Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 660: Chapter 660 InternThat was all Ross needed.

In an instant, something in him shifted. The restraint he’d held onto all this time finally snapped.

It was like a beast had been quietly caged inside him, waiting—watching—and now it had been set free.

He moved with sudden, fluid power, flipping her gently onto her back and hovering over her with eyes that burned with hunger.

Sasha gasped in surprise, but there was no fear in her expression—only eagerness, excitement, and something deeper: trust.

Ross leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear. “Then I hope you’re ready,” he murmured, his voice low and almost dangerous. “Because I’m not going to hold back anymore.”

And then he kissed her again—rougher this time, hotter, like he needed her as much as she needed him.

Her world tilted as his hands roamed, his mouth claimed, and his body pressed against hers in a way that made her feel like she was being completely, utterly consumed.

He wasn’t just touching her.

He was taking her.

And she loved every second of it.

Sasha’s skin prickled with heat.

A fire had taken hold of her body, one that didn’t burn but simmered, low and deep, in every nerve ending.

It wasn’t just lust—it was longing, aching, overwhelming anticipation.

She had never felt this way before. Not with anyone. Not even close.

Her breath caught as Ross’s lips found hers again—soft, then hungry, then soft again, like he was savoring her taste.

She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer until their bodies were flush, and the only thing between them was the thin fabric of her nightwear—fabric that would soon be gone.

She moaned into his mouth, a sound full of surrender. Her body knew what it wanted, and her heart had already made its decision.

Her nipples were tight, her thighs pressing together in helpless anticipation, heat building in her cunt as Ross’s hands roamed down her back, his fingers firm, confident, and maddeningly gentle.

He hadn’t even truly touched her yet—and already, she was on fire.

Sasha had known other men.

She had dated, kissed, flirted. Wesley, the most recent, had claimed her heart—but he had never truly seen her.

Never made her feel cherished. With Ross, everything was different. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted her soul.

And that realization made her breath catch all over again.

She had never felt more wanted. More desired. More safe.

And more willing.

“Ross…” she whispered against his lips, trembling. “I want this. I want you.”

There was a shift in him then. A sudden intensity that darkened his gaze, made his hold on her tighten. The air between them grew hotter, heavier.

Then—rip.

The sound of tearing silk filled the room as Ross pulled her nightdress apart in a single, fluid motion.

The torn fabric slipped off her shoulders and slid down her body like water, pooling on the floor as she gasped.

But she didn’t protest. She didn’t flinch.

Instead, she smiled.

She was bare before him now, not just in body but in spirit. Every flaw, every insecurity, every scar—laid open to him without fear.

Ross’s eyes drank her in, and the way he looked at her—like she was the most precious, breathtaking thing he’d ever seen—made her tremble more than the cold ever could.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent.

Sasha flushed under his gaze, not from shame but from the overwhelming emotion swelling in her chest. Her arms moved instinctively, reaching for him.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, the words catching in her throat. “Take me.”

And he did.

Gently at first. Tenderly. Like unwrapping a gift he’d waited years to open.

He kissed her again, deeper this time, their tongues dancing as his hands moved across her skin—exploring, claiming, worshiping.

Her breath came faster, every touch fanning the flames higher.

Her moans were soft and breathy at first, then louder, freer, as she surrendered completely.

And then… nothing else mattered.

Not the past.

Not Wesley.

Not even the world outside that room.

There was only Ross.

And the way he made her feel.

Like a woman.

Like a goddess.

Like she was the only one who had ever mattered.

“Ahhh…” Sasha gasped, her voice trembling through the kiss as Ross’s hands slid over the soft curve of her breasts.

His touch was firm but gentle, filled with practiced ease and great excitement.

He cupped her fully, letting his thumbs trace over her sensitive peaks, and her whole body trembled in response.

A warm, tingling sensation unfurled across her chest, down to her belly, and settled between her thighs where the need pulsed stronger by the second.

The ache was becoming unbearable, but it wasn’t pain—it was raw, sensual longing.

She had never felt this kind of heat before, this kind of desperate hunger to be touched, to be claimed.

Her legs shifted restlessly against the sheets, and her hands clung to Ross’s back as he kissed her deeper, harder, pulling a moan from the depths of her throat.

Hahh… hahh… hahh…

Her breath came in uneven gasps, chest rising and falling rapidly beneath his touch.

Her skin was flushed with heat, and her thoughts scattered like ashes in a windstorm.

Ross pulled away slowly, his lips leaving hers with a soft, lingering sound.

Sasha blinked up at him, dazed and breathless, the air thick with tension and heat. For a moment, he didn’t speak.

He was just staring at her.

Not at her face.

At her chest.

His gaze was riveted—hungry, awed, utterly focused on her breasts.

One of them was slightly red from his earlier fondling, a delicate hue that only made her skin glow more invitingly in the soft rays of the morning sun.

And Sasha didn’t hide.

She sat up just a little and showed Ross what she was all about.

Her breasts were completely bared to him now, and instead of shame, she felt pride.

Pride in her body.

Pride that it was him who was looking at her this way.