This is a one-shot set after the attempted wedding between Jane and Rochester wherein Jane goes to see him in his room before leaving. All characters belong to the author, Charlotte Bronte, and not to me. I have tried to keep it historically accurate and the style and characters in line with the original novel.
Thornfield Hall was silent at this late hour as I moved briskly through the vacant, rayless corridors. I had gathered my few and humble possessions with the intent of stealing away into the inky, unrelenting blackness outside. I could only peer briefly through the slash of mellow light emanating from little Adèle's bedchamber as I understood stepping further would only serve to rouse her from the kind of peaceful, pure slumber one can only truly achieve in childhood. Besides, my heart knew the mere sight of her angelic face and golden curls would coerce me to stay. My breath caught in my chest and it took all of my strength to suppress the sob at the back of my throat; I hoped that she would gain a governess who treated her kindly and was not too harsh when she struggled with her English pronunciation or occasionally descend into a fit of giggles during a needlework lesson.
It was a mercilessly short period of time before my mind recognised the part of the house I rarely frequented, the rooms in which Mr Rochester spent the majority of his time. The rational part of my mind was seeking desperately to gain sovereignty over the disloyal body it should have had the power to control which was presently making its way to my master's door.
My feet halted outside the gateway to a different destiny and for several, almost unbearably long moments, my eyes regarded the masterful carvings on the oak and the soft curve of the heavy brass doorknob. I raised a tentative hand to rest softly against the grain of the wood and the feeling beneath my fingertips was one of comfort and stability; much like what I once imagined my future with him to be.
The heart in my breast beat like a hammer on a blacksmith's anvil and I was confident that the dull pain radiating from my chest was almost akin to that intensity. Through the silent din of my pulse racing in my ears I could make out the sounds of my master restlessly pacing his study. Waves of guilt instantly threatened to drown me and I had to lean my shaking frame against the cool wood to steady myself. What had I done to him? Surely my conscience could not permit me to leave the man I loved above all others in such a state?
No. It was not my own shortcoming that lead him to purposely deceive me about the mad woman who remained his bride, I was not the one who failed to mention that he was intent of committing the crime of bigamy. I had to remind myself that all the pain and misery he was going to succumb to was a direct cause of his failing to act in accordance with moral decency. I turned away from the door and strode past it.
Reader, I am ashamed to inform you that my noble display of strength was nothing more than transient. My body had taken leave of the mind usually attached to it and during an instance of passion I found myself on the other side of the door wondering, after the adrenaline had worn off, how on earth I had gotten there.
I stood there, rigid, breathing as though I had stole across the room to prevent Pilot from taking a fancy to Adèle's Canary and locked eyes with my master. I instantly discerned shock in Mr Rochester's dark eyes which quickly turned to sheer joy and disbelief.
"Jane?" his voice was unchecked, so unlike of him and his tone was full of hesitancy as though he thought that realising my presence would shatter the mirage.
I forced myself to raise my chin from my chest and spoke "It is I, sir".
He moved at once and I took a step back in fear due to his rapid strides which were accompanied by an low, almost pitiful moan. When he became near I could see the full extent of the torment I had caused him, his usually pristine shirt was untucked and creased and his black hair showed signs of being pulled in a fit of despair. He reached me and fear leapt in my chest before he immediately sank to his knees with a great, shuddering sigh and buried his head into the the thick layers of my skirt.
"Forgive me, Janet, please" he begged, his voice displaying equal measures of sorrow and hope.
As watched him I felt a surge of absolute adoration, until this moment I had never felt such a strong emotion and it stirred the very core of my being. Notwithstanding, I had to fight off the urge to laugh at him, seeing such a aloof and proud man begging at my feet was a curious sight indeed, reader!
"Sir" was all I could utter, so quietly that at first I took it that he did not even hear me but he gazed up at me, his brown eyes wide and glazed with rare tears.
