-Chapter Three-

I found myself unable to shake the near intoxication that Reaver's kiss had brought on. My body was in a frenzy even hours later. It was dark, but I chose not to eat supper. I remained holed up in my bedroom for the rest of the evening, trying to read a book but unable to focus. When I wasn't thinking of Reaver, I was thinking of Walter and the people lost to The Crawler. When my hand-maidens prepared my bath, I was relieved. It would hopefully prove to be a proper distraction from my thoughts..

I sunk into the hot water, and I sighed. A sort of relief washed through me, and I leaned back into the large, luxurious tub, submerging myself in the silence in the water. I closed my eyes, holding my breath and trying to focus on nothing but the feeling of the quiet. I realized that the entire time I was with Reaver, my mind didn't stray to the dark places it did when I was alone. I didn't once think of Walter or Logan or Elliot. I was thoroughly distracted. Perhaps I'd needed that. I let myself resurface, and I pulled in a deep, calming breath.

I took a sponge to my neck, but it only ignited thoughts of Reaver's mouth as the water trailed across my skin. I moved the sponge to wash the rest of my body in a hurry. A long bath had been my dream earlier, but now I felt trapped in my thoughts within the water, now. I discarded the sponge when I was satisfied that I was clean all over. I soaked, trying to meditate, as Kalin had once demonstrated to me. I focused on my breathing and nothing else, but the moment Reaver crossed my mind, my breath increased, and I found myself raising from the tub.

I squeezed the water from my hair, and I dried my body quickly with a towel. I moved to dry my hair next, and I hurried toward my wardrobe. I found that instead of a nightgown, I was gripping at a simple white dress. The material was thinner than it should have been for such a chilly night, but the rest of my dresses were too fine to simply be taken off as soon as I arrived... Perhaps he'd catch the subtle joke in my choice of dress. No black. Only white. I threw it on the bed, and I pulled my undergarments on in a hurry.

My impulses surged, and I steadied myself. Was I truly going to go through with this? Going there of my own accord would not be falling prey to his charm and talented mouth. I would be the one fully accountable for my actions.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts, and I heard my lady-in-waiting, Constance enter the room. Her long curling black hair was swept out of her face, putting her pretty, angular face on display. "Your Majesty, are you leaving?"

I cleared my throat. "I am, but no one must know."

A soft smile pulled at her lips, and she asked, "Shall I stay in the room for the night to make sure no one comes?" She hurried toward the bed to take a hold of the dress, inspecting it for a moment..

"Yes," I confirmed with a soft nod. "Thank you, Constance."

"Sneaking off in the middle of the night in all white? Are you eloping, Your Majesty?" She chuckled as she eased me into the thing. She made quick work of the buttons and tied the sash firmly around my waist.

"No," I almost laughed. "Not at all."

"I wonder then, who you are hurrying off to meet up with at such a late hour," She pondered aloud. "Ben Finn has always seemed to carry a torch..."

"For Page, who doesn't know he exists," I told her. "He left for Samarkand shortly after Walter's funeral.." I had hoped he would have waited at least a few weeks before going off to conquer all of the adventures the world had to offer. He was my one remaining friend that seemed to want nothing from me but companionship and someone to drink with. Perhaps he was dealing with his feelings over losing both Swift and Walter in such close succession.

"I see," She said. "So you're just popping out for..."

"For a quick visit," I said. "I will be back tonight."

"You'll be needing a cloak," Constance informed me, hurrying to fetch one. It was a deep sapphire blue, but it didn't look as if it would do much to protect from the rain. Though, hopefully, it wouldn't need to. I was comfortable enough with my teleportation skill that I was sure I would be able to land directly on Reaver's doorstep. I would probably not even get a single drop of rain on me.

I had miscalculated my teleportation by a few hundred meters. I ended up near the gates of Reaver's mansion rather than on the front step, and I had to grab the hem of my dress and run for the door. The water was icy and my skin stung from the harshness of the wind. I sloshed through a great deal of puddles, running toward my goal. My dress was probably ruined and stained with mud.

As I hurried up the stairs, I paused to survey the damage done to my cloak and dress. The cloak was sodden, having protected me from none of the rain, and I whipped it off of myself, to see that my dress had fared no better. The white gossamer fabric had gone nearly transparent from the wetness, and I cursed softly under my breath. My hair stuck against my face, As another gust of wind swept across me, I felt goosebumps raise all over. I folded my cloak over one arm, and I raised a trembling hand to the door, reaching for the knocker.

