Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 665: I Need More

Maria watched it all—fascinated, transfixed, unable to look away even as shame burned in her chest.

She had heard the stories, of course. Endless nights with the brothel girls, their voices low and conspiratorial as they painted pictures of lovers’ touches.

But those were tales—vivid, yes, but distant. Words on the wind.

This?

This was real.

Intimate.

The first time she had ever witnessed lovers like this.

And Cassius...gods, Cassius moved like he had studied every curve of the female form, mapped it down to the nerves that sang under his touch.

No frantic haste, no clumsy grabs.

Every caress was sensuous—deliberate strokes that made Carmela’s body undulate like water under his hands.

When he twisted her nipple just so, her back bowed and a shiver raced down her spine.

When he groped the full weight of her breast and squeezed, she melted further into his chest with a sigh that bordered on worship.

Maria could almost feel it herself. As if his palms ghosted over her own skin—warm, insistent, knowing.

Each time he rolled Carmela’s nipple between his fingers, Maria’s own peaked harder, straining against the thin silk of her nightgown until the fabric rasped like sandpaper.

She crossed her arms tighter—trying to hide, to smother the sensation—but the pressure only amplified it, sending little jolts straight to her lower half.

"Nnn—!"

A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her lips, and she bit down hard on her tongue to silence it.

She shouldn’t be feeling this.

Not here.

Not now.

Her daughter was a few mere feet away, still dazed from her own ordeal.

But she couldn’t stop watching.

Couldn’t stop imagining.

What would it feel like if those hands were on her?

If that mouth closed over her own breasts—sucking, teasing, drawing out moans she didn’t know she could make?

The thought alone made her thighs clench, a warm ache blooming low in her belly, her hidden folds growing slick with unwelcome need.

Emotions she had never explored—sharp, insistent, forbidden—stirred to life inside her.

Not just arousal, but something deeper: curiosity, envy, a hollow ache for touch she had denied herself for so long.

And all of it—triggered not by her own body, but by watching him.

By imagining him doing the same to her.

Her breath came shorter now, cheeks burning as she pressed her thighs together harder.

She was a mother. A healer. A woman of compassion, not...this.

But gods help her, she couldn’t look away.

Couldn’t stop the heat building until her most intimate place throbbed with a need she had no name for.

But just as Maria felt the heat coiling tighter in her belly, Carmela suddenly pulled back from Cassius’s throat.

Her fangs slipped free with a soft, wet sound, leaving two neat punctures that closed almost instantly.

The frantic hunger in her eyes had eased, but a deeper, heavier lust still smoldered there—dark and focused.

"Cassius." She rasped, voice thick. "This...This isn’t enough anymore."

He lifted his head slowly. Her nipples slipped from his mouth with a faint pop; her breasts settled heavily against her ribs, still flushed and glistening.

"I need more." She whispered. "I need...more from you."

Cassius blinked—then searched her face.

"What do you mean...more?"

His voice came out rough, like he already suspected but couldn’t quite believe she was saying it.

Carmela’s cheeks burned darker but she still spoke.

"The side effects are stronger this time. Worse."

She swallowed hard.

"Just...just you sucking my breasts, licking them, groping them like that—"

Her gaze dropped again to where his thumbs still brushed the undersides.

"—it helped, but it’s not enough."

"I need something...much stronger. Something that’ll actually stop it."

Understanding flashed across Cassius’s face and a slow smirk curled his lips.

"Oh?" He drawled. "You sure about that?"

Before she could answer, his hands slid lower—over the curve of her waist, then dipping beneath the waistband of her pajama bottoms.

He palmed her ass firmly, kneading the full cheeks until she whimpered and arched despite herself.

"Because if you want more..."

He continued, thumbs tracing the crack.

"...that means I’d have to go down here."

Carmela sucked in a sharp breath.

Cassius tilted his head, eyes locked on hers.

"You told me before, remember?" His voice was teasing now. "Bottom half was completely off-limits. No touching. No playing."

"Definitely no going anywhere near...here."

One hand slipped lower, cupping her fully from behind until she jolted.

"But if you’re asking for more—if you really need me to make it stop—you’re going to have to give me permission, Carmela. Otherwise I can’t do a thing."

