Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble! Chapter 559: Can’t Stop Loving

Isabelle moaned, her body arching into him, but she giggled breathlessly, pushing weakly at his chest with one hand.

"N-No, Young Master...Ah...Please...You can’t...I have to deliver these pillows to the sisters. They’re probably waiting for right now! I...I have to go!"

But Cassius didn’t let go, his teeth grazing her nipple just enough to make her gasp before he pulled back slightly, his lips glistening.

"No, Isabelle, no."

He murmured, voice husky with desire as he yanked her dress down further, exposing her other breast and imdiately latching onto that nipple too, sucking hard.

"You’re mine tonight. And it’s your fault for tempting like this. Walking by with those pillows, hips swaying."

"What did you think was going to happen seducing like that?"

"T-Tempting you? Young master, I didn’t do anything! I was literally just walking down the corridor with these pillows for the guest rooms!"

"And then, you suddenly appeared, pushed the pillows aside, slamd against the wall, and started...started sucking on my breast like a starving man! I didn’t tempt you at all—I swear!"

Cassius chuckled against her skin, his tongue flicking both nipples in quick succession, making her whimper.

"You don’t have to do a thing to tempt , Isabelle. Your body is temptation. Look at these big, juicy breasts—gods, they’re so full, so soft."

"You must be sneaking extra loaves of bread and pots of jam from the kitchen to grow them this big. Admit it—you’ve been stealing from your master, haven’t you? You naughty little maid, hoarding all that creamy goodness for yourself."

"No, Young Master! I would never steal from you!" She cried, half-laughing. "If I wanted anything, I’d just ask and you’d give the world! Why would I steal from my beloved husband?"

Cassius pulled back just enough to grin up at her, eyes gleaming.

"That’s true, but sotis stealing is just more thrilling, isn’t it? The risk, the secrecy...it makes everything taste sweeter. And now I have to make sure you haven’t hidden any extra biscuts or sweets inside these curves of yours."

His fingers hooked into her underwear, tugging them down slowly, exposing her pussy to the cool corridor air.

"Let do a deep inspection, Isabelle. Thorough. Very thorough."

Isabelle gasped, her eyes widening as she felt the fabric slide down her thighs, her body tensing in a mix of shock and anticipation.

"Y-Young Master! Wait, no—ah! Not here in the corridor! Soone could see!"

Cassius was about to say that he didn’t care—when suddenly Isabelle’s eyes darted to the right, widening in sudden panic.

"L-Lady Joy!" She gasped, her body going rigid. "I’m sorry! I-I didn’t an to show you such a sight!"

Hearing that Joy was behind him, Cassius jerked upright like he’d been electrocuted, releasing her breasts with a wet pop.

His eyes trembled wide with panic as he spun around, hands flying up in defensive surrender.

"Hold up—Joy, hold up! This isn’t what it looks like!"

"Over here—that’s Isabelle, my wife! It’s not like I’m forcing myself on so random maid! We’re married, it’s consensual, it’s...it’s normal for us!"

"So, don’t execute for this! I swear, she likes it! We do this all the ti! I’m not a monster—I’m just...just being affectionate with my wife!"

But when he turned fully, there was no one there.

The corridor was empty, save for the scattered pillows Isabelle had dropped in her haste.

Cassius blinked, confusion washing over him.

Then Isabelle’s giggle echoed from around the corner.

He whipped his head back just in ti to see her darting away, pillows clutched to her chest, skirt hiked up awkwardly as she ran, her exposed breast bouncing with each step.

"Sorry, Young Master!" She called back, voice breathless and teasing. "Even though I want to spend more ti with you, I still have my duties as a maid!"

"But I’ll visit your room tonight—don’t worry! I promise!"

She vanished around the bend, leaving Cassius standing alone in the corridor.

For a long mont, he just stood there, mouth agape, cock deflating rapidly.

Then a slow, appreciative grin spread across his face.

"Sneaky little maid." He muttered, chuckling to himself as he adjusted his trousers. "Gods, I love her so much."

He shook his head, still smiling, and turned to scoop up one of the fallen pillows, tossing it under his arm as he headed back toward his office.

"Tonight can’t co soon enough."

Cassius made his way into his office and sank into the large velvet chair behind his desk, leaned back into the pillow and slid his hair back, exhaling deeply.

