A/N: Hello all and welcome to chapter 14 of this glorious filth I try and call a story. Last we left off, we got to see what everyone likes. Smut. Specifically, smut with Reaver. Can you blame me for that? I mean…it is Reaver after all.

Dark Desires

Summary: When Reaver is bored in the throne room waiting for the king, he and the princess, Annabel, have a talk about her one day taking the throne. He didn't expect to help her in a bloody coup.

*Awakening*

When Annabel woke up the next morning, there was not a single doubt in her mind. Last night's experience with Reaver made it the best night of her life. Never before had she felt so alive and wake up the next day still exhausted. The tales of Reaver's sexual exploits were not words of mere fantasy; they were completely and utterly true. He was able to sustain himself longer than anyone she had been with, able to continue pounding away inside her for more than three hours with ease.

She was currently nude in Reaver's grand and luxurious bed, a thin blanket barely covering her breasts. Her hair was a dishevelled mess, sweaty and sticking to her forehead. She would need to clean up before making her return to the castle, lest she get asked any sort of awkward questions by the servants or Skorm forbid Sir Walter. Of all the people who she didn't want to know about her affair with the businessman, her mentor and father figure was definitely on that list. She could already anticipate the disappointment he would have, but he wouldn't understand why she did pursue him.

Reaver strode into his room briskly, his lean chest still bare, but his arms were laden with a platter full of exquisite food that one of his servants cooked up. "Good morning, my little sweet."

The princess sat up, wincing a little as she did. Her legs felt numb and wobbly and she crawled over to him with a sultry purr leaving her lips. "Good morning, handsome." She was still sore and clumsy from her experience with Reaver, though it was a fantastic feeling. It was more addicting than spilling blood, more addicting than the finest wine. By Skorm, it would be very difficult to not get used to it.

"Did you rest well, dear? I imagine it was more comfortable than that dreary old bed your brother provides." Reaver's lips curled up into a smirk.

"Very well." Annabel purred. "I can hardly feel my legs."

Reaver set the tray down and helped the princess onto her feet, letting her steady herself against him. The feeling slowly returned to her legs and she kissed his bare chest, biting to leave marks. "Last night was the most exhilarating night of my life. By Skorm, what have I been doing all these years cooped up in the castle like some wounded deer? If it weren't for you, I'd continue living the dreariest of lives, unaware of this delicious prize awaiting me."

"Well you are most welcome." He smirked and patted her messy hair. "After you're done eating, may I suggest you take a hot bath in the room to your right? We wouldn't want his majesty to get his knickers in a twist after finding out about our little affair."

"I wouldn't call that little," the princess replied coyly, gesturing to his covered crotch. "No one had ever made me feel like this before."

"And how do you feel?" he asked.

"Alive," Annabel answered. "More alive than I have in a long time."

"I'm glad to be of service, my little sweet." Reaver smirked and took a pull from one of his unmarked bottles of liquor. Supposedly it was imported rum from Samarkand, much more potent than the tame alcohol they typically served in Albion's taverns.

The princess pulled away from him and picked up her clothes from the floor. They were scattered across the bedroom that Reaver affectionately referred to as his, 'pleasure chamber'. It was most certainly that after what he did to her. Marks lined her neck and breasts, proof of him marking his territory. He claimed her as his own and she was only too happy to be his.

"I think I'll clean up first. Don't eat everything without me." She smirked over her shoulder. Leaving Reaver behind she walked towards the room where the bathhouse was located. The servants had already prepared it for her arrival and she let out a satisfied groan as she eased herself into the steaming hot water, relaxing her aches. She didn't notice it at first, having only been aware of the numbness in her legs, but her back did feel rather stiff.

'I never thought I would have the aches of a soldier at my age.' She blew a sticky strand of hair away from her face. 'One night with Reaver utterly ruined me. I shouldn't be too surprised; his dexterity and stamina are of course going to be amazing as a Hero of Skill.'

The princess sat in the tub for a little longer before washing her hair and face. The damn makeup she had applied the day before was completely ruined and needed to be removed. It cost a pretty penny, but money was not something the princess was trifled with. It would be relatively easy for her to ask Jasper to fetch a new set from the city or she could do it herself.

Now that she was alone, she had to think of an excuse to give her brother when he found out she was not in the castle last night. 'What do I tell him? I obviously can't say I was with Reaver. Logan would throw a fit.' She curled her lip in annoyance.

'Spending the night in the Cow and Corset, maybe? It's believable enough. But he'd probably go and ask the owner if I stayed there. Dammit. I should have put more thought into this before I did it. This mistake is on me.'

