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Attention: The material on this page contains explicit adult content of a sexual nature and is not suitable for under 18s or anyone sensitive to this kind of material.
About the book:
When an eager and curious Jane Eyre arrives at Thornfield Hall her sexual desires are instantly awakened. Who is the enigmatic Rochester whom she instantly feels attracted to, what are the strange and yet captivating noises coming from the attic, and why does the very air she breathes feel heavy with passion?
Only one thing Is certain. Jane Eyre may have arrived at Thornfield an unfulfilled and tentative woman, but she will leave a very different person...
Thanks to the publishers, we've got an exclusive extract below. Extract is taken from Chapter 7.
‘Goodnight, then, sir,’ I said, departing.
He seemed surprised – very inconsistently so, as he had just told me to go.
‘What!’ he exclaimed, stepping towards me. ‘Are you quitting me already, and in that way?’
‘You said I might go, sir.’
‘But not without taking leave. Not without a word or two of acknowledgement and goodwill. Not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. Why, you have saved my life! Snatched me from a horrible and excruciating death! And you walk past me as if we were mutual strangers! At least shake hands.’
He held out his hand. I gave him mine. He took it first in one, then in both his own. Then, to my astonishment, he kissed my fingertips. A ripple of desire seemed to run from the place where his lips had made contact with my flesh, right through me.
‘You have saved my life, Jane. I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a debt. I cannot say more.’
He paused, gazed at me, and I was drawn in, magnetized by his eyes.
‘Goodnight again, sir,’ I said, but my voice was no more than a whisper. ‘You do not owe me a debt.’
‘I knew,’ he continued, holding my palm now against his lips, ‘you would do me good in some way, at some time. I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you. Their expression and smile did not,’ again he stopped, closing in, ‘did not strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing.’
I felt the great overcoat he had given me slide from my shoulders to the floor, but I did not feel the loss of heat, because my whole body seemed flushed with a new kind of warmth.
‘I have heard of good genii and I believe there are grains of truth in the wildest fable, for you are mine. My cherished preserver.’
Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.
You are mine. His words swept into my heart, like the luxurious chord of a harp, but my reason dampened the music. ‘He cannot mean it,’ I thought.
‘I am glad I happened to be awake,’ I said, but my knees were trembling and weak. Closer and closer, his eyes drew me in.
Fear overtook me then. Not fear of him, but fear of myself, of the inner life I’d held privately for so long, my desire, my carnal longings, all threatening to rise to the surface and engulf me.
I quickly turned to go. I could not trust myself to stay. I could not trust myself to stare into his eyes and what they suggested.
‘What! You will go?’ he said, reaching out and drawing me back to him.
‘I am cold, sir,’ I lied.
‘Cold? Yes and standing in a pool! Go, then, Jane, go!’
His voice sounded as if he meant it, but he still retained my hand, and I could not free it. I looked from his grip to his eyes. They burned even brighter now.
And then he was gently pulling me towards him, as if he still expected me to take flight. In the soft, dim light of the candle, his face filled my vision.
‘You cannot leave me like this,’ he breathed.
I was trembling uncontrollably, but I could not pull away.
He stared down at me, drawing me further towards his warm embrace. Closer, closer he came, daring me to buckle and move away, but I was hopelessly, blissfully trapped and borne away on those dark seas I had glimpsed in his eyes for so long, leaving the shores of everything I knew to be right to sail into this unchartered water.
Then his arms were around me and then, even before the soft gasp could leave my mouth, his lips were on mine. The simple fusion, in the split second after it had happened, seemed so obvious that surely it been destined all along. Quiet, tentative, we stood together suspended in a golden sacred moment.
I knew then that I had the choice, that even now it wasn’t too late. I could break away, I could still step back onto the shore.
But I couldn’t. There was not enough reason or willpower left within me to resist him. My whole being only wanted this moment to go on and on, and I surrendered to it, melting against him.
Then, with a low, delicious groan, he seemed to let something go too, the sound of his surrender igniting something within me as surely as the room itself had been aflame earlier.
Oh, reader. The kiss.
How many poems, how many novels I had read, and yet nothing had ever come close to describing this feeling. So simple, so lauded and documented, but yet so entirely new to me, and so different to how I had imagined. I had kissed Emma, of course, but it had not been anything like this. How could I compare a girl with a man? They were incomparable.
As I was engulfed in him, the very exotic maleness of him, he kissed me more passionately, his tongue probing into my mouth to find my tongue. And I was lost. His kiss seemed to open my very soul and bare me naked before him.
I felt my feet lift from the ground as he held me, and then his firm, hard body pressing against my own, two thin nightgowns separating us, and I was desperate for his flesh.
‘Oh, Jane, Jane,’ he murmured, kissing my neck, his hands cupping my buttocks, squeezing them, pulling me towards him.
I gasped as I felt the hardness of his member against my stomach.
I wanted to lift my legs up around his waist and feel him enter me, so consumed was I with the need to fuse and mesh with him.
My hands clasped his hair, my mouth opening, my tongue yielding to him.
Then a noise in the corridor made us freeze.
This extract was published with permission from Pan Macmillan UK and Pan Macmillan SA.
You can also read our review of Jane Eyre Laid Bare.
To purchase a copy of the book, visit Kalahari.com.