Before I could finish knocking, the door opened, and Murphy's face lit up with shock. His hesitant eyes trailed downward and his face reddened dramatically. He pulled the door fully open, and he stepped to the side, ushering me within. "Y-your Majesty! Come in! R-r-right away!" He took my cloak from me as I stepped across the threshold, and he continued on, "I will fetch Master R-reaver at once."

"No need," Reaver said grandly from the top of the stairs. He had one hand on his hip, and a smile in his eyes. He descended, dressed in only a fine black shirt and matching trousers. He wore shiny black boots, even at such a late hour, but I supposed I didn't believe he would putter around the house at all hours unless his feet were covered. Gods forbid they touch the bare floor... "Go on, Murphy. You are dismissed."

Murphy bowed in my direction before scampering off to see that my cloak was properly stowed, undoubtedly.

As he approached me, Reaver's eyes trailed all over my body, and he seemed pleased with the translucence of my dress. He cupped my face with one hand, and his tongue clicked softly. "You are positively frozen, Your Majesty." His hand felt so hot in contrast to the iciness of my skin. His other hand found the small of my back, where it worked at untying the sash of my dress. "I am shocked to see you in such a state. I had hoped to see you wet with desire for me, not the pouring rain." His eyes darkened with lust. "Though, I believe I can be satisfied with you as you are." He took my mouth with a ferocity that I hadn't anticipated, burning away all of the dark thoughts that had consumed me earlier.

My stomach leapt upward, and I stepped into the radiating warmth of his body. I reached to grab a fistful of the fabric of his shirt, pulling him tighter against my mouth. I felt his hands moving slowly up my spine and to the first of the buttons that fastened my dress.

"Reaver, what are you-?" I asked as I pulled forcefully away from his kiss. I glanced around, not sure if any servants were present to see.

"Hush, now," He said huskily. It slid off of my body easily, hitting the ground with a soft wet noise. "No one would dare to intrude when I have specifically ordered them not to."

"You knew I was coming," I breathed, even my insides trembling, now.

"But of course," He said, running a finger across my shoulder. "I am no fool, Keira."

I raised my eyebrow at his informality as his hand dipped down to the buttons lining down the front of my chemise.

"Oh, I have no intention of getting tangled up in protocol right now," He said. "I do, however, have every intention of having you in more ways than you could possibly fathom." He slid the chemise away from my body, baring my breasts fully to him. His eyes lit up with desire, and he chuckled softly to himself. "The cold does such amazing things to the female form, does it not?" He cupped my breast with his warm hand, brushing his thumb across the already stiffened peak. He kissed my mouth once more, his hands leaving a blooming warmth as he explored my skin, starting a slow fire within me. He parted from me, and he spun me to face away from him. His arms looped around me, pressing me back against him. His mouth worked diligently at the side of my neck, the hot, moist pressure of his tongue against my flesh causing it to gather up into goosebumps once more.

I gulped hard, and I took another look around the foyer before looping my thumbs beneath the cold fabric of my underthings. I pushed them off of my body and I heard him inhale sharply at my boldness.

He twirled me to face him once more, obviously feeling the need to take me in completely. His mouth fell open, as if to remark, while his eyes trailed across my bare form. His fingers trailed across the blossom of will-lines that spiraled outward just below my breasts, at the core of me. They activated in a faint blue glow at his touch. He gauged my reaction as his fingers delved further down seeking the only warmth of my body.

"Must it be right here?" I asked, but my breath left me as he trailed a finger down the heated apex of my thighs. My legs betrayed me as he stroked my long-neglected womanhood, but he slipped an arm around my melting body, supporting me, feeling me.

"I suppose a change in venue would be appropriate," He sighed,. "Though, I would not mind having you right here." His eyes drifted down to the polished black and white marble of the floor, but he withdrew his hand from between my legs. He gathered me up in his arms, much to my surprise, and his eyes glanced around, as if he were not sure where he'd like to go. He took the stairs with great speed, an impatient edge to his movements. He pushed a cracked door open, and we burst forth into a bedroom.

It was his, for sure, as it was decorated with more paintings of his chiseled visage, but I didn't have much time to observe, for he deposited me roughly on the blood-red duvet of his bed. I pushed myself to a seated position as I ran a hand through my damp, gnarled hair.

