Evil MC's NTR Harem

Chapter 1197: Chapter 1197 Pilot

Bella was terrified that tonight, something would finally happen—something irreversible.

Something that would break her husband in a way that apologies and explanations could never fix.

As the sky darkened and night crept in, Bella felt it again—the familiar pressure rising inside her, faster and stronger than before.

Her heart began to race.

She knew then that her fears had not been exaggerated.

Night came.

And with it, Bella’s worst fears were realized.

Sebastian’s eyes snapped open at the soft, desperate sound escaping Bella’s lips.

The cave was hushed except for the faint rustle of the makeshift bed and the distant howl of wind in the forest around them.

He’d only meant to rest his eyes for a moment—days of relentless vigilance had worn him down to the bone—but now the scene in front of him sharpened into something raw and urgent.

Bella was astride Ross, her hips rolling in slow, instinctive waves.

The thermal armor still clung to her legs, but she’d peeled the upper half down to her waist in one frantic motion, exposing the flushed skin of her chest and stomach to the cool air.

Her hands braced against Ross’s broad shoulders, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she ground down, chasing the pressure that her fevered body demanded.

"Ahhh..." The moan spilled from her again, low and broken, her head tipping back, dark hair cascading like a veil.

Ross lay beneath her, chest rising and falling in the deep, even rhythm of sleep.

Gentle snores rumbled from his throat, oblivious to the heat pressed against him, to the way Bella’s bare breasts brushed his shirt with every desperate roll of her hips.

Exhaustion had finally claimed him too; he’d carried her back to bed after her latest episode of restless wandering, muscles straining under her weight, and collapsed the moment his head hit the pillow.

Sebastian sat frozen on the edge of the bed, pulse thudding hard in his ears.

He’d seen her like this before—lost to the mutated whatever side effect was inside her, burning with a need that stripped away reason and left only instinct.

They’d never managed it with the suits, with distance, with cold restraint.

She was just too clingy with Ross when the moment arrived.

But tonight she’d stripped half-naked on her own, and Ross—poor, drained Ross—was dead to the world beneath her.

Bella’s movements grew more urgent.

A frustrated whimper escaped her when the friction through the remaining armor and Ross’s clothes wasn’t enough.

Her hands slid down his chest, fumbling at the hem of his shirt, trying to push it up, skin seeking skin.

She leaned forward, lips brushing the stubble along his jaw, breath coming in hot, uneven pants.

Sebastian’s mouth went dry. He should stop her.

Should wake Ross, pull her away, wrestle the suit back over her before she did something none of them could take back once the fever broke and clarity returned.

But his body betrayed him.

Heat coiled low in his gut as he watched her arch and grind, watched the way her thighs trembled with need.

The air smelled of her—sweat and fever and something sweeter, something that clawed at his restraint.

He shifted closer without thinking, the mattress dipping under his weight.

Bella’s head turned toward the movement, eyes glazed and dark, lips parted.

Recognition flickered somewhere beneath the haze; she knew him, even like this.

"Seb..." she breathed, voice cracking.

One hand left Ross’s chest and reached for him, fingers trembling in the air between them.

Sebastian’s hand trembled in mid-air, inches from Bella’s sweat-slick shoulder.

He wanted nothing more than to drag her off Ross, to wrap her in his arms and whisper that it would be all right, the way he had every night for a week.

But he remembered the blistering heat of her skin the last time he’d tried—how his palm had seared raw in seconds, the angry red welt lasting days.

The side effect of the medicine had turned her into something untouchable, a living flame that would burn anyone who tried to hold her too close.

He curled his fingers into a fist and let his arm drop to his side, helpless.

Bella knew. Of course she knew.

Even through the red haze clouding her mind, she felt the barrier between them as keenly as he did.

Her fever-glazed eyes met his for one heartbreaking second—guilt, apology, raw desperation all tangled together—before she tore her gaze away.

She couldn’t have Sebastian tonight. Couldn’t risk hurting him again.

But the need was a living thing inside her, clawing at her ribs, flooding her veins with liquid fire.

If she didn’t come soon, she would shatter.

So she turned her attention downward, to the broad, sleeping body beneath her.

Ross.

She hated him with every rational part of her that still existed.

Hated the smug tilt of his mouth a week ago when he’d pinned her against the wall and taken her hard and deep, fifteen merciless inches driving into her until she’d sobbed his name.

Hated how he’d stretched her in ways Sebastian—gentle, careful Sebastian—never had, never would.

Hated how her body had betrayed her then, clenching around him, coming harder than she ever had in her life.

And hated most of all that some dark, secret part of her had loved it.

Now, night after night, the fever brought those memories roaring back, twisting them into torment.

Ross always seemed to be there when the episodes hit hardest—conveniently asleep, conveniently available—while Sebastian watched, powerless.

It felt deliberate.

Like Ross was toying with them both, dangling the one thing that could ease her agony just out of Sebastian’s reach, forcing her to crawl to him instead.

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

But gods, she was so close to breaking.

"Bella!" Sebastian’s voice cracked beside her, sharp with warning and anguish. She barely heard it over the roar in her ears.

Bella was already in a place where only a big, fat, long cock could reach her.