NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 115

Chapter 115: A Date? Really?

“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.

“Hmm?”

She let out a tiny, helpless hum, biting her lip as if that would stop her from combusting.

“You’re adorable.”

Juliana made a noise that could only be described as an extremely flustered choking sound. Her hands shot up to his chest, half as a push, half as a desperate attempt to ground herself.

“Y-you… don’t say stuff like that!”

She whined, squirming in place like a woman on the verge of a mental breakdown.

Artis, meanwhile, looked annoyingly unbothered.

“Why not? Is it wrong?”

He kissed her again, this time lingering, tasting, pressing just enough to make her tremble.

She barely registered her own reaction, her hands tightening against his firm chest, her breath shaky.

“It’s… it’s embarrassing,” she whispered, her lips still tingling.

Artis’ smirk deepened, his golden eyes darkening with amusement—and something far more wicked.

“Oh?”

Juliana had a very bad feeling about that ‘oh.’

Then, he leaned down, lips brushing her ear, and whispered the words that sent her entire soul into the abyss:

“I might have to pound you vigorously until you won’t feel shy anymore.”

She short-circuited. Her brain exploded. Her spine stiffened so hard she nearly turned into a statue.

“W-WHAT?!”

Her hands, which had been resting gently on his chest, suddenly SHOVED at him like he was on fire.

“Y-YOU!!! YOU CAN’T JUST SAY STUFF LIKE THAT!!!”

And yet, Artis didn’t budge. Didn’t even stumble. The man was an immovable wall of cocky, muscular confidence, his smirk growing dangerously amused.

“Why not? It’s true.” His fingers trailed down her sides, teasing the curve of her hips, his smirk downright devilish. “One night of good, hard—”

“LALALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU!!!”

Juliana slapped her hands over her ears, face redder than a tomato, fully prepared to throw herself out the window if necessary.

But before she could execute her dramatic escape, he struck.

A kiss.

A real one this time. Not teasing. Not light. A deep, toe-curling, breath-stealing kiss that had her knees buckling and her sanity vanishing.

Her arms, which had been so determined to push him away, somehow ended up tangled around his neck instead.

Her body, which had every intention of resisting, instead melted against him, pressing into his heat, desperate for more.

“Mmm~”

The sound slipped past her lips before she could stop it, a soft, needy whimper.

Artis pulled back, his grin stretching wide, eyes gleaming with pure, victorious mischief.

“Mommy…” he drawled, voice smooth like honey. “Was that a moan?”

Her heart stopped.

Her soul left her body.

She gasped like she’d been accused of high treason.

“IT WAS A SNEEZE!”

He snorted.

“Oh? That so? Should I test it again to be sure?”

Juliana let out an undignified screech, fully prepared to die of embarrassment.

“You have to stop saying things like that!!”

Juliana practically shrieked, her hands flying up in a frantic attempt to shield herself from his words—as if she could physically block the sheer, unfiltered audacity coming out of his mouth.

Artis just laughed. A deep, low, sinful chuckle that wasn’t just laughter—it was a damn vibration that shot straight through her, from her ears, down her spine, and between her legs like a fucking spell.

“And why is that, Mommy?”

She huffed, crossing her arms over her ample chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of her dress like she could physically hold onto her composure.

“B-because! It’s not proper!”

His smirk? Deadly. His eyes? Pure mischief. His hands?

Oh, those sinful things slid onto her hips, fingers pressing into her curves with slow, torturous precision, like he was memorizing the shape of her.

“Proper?”

He mused, his thumbs drawing lazy, maddening circles against the sides of her waist.

“You weren’t worried about ‘proper’ when you were writhing under my cock last night. Not when your husband was watching—”

Juliana let out a strangled gasp, eyes going wide, hands shooting up as if she could physically strangle the words back into his mouth.

“ARTIS!”

But the demon in human flesh had the audacity to keep going.

“The way you moaned…” He exhaled, his voice dropping lower, filthier. “Reminded me of a whore who hadn’t cum in over a year—”

And that was it.

Her brain short-circuited. Her entire soul combusted.

