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Mr. Rochester’s lips twitch. “You don’t sound like you mean it.” His hand goes back to my breast, and I slap it away again.

“Will you stop—-” But my voice weakens when his fingers find my nipple.

Gah.

How desperately horny am I for this guy?

“Perhaps,” Mr. Rochester suggests softly, “what you mean to say is that you’re going to miss me?” He tweaks my nipple in the end, and my breath stutters.

“N-never—-” But I end up gasping as he pinches my nipple harder.

Mr. Rochester’s mouth touches my ear. “Consider it said.”

Even knowing he’s only deliberately provoking me, I still can’t help gritting out, “I didn’t say anything, bastard—-”

Mr. Rochester forces me to turn towards him with a smirk. “I’m going to miss you, too.” And then he’s kissing me.

Hard.

My toes curl even as I do my best to keep from succumbing to his kiss.

“Promise me you’ll be a good girl,” he murmurs against my lips.

I shake my head, just to be contrary.

He nips my lips. “Promise me, Jane.”

Ah God, he’s so unfair. He knows what it does to me when he calls me that.

“Fine.” My voice is sulky.

“Good girl.” His lips move down the side of my neck. “I’ll call you every night.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say sarcastically even as I can’t help arching my neck. “I’ve heard that before.” But that’s a lie. I’ve never been close enough to any guy to receive such a promise, and it’s only my way of bracing myself for disappointment.

And the blasted man seems to know it since my words just make him chuckle before he draws the tender skin of my neck into his mouth—-

Aaaaah.

“Try not to weep tears of joy when I prove you wrong, mm?”

I’m unable to answer. The way he’s sucking on my neck has taken over my senses. I vaguely feel him moving as he does, but I’m too lost in the feelings he’s evoking to pay attention until—-

“W-what are you doing?” I manage to gasp when I realize that he has us both on our feet and he’s gently exerting pressure on my back, causing me to bend over his desk.

“A parting gift,” Mr. Rochester croons, “for you to remember me by while I’m away.”

I hear the distinct sound of his pants being unzipped.

My eyes widen. No. My gaze jerks towards the door. I don’t think it’s even locked.

Mr. Rochester pushes my skirt up to my waist.

Oh my God.

“No—-” But I end up whimpering as Mr. Rochester calmly rips my panties off.

He starts rubbing the head of his cock against my pussy, and I feel myself becoming wet with every stroke of contact.

“You c-can’t—-” And yet my fingers are already gripping the edges of his desk, preparing to hold on instead of letting go.

My eyes squeeze shut. I’m so hopeless. So damn hopeless when it comes to——

Aaaaah.

Mr. Rochester has finally thrust inside me, the monstrous girth of his cock causing the walls of my pussy to expand deliciously.

When he starts to move, his pace is excruciatingly slow, and I can’t help gasping, “Please.”

“Please what?” he rasps out even as his thrusts remain steady and leisurely paced.

My fingers tighten around the edges. It’s good. It’s so good. But it’s not enough. “P-please—-”

“Didn’t I teach you to say what you want?”

I can no longer bear the torture, and I gasp, “Faster. Harder—-”

His cock withdraws and shoves back in. But this time it’s exactly how I want it, and I manage to swallow back a scream even as my entire body bursts into flames.

Yes, yes, yes!

Mr. Rochester begins pounding into me, harder and faster, and my breasts begin to slide back and forth against the surface of his desk.

Papers and pens start falling, littering the carpeted floor, but neither of us stops, and I can only close my eyes more tightly as I do my best to keep my cries to myself.

So good. So good. So good—-

Mr. Rochester slaps my ass.

Ah!

“How does that feel, my dear?” He slaps it again, and this time I can’t help letting out a little cry—-

But it’s not out of pain, and we both know it.

His thrusts become more forceful, and so do his slaps. I imagine my ass is a fiery shade of red now, but somehow the thought only arouses me even more.

So good. So good. So good.

My body starts to tighten, and behind me Mr. Rochester lets out a rough groan.

“Come with me,” he says hoarsely.

It’s all the invitation I need.

He plunges into me one final time, and I come with a shuddering moan. Mr. Rochester groans again, and then he’s shooting his cum into me, his seed mingling with my own release, and God, I feel so hot, so stuffed, so full—-

My eyes sweep shut.

Yes, yes, yes.

I love it when he’s filling my pussy with his cum.

When Mr. Rochester finally pulls out, I’m bone-tired and barely able to lift my head while Mr. Rochester draws me to his private washroom. Exhaustion turns me into a doll in his hands, and I can only let Mr. Rochester clean me up and set my appearance to right.

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