Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1101: Chapter 1101 Candidates

Lea’s hands began moving in slow strokes, twisting gently as she sucked on the massive tip, her saliva beginning to pool and drip down over her fingers.

She pressed her chest against Ross’s thigh, using her entire body to pleasure him, determined to show she could match or surpass Chelsea’s effort.

The sisters soon found a rhythm again—Chelsea licking along the thick underside, Lea swallowing as much of the crown as her mouth could handle, both of them pressing their plush breasts together around the shaft as they moved.

Two mouths. Four hands. Two heaving racks. One man lying still, yet overwhelming them effortlessly.

And they kept going, because stopping never even crossed their minds.

“Ahhhhhh…”

“Ohhhhhh…”

“Ughhhhh…”

Both Lea and Chelsea went at it for nearly two relentless hours.

Time seemed to blur as they lost themselves completely in Ross’s dominance, their mouths, hands, and bodies moving in unison with single-minded devotion.

Every flick of their tongues, every press of their palms, every arch of their backs was designed to drive him higher, yet not once did he soften.

His massive fifteen-inch cock stayed impossibly hard, throbbing with a steady heat that neither of them could hope to satiate.

In that relentless stretch of time, their bodies betrayed them in ways they had never experienced before.

Their legs ached from kneeling for so long; their necks burned from the effort of stretching their mouths around him.

Yet still, they continued, driven by a mix of lust, challenge, and the intoxicating thrill of being used so completely by a man who required nothing in return.

Their cries and moans grew hoarse, blending together, echoing off the walls like an anthem of submission and pleasure.

By the second hour, their jeans were soaked and sticky, drenched with their own repeated release.

Their breasts glistened with sweat, heaving with each ragged breath, nipples flushed and sensitive.

Their hands moved with shaky determination, still stroking and caressing, still worshipping him, while their mouths fought to take in what their jaws could barely manage.

The third hour approached, and finally, exhaustion began to creep in like a tide threatening to drown them.

Their muscles trembled uncontrollably, their jaws cramped, their throats raw.

Every attempt to continue brought a fresh wave of pain and pleasure, leaving them trembling on the edge of complete surrender.

“Ohhhhhh…” Chelsea whispered hoarsely, her eyes half-lidded, chest heaving.

“Coming!” Lea cried, her voice high and breathless, almost drowned out by the wet, desperate sounds of their bodies.

For one final, shattering wave, their bodies gave in entirely.

Chelsea arched and shuddered, her hands clutching at the sheets as a surge of bliss ripped through her.

Lea followed almost instantly, her muscles spasming, head tilting back as if trying to hold onto every last bit of sensation.

Their cries mingled, breathless, echoing, and finally, the two sisters collapsed, utterly spent, their bodies trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction.

They lay there side by side, limbs entwined, hair sticking to their sweat-slicked faces, their skin glowing with the aftermath of relentless pleasure.

Each gasp for air felt like lifting a mountain, each heartbeat drummed in their ears with a rhythm that matched their drained, quivering muscles.

Their minds swam with foggy euphoria, memories of every touch and lick lingering like fire across their flesh.

Ross, meanwhile, remained unshaken, untouched by the chaos he had wrought.

He dressed slowly, deliberately, as if each motion were a casual afterthought, and yet he moved with a presence that radiated control and quiet dominance.

“Not today,” he murmured to himself, a faint smile curling across his lips.

Without a backward glance of concern, he stepped toward the door.

He knew exactly what had occurred: the sisters had experienced a glimpse of what it meant to be with him, and that small taste of his size, power, and control was more than enough to leave them utterly dependent.

Their eventual submission was inevitable; their infatuation only required time to fully take hold.

Before leaving, he paused, allowing his eyes to sweep over the two beautiful sisters sprawled across the bed.

Their flushed faces, sweat-matted hair, trembling forms, and gasping breaths were a silent testament to the hold he had over them.

Their bodies still shook in the aftershocks of pleasure, yet he saw the flicker of desire in their eyes—a promise that they would return, drawn by the irresistible gravity of him.

Satisfied, he finally exited the room, leaving them collapsed, weak, and utterly powerless.

The memory of his cock, his dominance, and the sensation of being used so completely lingered in their minds, already planting the seed of obsession that would grow stronger with every thought of him.

The room was silent save for their ragged breathing and the faint, sticky remnants of what they had given.

Every nerve in their bodies was alight, every thought clouded by the overwhelming intensity of the hours they had spent worshipping him.

And as they slowly drifted toward sleep, their exhaustion mixed with longing, leaving them completely at the mercy of their own desire—and at the mercy of Ross.

***

The two sisters woke the next morning to the soft glow of sunlight spilling through the curtains.

Their bodies ached in ways that reminded them of the night before—the lingering burn of overstretched muscles, the heaviness in their limbs, and the tingling that refused to fade from every nerve ending.

They lay side by side for a moment, neither speaking, both lost in the memory of what had happened.

Finally, Lea broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Chelsea… we should just let this go,” she said, her tone cautious, almost pleading.

“There’s nothing we can do anymore. Ross… he’s not someone we could ever hope to take down. Not us, not anyone.” Her words carried the weight of reluctant truth.

The memory of his size, his dominance, and the ease with which he controlled them was still vivid—and terrifying.

Chelsea remained quiet, her fingers tracing absent patterns on the sheets.