Chapter Sixteen

-Reaver-

The door slammed behind me, and I was faced with Wesley, who waited casually outside. His face was smug, as if he'd heard everything, and the rage boiled in the pit of my stomach. I grasped him by his skinny neck, and I pressed him against the wall. "What do you find so amusing, Mister Crane?"

He coughed beneath my grip, but the smile on his face widened. "You have the crown jewels of Albion, and you've cocked it all up, Reaver. Any other man would be thankful for capturing her hand, but-"

My fingers tightened around his throat, and his face reddened, the smile draining away. "Listen here, you insignificant cur. She is my wife. Mine. You have no business trying to enchant her with your empty, frivolous words, nor do you have any business looking at her as more than a subject, do you understand? Or can your tiny brain not hold that much information?"

"She didn't seem to mind my words or my eyes," he choked, his hand moving to my wrist.

"An artist needs eyes, does he not? To observe, to capture, to behold the world as only an artist can?" I questioned, my free hand moving to cup his face. My thumb stroked the orbital socket around his widened crystalline eye. "It would be such a shame for you to lose one...or both of your eyes."

"You wouldn't dare," he spat. I could feel his pulse quicken at the side of his neck.

A slow grin uncurled across my mouth. "I wouldn't?"

His eyes winced shut, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

For a moment, I was excited. I hadn't had the opportunity for such violence in months, and a little part of me craved it. My thumb slid closer to the soft, orb that lay beneath his thick, ginger lashes. I had done this before. It hadn't been especially pleasant, but the little cockroach had deserved it. Suddenly, the excitement fell away, and it was replaced by repulsion. The jealousy crept up inside of me, and I knew that if I did this, I would only tarnish myself in her eyes. I released him hastily, and I stepped away, turning and leaving before another word could be exchanged.

Frustration piled on top of frustration, and I knew that soon I would reach my limit. Something dire would happen, one way or another. My legs carried me swiftly from the hallway, and my hand curled into a fist.

I needed some sort of release, and I needed it quickly. My fuse was already short due to the time of year—the time for my annual offering to The Shadow Court—but with all of these additional burdens dropped onto me, it was nearly unbearable. In another time, I may have already snapped, but I was stronger now, though my strength was not without limits. It was waning, and I could feel the familiar tendrils of stress and apprehension taking hold. I could only hope that whoever I came across the rest of the day would be accommodating because I certainly would not be very pleasant.

-Keira-

I paced across the study, not quite sure what to do with myself. If I left, I might run into Reaver, but there was always the chance that he would return. I smoothed the front of my dress, and I tried to soothe my frazzled nerves. His words had cut deeply, and I almost felt guilty for being so accusatory. I had to remind myself that he had, in fact cheated not even a full fortnight ago.

The door burst open, and I was shocked to see Wesley to return in a silent rush. His eyes never so much as glanced in my direction, and his mouth was tight with something that looked like a mixture of fear and anger. I let him gather his items in silence, and as he left the room, he gave me one, short, fleeting glance before his eyes snapped forward. He closed the door behind him.

I knew immediately that Reaver had sought out Wesley and threatened him with violence. A small angry bubble formed in the pit of my stomach, and I couldn't believe the nerve of my husband. One moment, he was dipping his wick into my handmaiden, and the next moment, he was frothing at the mouth, asserting his possession of me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. Not knowing where Anabelle had gone off to, it seemed that I had the rest of the evening to myself. The thought of climbing into bed and sleeping the rest of the night away was very tempting, especially with the throbbing headache that only worsened with my anxiety.

I stepped out into the gardens for the first time since the dreadful night in the mausoleum. My stomach turned unpleasantly, and I sucked in a breath of warm air. I hurried toward the kitchen entrance, hoping to make it to my quarters without anyone noticing. Perhaps time on my own would do me good. I'd had enough of everyone for the day—especially Reaver.

