His Secret Slave to Scandalous Queen

Chapter 151: I Love Just You

Every version. Every layer. Everything she’d shown him and everything she hadn’t. His body shook with the force of it — emotion and pleasure arriving simultaneously, indistinguishable from each other — as he buried himself inside her, his cock swelling.

"I love just you, Richard."

He came apart completely. The grunt that left him was body-shaking. His whole body shuddered through it, hips driving forward one last time as he buried himself and stayed there, trembling, his face pressed into the curve of her neck.

Livia held him through his climax. Her fingers moved down his back, tracing the line of his spine, feeling the tension leave him in increments. She pressed her lips to his temple. His jaw. The corner of his forehead.

Eventually he rolled off her, landed on his back beside her with a long, satisfied exhale. He turned his head, pressed his lips to her shoulder.

"Mind if I stay here for a bit."

Livia smiled at the ceiling. "Of course, your grace." She settled into the pillow, her shoulder warm where his lips had just been. "I’ve gotten quite used to being beside you too."

He made a sound of contentment. Within minutes, his breathing had evened out. She followed him not long after.

*****

The knock came at an hour that felt aggressive.

"Diana?!" Geoffrey’s voice penetrated the door.

Richard and Livia jolted upright simultaneously. A mutual, wide-eyed horror passed between them.

"Fuck—" Richard was already rolling sideways and then there was a thump, followed by a muffled sound that suggested the floor had introduced itself to him without warning.

Livia pressed her lips together very hard. She got to her feet, smoothed her nightdress down, grabbed her robe from the chair. "Hide!" she whispered, gesturing frantically at the floor where Richard was gathering both himself and his dignity. She glanced at the door then back at the floor.

"Now, your grace."

"Where?!" Richard whispered back, looking around the room in pure terror.

Livia pointed sharply. "Behind the door. Hurry."

"Behind the door?" he mouthed, offended by the lack of sophistication.

"Yes!"

"I am a duke."

"You will be a finished duke if your father catches you in my bedchamber."

That moved him. Richard darted behind the door just as another knock came.

"Diana?!"

Livia closed her eyes for one desperate second. If the floor could open and swallow her, she would not complain. She might even thank it. "Coming, my lord," she called, trying to sound sleepy and innocent. She pulled her robe around herself, tied it quickly, then smoothed a hand over her hair. It did absolutely nothing.

Richard, meanwhile, pressed himself flat behind the door, holding his breath.

Livia opened the door only slightly and dipped into a curtsy. "Good morning, my lord."

Lord Langford stood in the corridor already dressed. No man should look so severe before breakfast. His gaze moved over her face, her robe, the small crack of the door, and then the room behind her. "Where is Richard?" Geoffrey asked.

Livia’s heart dropped straight through her slippers. "Ugh..." She blinked.

Brilliant start.

"I haven’t..." She cleared her throat. "I haven’t seen him, sir."

Behind the door, Richard shut his eyes. Geoffrey’s brow rose.

"I see," he said.

The silence that followed was cruel. Livia tried to hold her face steady. Geoffrey looked past her once more.

"So why is his sleep shirt on your bed?"

Slowly, she turned. And lo and behold, there it was. Richard’s shirt lay sprawled across her mattress.

Livia stared at it. Behind the door, Richard made the smallest sound of despair. She turned back to Geoffrey with no defence whatsoever. "My lord, I can explain—"

"Can you?"

"No," she admitted at once, then winced. "I mean... yes. Possibly."

"May I come in?" Geoffrey asked. "I need to talk to you both."

"Of course." Livia stepped back at once.

Geoffrey entered. She shut the door quietly behind him, though quiet hardly mattered now. The scandal was already in the room, dishevelled, and wearing Richard’s face.

Richard emerged sheepishly from behind the door. "Father..."

Geoffrey turned to him. "Have you gone mad?"

Richard opened his mouth. It was clearly a rhetorical question. Livia saw the danger half a second before it happened.

She stepped on his foot. Richard’s mouth snapped shut, and instead of whatever foolishness he had been about to say, a strangled grunt came out.

Geoffrey’s gaze slid down. Livia quickly folded her hands before her robe and tried to look innocent. "What do you think you are doing?" Geoffrey demanded.

No one answered. Because truly, what answer could there be?

Geoffrey continued. "Do you plan on ruining the reputation you tried so hard to build?"

"I am to marry her, Father."

Geoffrey’s mouth tightened. "Of course, forgive me. I must be plain stupid. And what if she becomes with child?"

Livia’s eyes widened.

Oh Lord.

The thought struck with such force that the air seemed to leave her lungs. She had not thought of that.

She had not thought of it at all. All this time, she had not allowed her mind to go there. The possibility opened beneath her like a trapdoor.

"There should be no issue, would there?" Richard asked, one brow lifting.

Geoffrey turned his head slowly. "Really?...You seem to think yourself the king of England. I wonder," Geoffrey continued, "what church you imagine will wed you."

Richard frowned.

Geoffrey’s brows rose. "Did you not also hear? There are to be no marriages solemnised until after the royal wedding."

Richard’s jaw tightened. Geoffrey watched the reaction and mistook it for frustration alone. He did not know the true shape of it. He did not know the royal decree had claws.

"And if she comes to be with child before then, Richard," Geoffrey said, voice lowering, "tell me, what will you do?" He went on. "Do you have any idea the shame you would bring upon this young woman who is trying to get her life back?"

Richard’s face tightened. "I would marry her."

"How?" Geoffrey snapped. "With what priest? Under whose blessing? In what lawful ceremony? Or do you intend to stand in a field with the witch of Kingsmere, hold her hand, and declare yourself husband because your feelings are very grand?"

(Brought to you by Janelle Fox 1/2)