Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 121: Maid Over A Princess

Cassius's hands lingered on Isabelle's hips, his lips still tingling from their kiss as he gazed down at her naked form, her shy beauty stirring a warmth in his chest that went beyond mere desire.

And with a sudden, playful grin, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other around her back, lifting her into his arms like a princess in a single, smooth motion.

Isabelle let out a startled squeak, her hands flying to his shoulders as her wide blue eyes blinked up at him, surprise and delight flushing her cheeks.

"Young Master!" She exclaimed, her voice a soft, breathless laugh as she clung to him, her bare skin warm against his shirt. "What...What are you doing?" But even as she spoke, a happy, gleeful smile spread across her face, her heart fluttering at the tender way he held her, cradling her close as he turned toward the bathroom.

He chuckled, a low, gentle sound as he carried her across the threshold, the faint steam from the waiting bath curling into the air. "Taking my princess to get cleaned up." He said, his tone warm and teasing as he glanced down at her, his eyes softening. "Can't have you all sticky and messy, can I?"

Isabelle's smile widened, a soft giggle bubbling up as she nestled into his arms, her fingers brushing his collar. "Princess..." She murmured, her voice glowing with quiet joy as she looked up at him, her eyes sparkling. "You called me a princess...Oh, Young Master, that makes me so happy!" She paused, then tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowing with a curious little frown. "But...Why aren't you taking your clothes off too? You're the one who needs a bath the most!"

Cassius grinned, stepping into the bathroom as he adjusted his hold on her, her weight light and precious in his arms. "I'll get to that later, Isabelle." He said, his voice calm and reassuring as he crossed the tiled floor. "First, I've gotta take care of my princess—make sure there's not a single stain on you."

"...You're the priority tonight."

Her cheeks flushed at his words, a delighted little hum escaping her as she relaxed into him, her trust in him absolute.

He set her down gently beside the tub, the hot water within steaming faintly, its surface rippling with the promise of warmth. Isabelle's bare feet touched the cool tiles, and she steadied herself with a hand on his arm.

Cassius then reached for a wooden bucket on the side, dipping it into the tub to fill it with steaming water and then turned back to her, holding the bucket aloft as he tipped it slightly, letting a small stream of water cascade over her breasts, the droplets glistening as they traced her skin.

"How does that feel?" He asked, his voice gentle as he watched her reaction, his gaze focused on her comfort rather than his own wants.

Isabelle shivered faintly, a soft sigh escaping her as the warmth kissed her skin. "It's perfect, Young Master." She murmured, her voice a tender whisper as she glanced up at him, her smile shy but content. "Just right—not too hot, not too cold."

"Good." He said, his grin widening as he tilted the bucket further, letting the rest of the water pour over her in a sudden, gentle rush. It drenched her fully, cascading down her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach, and pooling at her feet, her skin gleaming as the droplets slid over every curve. "Look at that." He said, his tone warm and admiring, his eyes tracing the path of the water with a quiet reverence. "So beautiful, the way it slides down you, all wet and shining...You're like something out of a dream, Isabelle."

She giggled, a soft, flustered sound as she brushed a damp strand of hair from her face, her body glistening in the dim light. "You really just can't stop your compliments when you're around girls, Young Master..." She murmured, her voice trailing off as she watched him pick up a bar of soap from the edge of the tub, his fingers curling around it with a purposeful ease.

Her eyes widened slightly, and she reached out a hand, her tone quick and earnest. "Oh, you don't need to do that! I can wash myself—I'm not a child, you know!"

Cassius paused, tilting his head as he flashed her a playful, knowing smile, the soap held firmly in his grip. "Maybe so." He said, his voice light but firm, laced with a gentle insistence. "But I made this soap myself, Isabelle and I know how to use it better than anyone. So, tonight, I'm gonna show you how it's done—wash you proper, make you feel every bit of it."

"...Let me take care of you, alright?"

Isabelle hesitated, her lips parting as if to protest, but the sincerity in his eyes softened her resolve. She nodded slowly, a shy smile tugging at her lips as she lowered her hand. "Alright, Young Master."