My eyes strayed toward the statue of Logan, and my lips tightened. Thoughts of the corpse-like apparition of my brother still lingered at the back of my thoughts. It would be a long time, if ever, that I would be able to think of my brother as anything else. Averting my eyes, I lifted the skirt of my gown and ascended the stairs. The armed guards posted at the doors greeted me in unison, bowing their heads into soft nods of respect. I pasted a strained, but hopefully convincing, smile on my face, and swept into the kitchen, catching the chef and all of his assistants off guard.

"Your Majesty!" The chef said, his thick, foreign accent drawing out his vowels. "Will you be taking supper in your chambers tonight?"

"Yes," I affirmed with a short nod. "Thank you."

"It is no problem, Your Majesty," He continued with a nod.

At that moment, Jasper came hurriedly into the kitchen, his eyes widening with surprise as he spotted me. "Your Majesty, I was just coming to confirm your dinner plans. I couldn't find you, so I assumed that you would be taking supper in your chambers."

For a moment, I wanted to cringe that my predictability had been so very obvious, but I simply nodded again.

Jasper's face wrinkled in concern, and he put an arm on my shoulder. "Your Majesty, I do not know what has been troubling you this week, but I would like you to know that it is not your burden to shoulder alone. You have people that care for you."

I brought my eyes up to his, and I felt comforted and ashamed at the same time. I knew I would never be able to tell Jasper what had really happened upon my return to Bowerstone Castle. The shame would be too great. Instead, I stepped toward him, and I patted his shoulder gently. "Thank you, Jasper."

"May I take a walk with you?" He asked, his eyes glancing back toward the kitchen's entrance.

I nodded, and as we made our way up the stairs, I could see Jasper eying me, as if he were trying to string together words. He walked at my side, just a step behind, but he kept up with my pace.

"Your husband has taken on a much more agitated demeanor since your return," Jasper said tentatively.

I sighed. "Things are...complicated."

"Marriage is complicated," Jasper offered. "But your husband's...ah...misstep...do not seem like the sole root of the problem."

He knew about Reaver's infidelity. Of course. How could he not? I was sure that the entirety of the palace staff knew. Reaver hadn't exactly been discreet. He seemed to believe that he didn't have anything to hide. I exhaled. "It was, but..."

"But?" He raised an eyebrow, listening.

I paused just before we exited the corridor into the foyer. "I'm unsure of what to do."

"You are The Queen," Jasper said. "You could do as you wished, and there wouldn't be many people to stop you. You could banish him from Albion if you so pleased." He offered a small smile.

I shook my head. "I don't think I could do that. He's too important."

"Too important to Albion, or too important to you?" Jasper questioned, his eyebrows raising.

My heart jumped up into my throat, and I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came. I turned my eyes toward the staircase, now desperate to escape the conversation. As much as I loved Jasper, this was too much for the moment.

"Jasper, I..." I truly didn't know what to say.

His eyes shifted to a look of soft sympathy momentarily, but he straightened his back, and he bowed his head gently. "Pardon my boldness, Your Majesty. That question was inappropriate. If you'll excuse me, I'll see to it that your meal is prepared and brought to your chambers when you are ready for it."

I gulped softly, and I said, "Thank you, Jasper."

He gave me a deep bow, and he turned to head toward the kitchen once more.

I took the steps with a slow, deliberate pace. I didn't want to rush through the castle to my room. It might rouse suspicion, if my staff wasn't already suspicious of my behavior. I did not want to worry the people any further with my behavior. I needed them to believe that I was getting better.

I folded my hands in front of me, and I turned down the hallway toward the living quarters. It was strangely cleared of guards, and I felt a strange tugging at my heart. Something didn't seem quite right. I stepped further down the corridor, my heart drummed nervously beneath my breast, and I found myself passing up the door to my chambers.

A feminine moan, followed by a soft giggle sounded from behind the door to Reaver's room. I paused, and my fists tightened at my sides. My teeth gritted as I stood waiting, hoping to hear something else. Perhaps I had just imagined it. Would Reaver truly repeat his mistake when he knew that it had wounded me so? I heard another moan, and my feet moved before I could properly think. I sprang toward the door, throwing it open in a fury that rattled the hinges. "Reaver, you-"

I heard a sharp squeak, and I suddenly realized the mistake I'd made in my jealous haste.

