Evil MC's NTR Harem

Iris felt the wetness between her legs, the slick evidence of her arousal despite the bitterness in her heart.

Iris clenched the blanket tighter around her, as if it could shield her from the onslaught of emotions coursing through her.

How could her body react like this? How could it long for the very man who had stolen everything from her?

It made no sense, and yet the truth of it was undeniable. Ross had made her come so many times the night before, she had lost count after the twentieth climax.

The pleasure had been relentless, overwhelming, and completely inescapable. No matter how hard she tried, her body had surrendered to him, again and again.

The shame of it burned in her chest, but what was worse was the flicker of desire that still lingered. How could she despise him so deeply, yet feel this way?

It was as though her body had become a stranger, acting against her will, responding to a force that she didn't understand.

She thought back to the moments when her mind had been clouded with pleasure, when her thoughts had dissolved into nothing but the sensation of his hands, his lips, his body.

Iris sat motionless on the edge of the bed, her thoughts racing in circles. Nearly five minutes had passed before the realization struck her like a bolt of lightning—her son, Derek.

Panic gripped her chest, and the air seemed to grow heavier with each breath. How could she have forgotten him, even for a moment?

Guilt surged through her, fueling her determination.

She turned to Ross, still lying lazily on the bed.

"Hey! Ross, wake up," she said, shaking him urgently. Her voice quivered as she added, "Where's my son? Derek…where is he?"

Ross stirred, his eyes opening halfway as a smirk played on his lips.

"Hmm… don't worry about him," he said nonchalantly, stretching as if he hadn't a care in the world.

"He's already at the hospital. Why don't we—" He stopped mid-sentence as Iris leapt from the bed, his words falling on deaf ears.

Her heart pounded as she frantically searched the room for clothing. She rifled through Derek's closet, finding a pair of old jeans and a hoodie. They didn't fit her perfectly, but it didn't matter.

She yanked them on hastily, her hands trembling with urgency. Without sparing Ross another glance, she bolted from the room, her mind focused solely on her son.

The house was unfamiliar, every hallway and doorway an obstacle as she rushed toward the exit. Once outside, the disorientation hit her like a wave.

She had no idea where she was or how far she'd have to go. Her feet moved instinctively, carrying her down the dimly lit street, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

Her mind was consumed with fear. Was Derek safe? Why was he in the hospital? The thought of anything happening to him made her chest tighten painfully.

Tears blurred her vision, but she pressed forward, her maternal instincts overriding her exhaustion.

Suddenly, the screech of tires pierced the night air, and a car came to an abrupt stop in front of her. She staggered back, her heart leaping into her throat.

The driver's door swung open, and to her shock, Ross stepped out, his expression calm but unreadable.

"How did you—" Iris stammered, her voice barely a whisper as her mind struggled to process what she was seeing. She had left him upstairs, still in bed, only moments ago. How could he be here, driving a car?

"Not the time for questions," Ross interrupted, his tone firm yet oddly reassuring. "You want to see your son, right?"

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding, her lips pressed into a tight line. Wordlessly, she climbed into the passenger seat, her hands gripping her knees as the car sped off into the night. Find your next read at My Virtual Library Empire

The silence between them was thick, her anxiety palpable as the minutes stretched on. She stole a glance at Ross, who remained focused on the road, his expression unreadable.

The drive felt like an eternity, but finally, they arrived at the hospital.

Iris didn't wait for Ross to park the car. She pushed the door open and bolted inside, her heart pounding in her chest as she navigated the sterile hallways in search of her son.

When she finally found Derek's room, relief flooded her as she saw him alive, lying in a hospital bed. Tears welled in her eyes, and for a moment, she thought everything would be okay.

But as she stepped closer, her gaze fell on his face, and her relief turned to horror. His mouth was heavily bandaged, and it took her a moment to process what she was seeing.

"No…" she whispered, her knees threatening to give out beneath her. She moved closer, her hands trembling as she gently touched his arm.

Her mind screamed in denial, but there was no mistaking the truth.

His tongue had been cut out.

Iris sank into the chair beside the bed, her hands covering her face as sobs wracked her body. Iris glared at the man she held responsible for her son's injuries, her voice trembling with suppressed rage.

"I hate you. I will never forgive you for this," she hissed, her words sharp but quiet.

Ross met her gaze, unfazed, and smirked.

"I doubt that's the whole truth," he replied coldly.

"Your son is a kidnapper, a rapist, and a killer. Frankly, I should have buried him six feet under and spared the world the misery of his existence. The world would be a far better place without him."

Iris's jaw tightened, her fury growing. "And aren't you the same? You forced me—you used me, and you—"

Ross cut her off with a sharp gesture, his tone firm.

"That's different," he said, his voice calm but tinged with menace.

"You and I share something now, a connection. I don't allow my women to be touched by other men. So, let me warn you—behave yourself, or your husband will be the next to fall, just like your son."

Iris's breath caught in her throat. Her mind raced at his words, their sinister undertone chilling her to the core.

Ross leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

"That saintly image of your husband—the brave soldier, the honorable politician—it's a facade. No one survives this world without being touched by its filth. The sooner you understand that, the better."

Before Iris could respond, Ross bent down and pressed a firm, possessive kiss to her lips. Her body froze, her emotions a whirlwind of anger, fear, and helplessness.

Then, as if nothing had happened, Ross straightened and turned away, his footsteps echoing ominously as he walked out of the room, leaving Iris with his words reverberating in her mind.