Depraved Noble: Forced To Live The Debaucherous Life Of An Evil Noble!-Chapter 144: The Devil Who Knows The Way To A Woman’s Heart

Avery knelt there, her arms still raised high, her mind a swirl of confusion as Cassius pressed his face into her sweaty armpit. She had no idea what was happening—why he was doing this, what it meant. But a strange mix of sensations washed over her.

His breath tickled her skin, warm and soft, and the faint brush of his cheek felt oddly nice, almost comforting.

Up close, his handsome features struck her anew—those sharp lines, those crimson eyes glinting with something she couldn't place and for a fleeting moment, she felt an urge to pull him closer, to cuddle him like some oversized pup.

But then reality snapped back, cold and jarring.

'He's...sniffing me.' She realized, panic flaring as her face flushed hot. Her arms twitched, instinct urging her to yank them down, to hide the damp, musky shame she'd bared.

She started to lower them, her voice a flustered stammer. "Y-Young Master, wait—"

But before they could drop, his hand shot out, his voice cutting through her protest with a firm edge.

"Keep 'em up." He ordered, his tone sharp and unyielding. "That's an order, Avery."

Her hands froze mid-motion, trembling as his command sank in, binding her like invisible chains. She couldn't disobey, not under that gaze, not with the weight of his authority pressing down.

But she couldn't stay silent either, her words tumbling out in a rush. "What—what are you doing, Young Master?! I'm dirty down there, all sweaty and gross."

"...You shouldn't be near me like this! My body's filthy right now, you don't—"

He pulled back, just enough to meet her eyes, his face still hovering close as he echoed her question, almost to himself.

"What am I doing?" His gaze locked onto her flustered, wide-eyed stare, searching it for a moment before he spoke again, his voice low and thoughtful. "Tell me, Avery—if someone abandoned a treasure, tossed it aside because they didn't see its worth, would you pick it up? Keep it for yourself?"

She blinked, thrown by the sudden shift, her brow furrowing as she tried to follow. "I...uh..." She hesitated, her mind scrambling for an answer to a question she didn't understand.

"Yeah, I guess I would." She said finally, her voice uncertain but honest. "If they really didn't want it anymore—if they couldn't see its value—I'd take it. Use it, cherish it myself. Why...?"

His smile returned, soft and knowing, a glint of satisfaction sparking in his eyes.

"That's exactly it." He said, his tone warm with approval.

And before she could respond—before she could even process what he meant, he leaned back in, his face pressing into her armpit again, rubbing against it with a slow relish that sent her reeling. His nose brushed her skin, inhaling deeply, savoring the scent she'd spent years despising.

Avery's flush deepened, her voice rising in a flustered squeak. "Young Master—what are you talking about?! I-I don't understand!"

Her confusion mirrored the crowd's, their murmurs swelling as they leaned in, baffled their eyes darting between the two, searching for meaning in his cryptic words.

"What treasure?"

"What's he on about?"

But despite her protests, Cassius didn't stop. His hands slid up, gently spreading her arms wider, his fingers tracing the slick, sweaty flesh of her armpits with a reverence that bordered on worship.

The dampness coated his fingertips, glistening In the light as he admired her, his touch slow and deliberate, like he was handling something precious.

"Still don't get it, huh?" He said, his voice a low murmur, tinged with amusement. "Guess I'll spell it out. The treasure I'm talking about it's you, Avery."

"...This body, right here, the one you're calling dirty. It's a damn masterpiece, Avery and something I'd fight tooth and nail to claim."

Her breath caught, her eyes widening as his words hit her like a thunderbolt. The crowd gasped, a ripple of shock spreading—"Her body?!" "He's serious?!"—as they gaped at him, their disbelief palpable.

Avery shook her head, her voice trembling with incredulity. "H-How can this be a treasure?! It's sweaty, it stinks—it's full of grime and muck! There's no way that's possible, no way anyone could—"

But before she could finish, he pulled back again, one hand lifting to cradle her face, his fingers brushing her cheek with a tenderness that stole her words. His touch was gentle, like he was holding a rare gem, and his crimson eyes softened as they locked onto hers.

"You know, even leaving your body aside..." He said, his voice dropping to a warm hum. "...your face alone's a treasure, Avery. You're beautiful—gods, so beautiful it stops me cold."

"Those eyes, sharp and steady like a hawk's, carrying every battle you've won. That jaw, carved tough as stone but soft when you smile. The way your scars trace your skin like a map of every fight you've survived every line's a story, every mark a victory."

"...You're a warrior, a brute, sure—but you're a damn work of art too."