Murphy scrambled to cover Anabelle, who had her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. Both were nude, sprawled across Reaver's plush dark duvet. I'd gotten quite the view of Murphy's backside, and Anabelle's ample bosom, and I nearly covered my eyes with embarrassment. When she spotted me, her eyes went wide, and her face flushed a deep red. Murphy sputtered, attempting to form a word, but failing miserably, and I found myself stepping backward to close the door once more.

I backed directly into someone, whose familiar hands closed around my arms. Nervous laughter bubbled out of me before I could turn to face Reaver, and I heard him join in, though his laughter was full of mirth. He turned me around, his face lit up with amusement as he observed me.

"Well, I would, on all other occasions be rather upset with Murphy, but-" His cackling consumed his words, and he shook his head, as if to dismiss his anger absolutely. His eyes met with mine, and his dazzling, sharky grin only broadened.

For a few moments I was tickled with delight at the situation, but when Reaver cupped my face in one hand, my body tensed. This was much closer than I would have liked, and I tried to back from his grip. "Reaver, I really should be-"

His finger moved to press against my lips, silencing me. His gaze had shifted from regalement to smoldering in a matter of moments. "No, you shouldn't," he said firmly.

My body, now pressed between Reaver's and the wooden paneling of the wall, thrummed with a sharp rush of both excitement and worry. My breathing became shallow, and my heart hammered wildly as his fingers stroked the length of my neck. I suddenly felt helpless like a moth moving steadily toward a flame—toward its own destruction. My lips parted, and my eyebrows raised as I tried to think of something, anything, to say.

When his mouth claimed mine completely, I tried to protest, but my arms fell slack at my sides as my body moved instinctively toward his. A flood of warmth spread through me, and I felt a soft moan leave me before I had the sense to restrain myself.

Reaver looped an arm around my waist, dragging me as close to him as I could physically get. He kissed me hungrily, as if he'd been yearning for this for a lifetime.

I came to my senses, and my eyes opened. I couldn't let this happen. I needed time to find myself, to know where I stood. I pushed at his chest, trying to separate him from me, but his free hand caught me. His fingers laced with mine, and he pinned the offending hand over my head.

I found myself grasping at his collar with my other hand, and instead of pushing him away, I held him tightly to me. I could hardly believe it, but even after everything, I still needed this. I still needed him. The need I felt spiraled nearly out of control, and I was not sure if I'd ever get a grasp on myself.

He pulled from the kiss to breathe, and his gaze fixed on mine once more. Lust swirled the piercing darkness of his eyes.

My mouth throbbed from the ferocity of his kiss, and I let out a shaky breath. My fingers loosened around his cravat, which I'd been clutching so tightly that my knuckles had gone white from tension. My knees trembled beneath me, as he loomed closer once more, his mouth barely touching to mine.

"I know that you need me as desperately as I need you..." he murmured against my mouth as he released my hand, trailing his fingers to caress my breast through the soft velvet of my bodice.

The chemistry between us had always been so effortless—natural-but something told me that his possessiveness as of late was due to something else. A flutter of hope moved through me, and I splayed my hands across his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart beneath them.

He drew back to take me in and a slow grin crept across his mouth. His eyes flicked up and down, and he exhaled, "I need to feel you." As his lips moved to devour the length of my neck, his hands drifted to my hips, bunching up the fabric of my skirt, expressing his intention to have me right there against the wall.

A knot of longing formed in the pit of my stomach, and I shook my head. "Not here," I managed to mutter.

"I have been waiting for you for a long time. I cannot wait much longer, mon ange," he groaned, guiding my hand to stroke the swollen bulge of his manhood, demonstrating his need.

My heart fluttered, and I chewed on my lower lip. "My bed chamber is only..." I glanced down the hallway, and the trip seemed to be so very long.

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, nipping and kissing every inch of flesh he could as he pressed me tighter against the wall. One of his arms looped beneath my thigh, bringing it to wrap around his waist, pushing the generous fabric of my skirt up to my hip. He pressed his hardness against the source of my heat, and he groaned unashamedly.

