamed—

"YES! Fuck me, Ross! I'm all yours now! Please, don't stop! I love you!"

There it was. The moment he had been waiting for.

Ross smirked, his satisfaction absolute. He had stripped away every last ounce of hesitation, every lingering tie she had to her past.

The woman beneath him was no longer the same person she had been when they started. She had surrendered completely.

"Perfect," he murmured, his fingers tracing the sweat-slicked curves of her body.

Grace had fully embraced what she truly was—a woman consumed by desire, a woman who craved him beyond all reason.

The resistance, the guilt, the doubt—they were gone.

And in their place was something far more exhilarating.

A woman who belonged to him.

A woman who would never be the same again.

***

A whole week passed before Ted finally saw his wife again.

He had searched for her everywhere—calling her friends, checking the places they used to visit, even going to her parents' house—but she was nowhere to be found.

When he finally tracked her down at her office, relief washed over him for a brief moment.

But as soon as he stepped inside, that feeling was replaced by something far heavier.

The atmosphere between them was suffocating, cold and unfamiliar, as if an invisible wall had been erected between them.

Looking at her now, seated behind her desk with an air of indifference, Ted could hardly believe this was the same woman he had been married to for years.

"Grace, we need to talk," Ted said, his voice tight with desperation.

"I don't think so, Ted." She barely spared him a glance. "There's nothing left to talk about. It's over between us. I belong to Ross—body, soul, and heart."

Ted stiffened. The words hit him like a punch to the gut. He had prepared himself for anger, for accusations, even for tears.

But this? The calm, detached way she spoke, as if he was nothing more than an inconvenience, left him shaken.

He took a step closer, reaching out instinctively, but before he could close the distance, a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

Ted turned, startled, only to see a tall, broad-shouldered man standing beside him. Ross.

"The divorce papers will be ready next week," Grace continued, her tone businesslike, as if she were discussing an upcoming meeting.

"Until then, don't come near me again."

Ted clenched his fists. His wife—his Grace—was slipping through his fingers, and he had no idea how to stop it.

"Grace, please. You're making a mistake. Whatever happened between us, we can fix it. We always do."

Grace finally looked at him then, but there was no warmth in her eyes. No hesitation. Just resolve.

"It's too late, Ted. You did something terrible, and I did too. But unlike you, I don't regret my choices." She let out a breath, shaking her head as if shaking off the last remnants of their past.

"Ross says you can keep the money. He just wants you to leave us alone—forever."

Ted opened his mouth to argue, to beg, to say something—anything—that would bring her back. But there was nothing left to say.

He watched as Grace turned away from him, her attention already elsewhere, as if he no longer existed.

And with that, she closed the chapter of her life that included him—without a second thought.

It went without saying—Ross married Grace that same year. With her, he welcomed his 26th wife into his ever-growing harem, a spectacle that once again set the world abuzz.

News outlets, social media, and gossip circles couldn't stop talking about it.

Some were in awe of his influence, others outraged by his audacity, but none could ignore the sheer scale of his power.

Grace, once just another woman trapped in a boring marriage, was now a figure of fascination—envied by some, scorned by others.

Yet, as the world debated her choices, she remained unbothered, reveling in the lavish and intoxicating life Ross had given her.

***

The year 2031 had arrived, and at just 25 years old, Ross stood at the very pinnacle of his existence.

Power, wealth, influence—he had it all, and there was nothing beyond his reach. If he so much as willed it, the world would bend to his desires.

Yet, for someone who could have anything with a mere thought, life had become less about striving and more about entertainment.

He spent his days indulging in whatever piqued his interest, filling the endless void of time with fleeting amusements.

What others thought of him? It didn't matter. He was beyond their judgment, beyond their understanding.

Seated in a luxurious private estate with his wives gathered around him, Ross leaned back, exuding the effortless confidence of a man who had conquered everything.

A glass of the finest wine rested in his hand, untouched, as he glanced at the women who shared his life.

"So, what's next? Anything interesting we can do today?" he asked, his voice carrying a casual boredom that only someone like him could afford.

His wives, ever eager to please, wasted no time offering suggestions.

"Let's go on another vacation, Ross. Somewhere exotic this time."

"Maybe a charity event? Something for cancer patients? It would be nice to give back a little."

"Real estate is still booming, darling. Why not buy more land and buildings? Expand our empire even further."

One by one, they voiced their thoughts, each idea reflecting their own personalities and interests.

Some sought adventure, others philanthropy, and some, like him, simply sought more power.

Ross listened, considering them all, yet none truly sparked that thrill he was looking for.

But then, just as he was about to dismiss them all with a smirk, one of his wives leaned closer, her voice carrying an unmistakable allure.

"Ross, why don't you…"

Her words trailed off, but the glint in her eyes told him everything—this was something different.

Something exciting. And for the first time that day, a genuine spark of interest lit up within him.

He listened, and without any effort at all, the words sparked a genuine interest in his heart.

It wasn't often that something truly intrigued him anymore, but this—this had potential.

"…consider joining show business," Althea suggested, her voice carrying a confident lilt.

"I have plenty of connections there, and with my help, you could step into that world effortlessly. You wouldn't just enter the industry—you'd dominate it."

She smiled, watching his expression shift ever so slightly. She knew that look.

She had seen it before, that flicker of curiosity and amusement whenever something managed to break through his usual indifference.

"Think about it, Ross," she continued, leaning in slightly.

"You've already conquered business, wealth, and power. But the entertainment industry? It's a completely different kind of influence. Imagine the world watching your every move, hanging onto your every word—not just because of your status, but because they adore you."

Ross tapped a finger against the rim of his glass, considering her words.

Fame was never something he sought—after all, he was already the center of attention whether he wanted to be or not.

But Althea wasn't wrong. Show business was another game entirely, one that could be played on his terms.

A slow smirk tugged at his lips.

"Interesting," he murmured. "Tell me more."

Althea's eyes sparkled with satisfaction. She had him.