He was unbuttoning his shirt, and when he slipped it off of his body, I nearly gasped. His skin was sheer alabaster perfection. Every muscle was toned and taut, and he was mostly hairless save for a faint trail that disappeared beneath his trousers. He pushed me back into the soft duvet, and he was on top of me in an instant, the hard heat of his body pressed against the coolness of my soft curves. His fingers swirled and explored my breasts, hips and thighs as he licked and nipped at the hollow of my throat and toward my collarbone.

"Ah, my little croquette," He sighed. "You are delicious, and I have yet to reach some of the best parts."

I finally felt my coldness being replaced with warmth as he trailed his lips across the valley of my breasts, taking time to suck the peak of each into his mouth. His eyes raised up to meet with mine, and the sheer intensity of his glare made my stomach flutter. I couldn't find the words to either encourage or discourage him. I was speechless as he suddenly dipped much lower meeting with the wetness between my thighs. I gasped, and my stomach gathered up in a bundle of anxiety.

His fingers gripped greedily at my hips, driving them upward to meet his mouth, and I felt a ragged groan escape me. All of my muscles tensed in anticipation as he devoured me ravenously, nearly ruthlessly. A swelling pleasure built within me, and I sucked in a hurried breath of air. This was not something I had anticipated, and I tangled my fingers in his hair, almost trying to pull him away. I was almost afraid of letting go, giving into him, though that was what my intention had originally been, wasn't it ? He did not relent, but my struggle only drove him onward. His tongue was indeed as talented as he had earlier boasted, for I came undone with only a few more moment's effort on his part. A hoarse cry of completion erupted from me as heat flooded my body, and I trembled as I arched into him.

He moved faster than I, in my hazy state of reverie, could perceive, and his mouth claimed mine in a long, drugging kiss. He stroked my throbbing core for a few moments, sending overwhelming, nearly painful pleasure through me. He removed his hand before he slid it beneath me, pulling me to him, nearly crushing me with strength I hadn't known he possessed. The taste of my own desire on his mouth was bold and shocking, but I melted against him. I raised my hands to grasp the sides of his face, a hot, hungry noise pushing from my lungs.

His lips parted from mine as he caught his breath, and he let me fall back into the feather mattress. He rose from the bed with a grace and fluidity that I would not have expected from anyone but him, and he searched through a drawer. When he retrieved what he sought, his eyes turned back to me. He said nothing; he merely smirked.

Before I could move or speak, he thoroughly distracted me by swiftly taking down his trousers along with whatever undergarments he might have worn. His impressive manhood sprang into view, and my jaw very nearly dropped in shock. It made the only other I'd seen almost insignificant in comparison. I'd heard stories, yes, but I would never have imagined that they were so very true.

"What's the matter, my pet?" He asked, gripping himself and unrolling a condom down his hard length. "Are you intimidated?" His trademark grin was spread across his luscious mouth.

I sucked up my courage, and I shook my head. I'd faced balverines and highwaymen, and I was sure I would be up to this challenge. If his mouth had been that skilled, I could only imagine the fabled legend of his skill with his manhood were true. I gave him a smirk to match his own, and I beckoned him forth by curling my finger.

He crawled across the bed, placing himself between my thighs, and he pressed himself against the slickness of my entrance. His gaze held my face, most likely watching for my reaction as he guided himself within me, almost taking my breath away. As his thickness stretched and filled me completely, a thrilled, enraptured expression crept across his features, and he groaned, "I would never have imagined that you would be so very hot." He thrust experimentally into me once more, and he sighed, tacking on, "And tight." He groaned, driving into me with a bit more force and speed. His breathing was steady and practiced, but his body moved vigorously within me.

I lifted my hips to meet his every thrust, the sensation sending a ripple of toe-curling gratification through me. "More," I found myself moaning against his throat as I placed a few needy kisses there. The feel of him inside of me was dizzying, but addictive. I had never felt such euphoria, and I wanted much, much more.

He slowed, and he withdrew, his eyes full of a sinister glint. He sat back, and his hand trailed down my front, teasing slowly and agonizingly. He pulled me to my knees to join him, and he placed a soft kiss across my lips before spinning me about and sending me to my hands and knees before him. "This view is nearly as pleasing as the front," He said, his fingers trailing down to cup my rear.

I watched over my shoulder as he took a hold of me and drove into me from behind. The feeling was breathtaking—much more intense than before. I felt a hot flush spread across my cheeks, and I pulled in a sharp breath as he slid a hand up my spine, then back down.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, following each word with a sharp buck of his hips.