"Someone will see," I hissed, half-excitedly. I looked over the top of his head, down the utterly empty hallway. A little part of me was thrilled at the prospect of the adventure, but the larger part knew that it would be imprudent to allow Reaver to claim me publicly. I was still The Queen, and I had a certain facade of austerity to maintain.

I slipped skillfully from beneath him, and he turned suddenly to face me. His eyes rolled with exasperation, and he huffed impatiently as he grasped me by the wrist. He dragged me down the hall, his eyes slashing back to me every few paces. The sheer intensity of his fleeting gazes made my stomach jump.

He threw open the door to my bedchambers, pulling me inside, and the door closed swiftly behind us. He clicked the lock into place, and his mouth was on mine once more with such a force of desperation that it knocked the wind from my lungs. His tongue danced and curled against mine, and a sound of fierce need left his throat.

I pulled the coat from Reaver's shoulders, and it slipped to the floor with no resistance from him. I snaked my arms around him, and his hands gripped tightly at my backside. I was suddenly off of my feet, and we were moving swiftly toward the bed. When my back touched the mattress, I barely had time to acclimate to the change in position before he was pulling my skirts up around my waist. My undergarments disappeared with a sudden ripping noise, and he settled between my thighs.

With one hand, he supported himself against the bed, and with the other, he worked avidly at unfastening his pants, never once breaking the desperate union of our mouths. I slid my hands between us, tugging his pants down his hips just as he undid them.

Without a moment's pause, he was inside me to the hilt, and I was forced to draw away from his mouth to catch my breath. Spots danced across my vision. The passion of our union was acutely sweet, but also primal and hungry. A ragged groan of relief escaped his parted lips, and his eyes fluttered shut in ecstasy.

As he started a hurried, needy rhythm with his hips, the budding heat within me unfurled, and I dug my fingers into the lean sinew of his shoulder through the soft burgundy fabric of his shirt. My breathing came in shallow pants as I arched my hips into him, matching his erratic, passionate cadence.

"Reaver," my voice was little more than a squeak of tension as I threw my head back against the bed.

His hand captured my chin, tilting my gaze to meet with his. A satisfied thrill was written all over his handsome features, and he spoke through his own punctuated gasps for breath, "Oh, Keira...I have missed this...missed you." His eyes were full of wanton darkness, but there was also a strange, thrilled tenderness about them.

I averted my eyes, the intensity of his stare causing a knot to build in my throat. I pressed my lips together, and I curled an arm around his neck, urging him forward to kiss the side of my throat.

He took the guidance readily, and one of his hands pulled at the collar of my dress. Another loud rip, and my left breast spilled free into the open air. He kneaded the rosy peak of the burgeoning swell between his fingers, sending a jolt of pleasure to compound the building orgasm inside of me. I gasped in surprise, but it was also a noise of encouragement.

Reaver murmured against my neck, "Oh, darling...so soon?"

"Yes," I huffed desperately, almost wanting to damn him for the smug, taunting tone of his voice.

"Look at me," he demanded in a breathy grunt as he pulled from my neck, once more forcing me to meet with his eyes.

I couldn't do anything but stare into his eyes as my limbs stiffened, and I was seized by a rush of sensation so intense that it made my toes curl within my shoes. I cried out, and a tremor of uncontrollable trembling worked its way through me as the warmth of my pleasure spread.

His eyes remained locked on mine as he carried me through the waves of my dizzying release, and his tongue glided across his lips, moistening them. His hand drifted to my face, his thumb stroking across my quivering mouth.

I fell slack against the mattress, and Reaver took this as his opportunity to lean closer, pressing the weight of his body tightly against mine. He ground his hips against me, and I yelped at the sudden change in intensity. His rhythm slowed, and his body loosened.

"I believe I can take my time, now," he explained. "For I am in no hurry for this to be over." He brushed his mouth against mine, and he laughed against my lips. "I have been anticipating this moment for quite some time." He stroked the length of my face. "You are well the worth wait ma très chère."

