Evil MC's NTR Harem-Chapter 611 - Forum

Ross took his wives one by one, with fierce, unrelenting passion, his touch setting skin ablaze. But to Jade, he gave something more—his undivided attention, a deeper, more intense kind of desire. He knew what she was up against.

Ross hadn't missed the way her eyes had darkened when she spoke of Thomas Jones, the way her voice had tightened. That man had stirred something in her, and while Ross trusted Jade, he also understood temptation.

So tonight, he made sure she felt it—his love, his claim, his fire.

By the time Jade lay beneath him again, her legs wrapped around him, her fingers tangled in his hair, she wasn't thinking of Thomas Jones at all.

***

"Ross, stop now—I'm going to be late. I really need to go," Jade said with a breathless smile, pushing lightly at his chest.

Ross didn't stop immediately. He never did. Instead, he looked down at her with that feral glint in his eyes, the same one that never failed to make her shiver.

He thrust again, deep and firm, like he was branding her, claiming her, memorizing every last inch of her before letting her go.

Jade gasped softly, her fingers tightening around his shoulders. She had been the last one he took this morning, just as he always did. It was unspoken, but everyone knew—Ross saved her for last.

The others joked about it sometimes, calling her the dessert after the feast. Jade never said anything, but deep down, she felt a guilty satisfaction from that special attention.

He was wild this morning—rough, intense, as though he needed to remind her of something. And Jade knew exactly what it was.

Thomas.

Ross hadn't said a word about him, hadn't questioned her or acted jealous. But he didn't need to. His actions spoke volumes. Every kiss, every thrust, every moment of last night and this morning had been deliberate. It wasn't just love—it was a claim. A reminder of who she belonged to.

Finally, Ross gave in.

"Okay," he murmured, voice heavy with restraint. Then, with a low groan, he let himself go.

He poured himself into her, body trembling with the intensity of his release.

Jade felt it—warm and overwhelming—as it filled her to the brim. There was so much, more than she could hold, and by the time he pulled out, it was already spilling down her thighs and soaking the sheets beneath them.

She was used to this by now. This was Ross. This was how he made love—without holding back, without filters.

Jade sat up slowly, her body still pulsing from the aftershocks, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. "I love you," she whispered, brushing a strand of his messy hair away from his face.

"I know," he said, his smile lazy and smug, but there was tenderness in his eyes.

She stood up, moving a little stiffly, and headed for the washroom. Steam quickly filled the space as she turned on the hot water, stepping into the shower and letting it wash away the night's intensity.

She hadn't slept at all—not even a minute—but strangely, she didn't feel tired. Her limbs were limber, her head clear, her heartbeat steady and strong.

At first, this had alarmed her. But now, it was just normal. The other wives had mentioned it too—how their bodies felt younger, stronger, almost unnatural. They rarely caught colds, never felt drained, and could go night after night without sleep.

When Jade had confronted Ross about it, he'd just shrugged and said, "It's the food."

The food.

She didn't know whether to laugh or be impressed. According to him, it all started years ago when he'd helped a ragged old beggar on the street. In exchange, the man had taught him ancient techniques—some kind of magical medical arts long forgotten by the modern world.

Ross had turned those strange skills into something else entirely. Now, he could manipulate the body in ways that defied science—boosting strength, healing minor wounds overnight, even controlling fertility with nothing more than a touch. Not even birth control pills stood a chance or were needed anymore.

She had once asked him if he ever used those abilities to make her fall for him. He had just grinned and said, "No need."

Now, freshly dressed and glowing, Jade stepped out of the bathroom. She was in her power suit—sleek black trousers, a fitted white blouse, and heels that made her legs look a mile long. Her hair was tied in a neat ponytail, and her makeup was sharp but elegant. She looked ready to conquer the world.

In truth, she felt that way too.

As she picked up her bag and headed for the door, she paused, glancing back at Ross still sprawled in bed, one arm behind his head, watching her with a lazy smirk.

"Wish me luck," she said.

"You don't need luck. Just remember—no matter who's in that room today, you're already mine."

She rolled her eyes but smiled. "Possessive much?"

"Always," he replied without hesitation.

Jade left the room, her heart light and her stride confident.

As she stepped into the elevator, Thomas Jones's face flickered in her mind. He was handsome, smooth-talking, confident in a way that might have made her heart flutter not too long ago. But today? Today she was grounded, centered, claimed.

Ross had made sure of that.

No matter how charming Thomas was, Jade knew one thing for sure—he wouldn't affect her the same way again. Not after last night.

Ross hadn't just made love to her. He had made her remember.

And she was ready to face anything.

An hour later, Jade found herself face to face with Thomas once again.

He was still the same—tall, confident, and devastatingly handsome, exuding a natural charisma that made heads turn the moment he walked into a room.

He had the kind of presence that felt almost unfair, like a walking embodiment of seduction. Women around him seemed to breathe differently, smile wider, laugh more.

But today, Jade was different.