Our eyes were locked in a stare which held every emotion I believed it possible to feel: love, shame, guilt, hurt and something else I couldn't quite place which caused a fire to ignite within my core. We remained like this for what felt like an eternity, the inexorable passing of each second was no longer an article that could affect us; we existed beyond the reach of time.
I felt my already failing resistance disappear as quickly as an April downpour as I cried with the all the honesty of my being "I forgive you, sir!"
At once, he drew himself up to his full height, placed his hands around my waist and pulled me, rather roughly, towards his imposing frame. Strange energy was in his eyes, strange fire was in his look as he whispered "Oh, Jane, I'm so sorry".
I barely had time to think of an answer before he increased his grip on my waist and firmly pushed my back against the wall, he pressed his mouth to mine and I couldn't help emitting a small gasp of surprise. Of course, he had taken my lips several times before but never were his kisses so ardent and desperate, never was his breathing more ragged and unchecked and never had the flame between my legs been hotter than at this moment.
The little self control that remained within me expeditiously evaporated as I reached my arms around his neck and found myself kissing him back with matched vivacity and animalistic need; our tongues were locked in a fierce duel which neither of us had the intention of losing. I moaned softly into his mouth but the sound was lost in the unrelenting fever of our passion.
He suddenly pulled away leaving me breathless and unsatisfied, I looked at him with mild annoyance and uttered a quiet groan of discontent. His dark eyes were clouded with desire and a smirk crossed his features as he murmured "Patience, my treasure" almost mockingly.
His fumbling hands briskly began to unbutton the back of my dress while I stood trying not to scream out from sheer frustration, never had getting undressed seemed to be such a burden! When he had finally stripped me down to my corset his strong arms wrapped around my chest and he paused in his task to press his warm lips to my shoulder. The heat took me by surprise so I moaned slightly and try as I might I couldn't resist the urge to tilt my head to the side to allow his eager mouth greater access to my burning flesh. Before I realised it, I was standing before Mr Rochester bereft of even a solitary garment and for the first time I felt embarrassment overtake me as quickly as frost can cover a meadow on a January morning. My master's eyes were filled with a combination of adoration and pure, unadulterated lust, his burning gaze was causing my heartbeat to quicken and an almost intolerable heat to bloom between my thighs. "Sir?" I enquired, my voice barely above a whisper.
My voice must have roused him from the trance-like state and caused him to advance towards me with one intent in mind; though I was young and naive, I had no doubt as to what he had the intention of doing to me. His large yet gentle hands quickly guided me towards his writing desk and laid me down on it, excitement built in the pit of my stomach and a warm sensation coursed through my limbs as if I had sampled an aromatic wine.
I could feel my arms being pinned above my head and smirked inwardly at how his natural dominance had returned from its earlier position of begging at my feet. He looked into my eyes for a split second before dropping his head to my neck and gracing the soft, milky flesh with dozens of fervent kisses that caused my head to spin and my chest to heave. These gentle caresses quickly became rapid and unrelenting with his teeth grazing an area just below my ear which left me gasping for air but also thinking about the certainty of visible marks that Mrs Fairfax would certainly not approve of.
Mr Rochester changed the path of his kisses and directed his mouth towards my breasts and I waited with bated breath as my nipples hardened into rosy diamonds the closer he got to them. His hot, wet mouth enveloped the tiny mound and his tongue circled around it before sucking gently on the bud. I writhed beneath him like a trapped animal, powerless and vulnerable as his clever ministrations elicited soft whimpers of pleasure from my being. He chuckled darkly and scraped his teeth along my darkening nipple. "Sir!" I moaned with urgency and surprise as a direct current of electricity surged from my breast to the area between my legs which by now had become uncomfortably hot.
He removed his mouth from the swell of my heaving breasts and looked down at me with the same half-smirk upon his visage. It was then that I became aware of a certain pressure on my thigh. Bewildered, I glanced down and was greeted by the sight of a long, rod-shaped object threatening to burst from my master's breeches and for the first time I was approached by a wave of fear. What exactly I was supposed to do next, I simply did not comprehend.
