NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 114

Chapter 114: Teasing a Mommy

The moment she had woken up, she knew she was fucked. And not in the fun, “good morning, let’s go for round four” kind of way. No, this was the ‘holy shit, my legs are jelly, and I might need a goddamn wheelchair’ kind of way.

Sitting up had been a battle. Moving had been an outright war. Every shift, every flex of her thighs had sent aftershocks rippling through her, leaving her biting her lip so hard she thought she might draw blood.

And the worst part?

She didn’t regret a single second of it.

The embarrassment was unbearable. How the hell was she supposed to look him in the eye when her body still ached in places she hadn’t even known could ache?

Her fingers dug into the spoon.

‘Why the fuck did he leave?’

She should feel relieved, right? Shouldn’t she be happy that she didn’t have to deal with his smug face gloating over how thoroughly he destroyed her last night?

But instead, all she felt was annoyed.

And maybe, just maybe, a little bit disappointed.

“…”

“…”

She wanted to see him.

That was the damn truth, even if she hated admitting it to herself. She wanted to see his stupid, cocky face.

Wanted to see that smug-ass smile—the one that always made her want to slap him and kiss him in the same breath.

And when she finally did see him, when her eyes landed on him in the living room, knuckle-deep in Nadia’s ass, her brain just… shut down.

Blank. Static. Critical error.

Not a single goddamn thought in her head.

She should have screamed, should have at least said something, but all she could do was stand there, red-faced, watching the absolute degeneracy unfold before her.

And why the fuck did it make her feel so… shy?

She should have expected this, right? It’s Artis. Of course, he was up to something depraved.

Still, seeing him like that—seeing Nadia bent over, his fingers pumping into her like he was playing a damn instrument—was somehow too much and not enough at the same time.

And now, he was gone.

Juliana swallowed, her throat suddenly dry.

He had to be coming here next. Right? That bastard always sought her out eventually. He lived to see her flustered.

She hesitated, then finally put the spoon down, her hands shaking just a little. With a deep breath, she turned toward the entrance of the kitchen, eyes scanning, anticipation creeping up her spine.

Nothing.

The kitchen was empty.

Her stomach twisted with something she didn’t want to name. Disappointment? Relief? A confusing mix of both?

She sighed, half telling herself she should be grateful he wasn’t here to witness her staring at him like some desperate schoolgirl.

But then—

“Looking for someone?”

The deep, familiar voice poured into her ear like sin, and her entire body jumped so violently she nearly knocked over the damn pot.

“Ahhh—!”

Juliana spun around so fast her hair whipped her own face, her hands flying to clutch her ample chest as if her tits might pop off from the sheer force of her shock.

And there he was.

Artis.

Standing right the fuck behind her, grinning like the smug, insufferable bastard he was.

“A-A-A-Artis?!” she stammered, her voice embarrassingly high-pitched. “I-I—”

She couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Her heart was pounding, her skin burning, and fuck, she could feel the heat rolling off her body like she was about to combust.

And he?

He just stood there, watching her, eyes dark with amusement, taking slow, deliberate steps forward like a predator closing in on his prey.

She wanted to move. She should move.

Turn around. Run. Throw a goddamn spoon at his face.

But her feet refused to cooperate, her legs locking up as he came closer.

And by the time she even thought to react—

He was already in front of her.

“I-uhhh…”

Her voice betrayed her.

She took a step back, but the bastard was on her like a wolf scenting weakness—closing the distance with two slow, deliberate strides.

He was enjoying this. Of course, he was.

The sheer cockiness in his smirk made her want to throw something at him… and maybe also throw herself at him. Goddammit.

“I what? Who were you looking for, Mommy?”

The way he said her name made her toes curl, and she hated that. Hated how he was so cool and composed while she was standing there like a flustered, hormonal mess.

She had no reason to be like this! It wasn’t like they hadn’t just spent last night fucking like wild animals.

