Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 438

Chapter 438: Chapter 438 Hill
Rachel’s tone was inviting but not pushy, the perfect blend of casual and suggestive.

Just enough to make it seem like an afterthought—like he could say no, but why would he?

She watched him carefully, waiting for his reaction.

Ross Oakley wasn’t a man who was easily swayed.

But Rachel was done playing it safe. If she wanted to get closer to him, she would have to step up her game.

Ross leaned back slightly, studying her with amusement.

Then, in a slow, teasing tone, he asked, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Rachel? Because if you’re not, and you’re just leading me on for nothing, then no thanks. I’d rather spend my time with my wives and family than waste it here.”

His words were playful, but his eyes held a knowing glint.

He already knew how this night would end.

Rachel smirked, undeterred.

“You won’t know until you come up.”

With that, she turned and walked away, her hips swaying just enough to make it clear that the invitation was very real.

She didn’t look back, but she left the door open—an obvious sign that she expected him to follow.

Ross chuckled softly. She thinks she’s in control.

He took the dare and followed her upstairs.

They arrived at a spacious, well-furnished condo.

Ross took a quick glance around, already certain that the place was wired with surveillance equipment.

Cameras, microphones—probably placed in strategic locations to catch every movement, every word.

He didn’t care.

Rachel might think she was leading him into a trap, but in reality, she had walked straight into his.

“You’ve got a nice place here, Rachel,” Ross said, pretending to be impressed as he looked around.

“Your novels must be a big hit if you can afford a place like this.”

Rachel smiled, playing along. Her cover story was that she was an author—a successful one, at that.

“It’s something, at least. I’m proud of it,” she said smoothly.

“Should be,” Ross replied.

She walked to the kitchen. “Do you want something? Coffee?”

“No, I’m good,” Ross said, settling onto the sofa. “Still full from what we had earlier.”

Rachel nodded, but she wasn’t focused on coffee.

She was focused on him.

And tonight, she had no intention of letting him slip through her fingers again.

“A movie, perhaps?” Rachel suggested, her tone light and casual.

“Sure,” Ross agreed.

She scrolled through the options before selecting a romance film—one filled with slow-burning tension, passionate kisses, and more than a few intimate scenes.

It was the perfect choice. Nothing too obvious, yet suggestive enough to create an atmosphere.

As the movie played, they talked in between scenes, their conversation effortless, as if they had known each other for years.

Their social skills were on full display—both of them masters at reading between the lines, keeping things engaging without ever crossing into uncomfortable territory.

The chemistry was there. That much was undeniable.

By the third sex scene, Rachel noticed Ross shifting slightly beside her.

Then, his arm moved, resting casually around her shoulder. The touch was natural, unforced—like something a longtime lover might do without thinking.

She let it happen.

A minute later, his other hand found its way to her thigh, his fingers warm against the smooth skin exposed by her dress.

Rachel remained still, her breathing controlled, her body language giving nothing away.

She had worn this red dress for a reason—it was elegant but undeniably seductive, the way it hugged her curves and emphasized every dip and swell of her body.

Ross’s fingers traced slow, deliberate circles on her thigh, a touch that was light yet firm, testing her reaction.

And she gave him none.

He took that as permission.

His hand slid further beneath her dress, inching toward the soft skin of her inner thigh.

The anticipation was electric, and for a moment, Rachel let herself feel it—the slow build-up, the way her skin tingled under his touch.

Then, just as his fingers were about to graze the thin fabric of her panties, she stopped him.

Her hand caught his wrist, firm but not forceful.

“Stop,” she murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Her expression was unreadable, but her lips curled into a teasing smile.

“Let me take care of you instead.”

Before he could respond, Rachel shifted, slipping gracefully to her knees between his legs.

Her fingers moved with practiced ease, unbuckling his belt, then pulling down his pants in one smooth motion.

And then she froze.

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at what lay before her.

Oh my god…

A flicker of shock flashed across her face, though she quickly composed herself.

Even flaccid, Ross was enormous—longer and thicker than any man she had ever been with. Even bigger than Jimmy at full arousal.

How is it this big… even when it’s not hard?!

For the first time that night, Rachel felt genuinely unsettled.

She had gone into this thinking she was in control.

Now, she wasn’t so sure.

Ross chuckled, leaning back into the sofa like a king on his throne.

He spread his arms along the backrest, exuding effortless dominance.

His expression was amused, patient—like a predator watching his prey decide whether to flee or submit.

“I know,” he said, his voice laced with amusement.

“My wives all had the same reaction you’re having now, Rachel. I guess I’m just an extremely lucky man, eh?”

He made no move to rush her, nor did he push her to continue.

Instead, he simply watched, waiting to see how far she was willing to take this act.

Because that’s all it was—an act.

Ross knew exactly why she was here, what she was after.

Rachel wanted to get close to him, to slip into his inner circle under the guise of seduction.

She thought she was the one in control, that this was her game to play.

He was willing to entertain that notion—for now.

If she wanted to spy on him, to try and unravel his secrets, he would allow it as she wished.