His voice was tender, genuine, and I found that a knot was growing in my throat once more. I pressed my face against his neck, kissing and nibbling at his flesh but also hiding the budding tears in the corners of my eyes.

Why did I have to feel this? Why couldn't it be as simple as I had intended it to be when I signed his contract?

I wiped at my leaking eyes, pretending to be wiping perspiration from my face, and I observed him for a moment. He looked nothing like the hardened business man that ruled Bowerstone Industrial with a tight, gilded fist. He was a completely different creature right here with me. He looked the faintest bit vulnerable as his eyes observed me in return, but his usual grin of confidence swept across his features. Perhaps I was simply looking at him through different eyes now. Perhaps I was simply looking past his many faults, but something in me needed him so desperately that it had almost been hard to breathe in the days I'd stayed away.

I love him.

"Why so quiet, dear?" he chuckled. "Have I rendered you speechless? It would not be the first-"

I silenced him with a kiss, cupping his angular jaw in both hands, drawing his face closer to me as I dropped back into the bed. He returned the kiss with a tender enthusiasm, and he groaned against my tongue.

As we kissed, our bodies worked into a frenzied carnal dance. His grip was decidedly more fierce on the side of my face. A groan of building ecstasy escaped him, and he pulled away from the kiss. His face was all tension and he looked lost in the feel of his building release.

"Oh, Keira." His voice was almost pleading as he surged and ebbed inside of me.

My body reacted violently to the sound of my name on his voice, and I, too, was approaching that familiar crest of passion. "Reaver," I sighed heatedly.

Our eyes were locked again as I spilled over my edge once more, and the clenching of my body around his pushed him across the line. He spilled himself into me in a moment of fiery release. He sucked in a long, shuddering lungful of air, and his body slowed, then stilled completely on top of me.

His head came to rest in the crook of my neck, and the hot flare of his shivering breath against my neck brought me more satisfaction than I could have imagined.

"Well," He exhaled. "So much for making it last." He laughed softly, pressing a few fleeting kisses against my neck.

Before I could answer, there was a soft knock at the door, and I heard Jasper say, "Your Majesty, are you ready for your supper to be served?"

Reaver raised an eyebrow, as if he, too, were anticipating my answer. He withdrew from between my legs, rolling onto his back, his eyes never straying from my face.

"Ah, Jasper," I said loudly. "I think that I will take supper in the dining hall..." I glanced over to my husband, who was now pulling his trousers back up onto his hips. "And have a place set for Reaver. He will be joining me."

"Delightful," Reaver said softly, his mouth curling into a smirk.

"At...At once, Your Majesty," Jasper said, sounding slightly confused.

In a quick, fluid motion, Reaver was off of the bed, and he offered me a hand. He pulled me from the mattress, and he pressed me against his chest. His lips touched to mine briefly, and he chuckled slightly as his eyes drifted down the front of my ruined dress. "I think, perhaps, you should change clothes before we dine. It would not bother me to be able to gaze upon your luscious breasts all through supper, but I am sure that you would prefer to be fully clothed...until we have replenished our energy, at least." His eyebrows shot up suggestively, and he moved toward the armoire.

I followed him, pulling my hair from its now utterly ravished style. "I am capable of dressing myself."

"Is that so? Then I daresay poor Anabelle might be out of a job," he snorted with mirth. He pulled out a white, flowing dress, and he ran his fingers over the soft gossamer fabric of its skirt. "This is the dress that you wore the first night you came to me." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"It is," I confirmed, my heart suddenly throbbing in my chest. The fact that he'd remembered precisely what I'd been wearing shocked me.

He held the dress out to me, and his mouth still fixed in a tender smile, melting my resistance completely.

Stepping forward, I took the garment from him, and I sighed. "Help me out of this."

"Gladly."

The servants tried to hide their shock—unsuccessfully—at mine and Reaver's choice to take supper in the dining room together. They had obviously taken notice of our separation and my reclusive behavior in the past week, but it also seemed to comfort them that I had made an appearance.

