I’ve never been attracted to bad boys.
They’re just too cocky and shallow for my taste, and I despise the way they act like being wickedly gorgeous and sexy makes them God’s gift to women.
Yeah right.
That may work on others but not me. I’m too smart for that.
But then I start working for Mr. Rochester, and everything changes.
I’ve never met someone more horribly rude and self-centered, and even worse is the way he’s so damn moody. Just being in his presence makes me feel dizzy. One moment he’s viciously cruel, another moment he’s exquisitely charming. One moment he seems invincible and out of my league, another moment he’s broodingly vulnerable and mysteriously tormented.
But the worst part is when we’re alone – when he gazes at me like he wants to eat me, it makes me feel so shamefully wet.
I hate it. I hate HIM, Mr. Rochester, and if he thinks I’m going to let him get away with acting like my lord and master just because he’s my boss and I find him a little bit too sexy for my own good---
You don’t own me, Mr. Rochester, I hiss at him.
But the words only make him smirk, and he whispers into my ear, ‘Not yet’

About this book...

Dear Anonymous Readers,
Let's just call him X - the first and only guy I've ever loved – also the first and only guy who's broken my heart. I used to think that trauma caused by ugly breakups was only a thing in books, movies – and yes, manga – until of course it happened to me.
On hindsight, I really should have known better. He had so many issues it was only a matter of time before one of them drove us apart. And even if that hadn't happened, we still wouldn't have worked out. He was this perfect, gorgeous guy who had everything going for him while I...well, let's just say I didn't turn out to be this super-smart girl everyone thought me to be.
I hate him as much as I fear him, so much so that even in my dreams I can't make myself think of his name, much less say it. It's like my mind's completely blocked the sound of it, and now his name works like a breakdown trigger. If I let myself say his name, that's it, and believe me – what happens after isn't pretty.
So yeah, it's that bad between us, but I'm determined to put it all behind me now. I've moved to another country, doing my best to get my shite together. I've even made myself attend a goukon (a group dating thing) in hopes of finding love again.
Everything's going well...
Until I bumped into him.
X.
Bloody. Bloody. Bloody hell.
The sight of him has my world spinning out of its axis, my face draining of color, my throat locking oxygen out---
I can't remember feeling more terrified than I was at that moment. But the worst thing is – I can't remember when the last time I felt so alive either.

​“You were right when you said that nothing will change the way you are. But it doesn’t mean you’re without hope, di Luca. It only means you need to wait for the right person---” He saw Christien’s lips twist in distaste and Derek made a gesture of acceptance. “Yes, I fucking know how clichéd that sounds. But I also know it’s true. You can’t feel the way you’re supposed to because the right person hasn’t come along yet to teach you how to feel---”
“Not all of us can be as lucky as you,” Christien said tightly.
“You’ve been my friend for almost my entire life, di Luca. You’re a good man, and I refuse to believe someone like you would not have---”
“Let me rephrase then,” Christien cut him off tautly. “Even if I were to find a woman who’s my ideal match, the way you believe Jaike Hepburn is for you – it doesn’t mean I can care for her the way you care for Jaike.” Jerking his gaze away, Derek’s friend muttered under his breath, “Let’s just accept I’m a lost cause.”
“I’d be an asshole if I did,” Derek stated grimly, “and you – a coward.”
Christien stiffened.
“At least just wait. Give that anonymous girl time to find her way to you, di Luca. Wait until she stumbles into your life, wait and see if she can have you feeling something strong enough to make you look uncool. If that girl came into your life and you still don’t change---” Derek drew a deep, tense breath. “---I’ll kill you myself if that’s what it takes to free you.”

​ 
When Arabella finally turned to face the shadows, she heard her mysterious billionaire ask, “Qu’est-ce qui se passé, ma belle?” His soft, accented words tickled her ears, and despite herself, she could feel a smile starting to tug at the corner of her lips. Fortunately, she caught herself in time and instead managed to ask irritably, “You know I don’t speak French, so why do you keep using it with me?”
“Because I know you have a fetish for it,” the beast answered simply.
“I do not!” Actually, she did, but the bad thing about it was that she had never known she had one – until she had heard him speak French.
“Je pense que c’est l’accent,” the beast murmured.
Inside her shoes, Arabella’s toes curled hard. Shit!
“I think,” the beast translated, “it’s the accent.” He then switched back to English, saying, “It is very sexy, oui?”

The room was almost cavernous in its vastness, the darkness interrupted only by the golden light coming from the ornate Victorian chandelier hanging over the majestic four-poster bed. Its rays spilled over the tapestried walls, the rich midnight-black carpet, and the priceless furniture in the room, one of which was an antique camelback sofa where the master and his mistress were currently fucking.
“Aurélien, oh, oh!” The golden-haired woman, naked from the waist down, bounced wildly on her lover’s lap, her slender body wanting more and more of the monstrous cock she was impaled on.
“M-more, s'il vous plaît---” The woman threw her head back with a moan, a look of rapture falling on her beautiful face as her lover gave her the fast and furious pounding she needed.  “Oui, oui!” She found herself clutching his rock-hard shoulders as his movements became more forceful, almost deliciously violent, and when he ripped her blouse away with his claws, she screamed, not out of fear but of excitement.
Ah, he really was such a beast when it came to sex.
It was just too bad he was one, too, littéralement.
Because if he weren’t one, then she wouldn’t have to---
His claws moved yet again, distracting her with their movement, tiny razor-sharp slashes all dangerously close to her skin. But none of them hurt her – he never did hurt her, no matter how much she begged him.
His slashing claws snipped her bra into pieces, and his palms caught her breasts as they sprung free. Aurélien’s mouth moved towards her breast, and she moaned again as she felt his fangs graze against her protruding nipples.
Ah, he was really so, so good at this.
“Mordez moi, mon amour.”
But Aurélien ignored her request, only laving her nipple with his tongue. It was enough to have her body shudder, but she wanted more. Although she would never admit it to anyone, she wanted the animal in him making love to her.
There was just nothing as exciting, nothing!
And so her sharp nails clawed his back, and Aurélien’s nostrils flared at the scent of blood.
Oui, ma mon amour. She looked into his too-human blue eyes, willing – daring – him to shed his civilized ways. She raked her nails over his back for the second time, and the scent of blood became stronger. “Aurélien,” she implored, “Aurélien, s'il vous plaît--- ”
The younger man gave in with a growl, his fangs sinking just enough into the tender flesh of her breast to cause her the most excruciating mix of pain and pleasure---
She gasped at the lurid beauty of it, but she knew it was not all he could do. “You know what I want---”
A warning growl, but the sound only fed her arousal, and she worked harder to whittle down his resistance, rubbing her breasts against his chest, grinding her pussy down on his beastly coc---
“Mordez moi.” Bite me.
“Mordez moi!”
She cried the words out over and over, no longer begging but demanding. “Mordez moi---aaaaaah!”
Aurélien Savage was biting her, his fangs sinking deep into the soft flesh, and she laughed exultantly as she felt his control breaking apart.
Yes, yes, make love to me like an animal!
​

now, for an extra little something...