Carmela stared at him—furious, flustered, pupils blown wide.

She looked like she wanted to bite him again.

But her body betrayed her—hips rocking forward in tiny, helpless jerks, fresh slick soaking through the silk still clinging to her thighs.

After a long, trembling moment, she gave one jerky nod.

"Go ahead." Carmela whispered, voice cracking. "Do...Do whatever you need to do."

Then, quickly, frantically, she added,

"But not all the way! You can’t—you can’t use that thing!"

Her gaze dropped pointedly to the thick ridge still tenting his robe.

"The one that’s been pushing against me this whole time. No...No rod. Just...whatever else you need. That’s it."

Cassius’s smirk widened into something dangerously pleased.

"As my feisty little vampire commands."

He didn’t hesitate.

One arm banded around her waist; the other hooked under her thighs and he stood—lifting her as though she weighed nothing—and carried her to the bed where Maria and Joy were sitting.

He laid her down gently in the center of the mattress, pillows fanning out around her pale hair.

And without ceremony, his hands went to pull her pants.

But to his surprise, Carmela panicked, her hands flying down to clutch the fabric.

"W-Wait—"

Cassius frowned, though his eyes sparkled.

"Carmela. As good as I am, even I can’t work miracles through cloth. If you want this burning to stop, you need to let go."

Her fingers trembled against pants. For a moment, she held on, the last vestige of her modesty warring with the primal scream of her body.

Until finally, with a small, defeated sigh, her hands fell away, flopping onto the bed beside her.

Cassius didn’t hesitate. He tugged and pulled both her pants and the simple underwear beneath them down her long legs and off, tossing them aside.

Maria’s breath hitched.

Carmela’s legs were revealed—long, powerfully sculpted yet elegantly tapered, a perfect blend of warrior’s muscle and feminine grace.

They were breathtaking. But that wasn’t his target.

He gently took her ankles and parted her legs, spreading them wide.

Carmela squeezed her eyes shut, a fresh wave of humiliation heating her skin, but she didn’t resist.

The sight that was unveiled between her thighs made Cassius let out a soft, appreciative hum.

"Now that..." He murmured, his voice thick with genuine admiration. "...is a beautiful pussy if I’ve ever seen one."

The outer lips were the same rich coffee-brown as the rest of her skin, smooth and taut.

Nestled within, the inner flesh was a startling, tender pink, glistening and already slick with her arousal.

Her folds were also parted, revealing the tiny, fluttering entrance that wept a steady, clear nectar, making everything glossy and inviting.

The contrast of dark and light, of sleek outer skin and dewy inner softness, was profoundly erotic.

"Beautiful." He repeated, leaning closer.

Carmela turned her face away—cheeks blazing—but her hips lifted anyway, a silent plea.

Maria herself couldn’t breathe.

She had never seen anything so intimate, so raw.

After getting a good look, Cassius then lowered himself slowly—settling between her thighs, shoulders spreading her wider.

He leaned in—close enough that his breath ghosted over her clit.

And just as his tongue was about to make contact—

Carmela’s hands shot out—grabbing his hair.

"Stop—stop—stop—Cassius, wait!"

He froze—nose almost brushing her folds—then lifted his head with visible reluctance.

"Come on, Carmela!"

He groaned, half-laughing, half-exasperated.

"How many times are you going to do this to me? If you really don’t want it, just say so."

"You can’t tease a man like this and then pull away at the last second."

But she shook her head frantically.

"It’s not that! You can continue, just..."

Her voice dropped to an agonized whisper and she turned her head, looking directly at Maria and then at Joy, who was still sitting rigidly on the other side of the bed, staring blankly at the wall, lost in her private storm.

"They’re still here and I would prefer...if they left."

She swallowed hard, the reality of the audience crashing down on her.

When she was consumed by the blood-hunger, their presence had been a distant, irrelevant fact.

But now, sated on that front and facing a different, more intimate hunger, the awareness was excruciating.

Maria was practically her new guardian, a maternal figure.

And Joy...the thought of someone who considered her to be her idol witnessing this level of vulnerability was too much to bear.

"It’s too embarrassing."

She pleaded, her voice small.

"I can’t...not with them watching. Not anymore. Please send them away."