Evil MC's NTR Harem

With every thrust, Ross's erection rubbed insistently against the thin fabric of her panties.

The friction sent teasing, electric jolts of pleasure shooting through her, igniting places she hadn't expected.

Her breath hitched repeatedly, each movement making her more aware of the growing heat pooling low inside her.

The line between acting and feeling blurred.

She tried to remind herself it was all for the cameras, all a scene—but her body didn't listen.

Her fingers curled into the sheets, knuckles white with the tension of it all.

The rhythm, the touch, the teasing sensation grew stronger, wrapping around her senses like a tight coil.

And then—without warning—a rush of warmth exploded through her, sharp and overwhelming.

A trembling shudder ran through her limbs as she climaxed, waves of pleasure washing over her in quick succession.

It wasn't loud or drawn-out—just a sudden, intense release that left her breathless and trembling beneath Ross's weight.

"D!"

Her voice broke free, raw and urgent, calling the name of the man who had managed to bring her to this height of sensation without even fully crossing the line.

Ross paused, their eyes locking again, both breathing heavily.

The intensity of the moment lingered, unspoken and thick in the air around them.

Though they were still performing, something unspoken had passed between them—a spark that neither of them could ignore.

Cara's mind swirled with confusion, exhilaration, and a strange new longing.

The scene was supposed to be just that—a scene.

But in that moment, nothing felt scripted.

Ross gave Cara a few moments—just enough breaths to let her recover from the overwhelming climax that had just shaken her body.

He watched her quietly, noting the way her chest rose and fell, her lips parted slightly as she caught her breath, and her dazed eyes fluttered open like someone waking from a vivid dream.

Then, in a low and gentle voice, he said the magic word.

"Cut."

The word was soft, but it snapped Cara back to reality like a splash of cold water. Her eyes blinked rapidly as awareness returned, and she became acutely conscious of the warmth of Ross's body on top of her, of the sheen of sweat on her skin, of the way her muscles still trembled beneath the blankets.

She turned her head and noticed everyone around them—the camera crew, the assistants, the rest of the cast—staring.

There was silence for a beat too long. Some of the crew looked stunned.

A few looked away awkwardly.

No one could say for certain whether the sounds that came out of Cara were a masterclass in acting… or something more real.

And judging by the red on her cheeks and the faraway look still lingering in her eyes, they weren't entirely sure she knew the answer either.

"Perfect!" Heaven's voice rang out like a bell, breaking the tension in the air.

She strode toward the bed clapping her hands.

"That was a great take, D and Cara! Really intense. That chemistry? Off the charts."

Laughter rippled softly among the crew.

The atmosphere lightened, as if everyone silently agreed not to ask too many questions.

Cara sat up, still a little breathless but grateful for the save.

She glanced at Ross, who had already thrown on a robe and was chatting with one of the cameramen like nothing had happened.

She admired how unbothered he looked, as if he hadn't just rocked her world on-camera without even taking off her clothes.

They went on to shoot a few more scenes together—lighter ones now.

More talking, more smiles, the kind of moments that helped round out a love story.

Scene by scene, take by take, they wrapped up the project by 7 o'clock in the morning.

The sun was already beginning to rise, casting golden light through the villa windows as the final clapperboard snapped shut.

It was done.

But even as they all celebrated with tired grins and congratulatory hugs, Cara couldn't stop replaying that one scene in her head—the scene where everything blurred, where acting started to feel like something else entirely.

The house was glowing in the soft morning light, golden rays spilling through the wide windows and dancing across the marble floors.

It should have felt like a win for Cara—another project completed, another performance to be proud of—but all she could feel was an unsettling mix of warmth and confusion.

She sat at the edge of the bed, still in costume, absentmindedly twisting the ring on her finger that wasn't hers.

The taste of Ross's kiss lingered faintly on her lips, and her body was still sensitive, buzzing with phantom sensations from the earlier scene.

It was just acting.

She repeated the thought in her head like a mantra, but it didn't stop the heat that kept blooming in her chest every time she remembered the way he'd looked at her.

Like she was the only woman in the world.

She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"Hey."

She turned. Corey stood at the door, arms crossed, face unreadable.

He hadn't said a word during the last few scenes.

Not even when they redid the bedroom take from several angles.

He had just watched, jaw clenched, expression like stone.

"Hey…" Cara said, forcing a small smile.

Corey stepped in slowly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just… tired."

There was a pause. He wasn't looking at her—he was staring past her, probably imagining Ross's hands on her again.

She could feel the weight of his jealousy pressing into the room.

"It was acting," she added, quieter now.

"I know," Corey said. His tone wasn't angry, but it wasn't forgiving either.

"It just didn't look like acting."

Cara opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Because in a way… he was right. She hadn't meant for it to feel that real either.

She couldn't explain why her body responded the way it did, why the friction alone had sent her over the edge.

She couldn't even meet his eyes.

Cara took a deep breath knowing that she had a lot of thinking to do in the coming days.