Cassius smiled gently, his gaze soft as he reached for her hand first, taking it in his with a careful tenderness that made her breath catch. He dipped the bar of soap into the water, lathering it between his palms until soft bubbles formed, the faint scent of lavender wafting up as he began to wash her hand.

His then fingers moved slowly, tracing the lines of her palm, scrubbing gently between her knuckles as the warm water trickled over her skin. Isabelle sighed softly, her eyes fluttering half-closed as she savored the soothing sensation, a small, content smile playing on her lips.

He tilted his head, studying her hand as he worked, his brow furrowing slightly with a mix of surprise and admiration. "You know, Isabelle." He said, his voice low and thoughtful. "I was expecting these hands to be all smooth and soft—delicate, like some dainty little thing. But they're rougher than I thought, calloused here and there. Didn't see that coming."

Isabelle's smile faltered, a reluctant, almost sheepish curve replacing it as she glanced down at her hand in his, her cheeks flushing faintly. "Oh...I suppose that's from the kitchen." She murmured, her voice tinged with a quiet apology as she flexed her fingers slightly. "Chopping, stirring, scrubbing pots—it's hard work, Young Master, and it's made my hands like this. I didn't mean for them to get so...unrefined."

Cassius's eyes softened, his grip on her hand tightening gently as he shook his head, cutting off her explanation with a warm, earnest tone. "Hey, no—don't you dare apologize for that." He said, his voice firm but kind as he met her gaze. "If anything, I should be thanking you. These hands cook for me every single day—every meal, every bite I've had, it's because of them."

"...They're a gift, Isabelle, and I'm grateful for them."

He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a tender, lingering kiss to her roughened palm, his breath warm against her skin.

"They're more beautiful than any princess's hands—some spoiled girl who's never lifted a finger in her life. These hands have heart, and that's worth everything."

Her blush deepened, a soft, delighted giggle escaping her as her eyes sparkled with happiness, her free hand fluttering to her chest. "Young Master...Oh, you're too sweet." She said, her voice a joyful hum as she beamed up at him, her heart swelling at his words. "That makes me so happy knowing you think that, almost as if there isn't a imperfection about me that you won't love."

He grinned, a quiet satisfaction settling in his chest as he set her hand down gently, moving behind her to begin washing her back.

His hands glided over her smooth skin, the soap lathering into a soft foam as he scrubbed with a slow, careful rhythm, tracing the gentle curve of her spine. "Because there isn't, Isabelle." He said, his tone light and conversational as he worked. "There's nothing that you could possibly do that would make me make me hate you and even if there was, I'd learn to love for my princess."

Isabelle tilted her head slightly, a cheeky little glint flashing in her eyes as she glanced over her shoulder at him, her voice taking on a playful edge. "Well, since we're talking about princesses...Tell me, Young Master—if you had to choose, would you pick a princess or a maid like me for a wife?"

Cassius scoffed, like even asking that question was rather stupid as his hands paused, his grin widening with exasperation. "A princess?...Over you?...Not a chance, Isabelle." He said, his tone teasing but genuine as he resumed washing her back, his fingers kneading gently into her skin. "Some spoiled, needy girl who doesn't know a thing about the world? Please—I'd take a maid like you any day."

"...You're capable, strong, lovely in every way that matters and a princess couldn't possibly hold a candle to you ever."

And before she could respond, he stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a warm, enveloping hug, his chest pressing against her soapy back as his hands slid to her soft abdomen, scrubbing slowly with the lather.

"Honestly, though." He murmured, his voice dropping into a tender, thoughtful tone as he rested his chin lightly on her shoulder. "It doesn't matter what my partner is—a princess, maid, whatever. Strip all that away, take off the clothes and the titles, and she's just a girl underneath."

"...And me? I like my girls plump and thick—like you. None of those fragile, twiggy princess types for me."