'But wait, once he finds out, he'll want to keep a closer eye on me and forbid me from leaving the castle. This once again puts me in close proximity to him. I can make it work. I just need a few moments to formulate a strategy.' Annabel smiled ruthlessly. While she did pursue a relationship with Reaver, she did not lose sight of her main goal to usurp her brother's rule. Having him keeping an eye on her while she feigned innocence would make him even more paranoid, especially since he had yet to catch her doing anything suspicious.

The princess reluctantly removed herself from the warm embrace of the bath and wrapped a towel around her body to dry herself off. Once properly dry she went back to the bedroom and collected her clothes, putting them on. Reaver himself was already fully clothed and he offered her a bite to eat.

Annabel took it graciously, sitting next to him on the soft and messy bed. "This is delicious."

"I'm glad you enjoy it. It wasn't easy making sure those incompetent buffoons didn't completely mess it up." Reaver scoffed. "Blasted servants. At least the butler is competent most of the times. Even if he is a bit of a nuisance."

"You hate those who can't do the task properly? Sounds like something else we have in common." She winked at him, continuing to eat her food. "I daresay, did you ever ask what Elliot was doing in the factories? I figured a spoiled brat like him would be afraid of getting a bit of oil on his hands."

"I did ask, yes," the Pirate King admitted. "He looked at me with a glare and told me that he was there to take some of the pressure off of those under my employment. Said something about unfair working conditions, but as you can see for yourself, they are more than fair. They make good wages and most of the time go back home to their families. No long hours and very few injuries. Their arguments are invalid right from the start."

"Did he ever suspect you?" she asked curiously. "Surely he knew you didn't like him."

"Not at all." Reaver smirked. "That's what made his death all the more satisfying. Him coming to the factory was the greatest luck I could have asked for. I didn't have to lift a bloody finger. I let the assassin do the dirty work. I just enjoy the results."

Annabel shared a kiss with him and sighed, standing up once she had finished her meal. "I'm afraid I have to go."

"Of course dear." Was that disappointment she heard slip into his tone? It was good to know he felt the same way. She didn't want this to be a one night fling either. She craved so much more that a single night simply could not provide. It was nice to have a partner who was able to prove he was an equal to her. Sure she enjoyed dominating Elliot, but he was so dull in the bedroom. Reaver was able to overpower her assault with ease, though that didn't mean he didn't enjoy being on the receiving end every once in awhile.

"Reaver, can this not be a one night thing?" she asked quietly. "I don't ever want to go back to the tedious disappointment of someone like Elliot. That kind of dreariness can never satisfy my urges."

"I was sort of hoping you'd say that." Reaver's disappointment was replaced by a sleazy grin and he kissed her roughly, making her squeal. "Don't fret, my sweet. This will be our dirty little secret."

Annabel thought she had finally found what she was searching for all this time when it came to the bedroom. And she was right.

When Annabel arrived back in the castle, she let out a frustrated huff at the sight of her brother anxiously pacing back and forth at the bottom of the stairs leading to the throne room. "Oh bloody hell..." 'Here's hoping that excuse will work. I cleaned the stench of sex off of me so he shouldn't be able to detect anything. I just hope he is gullible enough to believe it.'

When she entered, Logan stormed up to her furiously, teeth bared in a snarl. "Where the bloody hell have you been!?" By Skorm he was livid.

"I was out mourning my beloved," Annabel answered stiffly. "Am I not allowed to do that?"

"Not when you disappear for an entire night without so much as an explanation!" he snapped. Logan glared at her for a bit more before straightening up, swallowing a lump in his throat and wiping his face down. He regained his composure and let out a sigh. "Annabel, I'm only too aware that you have grown into a remarkable young woman. But outside these walls, the world is dangerous. I'm only worried for your safety. These past few weeks have me a little more than concerned. I fear a revolution is in the air and I don't want anything horrible to happen to you. You are the only sister I have."

"Logan, I can fight. You've seen my power firsthand," she reminded, eyes narrowed. "If anyone raises a finger, I'll tear their bloody arm off. I'm a Hero, not a weak child. Yes I am your younger sister, but I am not a helpless maiden who needs someone to get her out of trouble. I can fight my own battles. I'm not afraid."

"I'm aware of that." Logan gritted his teeth. "But you have to understand. You have a vital role in my kingdom, as one of my most trusted advisors in anything regarding the court or the safety of my people. I need you, Annabel. A king cannot hope to rule efficiently with poor advisors, and I would hate to something happened to you. As such, I need you here, safe. Please, for the time being, all I ask is that you at least say to one of my soldiers where you are going if you leave the castle for a time."

'Not the response I imagined I would get, but it works. I can still go down into the city without needing to worry him.' "Very well," she conceded. "I accept."

"Thank you, Annabel." Logan breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, I'm afraid you are needed this morning. One of Bowerstone's protestors has demanded an audience with me over an issue over the Bowerstone Orphanage."

"The orphanage? I'm listening." Her curiosity was piqued now.

