Summary: "On average, the mind of a person takes between ninety seconds and four minutes to determine whether it is struck by love or not." Outlaw Queen. AU. Three-Shot. Established Semi-Relationship.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Chapter One
Stage One. Lust

Her back slams against the wall and she grunts, grimaces at the sharp pain that shoots down her spine but intoxication has it's uses, and that grunt turns in to a moan as his lips descend upon her neck. They're clumsy, ridiculously so, and she feels like a teenager for the first time since she was one. He draws her leg up, grasps her thigh with a strength that will no doubt leave bruises and she hooks her knee around his hip. She whimpers as her head lolls back, thumps the wall he holds her against, and she can feel him smirking against her jaw. He steps closer, presses against her and she sighs as his knee moves between her thighs.

This isn't how she expected to spend her Friday night.

Not that she's complaining, but she'd prepared for Full House re-runs and left-over Fettuccini Carbonara from Wednesday's dinner, unfinished papers to grade that were due on Monday morning... She hadn't prepared for this.

Her eyes close of their own accord as he moves along her throat, drags his teeth and soothes the marks he makes with his tongue and damn it, didn't he know what that was doing to her? He has to, she thinks, because she'd started grinding her hips against his and his thumb has brushed her underwear more times than she can count. He has to be able to feel the damp lace between her legs, or at least suspect.

She's proven correct when his palm slides up her thigh, forces her skirt to bunch around her waist and his fingers tug her underwear aside. He cups her, swears at the heat between her legs and buries his nose in her neck. 'Regina', she hears him groan against her skin and her name in his voice has her bucking in to his hand.

She's always been Ms. Mills to him. Just like he's always been Mr. Locksley to her. Never just Regina and never just Robin. But gods, if hearing him call her by her given name isn't a turn on, she doesn't know what is.

This was inevitable though. The two of them half-naked, wet and hot and hard. She can feel him straining in his jeans, can tell he's uncomfortable by the knit in his brow. Her hands fall from his shoulders, slide down his chest and she scratches his skin through the buttons of his shirt. Regina's eyes open and she swallows, breathing heavily as she rocks her hips against his open palm and damn it, it's not enough. Blinking, she smiles softly at Robin as his head lifts and he bumps his nose against hers, tilts his head to the side and nips at her lower lip with his teeth. Willingly parting her lips, granting the permission he seeks, he kisses her harder as her hands reach his belt and she battles with the buckle.

They've been skirting around each other for months now. Heated glances shared across the staffroom table, casual touches that linger perhaps a little too long, innuendo after innuendo after innuendo. There was a sexual tension between them from the moment they were introduced and it was a true miracle they'd held out as long as they had.

Regina blames Tequila.

Inhibitions lost, they'd given in to the lust that controlled them for the better part of a year. And Regina could care less, especially once she tugs his belt undone, forces her hand beneath the waistband of his jeans and it's a tight fit, a very tight fit, but she uses her free hand to unsnap a button and slide the zip down, giving her room to wrap long fingers around the width of his erection and god, he's hot and hard and thick. Robin hisses at her touch, curls his fingers in the flimsy material of her underwear and tugs in retaliation and she bites her lip, holds back the moan that threatens to sigh from her lips.

She wants this to last. Knows that he does too because come tomorrow morning, they'll be Ms. Mills and Mr. Locksley again. It's okay now, because they're drunk as hell and really, it's Jefferson's fault. Drinks after work turned in to a pub crawl that she had, at the time, reluctantly agreed to and she can't remember a time when she'd drunk as much as she had tonight. So they're drunk, and not thinking straight, and this can never happen again because the school board has a strict 'No Fraternisation' policy - otherwise, they'd have fraternised a long time ago.

This has to last, because it can't happen again.

"Bedroom?"

Her head is full of desire, pleasure lingering close, but not close enough and it takes her a moment to hear him. He has to ask her again, stills his ministrations along the inside of her thigh and chuckles. It's a low, dark sound that resonates from deep within his chest and it causes a shiver to run down her spine. She nods mindlessly, unhooks her leg and side-steps, slipping from between his very distracting body and the wall he'd held her up against. Briefly, she marvels at how they'd managed to get from the bar a good half an hour away, to her apartment four floors up and she is suddenly very, very grateful for the weekend camp Henry's school organised two months ago.