Hearing this, her face flared red, her breath hitching as his words washed over her, each one a sweet, unfamiliar sting. No man had ever spoken to her like this...never praised her with such worship, such care.

She'd spent her life as a soldier, a rough-edged blade, her hands calloused and her body scarred. Men saw her as a comrade, a fighter—never a beauty, never something to cherish.

Her ex-husband had recoiled from her sweat, her strength; others kept their distance, intimidated or indifferent. But Cassius's voice, low and earnest, wove a picture of her she'd never imagined, and it hit her like a blow, leaving her flustered and small, a little girl caught off guard by a compliment she didn't know how to take.

The crowd softened, their murmurs shifting, some knights blushing, others smirking as they watched.

"He's...sweet-talking her?"

"Gods, listen to him go!"—

"Quite the pleaser, huh?" One whispered, nudging her neighbor with a grin.

"Knows how to charm 'em—look at her face!" Another sighed, her voice tinged with envy. "Never had a man say that to me—makes her sound like a damn queen."

Avery's hands wavered, still raised, her armpits glistening as she stared at him, her voice a shaky whisper.

"Young Master...I..." She couldn't find the words, her heart pounding as his hand lingered on her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin.

His gaze held hers, steady and warm, and for the first time, she felt seen—not as a brute, but as something precious, something worth fighting for.

Cassius held Avery's gaze, his hand still resting gently on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin as he continued, his voice a low murmur that wove through the air like silk.

"And with a face this beautiful, Avery..." He said, his eyes glinting with a fierce sincerity. "...I wouldn't care if it was drenched in the blood of your enemies—spilled fighting for your country, protecting your people."

"...I'd kiss that pretty little face of yours anyway, all fierce and wild, and I'd do it with every ounce of passion I've got."

Avery's breath hitched, a flush creeping up her neck as his words sank in, painting a vivid, dizzying picture that sent her heart stuttering.

For a fleeting second, she let herself bask in it—the idea of him pressing his lips to hers, undeterred by the gore of battle—but then doubt crashed in, sharp and cold. Her blush faded into a wry, disbelieving smile as she shook her head.

"N-No, there's no way that's true." She said, her voice soft but firm, tinged with a bitter edge. "You're just saying pretty words, Young Master...I mean my even ex-husband couldn't even stand me coming home from training—sweaty, a little bloody, nothing like that."

"...While you yourself are a noble—highborn, used to luxuries and clean silk. There's no chance you'd kiss me covered in blood. Impossible."

Hearing this refusal, Cassius's gaze didn't waver, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her, a flicker of something—pity, maybe anger—crossing his face.

"It's only natural you'd think that, Avery." He said, his tone steady but laced with a quiet bite. "That ex-husband of yours, that blind bastard, he treated you like dirt, made you feel like you're less than you are and it's not your fault he was too blind to see what he had."

"...But me?"

His lips curved into a smirk, sharp and confident.

"I can prove it's not just false words I'm uttering but the truth I stand by."

Before she could process what he meant, he turned his head, his voice ringing out.

"Emma!"

The call cut through the murmurs, drawing every eye to the corner where the young blonde knight stood, her face already flushed from watching the scene unfold, her body warm with a mix of embarrassment and something she couldn't name.

At his summons, she jolted, her blue eyes wide as she hurried forward, stumbling slightly in her haste.

"Y-Yes, Young Master?" She stammered, reaching their side and glancing down at Avery's kneeling form, Cassius's proximity, the erotic tension thick in the air. Her blush deepened, her hands fidgeting as she tried not to stare.

And before she could ask what he wanted, suddenly Cassius moved—swift and decisive. His hand darted out, snatching the dagger from her belt with a fluid grace that left her gasping.

The crowd froze, a collective breath held as he raised the blade, and then to everyone's utter shock, without a flicker of hesitation.

...He slashed it across his palm.

And immediately, a deep, jagged cut bloomed red, blood welling up and spilling over in a steady stream that dripped onto the dirt below.

Seeing this, Avery's eyes widened, a cry bursting from her lips.

"Young Master, w-why'd you do that?! You're hurt—stop, we need to treat it!"

She lunged forward, her hands reaching for his, panic overriding her confusion as she tried to staunch the flow.

"Stop..."

He suddenly snapped, his voice firm and commanding, freezing her in place. He then held up his bleeding hand, his gaze sweeping over the crowd as knights surged forward, their voices overlapping—"Get a bandage!" "He's bleeding bad!"—along with the trio Julie, Aisha, and Skadi stepping closer, concern flashing in their eyes.