But then again…

Last night, he was buried so deep inside her that she saw god.

And now, he was looking at her like he wanted to give her a second spiritual awakening.

“N-no one… yes… no one…”

She stammered, wishing she could throttle herself for how pathetic that sounded.

His lips curled into that damn smirk—the one that made her knees weak and her sanity crumble.

“Is that so?”

He took another step forward, and before she even realized it, she was retreating again, trying to escape—

Until—

THUMP.

Her ass hit the counter.

And not just hit it—spread on it.

Trapped.

The cold wood pressed against her backside as she gripped the edge, as if somehow, she could push herself through the solid surface and disappear into another dimension. One where Artis wasn’t standing in front of her looking like the physical embodiment of sin.

“Y-yes…”

She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper.

Fucking hell.

Her cheeks were hot enough to fry an egg, and her eyes darted around wildly, searching for anything else to focus on—anything but his stupidly handsome face and those dangerous, knowing eyes.

Because if she looked at him for too long…

If she met his gaze and fell into those dark, mischievous eyes…

She knew she’d melt into a helpless, wet puddle.

Just like the one she made on the table last night.

He took another step forward, closing the gap between them like a damn predator cornering his prey.

Juliana refused to look at him.

Her eyes darted frantically, searching for salvation in places where salvation did not exist. The ceiling? Nope, just wood. The bubbling pot on the stove? Nothing but soup and regret. The floor? Still the floor.

Anything—absolutely anything—except the man currently radiating “I’m about to ruin you” energy.

“Who were you looking for?”

He asked, voice silky smooth, full of amusement.

“I-uhh… n-no one…”

She squeaked, her throat betraying her in real-time.

“Mommy.”

That deep, sexy tone? That was not fair.

She clenched her thighs instinctively. Damn him.

“H-hmm…?”

She hummed, as if she hadn’t heard him, as if she could somehow feign innocence and escape.

But Artis was having none of it.

He leaned in dangerously close, his body so near she could practically feel his heat melting through her clothes.

“Look at me.”

His voice was a slow, sinful command, the kind that made her brain short-circuit.

Her grip on the counter tightened. She was this close to throwing herself onto the stove for a distraction.

“N-no…”

She whispered, shaking her head like a malfunctioning bobblehead.

‘If I look at him, I’ll die. My soul will ascend. My legs will give out. My entire existence will be over.’

“I want you to look at me, Mommy.”

Her breathing hitched.

“N-no…”

She repeated, weaker this time.

His smirk deepened like a man who knew damn well he was winning.

“Look at me… or else.”

Her stomach did an entire gymnastics routine.

“O-or else what…?”

Her voice cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty.

His mischief turned wicked.

“Or else,” he murmured, his fingers tilting her chin up with sinful patience, “I’ll love you just like I did last night.”

“HNGH?!”

Her soul momentarily left her body.

Her hands slapped over her face so fast it was a miracle she didn’t knock herself out.

“EEEEHHHH?!”

She squealed like a middle schooler who just got her first love letter, her entire body stiff as a board.

Artis full-on laughed.

‘Goddamn adorable.’

His evil ass reached out, gently prying her trembling fingers away from her face, one by one, like he was unwrapping a forbidden gift.

Then, because he was a menace to society, he brought her fingertips to his lips and pressed the slowest, most devastatingly teasing kiss onto them.

Juliana convulsed like she’d been struck by lightning.

“Are you shy, Mommy?”

He murmured, his tone all honey and sin.

She wriggled like a trapped squirrel, trying to yank herself free, but the man was built different.

Her face was hotter than the soup behind her.

Her dignity was in shambles.

“Y-yes… I’m s-shy… last night…”

Juliana clamped her mouth shut like she’d just confessed to a murder.

Artis grinned like a man who had just found his new favorite toy.

Before she could backpedal or throw herself out the nearest window, he tilted her chin up and planted a soft, almost too innocent kiss on her lips.