Evil MC's NTR Harem

And what Ross wanted, Ross always got.

He stood like a king on his domain, the center of every gaze in the club, as if the dim lights and the pulsing music bent themselves to his will.

Ella's sexy body was plastered on him, her cheeks flushed, her breathing shallow.

She knew what was about to happen, and so did everyone else watching.

But instead of shying away, she even moved her hips trying to take more of his cock—drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Ross reached out, one massive hand sliding around her waist.

The moment his fingers touched her skin, a wave of heat rolled through her body.

The crowd shifted, forming a loose circle, not because anyone asked them to, but because instinct told them that they were about to witness something unforgettable.

No phones came out. Whispers buzzed through the air.

Then, with slow, deliberate force, he began guiding her down even further.

"Ohhhhh…" Ella bit her lip, a strangled moan escaping her throat as gravity began to pull her onto him.

Every inch that slid inside sent shockwaves through her core, her tightness straining around him, her body adjusting in trembling surrender.

"Ahhhh… f-fuck…" she moaned, the sound raw and needy.

Ross kept his hands firm on her hips, controlling her descent, making sure she felt everything.

The crowd's eyes widened as inch after inch disappeared inside her, until at last, with a final deep thrust, she took him to the hilt.

Her entire body trembled in his grasp, her legs quivering, her chest pressed against his.

"Ohhh… Ross… it's so big…" she whimpered, her voice breaking under the intensity.

His lips curled into a satisfied smirk. "I know. And that's what makes it better."

He lifted her effortlessly, her body rising along his glistening shaft, before pulling her back down with a wet, obscene slap of flesh meeting flesh.

Pak

Pak

Pak

Again. And again.

Each time, her tight pussy clung desperately to his cock, milking him for everything he had to give.

The music thumped around them, but it was drowned out by the chorus of her sweet, wanton moans:

"Ahhhh…"

"Ohhhhh…"

"Ughhhh…"

Her voice alone could have made the room melt, but paired with the sight—the long, veiny length disappearing between her stretched lips, the glisten of her juices coating him, the deep indentation of her folds wrapping around his monstrous girth—it became hypnotic.

Her arousal flowed freely, running in hot rivulets down his shaft, catching the flashing club lights before dripping to the floor.

The smell of sex began to mingle with the faint scent of alcohol and perfume in the air.

"Look at them…" someone in the crowd whispered breathlessly. "God, she's taking all of it…"

Another voice answered, "Fucking lucky bastard…" the man was full of envy.

Ross didn't glance at them. His eyes were locked on Ella, his focus absolute.

His hands moved her faster now, their bodies moving in a rhythm so intoxicating it made everyone watching ache with a strange mix of envy and lust.

Ella's head fell back, her hair whipping behind her as pleasure surged through her.

She was lost to it now, riding him with abandon, her body a willing instrument for his desire.

Ross leaned forward, his lips brushing her ear, and in a deep growl that only she could hear, he promised, "I'm not done with you yet."

Bang!

Ross thrust upward with unyielding force, each powerful stroke timed perfectly with the downward roll of Ella's hips.

The impact was deep, filling her to the very core, making her body jolt and tremble in his grasp.

Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as though she needed to hold onto him to keep from being swept away completely.

The pounding bass of the club's music seemed to merge with the rhythm of their bodies.

The flashing strobe lights caught on Ella's sweat-slick skin, making her glow in a way that was almost unreal.

Her hair clung to her flushed face, and her lips parted in a series of gasps and moans that bled into the air around them.

Ross, ever in control, looked into her eyes with that dark, knowing smirk—the kind that promised he wasn't done, not even close.

His hand slid along the curve of her back, tracing the dip of her spine before venturing lower, fingers brushing teasingly between the firm cheeks of her ass.

His fingertips found their target—her other entrance—stroking it in slow, deliberate circles, testing its tightness.

Ella's moans broke into something sharper, more desperate.

Her breath caught in her throat, her hips faltering for the briefest moment before she rolled against him again, greedily seeking more.

The combination of his thick, relentless thrusts and the teasing of his finger made her nerves feel as though they were on fire.

Her vision blurred. Her pulse thundered in her ears. And then—

"Ross!" The scream ripped from her throat, raw and unrestrained.

Her entire body convulsed violently as her orgasm crashed into her like a tidal wave.

Hot, gushing release poured from her, splattering down his length and dripping onto the polished dance floor.

The crowd reacted instantly.

Gasps, murmurs, and the low, heated laughter of those too aroused to look away spread through the room.

Men shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide their growing arousal, while women bit their lips, eyes wide, caught between shock and envy.

Ella's pussy clung to him, trembling with aftershocks, her folds stretched deliciously around his massive girth.

She was shaking, her thighs quivering uncontrollably, yet Ross didn't let her rest.

He kept his pace steady, drawing every last ounce of pleasure from her, forcing her to ride the lingering wave until she was completely undone.

When her strength finally gave out, she sagged against him, her breath coming in short, shallow pants, her body limp yet still twitching from overstimulation.

Ross held her effortlessly, his expression cool and utterly satisfied—as if this display, in front of an entire audience, was nothing more than his natural right.

After all… what Ross wanted, Ross always got.