Evil MC's NTR Harem - Chapter 668

Chapter 668: Chapter 668 Engineer
“It’s been a busy day.” Ross said slowly, turning his attention to the sky above.

It was dark—almost pitch black—with just a handful of faint stars dotting the heavens.

The moonlight barely shimmered over the ocean, and the soft slapping of waves against the shore created a calming, rhythmic melody.

It wasn’t loud, just present enough to fill the silence with a gentle hum. The air was cool, salty, and still.

Ross took a deep breath, letting the atmosphere settle over him.

It was the kind of night that felt suspended in time—quiet, heavy with things unsaid.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

They just sat there in the silence, letting it stretch between them like a fragile thread.

Then Kristine shifted slightly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Her voice broke the stillness.

“Where’s Sasha, by the way?” she asked, her tone casual but curious.

“Sleeping,” Ross replied without looking at her. “The drinks got to her quick. Her alcohol tolerance is ridiculously low. Two glasses and she was out cold.”

Kristine chuckled softly. “Yeah… it’s not her strong suit at all.” She smiled to herself, picturing Sasha already curled up somewhere, knocked out without a care in the world.

Then, as if something occurred to her, she turned to him again.

“You know… I’ve always wondered something,” she began.

Ross glanced at her. “Go on.”

“How do you do it?” she asked, her tone a little more serious now.

“Do what?” he raised a brow, curiosity flickering in his eyes.

Kristine looked at him more directly now. “How do you manage to spend quality time with Sasha… even though you already have so many wives? Doesn’t it get overwhelming? Don’t the others feel like they’re not getting enough of you anymore?”

Her voice was a blend of genuine curiosity and something more personal—something a little vulnerable. Maybe she wasn’t just asking for Sasha’s sake.

Ross leaned back slightly, thoughtful for a moment, then gave a low chuckle. “I won’t lie. It’s not easy. But I do my best. Always have.”

“And that’s enough?”

“It has to be,” Ross said. Then, with that signature smirk of his, he added, “Besides, none of them are complaining. I make sure of that. When I’m with them, I make damn sure they know they’re mine. I give them everything—time, attention, affection… and more. I fuck them till they beg me to stop. Days on end, if that’s what it takes. By the end of it, they’re sore as hell, but they’re smiling.”

Kristine blinked, letting that image sit with her. It was blunt. Crude, even. But it was Ross. She shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Okay,” she said simply.

She looked back at the ocean, the waves rolling in and out like they had for centuries.

Ross’s words echoed in her mind—not just what he said, but the confidence behind them.

There was something strangely reassuring about his honesty, even if it was raw.

She thought maybe that was part of his appeal. He didn’t pretend. He didn’t dress things up. He just said it as it was.

Maybe… that’s what Sasha liked about him.

And maybe, Kristine was starting to understand it too.

Another long silence settled between them, dense and heavy with unspoken thoughts.

The night stretched out around them, still and quiet, broken only by the soft, steady rhythm of waves lapping the shore.

The salty breeze kissed their skin, and the moon hung low above the water like a watchful eye, casting silver light across the sand.

Ross stood quietly for a moment, eyes on the horizon—but his mind wasn’t on the stars.

He didn’t need words to understand the moment.

He could feel it—thick in the air, palpable in the silence between them.

Kristine hadn’t moved away. She hadn’t excused herself or changed the subject.

That told him everything he needed to know.

And Ross wouldn’t be Ross if he didn’t take the opening laid before him.

Without fanfare, he reached over and placed one hand gently on Kristine’s back.

His touch was warm, deliberate—firm, but not forceful.

Kristine froze, every hair on her body rising at once.

The contact sent a shiver down her spine, not from fear or hesitation, but from something far deeper—an aching, long-suppressed hunger she hadn’t realized was still alive.

She didn’t stop him. She didn’t even look at him.

She just sat still, her breath slowing, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Ross’s hand drifted lower, tracing the soft curve of her back.

Then, bold and unhurried, his large palm settled on the roundness of her ass, fingers curling through the fabric of her flowing azure maxi dress.

Kristine’s lips parted slightly. Her body betrayed her—nipples hardening under her dress, her thighs tightening involuntarily, and the dull throb of desire beginning to pulse between her legs.

God, it felt good. It felt right. And it had been so, so long.

Her husband hadn’t touched her in months—not since the loss in the NBA Finals.

It wasn’t just physical distance anymore; it was emotional, too.

The man who once worshipped her with his hands and mouth had become distant, defeated.

Ever since that night, he hadn’t been able to get hard, let alone make love to her.

He’d changed. And she had tried to endure it—to be understanding, to hope—but she was still a woman, and her body still ached for the kind of attention it used to know.

So when Ross’s fingers brushed gently between her thighs, even through the thin barrier of her dress, she couldn’t suppress the quiet moan that slipped from her lips.

“Ross…” she whispered, breath catching, trying to will herself back to reason.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hand explored more boldly now, his long fingers applying just enough pressure to let her feel every movement—every intention.

She closed her eyes. She had been drinking earlier, but she wasn’t drunk. Not like Sasha.

Her head was still clear, her judgment intact. That was the problem—she knew exactly what was happening. And she wasn’t stopping it.