NTR: Minor Villain Wants to Be the Main Villain - Chapter 75

Chapter 75: Awkward Family Dinner!

“Take your time, mommy. Me and Nadia aren’t going anywhere. Right, Nadia?”

Artis drawled, his smirk sharper than a blade.

That damn smirk.

Nadia’s glare could’ve fried an egg—or maybe that was just her jealousy simmering at full boil.

Sure, she looked annoyed, but deep down, she was stewing because she wasn’t the one down there choking on his oversized “vegetable.”

Her mood soured further when Artis’s hand casually wandered to Juliana’s thigh, like it had all the time in the world.

He tapped it twice, and Juliana obediently lifted her leg onto her chair, spreading herself wider than a yoga instructor mid-sun salutation.

And then—oh, he was a bastard—Artis locked eyes with Nadia, ensuring she didn’t miss a single second.

Slowly, theatrically, he licked two of his fingers, the sound wet and obscene. The glisten of his saliva caught the light as his hand disappeared beneath Juliana’s robe.

A moment later, his fingers slid into her dripping, pantiless pussy.

“HNNNGGHH!!”

Juliana’s moan erupted like a volcano, loud and shameless. Her head flew back, her hair cascading like some sort of porno shampoo commercial.

Her mind shattered as Artis’s fingers worked their magic, hitting every spot like they were pre-programmed with GPS precision.

And yet—still—she didn’t stop sucking that carrot.

The dining hall was now an orchestra of wet, sloppy sounds: Juliana’s gagging on the carrot, the slick squelch of her pussy being fingered, and her moans blending into an erotic symphony that echoed off the walls.

Nadia, poor Nadia, was a wreck. Her thighs clenched together as she felt her own arousal pooling between her legs. Her panties, not that they’d have stood a chance, were soaked through.

‘He hasn’t even touched me.’

She thought bitterly, her body betraying her with every twitch and throb.

“I was thinking about buying him some alcohol… Dad. I’m talking about Dad.”

Artis said, his tone casual, as though his hand wasn’t currently buried knuckle-deep in the said person’s wife’s dripping pussy.

Nadia blinked, her brain short-circuiting at the chaos in front of her.

“Wh-what…? Al-alcohol? W-w-why?”

She stammered, though her question lacked conviction.

Because honestly, how was she supposed to focus on that when Juliana had one leg propped up like she was auditioning for an adult gymnastics routine, and Artis’s hand was working her like he was kneading dough for a prize-winning loaf?

“Well, stopping someone like him—who’s been drinking for decades—cold turkey will only make him go mad. We need to taper it off. Slowly. Naturally. The best way is to lower the amount of alcohol, little by little, until he can’t handle a single drop. You follow me?”

His fingers didn’t miss a beat, plunging and curling, producing wet, obscene squelches that echoed louder than his reasoning.

Nadia tried. She really did. She tried to look at his face while he spoke, to process the words like a reasonable adult.

But her eyes betrayed her, darting to Juliana’s face, which was twisted in unfiltered ecstasy, then to the glistening, pumping hand that was causing all the commotion.

“Aaarrrghh~!”

Juliana suddenly screamed, her body jerking violently.

Nadia froze, her breath hitching as Juliana’s legs quivered uncontrollably. Her pussy practically exploded, juices spraying like she was a malfunctioning water fountain.

A particularly ambitious droplet soared through the air and landed squarely on the table.

Nadia’s heart pounded as she stared at the evidence of Juliana’s orgasm gleaming in the light.

Her face burned hotter than the soup in front of her, and she clenched her thighs under the table, hating—and loving—how her body was reacting.

“I-I-Is that so—oh damn!”

Nadia exclaimed, losing her composure entirely as her elbow slipped, sending soup cascading from her chin straight down to her low-cut nightie.

The steaming liquid trailed over her cleavage, accentuating the two unmistakable tents that were already pitched.

Artis, catching the scene with his predatory smirk, leaned in, his voice dripping with mock concern.

“What is this, Nadia? So clumsy. Here, let me help you out.”

Her eyes widened in panic as she realized he wasn’t reaching for a napkin but extending the same hand that had just been wrist-deep in Juliana’s quivering mess.

His fingers glistened obscenely with evidence of her mother’s euphoric meltdown, making it very clear what exactly he was offering.

Her heart raced.

‘What the hell is he thinking? Does he want me to—? No, no, wait… Is this a test?!’