Mr Rochester released my arms and whispered into my ear as though he had read my thoughts. "Don't worry, Jane, I'll teach you". He followed this remark with a reassuring yet lustful smile while his warm hands caressed down past my stomach into the humid, tropical wetness at my core where the unrelenting pulsing had now progressed into a dull ache. My master dipped his fingers into the nectar pooling at my entrance which caused me to involuntarily buck my hips up to meet his hand. "My, my, Jane" he remarked with a smirk
and something about his smug tone and knowing expression rendered me equal parts vexed and aroused. His fingers continued to wander across my glistening folds, probing and fondling the sopping flesh until he reached my hardened nub. The contact forced me to arch my back and jolt my
pelvis upwards and I had to bite down on my lower lip to prevent myself crying out in joy.
He continued with his wicked ministrations until my tortured body could take it no more "Oh sir...oh God, sir" I moaned, forgetting every last remnant of pride. I could feel the pleasure building within me, like something I had never experienced before and then, all of a sudden, it ceased. My groan of mingled disappointment and outrage was closer to a growl and I stared up at my master with pure shock and fury in my eyes. "Sorry, Jane, I can't take it anymore. I need you now". His voice was husky and low and the intensity of his brown eyes bored into me with such intensity that I had trouble keeping his gaze and yet I couldn't bring myself to look away.
His hands, trembling with unbridled desire, raced to undo his breeches to finally release his erect member which sprung forth as if it were almost independent of his body. He aligned it with my dripping entrance and began to slowly push the head between my moist petals. I groaned in a rather improper manner and prepared myself for what was to come. Nothing did. Reader, I cannot tell you how vexing it was for him to continue with this teasing, it was as if he was holding a piece of meat before a hungry dog.
He cupped my cheek with his palm and looked deep into my eyes with that same infuriatingly effective smirk. "You haven't forgotten your manners, have you Janet?"
I couldn't believe the audacity of him, what sheer gall! In any other occasion I would have refused to oblige but at present I do believe I would have heeded if he told me to run fifteen miles around Thornfield estate; I was desperate for my release.
"Please" I murmured quietly, refusing to meet his gaze.
"Pardon?" my master enquired.
"Please" I repeated, louder this time with desperation in my eyes.
"I hardly think that is the correct way to address your mas…"
"Please, sir!" I begged.
Not a moment after he had gotten the reply he so wished for, he grabbed my hips, his fingers digging desperately into my yielding flesh, and sheathed his throbbing member into my dripping channel. The suddenness caused me to cry out in pain as he tore through my maidenhood, I felt as though I were being ripped apart. Mr Rochester sensed my discomfort and slowed his thrusts so he could claim my lips to comfort me. Soon afterwards, the pain had all but disappeared and the familiar boiling pleasure began to build up in my already overheated centre.
With every thrust, my hips bucked to meet his pelvis, drawing him deeper into my steaming core and causing both of us to emit animalistic groans of fulfilment. "Oh, Jane" he grunted his voice dripping with arousal. "Oh, sir" I whimpered repeatedly feeling as though I couldn't take the unrelenting bombardment of pleasure. It did not take very long for me to reach the point of no return for the first time in my life, my eyes rolled backwards, my back arched and as though a whip was being unfurled, pleasure shot through every nerve ending almost instantly. A low growl emanated from the back of my throat and brought forth a rousing cry of rapture which pierced the still, night time air of the house like a bullet to a mirror "Oh, Edward!"
The contraction of my inner walls caused my master to reach his own climax and with a great, shuddering groan, I felt his member swell and the potent seed erupt within before he collapsed on top of me, both of us filmed in sweat and gasping for air.
"Sir" I breathed several moments later. "I think I shall stay".