It was always the same, time after time. She'd bury her face into a pillow, screw her eyes shut, stare at the wall… anything but look at him. She would grit her teeth and bite her tongue, anything to stop herself from moaning with pleasure. She didn't want him to know that she enjoyed it.

If he had been a less observant man, he would have thought he was forcing himself upon her, and he wasn't one to take things by force…except kingdoms, that is. Had he been a less observant man, he would have thought she despised him, wanted nothing to do with him. But it wasn't that she didn't want him, didn't want it. Oh, how he knew she did. She tried so hard to hide it, but she couldn't fool him. The way she began to open for him at his touch of her thigh, before she remembered – and she always would – and went rigid. The way she'd start to lean into his kisses, get lost in them, but for a moment…before inevitably pulling away, like she always did. As much as he enjoyed games in the bedroom, his wife pretending that she was repulsed by him wasn't really something he was eager to act out.

It wasn't really something he wanted to experience outside the bedroom, either. She would be polite, but cold; she would hold her nose in the air and would even sneer at him when the two of them were alone. But he'd seen her. Oh, Anna thought she was being terribly crafty, but he'd seen her lustful gazes from the corner of his eye. He'd seen her straighten her back and cross her legs when she saw him train with his sword. He'd even seen a softness, a fondness there at times when he thought she must be reminiscing; that look would appear when he laughed, when he fumbled, when he hummed under his breath. His gentle ways of reminding her of their first evening together seemed to have no greater effect than a brief smile from his queen, something that would have to be rectified. If only there was some way to show her –

The king paused, in the middle of straightening his cravat in front of the large mirror situated in their bedroom. He might have just found a solution to his problem…

He was waiting for her when she entered their chamber that night, sat in a comfortable chair by the fire.

"Anna," he smiled pleasantly, looking up from the book he had been reading to pass the time.

She nodded stiffly, her hands clasped. He knew what she was thinking. Anna never addressed him unless she absolutely had to; she didn't want the taste of his name on her lips, nor to suffer calling him either husband or king.

"Anna, please," he stood, making his way to her. "Must it always be this way between us?"

"I don't know what you mean," she said, stepping back and not meeting his gaze, looking straight past him to the wall. He felt his temper flare; he hadn't gotten married so his wife could ignore him the way his family had over the years.

"Dammit Anna, look at me!"

She jumped, looking up at him in surprise; he had never raised his voice to her before. Finally having caught her attention, he took her chin in his hand so she couldn't look away again.

"I am your husband," he reminded her softly. "You cannot spend the rest of our marriage avoiding eye contact with me,"

"I don't see why not,"

"Why do you do this? Pretend that you hate me?"

She let out a bitter laugh, narrowing her eyes at him. "Oh I can assure you that there is no pretence, my king. I loathe you, loathe any time I have to even be in the same room as you,"

He felt a thrill run through him as she finally addressed him, even though it had been dripping with sarcasm. He hated the tension between them both, but damned if her harsh tongue didn't fire him up every time. He couldn't help but wonder if she realised this.

"Oh, Anna, I think we both know that's not quite true,"

"Think what you want, it doesn't change anything," She hissed. "I still despise the very ground you walk upon."

"You say that with such fire, but how am I supposed to believe you when it dies as soon as I look away?"

"What are you talking about?" She glared up at him, her features carefully arranged into an expression of defiance. The problem was that Anna had only started doing this recently; she had always worn her heart on her sleeve. Hans had been doing this for years, he knew what to look for.

"You're nothing but an angry kitten, really. All claws and teeth when I go to pet you, but practically circling my ankles when I'm not,"

Anna snorted and crossed her arms. "I don't know what you think I do when you're not gracing me with your attention, but I'm certainly not pining for you,"

He leaned forward slightly, as if to divulge a secret. "I've heard you, you know. Whimpering for me. I've seen you emerge from our chambers looking oh-so-very ashamed, a blush on your cheeks and sweat on your brow. Did you think I wouldn't notice my things going missing? Gloves, cravats…" A slow smile spread across his face as she froze, her eyes wide. He had her attention now. Good. He tutted. "Dear dear, Anna…what exactly are you getting up to all by yourself in the daytime?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm far too busy to – to do what it is you're suggesting!"

"No matter how busy someone is, they can always make time for something they desire. What I find curious, though, is how you continue to spurn me in the evenings, but spend the days calling my name. Care to enlighten me?"

Anna flushed, but stood her ground. "I have no idea where you're getting these ridiculous ideas from! I'm not taking your things, and I most certainly am not calling your name, as much as you wish I would."

"Are you really going to try and deny it?"

"Of course I am! I have better things to do with my time than raid your wardrobe and – and that," She crossed her arms, blushing furiously.

"So what you're saying is, someone's been breaking into our room? And stealing – from the king, no less,"

"What? No, how could any of what I said mean that?"

"Well Anna, if it's not you, then someone is coming in here and taking my personal items. Although it is odd…" he arched a brow. "They miraculously reappear with the clean laundry. So I suppose it seems less that someone is stealing… more like using my things. Repeatedly."

