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It’s so good. So good. God, it’s soooo—-

Mr. Rochester bites on my nipple.

Hard.

I scream.

And he’s still biting—-

I find myself letting go of my breasts and clutching his head.

“Oh God.”

I can’t stop rocking against his body as he keeps sucking on my nipple, and I find myself frantically rubbing my pussy over his cock—-

Mr. Rochester tears his mouth away. “Jane!” His voice is tight with desire, and the look glittering in his sapphire eyes is feral.

“Make me come,” I sob. It’s all I can think of saying, begging. I’m no longer in my right mind. All I know is that I need him to make me feel that same wonderful feeling again. “Please.”

“God, Jane.”

And then his mouth is back on my breast, sucking hungrily, and as I drive my fingers desperately through his hair, pulling his head closer I feel his fingers weaving between our bodies, moving down—-

He starts rubbing on my clit.

I scream.

And still the sweet, sensual torture continues, his mouth on my breast, his fingers on my clit—-

It takes only a few seconds before I peak.

And then I’m screaming as I fall into a familiar abyss of pleasure, and I come so hard and long that by the time the pleasure starts to fade I can only collapse against his body, completely spent.

As my eyelids drift shut, I hear Mr. Rochester whisper into my ear, “Don’t sleep just yet.”

H-huh?

“I want to fuck you as soon as we get home.”

Minutes later, and I realize that Mr. Rochester isn’t lying.

He doesn’t even give me time to dress myself the moment we reach his place. Before I know what’s happening, he’s already taken his jacket off, gets my arms into its sleeves, and holds me tightly to him so not a single inch of my bare body is exposed.

“Hold on to me,” he mutters.

It’s all the warning I get before he steps out of the limousine.

Shit! My arms immediately wound around his neck while my legs lock around his waist. I’m appalled and aroused, but even so I do my best not to move too much, conscious of the fact that he’s bearing my entire weight with his uninjured arm.

Consuelo’s by the front door to greet us as usual, and I manage to smile weakly in response before quickly hiding my face against the crook of Mr. Rochester’s neck. Having glimpsed an army of maids lined up behind her, I’m not exactly eager to see how his staff would react to the sight of their lord and master with his obviously naked PA in his arms.

“Damn you.” But the muffled tone of my words makes it like I’m being coy, and my cheeks flush in shame, more so when Mr. Rochester’s chest rumbles with his low, taunting laugh.

“Damn me all you want, Ms. Reed. I don’t really care what you do as long as you let me fuck your brains out.”

I beat his back with my fists as he carries me up the stairs. “Asshole.” But my anger’s a complete sham, and we both know it, with the way my breasts are swelling against his chest.

Seeing us bypass our room makes me stiffen, but my throat is so tight with emotion that I can’t even make the tiniest sound of protest.

Oh God. Is this really happening?

A moment later and we’re entering Mr. Rochester’s vast suite, but he keeps on walking, straight towards his bed. His arms loosen and I fall on the bed.

Mr. Rochester’s gaze glitters.

Oh!

I remember too late that I only have his jacket on, and with its folds spread wide open, my breasts are completely exposed. It makes me sit up in the bed with a cry, and I start to cover my chest—-

From now on, you are never to hide them from my sight.

I remember his command, and I slowly, shakily pull my hands back.

A smile curves on Mr. Rochester’s lips, and dipping one knee on the bed, he leans forward to caress my cheek. “Good girl.”

The words should anger me, but instead I have this embarrassing urge to rub my cheek against his palm like a pet in need of affection.

When he moves forward, I find myself leaning back until I’m lying on the bed and he’s looming over me——

A shiver of apprehension skitters down my spine as Mr. Rochester continues to gaze down on me, a feral glint of desire in his sapphire eyes. This close to him, I’m again reminded by just how larger and stronger he is, how so much harder and more powerful his massive body is—-

“Last chance, Jane.” His words make me swallow hard, its guttural note a perfect foil for the shadows playing around the walls. Heavy curtains have barred daylight from coming and though I know it isn’t even early evening, the intimate darkness of his suite makes me feel like I’ve entered a world of eternal night—-

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