Page 26 of Euphoria
I edged along the wall, taking a step to prepare to flee, but like a bolt of lightning, Edward raised his arm, and his palm connected with the wall, closing off my escape route.
“I should let you go,” he muttered, and I wasn’t sure if he spoke to himself or me. “But something stops me, Jane. You say you are afraid of me? Well, I’m afraid of you.”
“Me?” I said, my voice sounding harsh next to the sweet baritone of his.
He didn’t reply, and when his body pressed against mine, pinning me in place, a moan escaped from between my lips, causing my face to heat with embarrassment. I had not declared the things I felt, but it seemed I’d betrayed myself to him with my actions a long time ago.
When his hands came to rest on my flushed cheeks, I shuddered violently, all control leaving my mind and limbs. I was putty in his hands, and from the way his gaze penetrated mine, he knew it.
“I should leave,” he murmured, but he lingered.
“What if you stayed?” I asked. “What would happen then?”
His hands lowered, pulling me away from the wall, and traced the curve of my spine, lighting a fire underneath the surface of my skin, until his fingers curled into my hair. He tugged, forcing my head to the side just so…then his lips pressed against my ear as if he was about to tell me a wicked secret.
“If I remained, I would tear your clothes from your body and have you mercilessly, Jane.I would tear you apart.”
I shivered as the tip of his tongue grazed my neck, his words speaking to my being on a level no man had reached before. Deeper than lust or primal instinct, his words were like a prayer from scripture itself.
“I should like to be torn,” I whispered, completely and utterly under his spell.
“Jane…” He seemed to be struggling with his mind, violently wrestling with some silent demon even though I was perfectly willing to destroy myself despite my better judgment.
“Edward.”
It was the first time I’d spoken his name, and it sounded heavy on the air. Like I’d woven a spell, he broke with his demon and struck.
His lips were rough as he took me, and when he kissed me again, he forced his way inside until his taste—which was of the Irish whiskey he favored—overwhelmed me. I lost control of myself and thrust my tongue against his, my arms winding around his waist. I felt the tight muscles in his back ripple as my palms rubbed along them, enticing his kiss to deepen further.
I began to throb between my legs as my desire grew, and when his hands moved from my face to explore my body, I pressed harder against him. I could feel how much he wanted to indulge in pleasure, and the rumble in his chest when I rubbed against his firmness, confirmed it.
His mouth barely broke away from mine for what felt like an age as I allowed my palms to raise and stroke the rough stubble on his jaw. My fingertips delighted in the harshness of it, and when I buried them in his hair and tugged, he made the most delightful sound.
I would have let Edward Rochester tear me into tiny little pieces if he’d wanted—and do whatever he wished, no matter how depraved—but as our movements became heavier and more passionate, he drew back suddenly, severing our connection.
Immediately, I was cold.
His chest heaved with labored breaths, and his eyes sparkled, but he did not look at me directly. He was closed off to me, perhaps more than he’d been before, and I knew he regretted the intimacy that had just occurred. I’d been right to turn away from my feelings, but his pull had been too strong. I was weak-willed.
I felt a tear slip from my eye as I cowered against the wall, a million pinpricks of pain shooting directly into my heart without remorse. Never had I experienced such anguish and rejection! Not even the harsh treatment from my aunt came close to the tear that was opening up in my chest at that very moment.
Without a single word, Edward retreated, turning his back on me and disappearing as abruptly as he’d appeared. The door slammed, closing me in the library as a solitary figure of heartache, and the sound signaled a finality that broke me in two.
Stupid little Jane Doe!
His absence after such euphoria was so brutal I felt it in my very soul.
When I could gather myself, I fled, vowing never to return to the library.
