Evil MC's NTR Harem Chapter 630 - 630 Staff

"You haven't answered yet, Brenda," Ross reminded her, his voice deep and unhurried, a teasing glint in his eyes as he watched the beautiful woman between his legs.

Brenda seed almost entranced, her gaze fixed on his massive cock, her fingers absentmindedly stroking along his thick shaft without thought.

She looked utterly spellbound, as if the sight of him alone had stolen her ability to think.

It took her a mont to even realize he had spoken.

Blinking rapidly, Brenda shook herself free from the daze, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of sha and helpless arousal.

She lifted her gaze, eting Ross's with a vulnerable look before she swallowed hard, her voice barely more than a desperate whisper.

"No... don't bring my husband into this. Please," she said, her plea soft but genuine, thick with emotion.

Ross said nothing, simply raising an eyebrow slightly, as if amused by her internal struggle. Brenda, flustered and fighting her embarrassnt, quickly returned her attention to the intimidating length before her.

Her soft, delicate hands began moving again, working him with careful, practiced strokes.

She poured all of her skill into her touch, using every trick she knew, every bit of experience she had, in the hopes of forcing him to climax quickly.

She needed him to co. She needed it desperately.

If he finished now, perhaps the haze of lust clouding his judgnt would dissipate, and maybe—just maybe—she and Colleen would have a chance to resist the dangerous grip of their unfortunate situation.

But even as she worked tirelessly, her hands moving with a slow, sensual rhythm, the minutes dragged on.

Five minutes passed.

Then eight.

Then ten.

Brenda's arms were beginning to ache, but she refused to give up, applying even more pressure, stroking harder, faster, squeezing with just the right amount of force.

Her beautiful face, usually so composed, now showed signs of mounting desperation.

She could feel how rock-hard he remained in her grasp, thick veins pulsing beneath her fingers. The sheer size of him was overwhelming.

Her own body betrayed her—her nipples hardened, her breathing quickened, and between her thighs, she could feel the humiliating wetness growing stronger with every second she spent worshipping his massive cock.

She dared to glance up at him again. Ross was still looking down at her with that sa calm, infuriating self-control.

No strain, no tension. He wasn't even close to finishing.

He was just... enjoying himself, savoring her growing desperation.

If it had been her husband under her hands, Brenda thought bitterly, he would have been reduced to a quivering ss in less than three minutes.

The difference was staggering, almost humiliating. Ross's stamina felt almost inhuman, and the longer she touched him, the more she realized just how hopeless their situation was.

By the ti the fifteenth minute passed, Brenda's breathing was ragged, her cheeks burned red with a mixture of frustration and unwanted need.

Her arms were trembling slightly from the effort, but she didn't dare stop.

Deep down, a part of her—the part she didn't want to admit existed—felt an insidious thrill at how unshakable he was, how devastatingly masculine he seed. It was terrifying, yet undeniably arousing.

And Ross...

Ross just smiled down at her, patient and unyielding, as if he had all the ti in the world.

"You'll be spending the rest of the night trying if you think you can make co with just your hands, Brenda," Ross said, his grin slow and wolfish, taunting her.

"I must admit, your hands feel good and heavenly... but that alone won't drive crazy and let loose. You'll have to do better. Otherwise..." he trailed off, his eyes glinting with cruel amusent, "...I'll get bored. And if that happens, maybe I'll turn my attention to lovely Colleen instead."

Brenda froze mid-stroke, her blood running cold.

Slowly, she turned her head toward Colleen, her heart breaking at the sight.

The young woman sat stiffly, her body trembling with fear, her face as white as a sheet.

Tears welled in Colleen's wide, terrified eyes, and she clutched the edge of the couch as if trying to anchor herself in reality.

Her entire body scread desperation, silently begging Brenda to do sothing—anything—to protect her.

Biting her lip hard enough to taste blood, Brenda then looked toward her son.

He stood awkwardly against the far wall, pressed into the corner like he wanted to disappear, his eyes darting everywhere except at her.

His face was a twisted mask of horror, confusion, and helplessness. He shouldn't be seeing this.

No mother would ever want their child to witness such degradation. And yet here she was, exposed, vulnerable, reduced to this.

There was no saving her pride anymore. There was no dignity left to protect.

The only thing she could still salvage was Colleen's innocence—and perhaps, if she acted quickly enough, shield her son from further trauma.

Her mind was made up.

She inhaled shakily, then pushed her sha down deep, burying it beneath a thick layer of grim determination.

"Hmm..." Brenda let out a soft, sultry hum, forcing herself into the role she once knew so well—back when it was born of love, not desperation.

She leaned down, her soft breath caressing Ross's cock before her lips parted and she took him into her mouth.

The thickness of him made it difficult—he filled her mouth, stretching her jaw uncomfortably wide.

She tried to take more, to draw him deeper into her throat, but she gagged slightly and had to pull back, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassnt.

Switching tactics, Brenda used her tongue instead, lapping and licking from the swollen, throbbing head down along the thick, pulsing shaft.

Her hands didn't remain idle; they moved up and down in a steady rhythm, working together with her mouth to stimulate him as much as possible.

Every movent was practiced, deliberate, born from years of knowing exactly how to please a man—but never had she had to do it under such unbearable pressure.