My hands gathered up the fabric of the bedspread, and my eyes fluttered shut. I nodded, already panting for breath and trembling due to the tight friction that my position created around him. As he stroked a newly discovered erogenous zone within me, I could feel another build-up of nerves and pleasure budding rapidly inside of me.

Somehow sensing my closeness, he moved a hand to cup my sex, caressing his palm against the sensitive nub of flesh that lay within. It was nearly too much, but I didn't dare ask him to stop. I cried out loudly as my passion crested in a dizzying explosion of feeling. My thighs clenched, and I let out a wavering moan of his name. As the rush of feeling subsided, my body sagged, and I nearly collapsed into the mattress.

He pulled from inside of me to let me ease down into the softness of his bed. His fingers danced down my back, sending sharp pulses of tingling through the aftermath of the ferocious orgasm he'd just inflicted on me. "Oh, Keira, my sweet," He tutted, his fingers tapping on the curve of my behind. "Do not tell me that you are already spent."

I rolled myself onto my back, and my eyes surveyed him. A flush had spread through his body, and my keen eye detected his pulse jumping against his throat. My chest heaved up and down, but my body still craved his. I pushed up to my knees, and I moved toward him, looping one arm around his neck, and I said, "I merely needed to catch my breath." I wrapped my hand around the thick, rigid protrusion between us. As I pressed searing kisses against his jawline, I stroked him once, then again before releasing him.

"Well, then," He said, backing away to almost dive into the pillows. He rolled onto his back, and his eyes seemed to darken with erotic heat as he glanced deliberately down towards his straining member. "There's no need to be shy. Come along." His mouth set into a tempting half-smirk.

I threw a leg over him, and I straddled his hips, my slickness rubbing his hardness. I eased my hips back and forth, enjoying the friction, but he was impatient. He gripped himself in one hand and urged my hips forward with the other.

I sank down onto him, and I heard a moan rumble deep in his chest. He helped me forge a cadence of our bodies, and his hands moved to grip my rear possessively, driving me harder against him as he thrust upward into me.

I couldn't keep track of how long we remained like this, moving furiously against one another, but my body gave into at least three more shuddering, hot orgasms before Reaver's magnificent body began to quiver beneath me. He tugged me downward, changing the angle of our bond slightly, and he gasped in approval. His eyes flicked between our working bodies and my face as an uninhibited cry of release burst from him. His face tensed, and his grip on my body tightened as he climaxed.

The intensity of his touch and the hot sound of his release pushed me over the edge I had been teetering on, and I leaned closer to him, my breasts brushing his chest as I finished the both of us off with a few final movements of my hips. When his arms fell slack onto the bed, I stilled myself, then pulled away from him, eliciting a soft hiss of half-pleasure from Reaver as we parted.

I fell into the velvety duvet, and I drew in a deep, quaking breath. The exhaustion set in nearly immediately, and I remembered that I still had not slept since Walter's funeral. I tried to keep my sagging eyes open, and I pushed the hair from my face.

Reaver stirred beside me, and I glanced to see him. He had turned onto his side, resting his head casually in one hand, taking me in. "You truly are a magnificent creature, Your Majesty."

"So it's 'Your Majesty' once more, is it?" I questioned, turning on my side as well.

"Well, it does have a nice ring to it," Reaver noted. "I would relish such a title if one were to be bestowed upon me." His eyebrows shot up and down, letting me know that he was referencing our discussion from earlier in the day.

"A duke is referred to as 'Your Grace.' Not 'Your Majesty,' Reaver," I told him.

"Ah, yes," He sighed. "Well, one cannot dwell on misfortune such as that."

"You have not yet even received the title, and you're already displeased with it?" I laughed.

"Displeased, no," He said. "Unsatisfied, yes."

"That makes very nearly no sense, Reaver," I said, furrowing my brow at him.

"You will see," He said, grinning. "All in good time."

"I do not know what that means, but I am sure I will not like it," I sighed, knowing that he would not reveal his hand until he was ready. I eased myself into a sitting position, and I turned to set my feet on the cool floor beside the bed. I stood, stretching softly.

"Where do you think you are going?" He asked, suddenly behind me, tugging me backward to sit on the bed once more and pressing his chest against my back. He pulled my hair away from my neck, and he stroked the flesh tenderly with his slender fingers.

"I cannot sleep here, Reaver," I said, my eyes turning back to him over my shoulder.