"Oh," She had turned rather pink. "You're right, that is most – bizarre. Although…are you sure you're not just…losing track of your things?" Her defiant front had crumbled and she had slipped back into her old, awkward self. She was even pressing her thumb into her palm anxiously, something he hadn't seen her do for quite a while. She babbled on: "I mean, I do that sort of thing all the time!"

"I'm quite aware of how disorganised you are," He glanced over to her side of the bedroom, which was a lot messier than his. "But I always notice when things aren't where they should be."

"Oh," She said again. "What – what things did you say were being used? Perhaps…perhaps one of the servants is playing dress up?"

She really was a terrible liar.

"Do you really think so?" He widened his eyes as if he were shocked. "We're going to have to look into this then. We can't have a servant running around, using our things as they please." He paused, gauging her reaction. "In fact, if we're not sure who it is, we might have to replace the entirety of the staff. I won't have people working for me if I cannot trust them,"

"S-surely there's no need for that! I'm sure if we just…just…" Hans bit back a smirk at how flustered she was becoming – it was a welcome relief to her persistent coolness.

"Just what, Anna? Tell them to stop? Do you think that will really work?"

"Well -"

"And what if they've been going through your things as well?"

"Oh, well, I'm sure they haven't been…"

"How do you know?" He demanded, stepping closer. "How can you possibly be sure? Unless…" He bent to press his lips against her ear, his breath eliciting a shiver from the queen. "Unless this whole thing is a pack of lies because you won't admit to what a slut you are,"

She gasped, shoulders stiffening, but otherwise held her ground.

"See? You're not even bothering to deny it this time…" He ran a gloved hand across her bare shoulder and up her throat to her cheek, turning her head so that she faced him. "Are you?"

She looked like a startled animal, eyes wide and chest heaving; where before she wouldn't even look at him, she now appeared unable to tear her eyes away from his. She shook her head slightly.

"No," she breathed.

"Well, of course not. There would be no point really, we both know what you're like," He chuckled, bringing his other hand up to the small of her back. "So desperate for your husband that you have to sneak in and toy with his things when he's not around. Tell me, Anna, what is it you do with my gloves?" He smirked and lowered his voice. "Do you put them on and pretend that your hands are mine?"

She bit her lip and looked away, face flaming. Hans felt his heart stutter in his chest; he knew this was what she'd been up to, but the confirmation of her guilty blush still managed to affect him. She'd been in here, on their bed, wishing her hand was his. It was beautiful, really.

"I obviously haven't been paying enough attention to you," he murmured. "Time to rectify that, don't you think?"

He gently guided her towards the bed, shedding his jacket as he went. When the backs of her legs hit the mattress, he pushed her down onto it and sunk to his knees, helping her to remove her cumbersome dress. With her skirts pooled around her calves, he caught her in a kiss, letting her unbutton his waistcoat and the shirt below. He broke away to untie his cravat and shrug off his things, leaning back in to nibble up her throat and along her jaw as she fumbled with his breeches.

"Get – on the bed," he huffed, nodding to the centre of their large four-poster. As she hoisted herself backwards, he straightened up, hopping on each leg as he removed his boots and then his trousers. Naked apart from his gloves, he joined her on top of their plush quilt.

So far so good, but it was often around this time when Anna would start to close off, and Hans wasn't sure he'd be able to take another night of watching his wife seize up, even if it was all a front. He let his hand slide up her stomach as he leaned close to her, his other hand cupping her cheek.

"I have something for you," he whispered.

"Oh?" She opened her eyes, which had been shut as she savoured the feel of his hand on her skin. "A present?" she smiled lazily, eyes fluttering shut.

"You could say that," he laughed under his breath. "Look," He flipped her so that she was on her front, sprawled on her hands and knees. She looked up, expecting to see maybe some truffles, or perhaps a wrapped gift box, but all she saw was…them?

"What?" she breathed, forehead creasing in confusion, her mirror image doing the same. The full length mirror that usually stood facing their window had been moved to the other side of their bed, offering a perfect view of everything they were doing.

"Do you like it, my love?" he cooed, pressing himself against her from behind. Her head shot up and she caught her reflection, though she quickly looked away in shame.

"No! I can't – we can't – not like this!"

"Are you sure?" He brought a hand forward to cup her breast, kneading the soft flesh and toying with her nipple. The queen let out a soft cry and pressed herself against him, biting her lip to try and silence herself. "Because I don't think you've considered the possibilities…" He dragged his lips up along her spine, grinning into her shivers. Anna let out a gasp and pitched forward, attempting to hide her face in the bedding.

"No," he growled. "Not this time," His hand encircled her throat, thumb and forefinger forcing her head up, forcing her to look. Her eyes met her own in the mirror, not screwed up in despair, or wide with fear, but dark and swirling with lust. Between the animal look in her eyes, her flushed skin and bedraggled hair, she barely recognised herself; what had Hans done to her?

