Bound By A Broken Night novel Chapter 76

Chapter 76

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Last night, I claimed my freedom. It was a reckless, exhilarating leap, but one I would take a thousand times over.

Whatever consequences the dawn might bring, I would face them with the memory of that liberation.

This morning, consciousness returned to me not with the gentle touch of sunlight, but with the delicious assault of his lips on my still–tender body.

Even before I could open my eyes, I felt him–his mouth already working wonders, teasing my twin peaks with the gentle, swirling tip of his tongue. A shiver, equal parts pleasure and exhaustion, coursed through me.

“Ahhh…” A sigh escaped my lips, but it emerged as a throaty moan, a sound I barely recognized as my

own.

“You are voracious, Ashton Pierce,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep and sensation, gasping as his ministrations sent fresh waves of heat through my core.

“You are perfect, Cassidy. I can’t seem to get enough of you.” His response was a husky murmur vibrated against the skin of my stomach.

He proceeded to wake every inch of me with fervent kisses. His mouth traced a path of fire along my neck, alternating between soft bites and gentle suckling that would surel leave marks.

He was worshipping my body with a raw hunger, as if his insatiable claim last night had never happened. As if he hadn’t taken me three times–not even counting the first, where I had been the one to take control, riding him with a boldness I hadn’t known I possessed.

My memory of our third time was a blur of overwhelming sensation. I had already lost consciousness, my body and mind surrendering completely. All I could recall was the hazy interlude after our second round, when he had carried me to the shower.

But even there, under the warm spray, his hands couldn’t leave me be. What was meant to be a quick cleanse became another round of passion, with him bending me over, the water cascading over us as he

took me from behind.

I snapped from my thoughts when I felt his hand slid between my legs, his lips hovering just above the tender, secret treasure he had so thoroughly claimed.

My body, still humming from the night, was already arching in anticipation, a silent plea for the pleasure I

knew was to come.

“Ahhn…” A sharp, involuntary gasp tore from my throat as the tip of his tongue traced a slow, deliberate path along my entire moist slit.

It was then that my hazy gaze caught our reflection in the mirror above his bed. The sight was profoundly lewd. Me, splayed on my back, completely naked and exposed, legs fallen open in surrender, and him, a dark head of devotion buried between my thighs.

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The image, the raw carnality of it, sent a fresh wave of heat scorching through my veins. I watched, mesmerized, as his head moved with expert rhythm, his mouth weaving a spell of pure sensation.

Overwhelmed, my thighs instinctively closed, trapping him there, my ankles crossing against the small of his back to lock him in place.

“Hahh…” I cried out when he found the sensitive, hidden pearl of my pleasure and suckled it firmly, sending jolts of electricity straight to my core.

“Ashton…” My voice was a tremulous whisper, my entire body quaking as a powerful wave of sensation threatened to pull me under.

But he stopped abruptly. Before I could protest the loss, he was moving, his body covering mine in a swift, possessive motion. He hooked my legs over his shoulders, opening me completely to him. There was no gentle preamble.

“Argh… fuck!” I yelped, the sound loud and sharp in the quiet room as he drove into me with a single, unceremonious thrust.

The feeling was so deep, so overwhelming, a fleeting, irrational fear flashed through my mind that he had reached my very womb.

“Fuck, Ashton!” I gasped, still reeling from the sudden, shocking fullness.

Before I could even catch my breath, he withdrew almost completely and plunged back in with the same forceful intensity.

A mix of sharp pleasure and a hint of pain made me grab his hips in a feeble attempt to slow him down.

“Are you trying to ruin my womb?”

He stilled, but I could feel the tense, coiled power in his body, the way he pushed himself even deeper, as if trying to imprint every inch of himself inside me. The feeling was bizarre–a confusing, satisfying blend of ache and ecstasy.

“What are you doing?” I was breathless, my mind struggling to catch up with the onslaught on my body.

“I was making sure,” he muttered, his voice a low, guttural rumble as he began a series of shallow, deliberate movements that seemed to target my deepest core, “your body could hold as much of my

seed.”

The words cut through the fog of pleasure.

“What? Your what?” My heart, already pounding from the physical exertion, began to thunder for a different, more alarming reason. Had I heard him correctly?

“My seed,” he repeated, the words a dark promise against my skin as he established a new, devastating rhythm.

The pleasure was all–consuming, a dizzying distraction, but his words echoed in my mind.

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What did he mean? Was he thinking of getting me pregnant? The reality of our lack of protection crashed down on me.

In the heat of this newfound connection, it hadn’t even crossed my mind. Being with him felt like the most natural thing in the world, a stark contrast to my sterile marriage to Zandrie, where such intimacy had never truly existed.

Then, I heard his soft, almost inaudible mumbling, words spoken more to himself than to me.

“This time, my seed should grow inside you,” he said quietly. “And then you won’t have a reason to leave again.”

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