"All of you, stop." He barked, his tone cutting through the chaos. "Stay where you are as I'm completely fine and I just gave myself a little cut to prove my point."

They halted, uncertain, as he turned back to Avery, his expression softening slightly.

"Sorry about this." He said for some reason, his voice low, almost tender. "Gonna ruin that pretty face for a sec."

And before she could process his confusing words,

to her shock, he pressed his bloodied palm to her cheek, smearing the warm, sticky crimson across her skin in broad, tribal-like streaks.

He painted her—here, there, a slash under her eye, a curve along her jaw—until her face gleamed with his blood, transforming her into something fierce and regal, a warrior queen from some ancient tale.

The warmth of it seeped into her, her pulse racing as if it bound them together, his life mingling with hers in a way that made her heart thud wildly.

Then, before she could catch her breath, he leaned in and his lips crashed against hers, fierce and deep, a passionate kiss that stole the air from her lungs.

"Mmm!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Mmm!♡~ Slurp!♡~"

His tongue slipped past her lips, roaming with a hungry, erotic dance—teasing, swirling, claiming her in a way she'd never felt before.

"Kiss!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Mwah!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Nibble!♡~"

The taste of him, the heat of his blood on her face, the press of his mouth—it overwhelmed her, her body melting into the sensation as ecstasy flooded her senses.

"Smooch!♡~ Smooch!♡~ Kiss!♡~ Smooch!♡~ Sip!♡~"

Her knees weakened, her mind blanking as she succumbed, the kiss lifting her to a plane of pure, heavenly bliss she'd never known.

He then pulled back slowly, leaving her dazed, her lips tingling as she stared at him, her breath ragged and his smug grin returned, his crimson eyes glinting with triumph as he tilted his head.

"Proved you wrong, didn't I?" He said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "Bloody, sweat, it doesn't matter to me as with a gorgeous face like yours? I'll kiss it every damn time."

"...And if you were my wife, Avery, I'll just tell you that I wouldn't stop—couldn't stop kissing your little lips. You're too beautiful for that."

Her face—already streaked with his blood, flushed an even deeper red, the heat rising as his words sank in.

'He meant it...He meant what he said.'

The truth of it hit her like a wave, stirring feelings she couldn't name—fluster, awe, a flicker of something dangerously warm for her young master.

The crowd gaped, their disbelief echoing hers their murmurs swelling with a mix of shock and reluctant admiration.

"He actually did it!"

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

"My husband wouldn't even touch me after a spar!"

No man they'd known would've done this, not for a sweaty, bloodied warrior like her.

And Emma, still hovering beside them, snapped out of her own daze, her eyes locking onto the gash in his palm.

"Young Master!" She cried, her voice trembling with worry. "Your hand—you need to treat it, now! It's deep—it could get infected!"

But Cassius only scoffed, waving her off with a casual flick of his uninjured hand.

"This?..." He said, glancing at the dripping wound with a smirk. "It's nothing—just a scratch."

He looked up at her, his gaze softening into something sincere, almost reverent.

"And compared to you to Avery and every brave knight here..." He nodded at Avery and the ladies all watching in anticipation. "...using your bodies as shields, bleeding for your hone, for the people you love?...This cut's a joke. Doesn't even register."

Emma gulped, her heart stuttering at his words, and the knights around them felt it too—a swell of warmth, of pride, rippling through their ranks.

"Gods, listen to him." One whispered, her voice thick.

"He gets it—really gets what we do." Another nodded, her eyes shining.

"Never have I heard praise like that makes it feel so...worth it."

His simple words, raw and honest, struck a chord deep within them, soothing scars they hadn't realized still ached.

Julie and Aisha stood apart, their disbelief mirroring each other as they watched him weave his spell.

"Just like the reports." Julie muttered, her voice low and wary. "He's got them swooning—every damn onewith a few sweet lines."

Aisha looked around, her face still flushed from the kiss she'd witnessed, her throat dry as she forced out a scoff.

"He's dangerous." She said, her tone sharp but unsteady. "Too good at this, too good at twisting words till they're hooked."

"...We can't get close, Captain. He'll try it on us next, and I'm not falling for that crap."

Julie nodded, her jaw tight, but a flicker of curiosity betrayed her.

'What would he say to me?' She wondered, the thought slipping through unbidden before she shoved it down.

Aisha caught it too, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Cassius, her own mind drifting despite herself, 'What'd he pull to snag me?' before she shook her head in frustration for even having such a thought.

"Keep your distance, Captain." She then muttered, more to herself than Julie. "He's a damn menace...A devil who knows the way to a woman's heart."