"The building has suffered an incredible amount of damage in recent storms and such has fallen into disrepair," he explained. "The representative from Bowerstone wants me to supply funds to restore it, which would cost quite a fortune."

"How long do I have to form a counter argument?" Annabel asked.

"Ten minutes. I'm sorry; I know it is short on notice but I can't delay this meeting anymore," Logan apologized. "That's why I'm asking for you to speak."

"Do not fret. That is more than enough time. Remember, it's me after all." She chuckled. "I can come up with counterstatements quickly and decisively." She didn't mean to brag, of course, but it was the hard truth. When it came to arguing points in Albion's court she was better than almost any of Logan's other advisors. The lone exception to that rule was Reaver. The sly bastard had a way with words that even she could not match at the moment.

"Very well. Meet me in the throne room in ten minutes," Logan said. "I'd rather deal with this as soon as possible, so please make your argument convincing."

"I will," she promised.

Good, he didn't even suspect a thing.

Ten minutes later, Annabel entered the throne room as requested. Her brother was already waiting for her, slouched in the throne with a bored expression on his face. No doubt he found these bloody court meetings as dull as she did on the rare occasion. A young blond man wearing a black suit stood before him, his piercing blue eyes raking over the princess's form as she arrived.

"Ah, there you are. Shall we begin?" he asked curtly.

"Yes. We shall." Logan yawned. "The matter before us today is the future of the Bowerstone Orphanage. Alexander will speak for the disentitled people of the city. Annabel will dispute his cause. You may speak."

"Your majesty." Alexander bowed his head graciously. "As you know, the Bowerstone Orphanage has long been home to the poor and orphaned. Sadly, in recent times the building has fallen into serious disrepair and diseases are too common. I ask of you that you lend a hand in restoring the building so we can provide more for those who are suffering on our cold streets. As you know, most people in Bowerstone are not sympathetic to one's struggles. This would send a message that you do care about your subjects, regardless of their wealth or influence."

"Annabel?" The king looked over at her expectantly. "What do you have to say?"

"My king." The princess strode forward confidently and held her head high. "While he makes several key points in his statements, I'm afraid that the fact of the matter is that the orphanage is beyond a simple repair. It would take a lot of money to restore it, far more than we can spare at the present time. However, there is a very easy and simple solution to this rather convoluted issue we find ourselves with. Bowerstone's industrial sector had many homes built alongside the factories, many of which are uninhabited and in clean condition. Why don't we simply relocate the poor into those homes while we build up enough gold for the repairs? That is, unless Reaver Industries has a different plan, but seeing as he is not present at the time, I cannot speak for him as well."

"How would you propose we get this gold?" Logan asked.

"Well, as you know, we can introduce a new act in an effort to prevent us from having a population issue," she replied. "This act would essentially charge the citizens for every child they bring into this world, regardless of their social standing. It would also solve our shortage issues we've suffered with recently."

"That's...not a terrible idea," Alexander admitted. "As a representative of my movement, I can get behind such an act. Of course some might see this as an act of tyranny, but one cannot argue with the results. Managing a kingdom is similar to managing a business, after all."

"Then it is settled. The disenfranchised members of Bowerstone will be relocated into new homes and the child act will be put into effect as of now," Logan declared. "Once we have collected enough funds to repair the shelter, repairs will begin immediately. The court is dismissed for today."

"Thank you, your majesty." Alexander bowed. "With your permission, I can assist in the overseeing of this movement."

Annabel didn't know why, but she could sense something strange about the blond man. He was dressed in a black business suit, but at the same time he did not carry himself like a man of business. No, he carried himself like a seasoned fighter, one who had seen countless battles before. If anything she was curious. Why would a simple man from one of Bowerstone's protest groups carry himself like a veteran soldier? Just who was he, really?

He was the first to leave the throne room and Logan approached the princess, smiling. "Well done, sister. I was prepared to have to sit in that bloody chair for another hour or two at the least, but you managed to make it end as quickly as possible. You have quite the talent for this sort of work."

"Thank you." Annabel bowed her head. "I only wish the best for Albion, and that seemed like the best move at the time. I only wish I could do more. I'm sorry if I've seemed...overly aggressive lately. I just have been under a lot of stress honing my powers and improving my capabilities. Not to mention Elliot's death." She wiped a fake tear away.

"No reason to worry." Logan gave her a weary smile. "I know you will always have my back, no matter how bleak the situation seems. That's what family is for, is it not? We stick together to the bitter end."

"Of course." Annabel smiled in return. Poor, simple Logan. What he failed to realise that day was that she had truly awakened what she was capable of and he would suffer for his weak minded compassion.

A/N: And that's a wrap folks. I hope you all have a good holiday and stay safe! Merry Christmas!

-A Lovestruck A2#0097