Maybe it's fate.

Maybe it's just good timing.

She leads him back, kicking off her heels as she does and he smirks at her as she shrinks in height and it's clumsy and uncoordinated, she almost stumbled over and would have had he not surged forward, grasped her hips with his hands and walked her backwards. She flushes, curses herself for giggling - ( Regina Mills does not giggle! ) - and tugs at the lapels of his jacket. He has far to many layers on, in her opinion, and with her dress still bunched around her waist, she finds it entirely unfair that she's half naked whilst he's still fully clothed.

"Off." She gasped, rising on her toes to kiss the corner of his lips as she slides her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and under his jacket. He's slow to comply, far too enamoured with the taste of her lips and the feel of her hips but Regina is impatient, and stubborn, and she wants him as naked as she is, if not more than. Nails dig in to toned flesh, the only barrier between them a thin cotton shirt. He hisses at the painful pleasure she causes, grasps her waist tighter and tighter until they stumble in to Regina's bedroom. "Now," she tries again, finally slipping his jacket off his shoulders and she pulls away, moves to the bed and sits on the edge as he pulls his shirt over his head.

She's seen him shirtless before. An accident, at the time. One that left her writhing alone with her hand between her legs on many a sleepless night. But she's never seen him so close, so completely open to her exploration and she can't help reaching out, sliding her fingertips along his abdomen and up, tracing a long healed scar that runs from his collarbone to the middle of his chest.

His hand grasps her own and she looks up, blinks at the look in his eyes before she smiles, bites her lower lip and stands, turns her back to him and bows her head. Hair cascades in to her eyes, her hand lifts to brush strands aside as Robin steps forward. Regina held her breath, his body heat warming her skin while his arm wrapped around her waist.

It's a change of pace, completely different to the frantic grinding and groaning in the living room just two minutes ago but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love it.

Like it.

Not love it.

She's not allowed to love it.

Her head lolls to the side as his lips fall to her neck, hands moving to her back to slide the zipper of her dress down. A shiver moves across her spine, a hum falls from her lips as she tries not to smile at the scruff on his jaw and her lips part, a breath breezing past her lips as he nudges the straps on her dress down her shoulders, takes her wrists in his hands and pulls them apart, waits for her dress to slide down her body and pool around her feet before he brings them back together again.

Anticipation lies waiting low in her belly, want and need and desire causing her back to arch and the curve of her ass to press against the crotch of his jeans and his grip on her wrists tighten. Turning, Regina grinned at him in amusement as his breath hitched, shook her hands free of his grasp and stepped forward, forced him to turn and once the back of his knees hit the edge of her bed, she pressed the palms of her hands against his chest and pushed him back. Leaving little time for him to recover, her own knees hit the bed and she moved to straddle him, felt his hands move to the small of her back and up to the clasp of her bra.

"Damn it!" he cursed, and Regina breathed laughter against his neck, leaned back and reached behind her to help him unclip her bra - clearly, he hasn't had much practice in the art of undressing a woman... at least, not lately. But then, she hasn't had much practice in undressing a man either. She didn't have time for a relationship, let alone casual sex or one-night-stands. Regina's had to rely on her own hand and the vibrator under her bed for the past year. After all, getting off is incredibly hard to do with a ten year old down the hall and a stack of essays to be graded every night.

Her bra snaps free, and Robin quickly slides the straps down her shoulders, pulls it away from her body and drops it to the floor by his feet. Leaning back, trusting him to hold her steady and not let her fall, Regina bit her lower lip as she searched his gaze for something she really shouldn't be searching for. Most men found interest in her breasts, be them clothed or otherwise, but Robin stared at her face, tracing the contours of her jaw and the scar on her lip with his thumb, one arm wound around her waist to keep her steady.

Her breathing hitched as her lips parted, his thumb resting between them with his fingers splayed across the side of her neck. His touch alone had her thighs clenching, her chest heaving with pebbled nipples and as she exhaled, he leaned forward, pulled her as close as physically possible. Her breasts brushed his chest and she tensed at the pleasure that shot through her veins. She's on fire, totally and completely on fire and every touch, every breath against her skin, every nip of his teeth on her jaw, has her swallowing a cry of pure bliss.