Reaver was only too happy to take his seat at to my right, even scooting his chair close enough to me that he could reach beneath the table and stroke my thigh from time to time. Perhaps it was to flaunt to everyone present that he had come back into my good graces, or maybe he was hoping to entice me into the bedroom once more.

We kept the conversation light, but Reaver's words, as always, had a double meaning to them. I had to clear my throat to keep from laughing when he noted out loud how much he enjoyed such tender breasts—the chicken's of course.

For a short while, I forgot the sadness that had I had been engrossed in for so long. I found myself returning his fleeting playful touches, and that pleased him to no end. He, more than once, leaned over toward me to place a soft, modest kiss upon my cheek, and that seemed to spark the interest of the servants more renowned for gossip.

After dinner had ended and we made our way back to my bedchamber, Reaver looped my arm in his, his face turning to offer me a smug grin. A small smile curved my lips, and it seemed to satisfy him.

Reaver opened the door to my chambers, and he allowed me to enter before he closed the door behind us. "Now, I am not sure about you, my dear, but I am absolutely ready for bed."

It was, indeed, late. Our dinner had been served on the tardy side, due to our tryst, and the moon was already bright in the sky outside my window. I turned to him, and I crossed my arms over my chest, "Then I suppose this is good night."

He tugged at the knot of his cravat, and he shrugged. "It does not have to be. I could stay."

"Stay?" I questioned, my eyebrows raising and a faint laugh leaving me. The offer was certainly surprising.

"Is it so preposterous?" He asked. "Is it not what most married couples do?" He stepped closer, now unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. "And I certainly cannot return to my chambers after discovering that the help has taken it upon themselves to thoroughly sully my bed."

I uncrossed my arms, and I swept a hand through my hair. For a moment, I wanted to question his motives for wanting to stay in my bed, but I let my critical curiosity slip away. I pulled the earrings from my ears, and I stepped toward the vanity to stash them in their place. I looked at his reflection in the mirror, and I saw that he was now removing his waistcoat and shirt all at once.

"It might also assure you that I am not cavorting with harlots at all hours of the night," he snickered, depositing his clothing across the back of the wing back chair next to the fireplace.

My gaze dropped from the mirror, and I struggled with the clasp to the golden locket that hung from my neck. My heart thudded with something akin to nervous excitement. I felt almost pathetic. Here I was: The Queen of Albion, and I was in love with a man that did not, or possibly could not, love me back. But I still loved him, and I still wanted to be close to him.

Reaver, now completely stripped of clothing, stepped behind me, swept my hair to the side, then easily unclasped the locket from my neck. As he leaned forward to set the necklace in the open jewelry box, he laid a kiss against my neck, and he encircled me in his arms. "You are very quiet, ma belle."

My gaze snapped up to meet his in the mirror, and I offered up a soft smile to his reflection. "It has been a long day," I said, as if it would explain my silence.

"It has," He agreed, twirling me slowly to face him. "Long, yet productive, I think."

My hand slid up the length of his torso, and I savored the feel of his taut, yet soft flesh. My eyes followed the path of my hand.

He unbuttoned my dress slowly as he led me toward the bed. His hands swept across my skin as he pulled the dress from my body, then my chemise, and he tossed them each skillfully across the same chair on which he'd stashed his own clothing. He pulled back the sheets, and he raised his eyebrows, as if instructing me to climb in before moving off to dim all of the lamps scattered about the room.

I slid between the covers, and I turned onto my side, facing the windows that spilled the soft moonlight into the room. I felt him slide into the bed behind me, and he pulled me into the crook of his body, draping and arm over my waist. His mouth swept across my bare shoulder, and it ignited a tortuous swirl of emotions within me. I closed my eyes, and I exhaled softly.

"Good night, Reaver," I said softly.

His arm tightened around me, and I heard him whisper, "Sleep well, my dear."

A/N: So, I hope you enjoyed this one, and leave me a review to let me know what you thought! There's more on the way, and I'm super excited to get it all out there!

As always, I'd like to thank my betareader Angelacm for bearing with me and resisting the urge to bonk Keira (and probably me) on the head repeatedly.