Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1102: Chapter 1102 Literal

Chelsea had replayed every moment over and over in her mind, the sounds, the smells, the overwhelming sensation of him.

Her heart raced at the thought, but she forced herself to exhale slowly, nodding finally.

“I… I guess you’re right, Lea,” she admitted, her voice soft, tinged with a mixture of resignation and longing. “There’s nothing we can do. We… we have to accept it.”

For days, the two sisters went through their routine, the memory of Ross simmering just beneath the surface.

Every time Chelsea closed her eyes, she could feel his weight, the hard, unyielding presence that had left them both so helpless.

Every time Lea thought of him, her mind betrayed her with flashes of the way he had made them feel—completely consumed and utterly powerless.

A week passed in this uneasy rhythm.

Their desire, suppressed but unyielding, drew them together again in secret.

The room they met in was quiet, far removed from prying eyes.

The air between them was thick with anticipation, the tension almost painful.

Chelsea’s eyes were fixed on Lea’s, her gaze steady, her lips curved in a mixture of daring and need. “Lea… I’ve been thinking,” she began, her voice low, almost trembling.

“I… I’m going to try again. I can’t stop thinking about him. About… what it felt like.” Her fingers flexed nervously as she spoke, betraying the storm inside her.

“I’m going to make Ross come—and this time… this time, I’ll take him deep inside me. I’ll fuck him.”

Lea’s eyes went wide, a flicker of shock crossing her face.

She swallowed hard, trying to process her sister’s confession.

“You… you mean it? You’re really going to do that?” Her voice was barely audible, caught somewhere between fear, disbelief, and an undeniable surge of curiosity.

Chelsea met her gaze unwaveringly, a faint, wicked smile tugging at her lips.

“Yes,” she said simply, though the words carried the weight of something she had been silently craving for days. “I… I need to. I can’t ignore it anymore. My body just feels hot just thinking about him. I might as well make use of this.”

Lea’s chest tightened, and a shiver ran down her spine.

She felt a strange mixture of dread and excitement, a tension coiling inside her that made her palms sweat.

She didn’t know whether she should try to stop Chelsea or silently encourage her—but deep down, she already knew there was no turning back.

Ross had changed everything for them, and the pull of his presence, the memory of his dominance, had woven into their minds and bodies in ways that were impossible to resist.

Chelsea’s gaze softened slightly as she reached out to touch her sister’s hand.

“I know it sounds crazy, Lea… but we’ve already crossed that line. We’ve felt it. Now… we just need to see how far it goes. How far we can go.”

Lea swallowed again, her thoughts spinning.

Every nerve ending in her body hummed with remembered sensation, her skin still tingling with the ghost of Ross’s touch.

She hesitated, heart racing, yet found herself nodding slowly.

“Okay… okay, Chelsea. But… be careful,” she whispered, though the words lacked conviction.

Both of them knew that caution was meaningless in the face of him.

A tense silence settled over them, punctuated only by their uneven breathing.

Both sisters were acutely aware of the unspoken truth: their lives, their desires, their bodies—all of it—had been irrevocably altered by Ross.

And now, standing on the edge of surrender once more, neither of them could say no to the pull that would lead them inevitably back to him.

The two sisters sat close together in the dim glow of the room, the silence between them heavy with unspoken anticipation.

Every sound—the soft tick of a clock, the distant hum of the city outside—seemed to grow louder, magnifying the tension that clung to them.

Lea glanced at Chelsea, her expression a mixture of curiosity, concern, and the slightest spark of excitement.

“So… when are you planning to text Ross?” she asked cautiously, twisting her fingers in her lap.

Chelsea swallowed hard, her pulse quickening at the thought.

“Tonight… at midnight,” she whispered, her voice barely audible even to herself.

She stared down at her hands, her fingers trembling slightly.

The weight of what they were about to do pressed on her chest, but beneath it, an undeniable thrill stirred.

For several moments, neither of them spoke.

The memory of the previous night lingered in their minds—the overwhelming sensation of Ross’s body, the heat, the tension, the strange mixture of fear and excitement.

It had left an imprint on them, one that neither time nor rational thought could erase.

When the night finally came, Chelsea’s nerves were taut.

She had planned for Ross to arrive at midnight, but when a knock came at her door, she jumped.

An hour early. Her stomach fluttered, a mix of confusion and excitement twisting inside her.

Hesitating for a moment, she opened the door—and froze.

Standing there wasn’t Ross. It was Lea. Chelsea’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice filled with relief and astonishment.

Lea smiled, calm and resolute.

“I’m your sister,” she said softly, yet with quiet determination.

“I realized something. We started this together… and we’re going to finish it together, too.”

Chelsea’s chest tightened.

Without thinking, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around her sister in a firm, almost desperate embrace.

Lea returned it just as tightly, their hearts beating in unison, drawing strength from one another.

For a moment, the room seemed suspended in time.

Every second stretched, charged with unspoken understanding and anticipation.

They stayed that way for several minutes, breathing each other in, feeling the warmth and weight of shared purpose.

Each sister knew that once Ross arrived, nothing would be the same again.

Their bodies tingled in anticipation, a mixture of nerves, excitement, and the echo of the sensations from before.

Finally, the long-anticipated knock of his arrival came, and Ross stepped into the room silently.

The sisters froze for a heartbeat, caught between dread and desire.

His presence was commanding, overwhelming, filling the small space with a quiet authority that made the hairs on their arms stand on end.