About the book:
When an eager and curious Jane Eyre arrives at Thornfield Hall her sexual desires are instantly awakened. Who is the enigmatic Rochester whom she instantly feels attracted to, what are the strange and yet captivating noises coming from the attic, and why does the very air she breathes feel heavy with passion?
Only one thing Is certain. Jane Eyre may have arrived at Thornfield an unfulfilled and tentative woman, but she will leave a very different person...
Thanks to the publishers, we've got an exclusive extract below. Extract is taken from Chapter 7.
‘Goodnight, then, sir,’ I said, departing.
He seemed surprised – very inconsistently so, as he had just told me to go.
‘What!’ he exclaimed, stepping towards me. ‘Are you quitting me already, and in that way?’
‘You said I might go, sir.’
‘But not without taking leave. Not without a word or two of acknowledgement and goodwill. Not, in short, in that brief, dry fashion. Why, you have saved my life! Snatched me from a horrible and excruciating death! And you walk past me as if we were mutual strangers! At least shake hands.’
He held out his hand. I gave him mine. He took it first in one, then in both his own. Then, to my astonishment, he kissed my fingertips. A ripple of desire seemed to run from the place where his lips had made contact with my flesh, right through me.
‘You have saved my life, Jane. I have a pleasure in owing you so immense a debt. I cannot say more.’
He paused, gazed at me, and I was drawn in, magnetized by his eyes.
‘Goodnight again, sir,’ I said, but my voice was no more than a whisper. ‘You do not owe me a debt.’
‘I knew,’ he continued, holding my palm now against his lips, ‘you would do me good in some way, at some time. I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you. Their expression and smile did not,’ again he stopped, closing in, ‘did not strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing.’
I felt the great overcoat he had given me slide from my shoulders to the floor, but I did not feel the loss of heat, because my whole body seemed flushed with a new kind of warmth.
‘I have heard of good genii and I believe there are grains of truth in the wildest fable, for you are mine. My cherished preserver.’
Strange energy was in his voice, strange fire in his look.
You are mine. His words swept into my heart, like the luxurious chord of a harp, but my reason dampened the music. ‘He cannot mean it,’ I thought.
‘I am glad I happened to be awake,’ I said, but my knees were trembling and weak. Closer and closer, his eyes drew me in.
Fear overtook me then. Not fear of him, but fear of myself, of the inner life I’d held privately for so long, my desire, my carnal longings, all threatening to rise to the surface and engulf me.
I quickly turned to go. I could not trust myself to stay. I could not trust myself to stare into his eyes and what they suggested.
‘What! You will go?’ he said, reaching out and drawing me back to him.
‘I am cold, sir,’ I lied.
‘Cold? Yes and standing in a pool! Go, then, Jane, go!’
His voice sounded as if he meant it, but he still retained my hand, and I could not free it. I looked from his grip to his eyes. They burned even brighter now.
And then he was gently pulling me towards him, as if he still expected me to take flight. In the soft, dim light of the candle, his face filled my vision.
‘You cannot leave me like this,’ he breathed.
I was trembling uncontrollably, but I could not pull away.
He stared down at me, drawing me further towards his warm embrace. Closer, closer he came, daring me to buckle and move away, but I was hopelessly, blissfully trapped and borne away on those dark seas I had glimpsed in his eyes for so long, leaving the shores of everything I knew to be right to sail into this unchartered water.
Then his arms were around me and then, even before the soft gasp could leave my mouth, his lips were on mine. The simple fusion, in the split second after it had happened, seemed so obvious that surely it been destined all along. Quiet, tentative, we stood together suspended in a golden sacred moment.
I knew then that I had the choice, that even now it wasn’t too late. I could break away, I could still step back onto the shore.
But I couldn’t. There was not enough reason or willpower left within me to resist him. My whole being only wanted this moment to go on and on, and I surrendered to it, melting against him.
Then, with a low, delicious groan, he seemed to let something go too, the sound of his surrender igniting something within me as surely as the room itself had been aflame earlier.
Oh, reader. The kiss.
How many poems, how many novels I had read, and yet nothing had ever come close to describing this feeling. So simple, so lauded and documented, but yet so entirely new to me, and so different to how I had imagined. I had kissed Emma, of course, but it had not been anything like this. How could I compare a girl with a man? They were incomparable.
As I was engulfed in him, the very exotic maleness of him, he kissed me more passionately, his tongue probing into my mouth to find my tongue. And I was lost. His kiss seemed to open my very soul and bare me naked before him.
I felt my feet lift from the ground as he held me, and then his firm, hard body pressing against my own, two thin nightgowns separating us, and I was desperate for his flesh.
‘Oh, Jane, Jane,’ he murmured, kissing my neck, his hands cupping my buttocks, squeezing them, pulling me towards him.
I gasped as I felt the hardness of his member against my stomach.
I wanted to lift my legs up around his waist and feel him enter me, so consumed was I with the need to fuse and mesh with him.
My hands clasped his hair, my mouth opening, my tongue yielding to him.
Then a noise in the corridor made us freeze.
This extract was published with permission from Pan Macmillan UK and Pan Macmillan SA.
You can also read our review of Jane Eyre Laid Bare.
To purchase a copy of the book, visit Kalahari.com.
