Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 74

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Chapter 74

“Cassie-”

He surged upright, hands coming up to cradle her face before she could move any further. His fingers tightened just enough beneath her chin to still her, to force her to look at him.

Their eyes locked.

Hers were sharp–defiant, questioning, unapologetic.

His were dark and earnest, blazing with restraint stretched to its breaking point. He wasn’t drunk on wine. He was drunk on her–on what she was doing to him, to his control.

“Divorce your husband,” he said hoarsely.

The words landed between them like a blade.

For a heartbeat, she didn’t respond. One brow arched slowly as she studied him, her narrowed gaze searching his face–as if weighing whether he was serious or merely desperate.

“Divorce him,” Ashton continued, his voice lower now, rough with promise and restraint.

“And we’ll have all night.”

It sounded like an offer. A temptation.

A line drawn clearly, deliberately.

Their gazes remained locked, neither willing to yield. Then Cassie exhaled a soft, almost amused breath.

“I don’t have any plans to divorce Zandrie,” she said at last–casual, composed, devastating.

The words were calm. Too calm.

They struck harder than any rejection, shattering the fragile certainty Ashton had been clinging to.

“Hah.

“J

A bitter chuckle rumbled from his chest as he leaned back, propping himself up with one hand while the other dragged slowly down his face.

The sound wasn’t amusement–it was disbelief, edged with something dangerously close to hurt. A hollow, humorless smile curved his lips, bitterness settling into the sharp lines of his handsome

features.

Cassie watched him in silence, still straddling him.

“So that’s what this is,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly, his gaze drifting away from her at last.

“Just a game.”

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The words landed with a dull finality, stripping the moment bare, the raw truth of what he thought he was to her.

“I don’t play games, Ashton,” Cassie replied evenly.

She shifted away from him, creating space where desire had been only seconds ago. She sat next to him and picked her glass again.

Ashton let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Then what am I to you?” he asked, turning back to her, bitterness curling around every syllable.

“A kept man?” The scoff that followed was sharp, edged with wounded pride.

“Someone you reach for when you feel lonely?” he went on, voice low, cutting.

“Someone convenient when your husband is busy elsewhere?”

His eyes searched her face now–not heated, not accusing–but stripped down to something raw and unguarded.

“From the very beginning of our marriage,” Cassie said quietly, “I accepted Zandrie’s… peculiar ways.”

She glanced at Ashton before lifting her glass again, the ruby liquid catching the city lights as she took a slow sip.

“When he’s busy with his distractions, I was never lonely,” she continued, her tone steady, almost

detached.

“I didn’t need anyone to fill the silence. I didn’t need comfort. Not until now.”

She drained the glass and set it aside, turning fully toward him at last.

“I don’t want to define whatever this is,” she said calmly.

“The moment labels enter, people will call it forbidden–especially you.” A faint, unapologetic shrug followed.

“But I don’t care.” Her gaze locked onto his, unwavering.

“I only mind society when its rules benefit me. If they don’t, why should I bend?”

A slow breath.

“My marriage has nothing to do with what I want right now. I refuse to imprison myself in standards ! never agreed to.” Her lips curved–soft, dangerous.

“I make my

own.”

Before Ashton could respond, she closed the distance again, settling against him with deliberate intent. His breath hitched, surprise flashing through his eyes–yet he didn’t stop her.

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“Cassie-”

“I don’t want to be righteous tonight,” she murmured.

“If this is a sin,” her lips brushed his, teasing, claiming, “then let it be.”

She kissed him–unapologetic, insistent, leaving no space for hesitation. It wasn’t a question this time. It was a decision.

For a heartbeat, he resisted–then restraint shattered.

His hands came alive, matching her urgency, the kiss deepening into something hungry and unrestrained. The night swallowed the sound of her soft gasp as his control finally gave way.

“Cassie…” his voice was rough now, undone.

“Shhh.” Cassie pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him.

She finished divesting him of what little clothing remained, then turned to herself, shedding each piece with unhurried intent. He could only watch, dazed and undone, as if the night itself had slowed around

them.

Soon, she stood before him in nothing but her underwear, the cool night air brushing her bare skin. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she climbed over him again, straddling his hips with deliberate confidence.

“Cassie…” His breath came ragged, uneven, the sound dissolving into the quiet hum of the night. With her above him, so close and nearly bare, breathing seemed difficult.

“Argh… goodness…” he gasped when she shifted against him, the thin lace between them offering little barrier–only enough to heighten the friction, the tension, and the undeniable pull drawing them closer to the edge.

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Cassie scattered biting kisses across his chest, her tongue tracing circles around his hardened nipples.

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