NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 45

Chapter 45: Mommy and the Daughter (1)

“Oh, little Art! Why did they summon you?”

Juliana squealed, clapping her hands like she’d just seen her favorite boy band walk into the room. Meanwhile, Nadia blushed so hard you’d think her face was trying to outdo a ripe tomato.

She darted her eyes away, pretending to be uninterested in the devilishly handsome step-brother who just strutted in like he owned the damn place.

“Ah, what can I say, Mommy?”

Artis said, his voice dripping with smugness as he flipped his hair like a shampoo commercial diva.

“They need me for everything. This time, it’s some mythical artifact or some bullshit. Somewhere dangerous, somewhere dramatic. You know, the usual hero stuff.”

He took a step forward, each stride oozing confidence, and both women froze like deer caught in the headlights of his swagger.

Their hearts were pounding so loudly it was practically a drum solo. Nadia swallowed nervously, her breath quickening like she’d just run a marathon—except the only thing running was her imagination.

“I mean, really,” he continued, smirking. “First I save the Matriarch’s pride, and now I’m the chosen one for this artifact quest? It’s honestly tragic there isn’t anyone else as capable as me. Right, Mommy? sister?”

Nadia could barely breathe as he got closer, his aura practically suffocating her in the best possible way. Then, as if he hadn’t already stolen the show, he casually slid behind her.

His hands came down to rest on top of Juliana’s which were already on Nadia’s shoulder, giving them a light squeeze that sent a jolt of electricity through the room.

Nadia couldn’t hold it in—she let out a soft, involuntary moan, her face now competing with a cherry for the “reddest thing alive” title.

“Tr-true,” Juliana stammered, her smile wide but her cheeks pink. “My little Art is so talented now, huh?”

Artis, the smug bastard, just grinned and leaned in closer, practically pressing his body against hers like he was staking his claim.

“Don’t you wanna see my real talent?”

Artis whispered, his voice dripping with so much seduction it might as well have been honey.

His hands squeezed tighter over Juliana’s, forcing her fingers to dig into Nadia’s shoulders.

Nadia, caught in the crossfire of this little game, closed her eyes and let out a soft, involuntary sigh that sounded dangerously close to something you’d hear through thin walls at midnight.

“W-what more ta-talents does my little Art have to show his Mommy?”

Juliana stammered, her voice shaking like a leaf in a horny hurricane. She was starting to feel hotter than a furnace on overdrive.

“A lot, Mommy,” Artis said, leaning in so close his breath tickled her ear. “A lot. For example… pounding.”

He let the word hang in the air like a bomb about to go off. Juliana’s eyes widened, and the slutty sparkle in her gaze practically screamed, Say more, you sinful bastard.

“…Doughs… Pounding doughs to make delicious cakes. That’s a talent.”

Juliana’s chest rose and fell, her breathing shallow as Artis took his sweet time savoring the moment.

His gaze slowly dipped to her chest, where her robe had started to betray her. Two very prominent tents had pitched themselves on her breasts, her nipples so hard they were practically screaming, We’re here, boys!

“And don’t forget,” Artis added, his voice a low rumble, “milking. A particularly voluptuous cow that needs to be milked…”

Juliana’s blush deepened as she followed his gaze, realizing exactly where he was looking. Her legs wobbled slightly, and Nadia? Poor Nadia was practically vibrating under all the sexual tension suffocating the room.

“Very thoroughly.”

Artis whispered, stepping behind Juliana like a predator circling his prey. He removed one hand from hers, only to place it back a moment later, now guiding her hands in slow, deliberate strokes over Nadia’s shoulders.

The up-and-down motion sent a shiver through both women, their breaths shaky, their bodies practically screaming for more.

“And not leaving… a single drop.”

Artis finished, his grin widening as he felt their trembling reactions.

Mastering pressure points from the divine scripture was proving to be Artis’s most perverted stroke of genius yet.

Not only was he pleasuring Nadia by expertly manipulating Juliana’s hands, but he was also subtly teasing Juliana herself through her own damn fingers.

Double the trouble, double the fun. But Artis? Oh no, he wasn’t stopping there—hell no. He was a man on a mission.

With the audacity of a goddamn rockstar, he began to grind against Juliana’s ass, the soft swell of her cheeks pressing deliciously against him.