"Oh, I had no intention of sleeping any time soon, ma cherie," He purred, his hand dipping down to cup one of my breasts suggestively while his other arm locked around my waist.

"It is late," I protested. "I am exhausted."

"If you are able to stand, then I have not properly done my duty," He bubbled with mirth as he nipped lightly at my shoulder. "Most women mewl and whine when I ask them to leave, yet here you are, leaving of your own accord."

"I am not most women, Reaver," I said matter-of-factly. I pulled his arms from around me, and I stood once more, though I nearly regretted it. I was sore, and I knew that I would be even more tender in the morning. I bent to grab his shirt, and I looked back to him as I pulled it on.

"You realize that is my favorite," Reaver said, his eyebrows slanting downward in a look of extreme displeasure.

"Is it?" I asked, buttoning it down my body. It covered all of the necessary bits, and I was confidant that I would be able to teleport into my room with extreme accuracy. I ran my finger across the embroidered logo of Reaver's factories just over the breast, and I shrugged softly.

"I will have to retrieve it from you one day," He said, standing to walk around me, displaying his nudity proudly. "Though, I must admit that it looks rather striking on you." He grabbed my hand, twirling me to face him. "Stay, and I will see to it that you have proper clothes in the morning." He laughed. "I will also see to it that you enjoy yourself even more than you already have...numerous times."

"I think not, Reaver," I said. I pressed my lips together, but I couldn't restrain a smile. The fact that he was requesting for me to stay must have been a sign that I was a better lover than the countless others he could surely call upon at such an hour. "I have much I need to do, as per your request, and I need to sleep in my own bed."

His lips turned downward, and he sighed. "I suppose I will not force you to stay, though, I can certainly try to persuade you." His fingers drifted up the bottom of his shirt, laying a blazing trail up the back of my thigh, sending a shudder up my spine. "I am not nearly finished with you," He leaned down to whisper against my ear. Though his voice inspired my desire to burn once more within me, I shook my head. This was a man that was not used to hearing the word 'no' when it came to matters of the bedroom. He stroked my chin, his eyes growing more and more impatient.

I stepped from his reach, and I shook my head again. "Not tonight, Reaver."

He put his hands on his hips, his lips pursed angrily. "So be it, Your Majesty. I do hope that you enjoy your cold, empty bed."

The last thing I saw before I teleported was his pouting, angry face, and I almost laughed. The man could throw a tantrum. When I rematerialized in my bedchambers, I saw that Constance had remained in the room, as she'd promised. She'd fallen asleep in one of the wing back chairs in set before the fireplace with Angus at her feet. She looked peaceful, but she woke quickly once I took a step. She woke quickly, springing to her feet, and thoroughly disturbing Angus from his peaceful rest.

"Your Majesty, She said quickly as she strode toward the wardrobe, briefly glancing at the shirt that I wore. She grinned from ear to ear as she fetched my sleeping gown.

I unbuttoned Reaver's shirt, and she pulled it from my shoulders before sliding my nightgown onto my body. I pulled my arms through the sleeves, and I saw her holding the fine black material of Reaver's shirt in her hand.

"Should I, ah...have this returned to its owner?" She asked, her hand tracing across the emblem on the breast, now knowing for sure who I had been with.

I shook my head as I approached her, taking the garment. "I'll return it personally."

"Oh, I see," She said with a grin.

"Good night, Constance," I said with a short nod, dismissing her.

She curtsied deeply, and she returned with, "Good night, Your Majesty." She exited the room swiftly, her little body sliding through the narrowly cracked door.

I glanced back down to Reaver's shirt in my hand, and I rubbed the soft fabric. I moved across the room to stow it in the back of my wardrobe. The smell of him rolled into the air as I shook it out, making my body ache with regret that I had returned home. I hung it on an empty hanger, and I closed the doors.

I moved about the room, lowering the light on my lamps before finding my way into bed. Angus hopped into his spot in the bed beside me, and he gave me a sleepy, questioning look. "It's a long story," I sighed. "One that your little doggy mind probably would not comprehend."
He snorted before closing his eyes and settling in close to me, throwing a paw protectively over my heart.

I could only smile as I stroked his head. My mind was clear, and I knew that, at last, I would sleep.

A/N: Alright, so I hope you enjoyed this one as much as I enjoyed writing it! I'd like to personally thank my reviewers so far: Wendy17, Fellow Fable Fan, Angelacm, and .Snake! Thanks for letting me know what you though! I really appreciate the feedback!