Evil MC's NTR Harem

And then his mouth was on her.

"Ahhhh!" she cried out, her voice high and breathless.

His tongue parted her slowly, tasting her, exploring her folds with deliberate patience.

It wasn't rough or rushed—it was intimate. Focused. Deliberate.

He seemed to savor every sound she made, every twitch of her body, every shaky breath she drew in.

Her legs trembled against his shoulders, and her back arched from the bed.

Her hands clutched at the sheets first… then found his hair.

She tangled her fingers in the strands, pulling gently, needing something to hold onto as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her.

"D…" she moaned, breathless, broken by desire.

"Ohhhhh…"

"Ughhhh…"

He didn't stop.

He only pulled her closer, his tongue working her in slow, circular motions that built in speed and intensity.

He licked, sucked, and teased her swollen clit, then explored deeper, tasting every inch of her slick heat like she was a feast laid out just for him.

She cried out again, the sound echoing in the room, raw and helpless.

Her thighs clenched around his head, her hips bucked slightly, and still he held her in place with strong hands—one at her waist, the other resting possessively on her thigh, anchoring her as her body began to lose control.

"Please…" she whimpered, barely able to form words.

And in the middle of it all—in that wild, overwhelming rush of sensation—she felt it.

That edge. That peak rising too fast to be stopped.

Her breath came in rapid bursts, her core tightening, her muscles tensing.

Ross didn't speak. He didn't look up. He knew. He could feel it.

And he pushed her over.

Her orgasm came like a tidal wave—sudden, fierce, and consuming.

"D!" She cried out, her voice trembling, her body writhing as the pleasure tore through her.

Her fingers clutched at his hair like a lifeline, her legs trembling uncontrollably as she rode out every second of the high he gave her.

By the time it ended, she was a mess of flushed skin, rapid breaths, and wide eyes filled with dazed wonder.

Ross finally lifted his head, lips glistening, eyes dark with desire—and love.

He kissed her inner thigh softly, like a silent promise.

And Heaven could only lie there, breathless and overwhelmed.

Heaven thought she had kept herself quiet—biting her lip, clenching her jaw, fighting the pleasure tearing through her like a storm.

But reality was far different.

She had been screaming.

Loud, breathless, desperate cries that echoed through the quiet house like sirens in the dark.

The walls offered little protection, and soon enough, curiosity crept in like wildfire.

Soft footsteps padded toward the source, and before long, a small crowd had gathered in the hallway outside the slightly ajar bedroom door.

The moans were unmistakable. The rhythm. The gasps.

The slapping of skin and the broken cries of someone unraveling in real-time.

"Oh my god…" someone whispered, wide-eyed as they peered through the crack. "Are they really doing what I think they're doing?"

"Duh," another voice replied in a flat tone. "It's not rocket science. They're fucking. Loudly."

"But isn't that—against the rules or something?"

"What rules?" someone scoffed. "This isn't high school. Maybe in the teen edition there were boundaries, but this version? We're adults. If people wanna hook up, they can. Nobody's stopping them."

That statement hung in the air like a challenge, settling uneasily between the assembled contestants.

They were all young, attractive, and stuck together in a luxurious cage for almost a month now.

The cameras may have been their constant companions, but desire didn't follow the same schedule.

Some had secretly caved to their needs at night, hiding under blankets, biting their knuckles, careful not to make a sound.

Others had remained stubborn—celibate either by willpower or sheer lack of opportunity.

A few still clung to their pride, pretending they were above it all.

But none of them—not one—could ignore what was happening now.

Inside the room, Ross was doing what everyone else had only fantasized about.

And he was doing it with her.

Heaven.

The beautiful one. The sweet one.

The girl with the innocent smile and the blushing cheeks, the one half the guys in the house had secretly thought about late at night.

She was beautiful and bold, a little adventurous, a little dreamy.

She'd seemed untouchable. Pure.

And now?

Now she was screaming his name.

"Ahhhh… D!" her voice cracked with a rawness that made spines tingle and thighs clench.

There was a stunned silence, broken only by the subtle groans and whimpers coming from behind the door.

Then a slow exhale from one of the guys.

"Holy shit," he muttered. "She sounds… incredible."

One of the girls crossed her arms, eyes narrowing.

"Well, I guess that mystery's solved."

But her voice was tight. Forced. Jealousy was a bitter taste, and it spread quickly.

Meanwhile, the others shifted awkwardly. A few were flushed. A few lingered too long.

And some walked away, unable—or unwilling—to listen any longer.

Inside the room, Ross hadn't even noticed the small audience his passion had attracted.

He was lost in Heaven.

Her body. Her voice. Her heat.

She was everything he'd hoped for and more. Responsive. Wild.

Desperate to be touched and held and consumed.

Her moans weren't just sounds—they were reactions pulled straight from her soul.

And Ross was drinking in every second.

This—this—was why he came to the house in the first place.

Not just for the fame.

Not for the prize money.

But for this game of tension and temptation.

For the thrill of seduction in a setting where restraint slowly unraveled, day by day, until something broke.

And tonight, Heaven had broken first.

She was his now. In every way.

And the rest of the house?

They could only listen.

Watch.

Imagine.

Jealousy, lust, frustration—all of it was now quietly fermenting behind the walls.

And in that moment, a shift began.

One that wouldn't be undone.

Tomorrow, the house would be different.

The stares would be longer. The conversations shorter. The rules—spoken and unspoken—rewritten.

Ross had lit a fire.

And he was sure to finish what he started. He pulled down the last piece of clothing on his body.