Without thinking, she slammed her lips against his in a desperate, reckless attempt to shut him the fuck up.

And it worked.

For exactly half a second.

Because the moment their lips connected, Artis, the shameless bastard, flipped the entire dynamic on its head.

His surprise lasted only a breath before he growled into the kiss, deepening it, his arms locking around her waist, yanking her flush against his body.

Juliana barely had time to react before she felt it—his hands sliding down, strong and sure, until they cupped her ass, fingers spreading across the fullness of her cheeks like he was handling his favorite meal.

He gave them a slow, appreciative squeeze.

Then, because he was the worst kind of bastard, he followed it up with a light, teasing slap.

The sound of his palm connecting with her soft flesh echoed through the kitchen.

Juliana broke the kiss with a gasp, her entire body jolting from the unexpected smack.

Her eyes flew open—wide, scandalized, burning with shock and something dangerously close to excitement.

“What?”

He asked, his voice all honey and sin, his hands still firmly planted on her ass, kneading like she was fresh bread straight out of the oven.

“You looked like you needed a reminder.”

Juliana gaped at him, her lips still slightly swollen from their kiss, her brain desperately trying to function through the thick fog of lust and mortification.

Her legs felt weak. Her heart was pounding. And most importantly…

Her pussy was betraying her.

She let out a shaky breath, her fingers clutching the counter behind her like she needed something—anything—to keep her grounded.

“A-a reminder of what?”

She stammered, even as her traitorous body leaned into his touch.

Artis’ grin widened.

“Of who you belong to now.”

“Nghhh~”

Juliana squeezed her eyes shut in pure, undiluted mortification.

She could feel her entire soul shriveling up and cringing at his words.

Sure, they made her stomach flutter, her heart race, and—okay, fine—her pussy throb just a little, but that didn’t mean she wanted to hear them out loud!

Especially not in that deep, smug, ‘I own you’ voice of his.

Artis, of course, was completely unfazed. If anything, he looked downright pleased with himself.

“Wear your sexiest costume this evening. We’re going on a little date in the evening.”

He announced, casually, like he wasn’t setting her entire world on fire with a single sentence.

Juliana blinked.

‘Wait, what?’

She barely had time to process his words before he continued, his tone leaving zero room for negotiation.

“I don’t want to hear anything back other than a yes.”

Juliana, who was one hundred percent about to refuse—not because she didn’t want to, but because her embarrassment levels were hitting critical mass— quickly shut her mouth, her protests dying in her throat.

Her fingers twitched against the counter.

Her brain was still trying to keep up.

Date? With Artis? In public? Where other people would see them?

Her first instinct was to panic.

Her second instinct was to scream.

But then, a third feeling snuck in—one she hadn’t expected.

Excitement.

Because now that she actually thought about it, it wasn’t a bad thing at all.

A date. With him. Something so simple, yet something she’d never done with him before.

It was strange. Despite all the mind-blowing, back-breaking, leg-shaking sex they’d had, she’d never actually gone out with him. And, if she was being honest, she hadn’t gone out at all in a long time.

A change of pace wouldn’t be so bad.

Hell, maybe she’d even enjoy it.

Slowly, she nodded.

“Okay.”

She murmured, trying to act like her heart wasn’t slamming itself against her ribs like a goddamn war drum.

Artis’ grin widened, wicked and knowing.

“That’s my girl.”

Then, before she could even think about running, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against her forehead.

It should have been sweet.

It should have been innocent.

But Juliana knew better.

Especially when, before pulling away, he murmured:

“Like I said, the sexiest costume you have. I want people to be drooling over you.”

And then he left.

Just like that.

Gone.

Leaving Juliana standing in the kitchen, her entire body locked in place, her brain buffering like a cheap magic mirror stuck on a loading screen.

What the fuck just happened?

One second, she was arguing with him, and the next, she had a goddamn date scheduled with instructions to look as fuckable as possible?!

Her knees nearly gave out.

She gripped the counter for support.

“Oh, fuck me.”

She muttered under her breath.

Because the worst part?

She was already thinking about what to wear.