To top it off, he leaned in and placed a slow, deliberate kiss on her nape, his lips brushing her skin like a sinful promise.

“Wo-wouldn’t that hurt the poor cow…?”

Juliana’s voice wobbled, the thin veneer of innocence cracking under the weight of how utterly dirty this situation was. She knew exactly what “milking” meant, and she was down bad, neck-deep in the gutter with him.

“Nah. I know my way. I’ve got the knack. I know exactly where it hurts—and where it doesn’t.”

Another kiss. Another grind. Juliana’s knees were ready to give out, but Artis wasn’t finished.

He grabbed her hands again, lifting them up to Nadia’s ear. Juliana’s trembling fingers began to caress Nadia’s earlobes, and Nadia squirmed, a soft gasp escaping her lips.

“More than that, why are you massaging sister all of a sudden? Something wrong with her? Or are you just feeling generous today?”

“I-it’s just…”

Juliana’s voice cracked, a poor attempt at holding it together as the fire between them burned hotter.

“Her shoulders are… uh… nghh… her shoulders are sour…”

Her words were a mess, half-formed excuses barely holding up under the weight of what was happening.

She was trying so damn hard not to let out a full-on moan, knowing full well it would blow their cover.

Meanwhile, Nadia was squirming under their combined assault, her flushed face buried in her hands as she tried to process the absolute circus of debauchery unfolding behind her.

“Oh, I know why her shoulders hurt!”

Artis declared with the enthusiasm of a man who was about to make things worse in the best way possible.

The sultry tone in his voice sent an unintentional shockwave through both women, and they let out soft, breathy moans.

“But I do believe massaging the source could cure this. Don’t you think, Mommy?”

“Y-yes… massaging the source—nngh~ mwahh~”

Juliana stammered, her brain clearly short-circuiting as she turned her flushed face toward him.

It was all the opening Artis needed. Like a fox spotting an unattended henhouse, he dove in, capturing her lips with a cocky confidence that made Juliana melt faster than butter on a summer’s day.

‘Oh my god! He just—oohhh, god save me…’

Juliana’s thoughts spiraled into chaos as Artis’s tongue launched a full-scale invasion of her mouth, twirling and teasing like it was conducting a private symphony.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft moan escaped her lips, her body betraying every ounce of decorum she once had.

‘Heh, this is gonna be good. Let’s see just how far I can take this. A live show between a mommy and her daughter? Oh, hell yes. Popcorn’s missing, but this’ll do.’

His hand, still guiding Juliana’s, began its slow descent. From Nadia’s ears, where it lingered teasingly, down to her nape in a movement so languid it felt sinful.

‘Slow and steady.’

Artis thought, the wicked grin on his lips growing wider.

The hands didn’t stop at the nape, though. No, Artis had plans. Big, naughty, utterly irredeemable plans.

As they slid further down, grazing Nadia’s shoulders, the tension in the air thickened, making the room feel like it was about to combust.

Nadia shivered under their touch, her breaths hitching, and her lips parted slightly, as though she were on the verge of begging for… something.

‘Time to massage the source.’

Artis thought with the enthusiasm of a man about to commit a sin he’d absolutely enjoy.

With the ladies already floating on clouds of pleasure-induced distraction, Artis gently guided Juliana’s hands, slipping them right into the warm sanctuary of Nadia’s robes like a thief in the night.

Bingo.

As Juliana’s fingers brushed against the soft, plump perfection beneath, Artis grinned like a devil at the gates of heaven.

‘Yep, perfect. Nadia must be in a state of bliss right now. Not just her. Damn, these massage techniques should be illegal.’

But then something magical—or downright sinful—happened. Juliana didn’t need any more encouragement.

Her hands, like they had a will of their own, began exploring, sliding down and settling firmly over Nadia’s generous, bountiful pillows.

The warmth, the softness—it was addictive, and Juliana, deep in her pleasure-dazed stupor, didn’t even consider what she was fondling. It just felt right.

Meanwhile, Nadia, completely unaware of her mother’s hands-on approach, arched her back, thrusting her girls further into Juliana’s eager palms.

The subtle stimulation sent electric shivers through her, making her whimper softly.

“Mhhmwahhhh”

The moans were rising in volume, overlapping like some kind of twisted choir of depravity. The sound of lips pressing, hands groping, and soft sighs filled the room.

‘Time to milk the cow.’