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“N-no!” But the squeak in my voice gives me away, and Mr. Rochester smirks.
“Let’s not waste time then, shall we?”
“I told you I’m not—-”
Mr. Rochester’s fingers start working expertly down the buttons of his shirt and my voice trails off as inch by inch his the bronze muscled wall of his chest is revealed.
Oh God.
The shirt falls to the floor, and I’m treated with the most amazingly sexy sight of Mr. Rochester’s broad shoulders that then taper down to his strong chest and sculpted abs.
Impossible, I think weakly. Surely it’s impossible for any human being to have this kind of godlike body of perfection?
Mr. Rochester unbuckles his belt, and I gulp hard when this, too, falls to the floor.
What’s left now, I wonder dazedly.
Mr. Rochester suddenly reaches for my hand and steadily but firmly pulls me close until the erect tips of my breasts graze his chest—-
A whimper escapes me just as Mr. Rochester sucks his breath.
“Finish the rest, Ms. Reed.” His voice is harsh with desire, and the look on his face is taut with strain.
After unzipping him carefully with trembling fingers, I find myself kneeling on the floor as I slowly pull his pants down. He steps out of them and now I’m just left with his boxers—-
A moment later, that, too, disappears and I’m suddenly at eye-level with his cock.
I gulp.
It really as monstrous as I imagined—-
“Do you think it’s big enough for you, Ms. Reed?”
“I...ah...” For God’s sake, if I have to be honest, I’m seriously worried it won’t fit.
When Mr. Rochester chuckles, I realize I’ve spoken my thoughts out loud and I turn red.
“It will fit,” Mr. Rochester drawls, “but it may feel like I’m tearing you apart at first.”
Ooooooooh.
Mr. Rochester pulls me up, and that annoying-slash-sexy smirk is back on his lips when he asks with mock concern, “I hope that’s alright?”
“Uh. Yes.” My voice is hoarse. I can’t even muster the energy to get mad.
Tearing me apart, he says.
I can’t wait.
Mr. Rochester takes my hand and as he leads me back to the bed, he asks under his breath, “Are you nervous?”
I look away, muttering, “A bit.” But even so I don’t murmur a single word of protest as he lays me on the bed, and I only draw my breath sharply when his body slowly covers mine.
Aaaaaah.
My world spins just a little faster as every inch of our bodies come into contact, and I feel the delicious heaviness of his length.
“I’m going to take care of you, Jane.”
The words are completely unexpected.
Tender.
I don’t quite know what to make of it, much less what to say, so I end up giving him a small, simple nod.
He lowers his head slowly, and my eyelids fall shut.
Mr. Rochester’s seduction begins with the softest, gentlest brush of his lips against mine, and it’s so painfully sweet that my toes curl hard at the sensation. Over and over his mouth brushes against mine until I find myself relaxing. My arms move on its own volition, looping around his neck—-
Mr. Rochester chooses that same moment to slip his tongue between my lips.
I arch against him with a soft gasp of surprise, and Mr. Rochester takes advantage of my parted lips by pushing his tongue further.
Aaaaaaaah.
Our first kiss, I think dazedly.
And it’s exquisitely erotic.
The movement of his tongue inside my mouth is sensual and bold. I can’t quite explain it. All I know is that every stroke makes me want him more and more and more.
“Open your mouth, Jane.”
And I do.
“Suck on my tongue.”
And I do this, too, because I know—-
“That’s it,” Mr. Rochester rasps. “Exactly like that.”
—-everything he makes me do always makes me feel good.
When Mr. Rochester tears his mouth away I can’t stop myself from moaning in protest—-
“Sssh.” Mr. Rochester’s tone is soothing. “You’re going to feel even better. I promise.” And he proves this as his mouth latches to my breast—-
Oooooh God.
Each breast is given lavish attention, and the way he spends sucking on my nipples is so good it’s almost tortuous, causing my fingers to drive up his hair until I’m clutching his head hard and arching up to push my nipple deeper into his mouth.
And then Mr. Rochester is moving again, and I can only moan and writhe restlessly under him, knowing that it’s as he promised, and everything will be even better—-
When I realize where his mouth is heading, I shake my head in protest, whimpering, “No!” My legs automatically try to close, but Mr. Rochester only forces them apart again.
“Be a good girl,” Mr. Rochester grates out, “and just open wide for me.”
Aaaaaah.
“Now, Jane.”
Even as my legs part wide open slowly, I can’t help muttering, “Damn you.”
“You can say that as many times as you bloody want. I won’t give a fuck as long as you do what I say.”
Mr. Rochester’s possessive gaze falls on my pussy.
