Mr. Rochester: British Bad Boy (Classics Made Smutty Book 1)

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Mr. Rochester: British Bad Boy (Classics Made Smutty Book 1) Page 8

by Marian Tee


  “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---

  And the man above me is its master.

  “You can still go,” Mr. Rochester grates out, “and you need not worry about repercussions.”

  Anxiety sweeps over me, and my fingers curl restlessly against the bed sheets.

  Am I really going to do this, let a virtual stranger take my virginity?

  I may have worked for Mr. Rochester’s company for years, but I’ve only been his P.A. for a few weeks and I’ve only met him in person for the first time just the other day.

  No matter how you look at it, our circumstances can only make Constantin Rochester a stranger.

  And yet here I am, half-naked on his bed, unable to jump on his last offer of safety.

  “If I fuck you tonight, there’s no turning back. Everything will change, and I don’t bloody know how things will turn out. ” Mr. Rochester slowly lowers his body, just enough for me to feel the heavy twitching of his monstrous cock.

  I bite back a moan.

  “All I know is that I want you so badly right now…” Mr. Rochester grinds his crotch down on me harder.

  Oh God.

  “All I know is that if you say yes, I’m going to fuck you so damn hard you won’t be able to walk.” Mr. Rochester punctuates his words with a nudge of his cock against my clit, and my entire body lurches.

  So good. So damn good. And I just know it’s going to better---

  “So what’s it going to be?”

  There’s no other answer I can think of except for---

  “Yes.” I moan out my surrender.

  And then it’s exactly what Mr. Rochester says it is, and everything changes.

  Mr. Rochester abruptly moves away, and I almost cry out in confused protest when I hear him order harshly, “Get rid of the rest of your clothes. Now.”

  Aaaaaaaaaah.

  The commanding note of his voice is a huge turn on, and I find myself shakily hurrying to do his bidding. The jacket goes off first, and when I start wriggling my hips to get my skirt down my legs I catch sight of Mr. Rochester’s nostrils flaring---

  That’s when I notice how my breasts are jiggling with every movement I make, and heat explodes in my cheeks. “Stop making this more embarrassing,” I mutter.

  “What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Mr. Rochester’s tone may be lazily amused, but the look in his eyes is nothing but. It’s intense and predatory, and I feel like a lamb about to be eaten---

  And I can’t wait for it to happen.

  “You’re my woman now,” Mr. Rochester croons. “It’s my right to watch you undress.”

  The possessive words make my fingers falter, and I croak out, “You’re s-such a Neanderthal.”

  “And you, my beautiful Jane,” Mr. Rochester mocks, “are a liar. Do you think I don’t smell your desire from here? Do you think I don’t know you can’t wait for me to fuck you---”

  “S-shut up!” But my voice is weak and breathless, and I can’t help squirming in heightened consciousness as his sapphire gaze leisurely travels down my body.

  Ooooh.

  I have to clench my fists against the urge to cover myself. Except for the lace panties covering the triangle between my legs, I’m completely naked and I feel my whole body turning pink as his gaze lingers on my breasts and its pouting tips.

  God. Oh God. I suddenly remember the way his mouth sucking on my nipple feels, and I instinctively press my legs together as I feel moisture threatening to gush out of me.

  “You’re getting wet, aren’t you, Ms. Reed?” Mr. Rochester purrs.

  “Fuck you.”

  He throws his head back with a laugh. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He gaze moves down. “But we digress, Ms. Reed. It’s time to get rid of your last piece of clothing.” His voice lowers into an authoritative tone. �
�Now.”

  And oh, intoxicated little fool that I am---

  I do what he asks.

  In a second, my panties have joined my skirt on the floor and I’m completely naked. A sensual jolt strikes my body as Mr. Rochester rakes my nude body with his gaze.

  Oh God.

  Just one look, and it’s enough to make me go up in flames.

  “Beautiful, my dear.”

  Mr. Rochester’s whispered words make me press my legs harder together. It seems like everything he does and say is a turn on for me, and I hate it. Biting my lip, I mutter, “You’re still fully clothed.”

