She swallowed. "End your suffering, sire...In my eyes, it is already yours." It was true, in every way that mattered, she was already his. All the waiting he wanted, she didn't understand it.
The sentence pushed him off the edge inch by fucking inch, and they both knew it. Henry lowered himself to his knees.
The King of England knelt between her open thighs, his hands resting against her skin, his face lifted towards hers. "Is this where you want me?" he asked. "Is this how you want me?"
"Only when it gives us both pleasure."
Henry smiled and slipped his fingers beneath the edges of her linen drawers and looked up at her once more.
He pulled.
The fabric shifted aside, baring her to him. Livia's fingers tightened against the chair. Henry's gaze locked inside her. He looked at her as if the world had narrowed to this one place, this one offering.
"Your legs stay there," Henry said. "No matter what."
Livia nodded quickly. "Yes."
