"I think I hear Mrs Fairfax move, sir" I uttered, my voice breaking the intolerable silence. Mr Rochester seemed to ignore me primarily and kept his eyes, dark and irate, fixated on my figure as I stood before him, cloaked in the darkness the silvery beams emanating through the window panes failed to penetrate. I remained rooted to the floor, too frightened to move should my master do anything sudden as I felt his hot gaze roam over my body. I had managed to extinguish the fire consuming his bedsheets but the flame within his eyes was still all too noticeable, even in the gloom of the bedchamber.
In conjunction with this, reader, the frigid air brought shivers to my frame and the chill was made all the more piercing due to the fact that I had inadvertently drenched half of myself whilst saving my master from the fire that threatened to burn him alive while he slept. My ivory nightgown, to my chagrin, was rendered virtually transparent and the thin cotton material clung to my breasts leaving me exposed to an extent that certainly was not appropriate considering my position as governess. What was more, I could feel my nipples stiffen to hard peaks, brazenly exhibiting themselves in front of my employer. It would be disingenuous for me to say the only reason for this development was the temperature.
The embarrassment of the situation was almost too much for me to bear. I wanted desperately to cover my modesty yet I did not want to portray my discomfort to him. Moreover, a surreptitious thrill was coursing through my body which was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. These illicit feelings were dissolved in my blood, taken into the heart and pumped to every inch of my body, poisoning each sinew and corrupting the temple I was once so proud of. However, at that moment, I did not have the capacity to realise this, I must confess that I do not remember entertaining any thoughts at all, it was as if the energy in the room took over me.
Seeing Mr Rochester's eyes rove over my small frame rendered me strangely helpless, it was as if he were a lion admiring his kill and yet, paradoxically, I felt a strange sense of power over him, a feeling I do not believe I had ever felt prior to this. The way in which he was looking at me was most confusing, I was not entirely sure what he was trying to gauge from it but his shallow breaths gave me the impression it was not completely innocent.
I grew increasingly uncomfortable in the unabating noiselessness that confined us and my unusually silent master was beginning to startle me so at once I spoke, quietly and with a firm tone that was not at all convincing, "I am going to bed now, sir".
I paused momentarily, trying to catch any change of expression upon his horizontal features and when I regarded none, summoned enough strength to tear my body from his unrelenting stare and moved towards the door, my dampened nightdress still plastered to my shivering flesh.
"Wait." My master's voice came suddenly from behind me, his tone cracked and low, barely above a whisper. "Jane, please wait" he continued, desperation etched in his words.
I halted, my breath caught in my lungs before I could release; I hardly dared to utter a sound as his voice paralysed my frame.
The blood thundered through my ears as I felt Mr Rochester advance on me, his strides surprisingly rapid, I hardly had time to comprehend what was happening before his hands clamped down upon my shoulders from behind. Immediately, I jolted away from him with a surprised gasp and met his eyes with my own.
"Sir, what on earth are you doi…"
"Shhh" he raised a finger his lips and his expression conveyed urgency as he clasped my palms in his.
I could not comprehend the abrupt way he accosted me and I must admit, I felt rather vexed at his unprompted forwardness. He glanced towards the door and waited, presumably for any signs of movement and once satisfied with our apparent aloneness, returned his attention to my body. He swallowed, his tongue darted out to moisten his lips as his green eyes still continued to survey me.
"You're all wet" he whispered.
Shamefully, I glanced down at myself "Yes, I am very sorry, sir. You see, I accidentally spilt some water on myself when I, you know" my voice trailed off as I weakly motioned towards the drenched bedsheets.
My master said nothing but brought a hand up to my face, for one brief, terrifying moment I believed he was going to strike me but I felt him cup my cheek with a tenderness that took me aback. I wanted to run, to slam the door behind me and retreat to the relative safety of my bedroom but equally, I wanted to stay in this single moment forever. I attempted the latter, raising my head slightly to look into his eyes, attempting to understand why he was doing this, trying to read the private thoughts that those orbs gave away.
"Oh, Jane" he began, a rare smile forming upon his lips as his thumb traced along my cheek, "I've wanted this for a long time".
Fear flooded my veins, what exactly was "this"? What did he expect me to do next?
"Sir, I don't know what I am meant to…" immediately, I was cut off by my master's lips meeting my own without warning.
Understandably, I attempted to move away but this disobedience was met with two hands firmly gripping my waist, preventing me from breaking the kiss. I decided I had might as well accept my fate and without thinking, clumsily tried to reciprocate what Mr Rochester was performing upon me.
After only a few seconds, he pulled away with a smirk gracing his features, half of mockery, half of endearment "Not done much of this, have we, Jane?" he chuckled slightly. "No matter" he continued, "believe me, you will get plenty of practice".
