Evil MC's NTR Harem

"Noooooooo!" Peter Montgomery screamed silently in his mind the moment Ross pressed the attack. It had all started with a kiss. Ross’s lips claimed Maya’s with an arrogance that made Peter’s blood boil.

At first, she stiffened, her entire body radiating resistance. Peter clung to that, praying she’d push him away, that she’d fight back.

But then, something shifted. It was subtle at first—a flicker of hesitation in her eyes, a momentary stillness.

Ross whispered something Peter couldn’t hear, and Maya’s resolve crumbled. Her lips, once unyielding, began to move hesitantly against his. She kissed him back.

It wasn’t passionate or full of longing; it was tentative, restrained, as if she were forcing herself to go through the motions.

Peter’s chest tightened as the realization hit him like a sledgehammer. She’s doing this for me. The words echoed in his mind, a cruel mantra he couldn’t escape.

Maya wasn’t surrendering because she wanted Ross. She was sacrificing herself, enduring this humiliation to protect him.

Bound and powerless, Peter could only watch, his heart breaking with every passing second. He pulled against his restraints until his wrists burned, but the ropes held firm.

Tears welled in his eyes, and he hated himself for them. He hated his weakness, his inability to stop this nightmare. If only I were stronger, braver… anything but this useless shell of a man.

Ross, meanwhile, seemed to revel in Peter’s agony. He broke the kiss with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction. Then, with agonizing slowness, he turned his attention elsewhere.

His hands moved over Maya’s body like a conqueror claiming his prize. He tugged at the straps of her dress, his fingers brushing against her skin. Maya flinched but didn’t resist. The dress slipped from her shoulders, pooling at her feet in a silken heap.

Peter’s breath hitched. Maya stood there, exposed and vulnerable, her toned, athletic figure on full display. Her body was a masterpiece of contrasts—sleek, defined abs adorning her stomach, yet her full, voluptuous curves left little to the imagination.

Ross’s smirk deepened as he reached behind her, unhooking her bra with practiced ease. The garment joined her dress on the floor, unveiling her bare chest.

Peter’s gaze was drawn to her "twin treasures," as obscene as the thought felt. They were impossibly perfect, their lewd, ripe shape practically daring the world to look.

Ross wasted no time, his hands claiming one breast while his mouth latched greedily onto the other. His lips wrapped around her taut, pink nipple, sucking with an intensity that made Peter’s stomach churn.

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Maya’s face was unreadable, a mask of cold detachment, but Peter could see the faint quiver in her jaw, the tension in her shoulders.

The sight was too much to bear. Peter’s mind reeled, a whirlwind of despair, fury, and self-loathing. "This isn’t happening! It can’t be real!" he screamed internally. But no matter how hard he tried to will it away, the scene played on, mocking his impotence.

Maya had been his—or at least, he’d thought she would be. He’d dreamed of a future together, of holding her close and protecting her from harm. But those dreams now lay shattered at his feet, trampled under Ross’s heel.

And yet, Peter couldn’t look away. He was trapped, forced to witness every moment of his worst nightmare. His heart begged for this to end, but deep down, he knew the truth.

Wishes were for fools, and no amount of pleading would change the cruel reality before him.

"Stop…" Maya’s voice trembled, breaking on the single word as though the effort to speak it drained her completely. Her plea hung in the air, fragile and unheeded. Ross didn’t even pause. His hands moved with predatory intent, his focus entirely on her as if nothing else existed.

Maya’s heart pounded in her chest, a deafening rhythm of fear and shame. Her body quivered, not from desire but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that weighed on her like chains. Yet, to her horror, her body betrayed her in the cruelest way possible.

A heat she couldn’t control spread through her, pooling low in her belly. The unbearable dampness of her thong clung to her like a brand, mocking her with its presence.

Her cheeks flushed crimson as Ross continued. The straps of her dress slid lower and lower, his hands brushing her skin in a way that sent unwanted shivers coursing through her.

The fabric pooled at her feet, leaving her standing in nothing but the soaked piece of lace that barely concealed her most intimate self.

Ross took his time, savoring every moment. With deliberate ease, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her thong and pulled it down, stripping her of the last barrier.

It felt like time slowed, each second dragging as Maya stood exposed and vulnerable, completely bare before him.

Peter’s muffled cry broke through the silence. Bound and powerless, he strained against his restraints with every ounce of strength he had, but it was futile.

His wrists were raw from his struggles, the ropes biting into his skin. His voice, though muted, carried the rage and anguish of a man witnessing his worst nightmare.

His eyes locked on Maya, his breath hitching painfully in his throat. She was perfect, heartbreakingly so. Her toned, athletic figure, sculpted from years of dedication, stood illuminated under the dim light. His gaze involuntarily traveled lower, to the place she’d always kept hidden.

Her pussy was exposed, smooth and bare, its pink folds glistening with an unwanted arousal she couldn’t control. A single bead of moisture trailed downward, betraying her body’s response to the humiliation.

It flowed like a cruel testament to her vulnerability, pooling briefly at her tight, untouched entrance before continuing its descent, tracing the curve of her firm, rounded bottom.

Peter’s mind reeled. He had seen many women before, bedded them even, but this—this was different. Maya had always been the one, the woman he dreamed of, the woman he wanted to protect. Yet now, her most sacred self was laid bare not for him, but for Ross.

His stomach churned, rage and despair battling for dominance.

"Fuck you, Ross," he screamed in his mind, his silent curses almost primal in their intensity. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his heart a fractured mess of emotions.

He couldn’t look away, no matter how much he wanted to, no matter how much it hurt.

Ross, in stark contrast, moved with an air of triumph. His hands roamed over Maya’s exposed form, his fingers tracing the lines of her body as if committing them to memory.

He cupped her hips, pulling her closer, his smirk widening as he drank in the sight of her.

Maya’s gaze remained fixed on the floor, her expression distant and unreadable. Peter could see the tension in her jaw, the way her hands trembled at her sides. She was fighting to stay composed, to keep from breaking under the weight of it all. But Peter could see the cracks forming, the subtle quivers that betrayed her fear and humiliation.

Ross leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered something Peter couldn’t hear. Whatever it was made Maya flinch, her shoulders stiffening as a tear slid down her cheek. The sight was like a dagger to Peter’s heart, twisting cruelly as he struggled once more against his bonds.

"This isn’t how it was supposed to be," Peter thought bitterly, his mind racing. He had dreamed of a future with Maya—of holding her, protecting her, loving her. Those dreams now lay in tatters, crushed beneath Ross’s heel.

And yet, Peter couldn’t stop watching. He was trapped, forced to witness every second of this living nightmare. He wanted to scream, to tear his restraints apart and shield Maya from Ross’s touch.

And then it happened.

Maya moved, her body trembling as if resisting her own actions. Slowly, reluctantly, her hands lowered, guided by some silent command Ross had whispered moments before. Peter’s breath caught in his throat as he watched her trembling fingers reach her most private place.

With a hesitance that spoke of her shame and despair, Maya spread her folds apart, exposing herself completely. Peter’s heart sank as the sight before him felt like both a revelation and a betrayal.

There it was—like a treasure hidden away, untouched and unclaimed. The thin membrane guarding the path deeper into her core glistened under the dim light of the room. Her hymen, delicate and fragile, stood as undeniable proof of her innocence, a final barrier that had yet to be crossed.

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