My writing skills are slightly rusty; please excuse me if this chapter is rushed. I hope you enjoy, and as always, review!

Chapter Ten (Part Two)

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Henry sank down into his throne once again, his gaze roaming over the room of courtesans. Anne's eyes were bolted to the floor, shocked at what had just occurred between her and her husband. Electric currents were still buzzing up and down her spine from his touch. Her heart was thumping sporadically in her chest, and her cheeks were flaming red.

She swiveled her eyes up for a brief moment. Henry was laughing warmly at something a pretty maiden had whispered in his ear. Anne's stomach lurched. Her head began to pound with annoyance and anger towards him. Could he not keep his attentions focused for but a minute? It was always the newest, most beautiful faces that won Henry's rapture. That was exactly what she was determined to change.

Anne rose from her throne and made hasty apologies to her Court that she was exhausted and needed her sleep. The obvious flush in her cheeks convinced all of Court that she was sickly and needed to rest. All stood to bow to their Queen, bidding her a good night and blessings. Her ladies rushed after her, saddened to be taken from flirting with gentleman for the evening.

The Queen did not look back to see if Henry was watching her exit, but she made a point to sway her hips as she left the room.

"Are you ill, Your Majesty?" Lady Eleanor questioned, concern rattling her voice. Anne shook her head, too preoccupied with thoughts of Henry to answer. She raised the hem of her dress and quickened her pace towards her chambers, eager to be undressed.

Her thoughts darted back and forth in her mind. Would Henry come for her? How soon would it be? After midnight, perhaps? What would he want from her? How much would she give him?

The women finally reached Anne's chambers. Anne gave orders for them to help her undress into a fresh nightgown. The ladies did as they were told. All of them worked in perfect unison to first remove the Queen of her gown, strip her of her corset and pantalets, clothe her with a nightgown, and free her hair of its ribbon.

"Thank you. You may all go rejoin the festivities, if you wish," Anne said in a weary voice. She offered the ladies her hand to kiss and a small smile before they left her chambers and hurried to rejoin the party.

As the last woman disappeared into the shadows of the castle, Anne trotted over to her mirror.

Her icy eyes evaluated her appearance. She needed to look disheveled, but tempting in case Henry did come to her. Anne unbuttoned the front of the gown, revealing a good portion of her creamy skin. She then freed her hair from its perfect bun, allowing the raven tresses to fall in ringlets about her shoulders. These simple alterations made her look a great deal more attractive, but she wanted more. She wanted to be the ultimate picture of desire. Tonight would be the night Henry became hers once again. She had to ensnare him with the most beautiful of traps.

A small sigh escaped her parted lips. Anne knew exactly what had to be done. She reached under the dress and removed the undergarments around her hips and breasts, allowing them to fall to the floor.

Anne looked in the mirror once again. Now, the gauzy material of the nightgown clung to her every curve. Henry's eyes would be able to see directly through it and observe the porcelain skin lying directly underneath. It was certainly not appropriate night attire for a Queen, but it was meant for Henry's eyes to ravish.

Now, the ball was entirely in Henry's court. All Anne was permitted to do was sit and wait. She could go nowhere in her scanty attire.

It seemed as if hours passed. Anne paced her room, back and forth, until her feet grew sore. She washed her face, but crème on her hands, but nothing seemed to pass the time. It began to seem as if Henry was never going to come.

Anne lay down on her bed, allowing her eyes to dip with sleep. She was not going to wait up all night for a man that was probably never going to come.

Yet, at some dark hour between three and four in the morning, a soft knock came to her door. Anne was barely roused from her sleep, when the knock came again, louder. Could it be him? She thought frantically, sliding out from underneath her blankets and hopping out of bed. A sudden chill wound around her, taking Anne by surprise. She then remembered how little clothing was on her lithe figure.

Taking gentle steps towards the door, Anne's heart began to pump vigorously. She had never been more nervous in her lifetime to see a man.

With a final deep breath, she cautiously cracked the door.

"Who is it?" She inquired.

"Only your husband," came Henry's response. He forced the door open and entered the chamber without any permission from Anne.

The room was completely black, considering that Anne had no candles lit. All her eyes could make out was his muscular frame moving towards her.

"I told you to come to my chamber," Henry's voice sounded irritated. He was a mere foot from his wife. She could feel his breath on her lips, and it surprisingly did not reek of alcohol.

"Forgive me," She cooed, taking a small step towards him. Inside, Anne was elated. Henry had sought her out, meaning she had been on his mind. He wanted her. And he wanted her bad enough to barge into her room in the middle of the night. Now, it was Anne's turn to reward him.

"I cut my hand on your door," He said. His mood was indecipherable to Anne in the darkness. She clicked her tongue and took his right hand in hers.

"Is it this one?" She asked in a sweet, flirtatious tone. His head nodded briefly. The air in the room became tighter, more electrically charged.

"On the thumb," Henry added.

Anne's lips curled back in a smile, which was cloaked in the darkness. She brought his hand to her lips, and pushed his thumb into her mouth.

Henry recoiled out of surprise. His muscles then tightened with pleasure. He felt Anne's tongue glide over his wound. She licked it and rolled her tongue over it in an overly sensuous manner, driving him mad.

"All better?"

"Anne…" He moaned her name, clasping his eyes shut.

"Don't speak," She commanded. In one languid move, Anne snatched his left hand and pressed it tightly against her hip. Her lips went to his ear, placing a trail of kisses all over his neck.