With that, he wrapped one arm around my ribcage and pulled me rather roughly towards his own frame by placing a hand at the back of my neck. This position, though restrictive to me, was oddly comforting and so was the fact he was in control of both of our movements to a certain extent. I simply allowed him to claim my lips, again and again, the kiss was all-consuming, the heat we shared almost stifling and yet it was not enough. I had lost all control at this point, I was completely drunk on the passion we shared and relentlessly squirmed against his powerful frame, desperately trying to close the already negligible aperture between our bodies.
Suddenly, my master released his hold on me and our bodies parted slightly, our eyes locked in a gaze of mutual passion. Bitterly disappointed in the decreased contact, I aimed for his lips with my own to try to rekindle the exquisite rapture of the previous moments.
However, he held back from me and reprimanded "patience is a virtue, my dear, and I'm afraid you were becoming rather loud, you must try to control the noises you make."
Shame flooded my being, and I found I could not look him in the eye. I was so caught up in my personal heaven I couldn't even realise the sounds that were coming from my own mouth. It humiliated me to think of what my master heard emanate from me; little whimpers which I was sure were more fitting of a whore than a governess.
"Sorry, sir" I murmured, still looking at the ground.
"You need to keep a check on yourself Jane" he warned, a mixture of warning and personal fear audible in his voice. "You wouldn't want us to be found in such a compromising position now, would you?".
"No."
"I'm sorry, what was that? Look at me when I am talking to you."
Strangely thrilled, I regarded him, my eyebrow cocked in a manner to portray a safe level of rebellion, "No, sir".
A smirk playing about his lips once again, he nodded slightly, "good".
Glancing towards the door for a brief second, he reached for my hand and led me towards the bed. My heart began to beat thick inside my chest, a dizzy feeling began in my head and I resisted briefly. Mr Rochester, however, continued to guide me as I battled with my thoughts. I may have been young and inexperienced, reader, but I would have to be completely obtuse to be oblivious to the activities that a man and his wife shared. Therein lied the problem, we were not married, we were not even courting; he was my employer and social superior in every way, the only excuse for us to be doing this was the unadulterated passion we shared.
"Take it off" he commanded softly, nodding to my nightgown.
"Um, well, I can't really…" I stuttered in fear.
"If you do not take it off, allow me to do so." he mocked moving to unbutton it.
I pushed his hands away from me and took a hasty step back. "No", I swallowed, I shall do it myself".
The hunger in his eyes intensified as my shaking hands started to undo the buttons protecting what was left of my modesty, I fully comprehended what I was doing and yet somehow, I did not care. He was the only thing that gave my life any meaning and even though I understood that the guilt I would feel would probably eclipse any pleasure; I knew I would have him to help me through it.
He stood rigid, his eyes focusing on every part of my body, drinking in the scene before him until the last button was released from its prison. Slowly, and after a breath, I peeled the still saturated fabric from my breasts, revealing to my master what he had been imagining for months.
I heard a sharp intake of breath but couldn't meet his eyes. What if he was not happy with me? I was sure his previous European mistresses afforded him greater assets than I.
"Beautiful" he whispered.
I couldn't help but smile, nobody had ever used that word to describe me, "plain" or "ordinary", yes, but never beautiful. The lust in his eyes frightened me, I cannot deny that, but it also brought about a welcome heat in my core that had been ignited by the earlier kiss.
"Lay on the bed" he instructed suddenly.
"But sir, the sheets are soaked", I protested.
He chuckled in mild annoyance "Oh, I think we have more pressing issues to focus on than that. Do what I say, please".
Reluctantly, I laid down on my master's bed, completely exposing my white flesh for his viewing pleasure. I stared at the ceiling, an attempt to distract myself from how vulnerable I was feeling. I did not see it just for me to be utterly stripped of my garments while he watched on, fully dressed, in control of the whole situation (no change from his usual position, I noted bitterly).
Almost as if he had read my thoughts, my eye caught Mr Rochester hastily unbuttoning his shirt which he proceeded to discard.
I regarded his physique more intently than I care to admit, the broad slope of his shoulders followed by a toned abdomen and culminating in the trail of black hair near his groin. I was summoned from my reverie by the sound of my master clearing his throat.
"Like what you see, do you, Jane?"
He smirked in a way that both made my blood boil and caused the steadily increasing heat between my legs to bloom like a flower in May.
"Well, may I say that I also appreciate the view" he appraised my breasts and waist shamelessly, his tongue tracing his lower lip.
Mr Rochester stalked towards me and brushed my abdomen with the tips of his fingers, this fleeting touch was pure electricity, I felt as though a sixth sense was being awakened within me and even after his hand left my flesh, a smouldering heat remained.