He leaned down to nip at her neck, working his way up to her earlobe. "Do you see now?" he purred. "See how much you want this, how much you want me," His words rumbled in his chest, humming against the curve of her back.

"You like to pretend you don't, but I know better." His eyes met with her reflection's, and he gave a satisfied smirk before turning back to mutter in her ear. "You fucking love this, don't you? You can't lie to me, and you can't lie to yourself…not when you can see right in front of you how much you want my cock inside you,"

She watched herself moan before she even realised what she was doing, watched herself spread her legs before she even realised she wanted to; everything seemed to be happening before she was fully aware of her actions, before she realised she'd made any conscious decisions.

"There's a good girl," He leaned back and released her neck, smoothing his hand down her back to rest at the base of her spine. She clutched at the sheets as he pushed himself into her, her eyes fixated on the clenched muscles of his lower stomach. Anna moaned again, not sure if it were from the sensation of Hans filling her, or finally being able to see his face as he did so; she'd been so determined to not let herself feel pleasured by him that she'd completely ignored what she'd been missing this whole time.

She stared at his reflection as he began to rock into her, his face flushed and eyes lowered. He glanced up, catching her gaze before shaking his head slightly. He leaned forward again, planting his hands either side of her on the mattress so he could tease the spot behind her ear.

"Don't look at me," he commanded quietly. "You'll miss the show," He tilted her head so she was looking directly into her own eyes again, her breath catching at the expression on her face. If this was how she looked every time they laid together, it was no wonder Hans had seen right through her.

"Just look at you…" he murmured, trailing a few kisses down her neck before drawing back. "Look at your face as I bury myself in you," he gave a particularly violent thrust, and Anna saw her mouth gape open in a silent cry, brows creased and eyes glassy. "Watch the way you press yourself against me, always wanting more like the greedy little whore you are,"

A moan rose, unbidden, in her throat. She was usually an expert at keeping quiet whilst Hans did unspeakable things to her, but something was different today, something had snapped. Usually she would find a way to close herself off, manage to shut her eyes and block out the beautiful sight of Hans riding her. But now, caught between the eyes of her husband and those of herself, she felt herself start to unravel beneath him.

"Hate me, do you, Anna?" he chuckled darkly. "I – don't – fucking – think – so," He grunted each word in time with his thrusts, fingers digging into her hips.

Her brain seemed to be full of some sort of swirling fog; she couldn't focus on much apart from the sensations lancing through her, only the odd word drifting across her mind like fuck or more. If she hadn't been able to see herself in the mirror, she wouldn't even have known if she were saying these things out loud.

"God, look how much you want this," he gave a breathy laugh. "You really are just a whore after all,"

She gasped beneath him, her gaze still focused on the mirror. Hans still couldn't quite believe this had worked; this was the most Anna had let herself go since they had wed months ago. Having his queen writhe beneath him was certainly satisfying, but it still wasn't enough – something was still missing…

He slid out as he felt her thighs start to quiver, biting his lip and overriding the urge to plunge straight back in.

"No, no…what are you doing? You can't stop," Her eyes frantically searched his in the mirror and she pushed back against him. "Please,"

He suppressed a shudder at the sight of her on her hands and knees, begging for him. It was everything he'd imagined it to be.

"I'll keep going, if you agree to do something for me,"

"Anything," she whispered, eyes wide.

"Say my name," He stroked her side before moving his hand around to trail down her stomach. "Say it when you come. Scream it when you come. Say it first thing in the morning and whisper it last thing at night," He moved his hand further down, letting a finger ghost over her clit.

"Ahhh…fuck…." She looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror, swallowing visibly before shutting her eyes. "H-Hans…"

He rammed himself back inside her with a groan, feeling her clench around him. "S-Say it again," he panted. "Louder this time," He curled himself around her, teeth grazing her shoulder. "I want the whole palace to know that the king is fucking his queen,"

Each cry of his name grew louder, mingling with the sound of damp skin against skin as she lurched back against him, her eyes burning when they met his reflected in the glass. Hans thought it couldn't get any better than seeing Anna beg, but watching his name tumble from her lips after months of scorn was driving him wild; he drove himself deeper inside and sunk his teeth into her delicate skin, her cries beneath him only inflaming him more.

"H-ans…" with a final choked gasp of his name, Anna slumped forward, panting heavily. The exquisite sensation of her rippling around his length was enough to finish him off; he gave a few final pumps, filling her up with his royal seed before pulling out.

He lowered himself on top of her, wrapping his arms around her and rolling over so that they were both on their sides.

"Anna?" He found her hand, interlacing their fingers and bringing it up to his lips to brush them against her knuckles. She shifted, shuffling closer and pressing her back against his chest.

"Hans?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. Hearing her say his name, not dripping with contempt, or high and keening with lust, but soft and gentle and caring…it was just like that first night again, all that time ago.

"I love you," he buried his nose in her hair, waiting, hoping. The last time he'd said these words to her she'd not spoken to him for the rest of the evening. After a few seconds, the hand holding his tightened a little, just for a moment.

"I love you too, Hans,"