Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 150

Chapter 150

“You’re crazy, Cass…” Ashton-murmured against her lips as she pushed him backward until he fell onto the bed, only for her to climb over him and pin him there with surprising boldness.

Her hair cascaded around them, her eyes bright with mischief and something far more dangerous.

“I’ve been losing my mind,” he admitted in a strained whisper, his hands gripping her waist as if unsure whether to steady her -or himself.

“Trying to figure out how to steal you away from CEO Wallace… and feeling guilty about it every second because of how good he is to you and Kai.”

His mouth trailed from her lips to her jaw, then lower, leaving slow, deliberate kisses along her skin. When he nipped lightly at the curve of her shoulder, she gasped, her fingers tightening against him as a shiver ran through her.

“You don’t look very guilty,” she teased breathlessly, though the way her body responded betrayed her composure.

“I am,” he muttered, punctuating the words with another teasing bite that made her wince softly-caught between pain and pleasure.

“Because every time I touch you… I forget I’m supposed to be honorable.”

His hands slid up her back, holding her closer, as if proximity alone could silence the war inside him.

“I hate that I even had to think about stealing you,” he confessed more quietly, his forehead resting briefly against hers.

“But you were always meant to be mine.” his words were not possessive-they were certain.

The tension between them shifted, no longer playful or teasing, but something far more consuming. The air felt heavier, charged with longing that had been restrained for far too long.

“Ash… ah-❞

Her breath trembled into a soft moan as he lowered his head, his kisses warm and deliberate against her skin. He moved slowly, reverently, as though rediscovering something sacred. Each touch lingered, unhurried, intentional.

The sound of her voice filled the room-low, unsteady-while he worshipped her with quiet devotion.

He shifted, guiding her gently back against the mattress, his body hovering over hers before settling carefully, as though even in passion he feared hurting her. The movement was deliberate-protective as much as possessive.

When he finally pulled back to look at her, his gaze deepened. It was no longer just desire that darkened his eyes-but awe.

“You are perfection, Cassidy,” he murmured, his voice rough, breath uneven as his eyes traced every inch of her.

She flushed under his stare, suddenly shy despite everything.

“Why do you always look at me like that?” she asked softly, a faint pout forming on her lips.

“Why are you so fond of watching me with nothing on?”

He leaned down again, brushing a lingering kiss along her collarbone, then lower, reverent and slow.

“Because,” he whispered huskily against her skin, “you’re perfect without anything hiding you.”

His mouth traveled downward in a trail of heated kisses, savoring each inch as if memorizing her all over again. And in that moment, there was no guilt, no hesitation.

“Ah-”

The breath left her in a trembling gasp as he moved lower, his touch deliberate, unhurried. When he settled between her thighs,

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she felt the heat of his presence before anything else-and that alone made her pulse race.

“Ash…”

Her fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, holding on as waves of sensation rolled through her. Every brush of his mouth, every slow, knowing movement/sent sparks along her spine.

A sharp “Shit…” escaped her lips.

His tongue traveled her entire moist slit, and she nearly forgot to breathe as it swirled, scouring her wet folds. Under Ashton’s expert touch, her body arched of its own volition, her only response a broken whimper.

Every passing moment coiled the tension inside her tighter, her need for him becoming a palpable, physical ache. Her breath hitched as desire had completely consumed her.

“I need you… now…” she pleaded, the words a lewd, breathless whisper.

“Please…..” Her fingers trembled as she reached for him, a gesture of pure desperation. Her body arched from the mattress, a silent, begging offering.

But she need not ask.

In one swift, powerful motion, Ashton was atop her, his weight a welcome anchor. There was no hesitation, no gentleness— only the deep, claiming thrust that filled the hollow ache within her.

“Ahh…!” A sharp, guttural cry was torn from her throat.

He answered with a ravenous roll of his hips, setting a rhythm that was both punishing and perfect. He dominated not just her body, but her very soul.

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