She's rocking against him, his jeans and her underwear the only barrier between them and gods, the friction alone could make her come, is very close to doing so - but she wants more, wants him, wants to feel him inside her, filling her, fucking her. It's too much, but at the same time, not enough.

Robin leaned backwards, pulled her with him until he was lying on his back and she was lying on top of him, before he rolled, pinned her beneath him and rose, holding himself up with one arm either side of her head. Squirming, Regina's hips rose to brush against his own and he bucked, she groaned and her back arched. Brown eyes fluttered shut, lips remaining open in a silent gasp and he merely watched her, let her simmer in barely contained pleasure as he watched her writhe.

It's a sight he's pictured for weeks now, months even. And it's a sight he could get used too. She is... stunning. Robin's always thought so. He'd seen the light in her eyes that no one else noticed, the smile she hid behind - and it only drew him in further. It was dangerous waters he treaded, but he wouldn't mind if he sunk.

He stands then, sees her eyes open lazily to watch as he drags her underwear down her legs and she helps... as best she can. Her knees rise, clench together and slowly, he pulls black lace down her thighs, over her knees and they catch on her ankle before he manages to unhook them, and drop them to the floor. She's naked now, completely and totally bare and the sight alone has him groaning. Regina lies back as he shifts his jeans down his hips. They drop the floor, rest on top of Regina's dress and his boxers soon follow.

Robin crawls forward, presses his lips along her thighs, here navel, the valley between her breasts and her neck, until he's hovering above her. Her legs part, cradle his hips and he can't help but think about how perfectly they fit together. Their breath mingles and their noses bump against each other, her arms rise to rest around his neck and her fingers slide in to his hair, whilst one of his own moves to cup her jaw, the other tracing patterns on her waist.

They can still stop this. They can. Nothing has to happen, they can pretend that nothing happened, and they can pass everything so far off as a lapse in judgement. Except he knows that's wrong, he knows that things will change, probably already have, and... "Are you sure?"

His voice is low and deep, his breath brushing her cheek as he mumbles, as he waits for her call and it draws her lower lip between her teeth, before she smiles and nods, lifts her hips and knocks them against his own. He is so hot and so hard, and she is so, so wet - he groans, kisses the corner of her lips sweetly before moving to deepen it, and he rises, falls, buries himself within her and god, it feels - he feels...

Her breath hitches as he fills her, as he stills and waits for her to adjust, as he moans at the feeling of her wrapped around him so snuggly. Regina's stomach muscles clench, her legs rise to wrap around his hips and her heels did in to the small of his back. Her head falls back, her throat deliciously exposed to him and he takes advantage of that, trails soft kisses along the hollow of her throat, nips at her jaw and she moans, feels her brow knit together before she moves her hips, encourages him to move in tandem and god, it's perfect.

It's so perfect.

Why didn't they do this before?

They start slow, taking their time to familiarise themselves each others body and it's both heaven, and hell. Words catch in her throat, her lips parted in silent gasps as her moves, thrusts slow and hard, takes her to the brink before he stills, waits for her to come down and starts again. Her nails dig in to his shoulders, and her back arches continuously until she tugs on his short hair, kisses him hard and whispers 'faster' against his lips.

He obliges, picking up the pace until he has her quivering in his arms, shaking and crying out, swearing profusely and god, he's close, but she's closer and he wants her to find her release before he indulges in his own. Sweat glistens on both their brows, pleasure course through their veins until she stiffens, clenches around him tightly and throws her head back. She's still shaking in his arms when he falls, and he's still thrusting in and out slowly, lazily, and she's playing with his hair as they lie in a tangled mess of sweaty limbs.

They fall asleep together, her back to his chest and his arms around her waist, and for now, everything's perfect.

A/N: I don't usually write smut, mostly because I don't really know how to, in case that wasn't obvious from the slightly rushed ending? Either way. I know it's taking me a while to update LAWKI, but I did say that one would include sporadic updates. This one however, now that I've gotten through the most challenging part of the story, should be updated soon. I hope to have it finished by next week, as there's only three planned chapters. Let me know what you think.