His mind wandered not to the paperwork stacked neatly beside him—but to Maria.

He couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his lips.

"Ah...Lady Maria." He murmured to himself. "You really are sothing else."

He closed his eyes for a mont, rembering the way her arms had wrapped around him, how tenderly she had held him, whispering gentle, motherly words into his ear as if soothing a broken child.

He could still feel it—the softness of her embrace, the faint warmth of her chest against his cheek.

And all it took...was a few tears.

"She fell for it so easily." Cassius chuckled quietly.

The truth was, earlier that evening, when he’d been crying about the story he maid and everyone was comforting him, Maria had looked like she wanted to co forward—to hug him—only for her daughter to step between them and stop her.

That had irritated him more than he expected.

So, of course Cassius had seethed in silence.

But he had not forgotten.

Tonight, he simply took back what was denied to him. On his own terms.

Yet, as he sat there in the quiet, the smirk slowly faded from his face, replaced by sothing else.

Sothing deeper. More lancholic as the tears may have been false but everything other then that.

That was wholeheartedly true.

The truth was, when he first read about Maria—the way she conducted herself, her grace, her calm, her devout love for her daughter, her compassion toward the poor and even criminals—he had fallen for her image.

He truly did want to marry her.

She as his type, through and through.

In his previous life, even though he had his fair share of admirers, affairs, temptations...he had always kept himself at a distance.

He never got too deep.

Never let anyone in.

Never fell in love.

He couldn’t afford to.

Circumstances made sure of that.

But this world? Ever since he ca here...

It was like sothing in him snapped. Or perhaps, sothing opened.

Maybe it was because once he tasted love—or pleasure—he couldn’t stop.

Or maybe...just maybe...it was sothing that the Goddess of Debauchery herself had done to him.

So hidden blessing. So curse. Who knew?

But now? He wasn’t holding back anymore.

He wanted them all.

And he was picking up won left and right—one after another, hearts fluttering in his wake.

Still...this one, Maria, wasn’t just any woman.,

She was Joy’s mother.

She was the mother of the Saintess of Judgnt.

A living symbol of piety and virtue.

The parent of the one chosen by the Goddess of Light.

And if she of all people stood by him, embraced him, proposed her love for him?

It would shake the Church.

Shake the nobility.

Shake the very order of this continent.

The re rumour of her becoming his woman would send ripples through the circles.

His smirk widened into a wolfish grin.

"Just imagine the scandal." He said softly, tapping his desk. "The Saintess of Judgent’s mother—the Saintess of Compassion herself—falling for , the supposed devil incarnate."

He laughed quietly to himself, low and rich.

"The world would lose its mind."

It would be deliciously scandalous.

Just the kind of chaos the Goddess would love.

But none of that mattered to him as much as Maria herself.

He really did like her. Really did want her.

And more than just as a pawn. She was...precious.

He wanted her for real.

And he would have her, one way or another.

He exhaled deeply, resting his chin in one hand.

"Well...step one went beautifully."

But his thoughts didn’t linger there long. There was another reason he was still in his office tonight, instead of enjoying himself with his wives.

He was waiting.

Lucius had gone out earlier to retrieve sothing—sothing that would help Cassius further spread his influence across the land, sothing that would turn whispers into wildfire.

Whatever Lucius was bringing, Cassius knew it would be worth the wait.

He glanced toward the tall grandfather clock in the corner. The pendulum swung silently. Midnight approached.

He was just about to pour himself a drink when—

Shing!

A faint sound.

The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

Before he could turn, a cold, tallic edge pressed lightly against the side of his throat.

And then a woman’s voice—icy, sharp, and deadly calm whispered behind him.

"Make a single move, and I’ll slice your head clean off."

Cassius froze—not out of fear, but out of amusent.

A slow, crooked smile crept across his lips.

"Well, well." He murmured, his smile returning lazily to his lips. "I’ve already offered you my eyes once, Carla...Now you want my head too?"

He chuckled.

"You really are a greedy little vampire."

And then, he tilted his head just enough to glance behind him—

And there she was.

Carla.

Standing tall and elegant, her crimson eyes glowing like twin coals in the dark, her expression devoid of emotion.

She said nothing. Her gaze was colder than the blade she held.

And it was quite obvious she wasn’t here for pleasantries.