Questions fired through her head like a panicked squirrel dodging traffic.

The hand reached her chin, his fingers casually smearing the mix of soup and something else across her skin.

Then, with deliberate slowness, he raised those same fingers to her lips, the motion oozing confidence and command.

“Suck it…”

Her mouth went dry—well, mentally, at least, because physically, her lips parted on instinct. Her eyes darted between his smug face and the two offending fingers now inches from her mouth.

The liquid on them wasn’t just soup; the clear, slick sheen told a much more intimate story.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. She gulped, hesitating, but her body betrayed her. The heat pooling between her thighs reminded her she wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse… quite literally.

Artis’s expression shifted ever so slightly, the smirk melting into something closer to genuine curiosity.

It was like he was conducting an experiment, waiting to see if Nadia could—no, would—be inducted into the depraved circus he and Juliana were already headlining.

Nadia’s hesitation dissolved like butter in a hot pan. Her plum-colored lips parted, and with a deliberate slowness that screamed both innocence and desire, she leaned in, taking his fingers into her mouth.

Artis’s eyes widened for a heartbeat—just a flicker of surprise—before his signature smirk slid back into place like it had never left.

Her lips wrapped around his fingers, the slick sensation making him cock an eyebrow as if silently applauding her boldness.

The taste hit her tongue like a freight train. Salt and sweetness mingled together in a heady cocktail that screamed Juliana.

It wasn’t just a flavor; it was a confession, an intimate secret passed directly from one body to another.

Nadia’s entire body betrayed her in response. Her thighs clenched under the table, a soft, muffled moan bubbling up from her throat as her eyes involuntarily fluttered back.

The spoon clattered forgotten into her bowl as both hands shot forward, clutching his muscular forearm like it was her lifeline.

She sucked with a fervor that could’ve put a vacuum cleaner to shame, her tongue swirling around his fingers like she was trying to extract every last drop of her mother’s essence.

Artis chuckled darkly, watching her with a mix of amusement and satisfaction.

“Careful, Nadia. You might just find yourself addicted.”

Her cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t let up, her body now moving on instinct. Whatever line she thought she had, she’d crossed it, and the thrill of it was written all over her face.

“That’s it. Take your time.”

Nadia’s tongue danced over his fingers like she was trying to decipher some divine recipe. Her head spun, her body betraying her with each flick of her tongue.

She felt like she was levitating, floating on the sheer intensity of the moment. And damn, the lingering taste of her mommy wasn’t helping—it was only turning her into a puddle of need.

“Th-there’s some soup spilled here too…”

She finally managed, her voice shaky as she pointed to the trail of white soup sliding provocatively from her chin down to her cleavage.

Artis tilted his head, his smirk widening.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Before she could process what he was about to do, his fingers moved down, swiping a dollop of soup from her collarbone.

Her heart raced as he brought it back to her lips. She didn’t hesitate, sucking his finger like it held the elixir of life.

But he wasn’t done. Oh no. His hand glided lower, fingers grazing her skin just above her breasts.

The brief touch was enough to send electric shocks racing through her, her body practically begging for more.

Her nipples hardened under the thin fabric of her nightie, and her thighs pressed together involuntarily.

Then he stopped, just a hair’s breadth away from where she wanted him most, swiping another streak of soup—this time from the upper curve of her breast.

His finger returned to her lips, and she licked it with a desperation that was almost pitiful, her eyes locked on his with a pleading intensity.

But Artis wasn’t about to give her what she craved. Each time he moved his hand lower, only to stop short of truly satisfying her, it felt like an expertly crafted torment.

The frustration built inside her, a slow boil threatening to spill over.

“A-and th-there… too.”

Nadia stammered, pointing to the trails of soup that shamelessly dripped down her cleavage, the peaks of her nipples practically screaming for attention through the strained fabric of her nightie.

The neckline was so low that one wrong move could turn dinner into a whole new kind of feast.

Artis leaned back slightly, his smirk widening like a cat who had just found a mouse trapped in a cookie jar.

“Should I squeeze the remaining soup in one go?”

Nadia swallowed hard, her face a beacon of crimson lust.

“Y-yes… squeeze as much as you want.”

Artis chuckled darkly.

“Nah, just once is enough to drain you.”

The innuendo hit her like a sledgehammer, and her blush deepened, her body trembling under his teasing.

Slowly, deliberately, Artis reached out, his hand stretching with predatory precision….