Author's note: Reign's not mine and all that jazz...

And "Stay" is still in the works btw, chapter 8 almost done. So sorry for the delay! Work's crazy busy right now but this little drabble just forced itself on my mind after I watched Catherine rejecting Henry again tonight. *le sigh* Rated T.

Solitaire

Stay with me, Henry's voice sounded in her head as she walked away from him, her feet unsteady, her heart racing, her lips craving his to kiss her. But what her flesh desired, her mind wouldn't give her. After all, Henry had just killed a woman during an act of adultery. She should not forgive him for humiliating her again. And yet his eyes had shown her so much lust, so much of what she longed to hear. I want you, Catherine. She sighed, her chest unable to heave in the confinement of her corset. Only Henry made her feel that way, showed her the limits of her female existence. That's why she had to put some distance between herself and him, find a retreat where she could be Caterina again.

When she finally reached her chambers, Catherine found her servants cleaning her possessions, making her bed and everything else she didn't want to see on an average day and especially not now. "Leave me," she ordered, her voice stern like the Queen of France while her heart was beating fast, her Medici blood boiling from the memories of Henry's touch.

Had it really just been a couple of weeks since he had last caressed her skin? Catherine closed her eyes, then rid herself of her day dress to allow her chest to take in all the air she needed to keep a clear head. But that alone didn't do, so she undressed herself completely in dire hope to get control again over her head. As she slipped into her dressing gown, her breathing slowed down but the tightness in her chest remained.

Stay with me, his voice was like a distant memory but his eyes haunted her as soon as she closed hers to concentrate on her breathing. "Henry," she whispered to herself, then shed her gown and slid underneath the covers of her freshly made bed.

Keeping her eyes closed, Catherine tried to will her husband's face away, but she didn't stand a chance. Her heart had already taken over, seduced by the softness of her linens against the bareness of her skin, his scent lingering in the air from the clothes she had just dropped on the floor. She couldn't stand not touching herself where she knew he would now stroke her if she had accepted his invitation to share his bed. As her mind replayed memories of his mouth inflaming her skin, her hands now did his job, making her blush much faster than usual. Although she always said an extra prayer afterwards for this particular sin, she couldn't stop herself from committing it. Her husband's eyes haunted her while she brought herself the pleasure she wished he would give her every day. And day it was, not dark outside as usual when she couldn't sleep without him on her mind.

"Henry," she whispered again, her voice ragged now as she approached her climax. His name always fell from her lips, even when he had enraged or betrayed her. She couldn't help it. It was the kind of secret she liked to keep to herself, how easily her husband could weaken her knees.

"Henry," her voice sounded again, a little louder now, so she buried her face into her pillow to muffle the sound of the Queen coming undone without her King.

What she wouldn't give for him to find her now like this, her body bare for him as well as her soul. His name fell from her lips again, inaudible now for the second climax always muted her tongue. Catching her breath, she lay between her sheets, crawling and stretching like a playful kitten. Stay with me, his voice haunted her again. "If only you could see me now, my love," she thought to herself, a melancholy smile brushing over her lips. "Then you'd know how hard it is for me to deny you this."