Anne immediately felt Henry respond. His muscles were tight against her lips. His heart was racing. It wasn't long before his hands were pawing all over her body. They slithered under her thin nightgown, exploring the tender area between her thighs.

For a few moments, they both lost themselves. Anne cried out loudly as his fingers slipped inside of her. Henry clamped his hand over her mouth. She was losing sight of her purpose. It had been so long since a man had touched her in this way, and her senses were screaming for more.

"Henry," She panted in his ear, as his fingers tore off her night gown. Anne heard his breathing becoming more and more rapid and his movements becoming less and less controlled. He lifted her up and wound both of her legs tightly around his waist.

Henry began to undo his trousers, when Anne came back to herself. Her heart began to slow and her blood ceased gushing. She was forgetting herself. Anne Boleyn was no fool. She would not give herself away to him completely tonight. Henry was beyond excited; he was mad with desire. This was the point where she had to cut him off. Anne had to make him leave, still yearning for her.

"Henry… Henry, no. Henry, stop," She breathed, untangling herself from his hips.

Henry stood, completely perplexed. He watched her naked, bend over and slip her nightgown over her shoulders. His desire for her was wild. He needed her. Henry was exhausted with watching her from a distance. He wanted all of his wife, right now. And he would not be refused. His arms reached out and ensnared Anne, pulling her slim body to his chest. Immediately, his lips covered hers and his tongue was pushed between her teeth. At first, she struggled. But soon he felt her body relax. This made him shutter. Her submission made his eyes blur and heart skip too many beats to count.

Something was dangerously wrong. Anne could feel it. An insignificant moment of kissing was turning into more then she would allow. Before she could protest, Anne could feel her nightgown being bunched around her hips. She began to writhe and struggle, but it made no impact on Henry. His hands grabbed her roughly and pushed her onto the nearest bed.

"Henry, no!" she hissed, shoving against his chest. He only grunted and pressed his lips over hers.

It was all happening too quickly. Before she had time to think of a way to divert Henry, it was too late. Tears of shock sprang to her eyes as he entered her. She gasped and screamed and cried out, to no avail. He began to rock over-top of her, thrusting harder and more quickly the greater she struggled. Anne gasped and arched her back, digging her nails into his back. This only seemed to encourage him. When he was finally finished, he slipped off of her and pulled his trousers back up to his hips.

Anne lay completely still, staring up at the ceiling. She had lost control of the situation and her mind was now swimming. Numbly, she pulled a blanket around herself and rose up to a sitting position. Her hair created a curtain around her face, shielding Henry's view of the anguish in her eyes.

Yet, instead of accepting the obvious defeat facing her, Anne stood up. She removed the blanket from her body and swayed towards Henry, who had been studying her in silence. Anne made no other move, but simply allowed him to observe her perfect form.

"You are the finest of goddesses," He whispered heavily after a long silence. Anne's face remained stony as she glided over to him. She pressed her bare body against him and wound her arms around his neck. She slid her tongue over his lips and bit the lower, drawing blood. All of this she did without feeling, yet she could feel his body tighten and grow moist with sweat.

All she wanted was to drive him wild one last time. Now she wanted him gone. Anne could not stand him any longer.

Abruptly, she pushed him away.

"Leave me," She demanded roughly, turning away from his desperate gaze.

"Anne…"

"I said leave me!" Anne was shaking with anger. She could not mask her feelings. He had taken advantage of her. She had not been willing to give herself up to him, yet he had taken it without warrant. And she loathed herself even more for enjoying it. For the most part, she was suffering from hurt pride.

Henry moved forward and snatched Anne's wrist. He could feel her shaking, and when she peered her wide eyes up at him, he could feel they were filled with anger.

"Release me," She hissed, jerking her wrist away from him.

What had happened to the desirable goddess standing before him just a moment before? She had turned into a furious, spitting snake in a matter of seconds. Something was wrong.

A ray of moonlight pierced the window and shone onto Anne's face. Her eyes were sapphire with fury, and her soft lips pouted. She was beautiful. Henry took her hand very gently now and stared at her face. This stunning, wild, unpredictable woman was his. No other maiden in his castle had her temperament or beauty. None came close. No woman was as clever, or charming, or mothered his only son. None of them were his wife. And yet, he treated them with more regard then he treated her.

"Oh Anne," He whispered, drawing her shaking form into his arms.

"Let me go!" She sobbed, bursting into tears she could no longer hold in. Anne did not want to be held by-by this treacherous pig that treated her as no better than his mistress! She loathed and abhorred Henry Tudor, yet was still absolutely, out of her mind, in love with him.

Henry only held her more tightly to him, petting her hair and cooing into her ear. When her tears had finally stopped flowing like a brook, he kissed her white cheek.

"Anne, let me stay with you tonight," Her hard, tear-filled eyes glared up at him. "Please," He begged. She softened as the practical side of her chimed in. There was nothing she wanted more then to be held safely in his arms for an entire night and this was an opportunity for Anne and Henry to connect once again.

No words needed to be said. Anne crawled under the thick blankets and curled into Henry's chest. This was the first time in what seemed like a century they had lain like this, side by side.

Anne was content knowing she was the only female in possession of Henry that night. Henry was contend with the new feelings generating in his mind.

Neither of them said a word. They lay, listening to one another's heart beat. Anne fell into a deep sleep to the steady lull of her husband's heart.

Henry lie awake, holding Anne and staring at her radiant features as she slept.

He relished every moment, knowing this peace between them would not last.

Yeah, I love cliff-hangers. Please review! Good or bad, I need to know.