His hands slid upward, cupping her full, heavy breasts with a bold, hungry grip, his fingers sinking into their plush softness as he groped them in a slow, erotic rhythm. "And, my god, Isabelle, you've a body that any man would die for. Especially these breasts..." He said, as he kneaded her flesh, his palms pressing against her hardening nipples. "I love these—fucking love them."

"...So big, so soft—I could play with them every damn day and never get tired." His touch was firm, possessive, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts with a reverent heat that made her breath hitch, her body arching into him as a soft moan slipped from her lips.

Then, with a sudden shift, his tone turned lighter, a playful grin tugging at his lips as he bounced her breasts gently in his hands, watching them jiggle like a amused child. "Look them—bouncing like they've got a mind of their own!"

"And not mention, every time I catch a glimpse of that cleavage of yours, it's like they're calling out to me—teasing me, turning me on until I can't think straight. Tell me, Isabelle—are you doing that on purpose? Showing off these gorgeous things to seduce me?"

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Isabelle's cheeks flared a bright red, her hands flying up to cover her face as a flustered squeak escaped her. "Of course not, Young Master!" She protested, her voice a high, trembling rush as she peeked at him through her fingers, her embarrassment warring with a shy smile. "It's not like that—I swear! It's just...They're so big, I can't help it! They always end up showing a lot of cleavage, no matter what I wear—I don't mean to tease you!"

"Oh, I believe you." He said, his tone dropping back into a low, sultry growl as his hands stilled on her breasts, his fingers brushing her nipples teasingly. "But next time we're alone, Isabelle, I want more. I wanna see that cleavage pushed up—right up so yahy those pretty little nipples are just peeking out, teasing me. Not the whole thing, mind you just enough to get my imagination running wild, picturing what's underneath."

Her eyes widened, a soft gasp spilling from her lips as she turned her head to stare at him, her blush deepening to a crimson tide. "Young Master! You're so naughty—thinking such dirty things!...How can you say that so easily?"

He grinned, a wicked, unrepentant glint in his eyes as he pressed himself closer, his chest flush against her soapy back.

"It's your fault, you know."

He said, as his hands tightened on her breasts, groping them more sensually now, his fingers digging into her flesh with a hungry, aggressive edge.

"You've got this naughty body—provoking me every damn day, walking around with these thick curves, these sexy tits. How am I supposed to resist?" His thumbs rolled over her nipples, pinching them lightly as he squeezed, his touch rougher, more insistent, sending a jolt of heat through her core.

"Do you like that, Isabelle?" He murmured, his lips brushing her ear as he groped her harder, his hands kneading her breasts with a passionate, unrestrained fervor. "Like how I play with them? How I squeeze these perky nipples?" His fingers pinched and tugged, rolling her sensitive peaks between them as he pressed his body against hers, his arousal evident in the tightening grip of his hands.

Isabelle squirmed, a soft, reluctant whimper escaping her at first as she bit her lip, her hands clutching at his wrists. "Young Master—I—I don't..." She stammered, her voice trembling with a mix of hesitation and rising pleasure, her body betraying her as it arched into his touch.

But as his groping grew stronger, his fingers teasing and squeezing with a relentless, fiery passion, her resistance melted, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Oh...oh, yes." She finally admitted, her voice breaking into a soft, needy moan as she leaned back against him, her eyes fluttering shut. "I-I really like it...I love how your hands move across my breasts, Young Master. It feels...so good, so warm—I can't help it!♡~"

Cassius's grin widened, a fierce, triumphant heat flaring in his chest as he heard her confession, his hands never slowing as he kneaded her breasts with a deep, sensual rhythm, his fingers pinching and tugging her nipples until they stood stiff and aching.

"That's my girl." He growled, as he nuzzled her neck, his lips grazing her skin. "I just love hearing you say that, love feeling you give in like this."

"...And these tits, they're mine to play with, mine to worship, and I'm gonna make sure you feel every second of it."

His hands squeezed harder, his palms pressing her breasts together as he rolled her nipples between his fingers, drawing another trembling moan from her lips as he lost himself in the heat of her body and the sound of her pleasure.