  “I know. I’m hoping you can help with it.” When my head jerks up, Mr. Rochester only smiles and crooks a finger towards me. “Come here and undress me.”

  Ooooooh.

  “Now, Jane.”

  And of course I find myself unable to resist this command either.

  My legs threaten to crumble with every second that passes, and when I finally make it to my side I feel so dizzy and faint I’m seriously worried that I’ll pass out.

  Mr. Rochester raises a brow, saying in mock surprise, “Why, Ms. Reed. It seems like you’re quite excited to see me naked---”

  “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.

  “Stop staring,” I moan.

  “So I can start eating your pussy?” While I choke in surprise, Mr. Rochester clucks his tongue. “How impatient of you, Ms. Reed.”

  “You---” But I can’t say anything else. Mr. Rochester has already dipped his head between my legs, his tongue lining my folds.

  I shudder. I scream. And most of all, I hope it never ends.

  My fingers once again tighten its grip on his hair. “Please.” I shake my head restlessly against the pillows as Mr. Rochester continues to thrust his tongue in and out of me. “Please.” I don’t even know what I’m pleading for. I just know everything is up to him.

  As Mr. Rochester’s tongue begins to move faster and thrust deeper I feel pleasure start to build inside of me. My body begins to tighten, and I can no longer stop myself from thrusting my hips up, wanting Mr. Rochester to fuck me harder with his tongue.

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  Oh God.

  It’s sooooo goooood---

  And before I know it Mr. Rochester has already sent me flying, and I’m screaming as I fall.

  I come so hard I can’t even scream. All of my energy is focused on the creamy wetness gushing out of my pussy---

  And God oh God, throughout it Mr. Rochester’s mouth remains on my core, his tongue lapping up every drop of my cum---

  It’s just too much, and even as the pleasure begins to fade in the aftermath, my body continues to shudder.

/>   Just too much.

  When Mr. Rochester lifts his mouth, I let out a tiny, tremulous sigh, thinking it’s over for now and I finally have time to catch my breath.

  But I’m wrong.

  The next thing I know Mr. Rochester is already bracing his arms on the bed and his eyes capture mine as he starts to lower himself---

  “W-what---”

  And then I feel it. The bulbous tip of his powerful erection nudging against the swollen trembling folds of my pussy.

  My eyes fly wide.

  “Mr. R-Rochester?”

  “Remember what I told you,” he whispers. “It will feel like I’m tearing you apart---”

  And it does.

  Mr. Rochester plunges his thick, monstrous cock inside of me in one swift, hard stroke and I scream, my fingers instinctively digging into his back.

  “Oh God.”

  The feel of his possession is indescribably raw, and I feel so stuffed it’s almost as if I can’t breathe without feeling his cock pulse inside of me.

  Above me, I see beads of sweat line the sides of Mr. Rochester’s face. His expression is taut, and I can see the amount of control he’s exerting to keep himself from moving.

  “Does it still hurt?” Mr. Rochester asks tightly.

  Instead of answering, I take a deep breath before moving experimentally and raising my hips a fraction---

  “Don’t,” Mr. Rochester bites out.

  But I keep moving my hips up until his cock involuntarily thrusts deeper.

  I moan.

  Mr. Rochester inhales hard even as sapphire eyes furiously rake down my body. “What the hell, Jane?”

  “I…I…” But for some reason, the words just won’t come. All I can do is clutch his shoulders more tightly as I raise my hips again---

  His nostrils flare. “Jane.” His voice is rough with need.

  “Mr. Rochester…”

  “Bloody hell, woman.”

  And then he starts to move, and I cry out.

  “I wanted to wait longer, but fuck it.”

  And his thrusts become just a bit faster and harder.

  Oh God.

  I love it.

  It’s so damn good.

  Clinging to Mr. Rochester, I instinctively raise my hips to meet his every thrust.

  “You’re so bloody tight,” Mr. Rochester grates out. “It makes me want to tear you apart.”

 

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