"As much as I would like to enjoy this moment, my dear, I'm afraid we do not have all the time in the world".
I understood him perfectly, it would only be a matter of time before Grace Poole or Mrs Fairfax would be stirring in preparation for the day's work.
"Yes, sir" I murmured, hoping my arousal could not be sensed through my voice.
"Good" he whispered, his lips curling upwards slightly.
I could hardly contain my excitement as my master parted my thighs, his large hands branding my flesh like a hot iron. Without speaking, he positioned himself between my quivering legs and removed his breeches with quick skill.
I basked in the glory of my master's impressive build and my first sight of something I had only imagined during my most desperate nights. Surely that swollen instrument could not cause me anything but pain? Apprehension flooded my being and I gripped his shoulders, trying to push him away from me.
"Jane, believe me, everything will become clear" he reassured, removing my hands from him.
His mouth dropped to my neck and graced the tender flesh with ardent kisses, nipping the delicate skin rather more harshly than I would have liked but somehow it only added to the intoxicating pleasure swirling in my brain.
"Oh, Jane" he murmured into my ear, his breathing becoming ragged, a low growl emanating from the back of his throat.
He continued his wicked ministration along my breasts, his teeth scraping exquisitely against my erect nipples and setting up a direct current from my breasts to my aching core. I couldn't prevent the hot moans from escaping through my lips and was greeted with a firm hand clamping over them, jolting me out of my haze.
"Quiet" he hissed under his breath as he began to caress my hips, his mouth returning to my stomach, sucking the alabaster flesh and tainting the skin with deep red marks; I was his. He paused and raised his eyes to meet my own, I stared back, desperate for him to continue. He spoke not but instead repositioned himself before my entrance. My breath caught in my throat and the familiar fear returned at once.
He ran his thumb along my hot slit, my essence coating it liberally. He leered down at me and spoke: "I think you're ready for me, now".
Without warning, he sheathed himself fully inside of my overheated cavern causing a piercing shriek to burst from my lips. Once again, his hand clapped against my mouth, muffling the sound, as he continued to work himself inside of me.
"What did I say?" he warned, a dangerous edge to his voice through his shallow thrusts.
I could feel my tears dampening his hand and my master must have noticed too because he halted his movements, leaving his manhood enveloped in my velvety heat as he whispered: "I'm sorry, Jane, you just don't understand what you do to me. I promise the pain will end soon".
And so it did, replaced by a warmth travelling from the point of our connection and spreading through my every limb; never before had I ever felt so alive! All throughout my dismal life thus far I had never experienced anything near this level of pure bliss, I felt myself ascend to a heaven higher than I could imagine. All the while my master was atop of me, thrusting into my small frame like a madman, his barely restrained grunts were music to my ears and only served to add to the celestial vision I was painting in my head.
"Oh, sir" I began weakly, struggling to find enough breath to inflate my overworked lungs, "more, please…ugh, more".
Immediately, he unsheathed his throbbing member with an irritated exhalation of breath.
"For God's sake, Jane, I warned you" he hissed, roughly grabbing my shoulders to rotate my body and push my head into the pillow below me. He drove himself into me from behind with a low growl which I could not help but reciprocate into the damp fabric. His pistoning hips showed no sign of relenting, in fact, I was sure he became more urgent, forcing the entire length of his member into my dripping depths. Still, I needed more. I clumsily attempted to buck my hips up towards him to meet his own violent thrusts. In response he clenched my hips harder, his fingers digging into my sensitive flesh so hard I was afraid he would leave permanent markings.
"Yesss" I managed to hiss, muffled by the pillow.
After this point, there was no going back. The current flowing through my body desperately needed an outlet, my toes were numb and my head swam with unrelenting desire. I could feel an unstoppable wave begin in my core and spread like wildfire through my insides. A flash of lightning coursed through my veins and my inner walls contracted around my master's unyielding organ, drawing it deeper into myself. I screamed into the pillow causing Mr Rochester to push my head further into the pillow.
"Shut up, witch" his voice was shaking with unbridled pleasure.
It did not take long for my master to reach his own climax with a great shuddering groan, collapsing on top of me, utterly spent while his seed filled coursed through my still shuddering walls, filling me with indescribable warmth.
We laid there for several minutes, our breathing slowly returning back to normal and our mingled sweat beginning to evaporate into the sultry air as the first rays of dawn cast the whole room in a lambent glow. He brushed the damp tendrils of my hair away from my slick forehead and graced it with a kiss. I breathed in his warm, masculine scent and for the first time in my entire existence, felt at peace.
A smart rap at the door startled us both.
"Mr Rochester, sir, will you be rising soon?"
"Oh, yes," he called to Mrs Fairfax, "I shall be rising soon".
He glanced at me, his eyes full of that same fire and took me in his arms once again.