Sorry for the delay, guys. The holidays have been very difficult for me this year so my goal of finishing this story up by Christmas was not met. I hope you're all still in the mood for Christmasy things and continue to follow me on what's left of this little journey.
FYI: This chapter is rated M
The energy during filming the next day is completely different. Everything is fresh and vibrant and wonderful, and Regina finds it hard to get into the sad mindset of her character while they shoot that scene by the ice rink, her own mind still reeling from the wonderful events of the night before.
He's a great kisser, and she knows it's wrong, that they shouldn't even be entertaining the idea of flirting with each other, let alone making out like teenagers at his hotel, but he's kind, and smart, and funny and attractive, and god, she wants to kiss him again. He's right there, by the edge of the rink, hunched over the railing and watching her, his eyes so seductive as they study her she's surprised the rink hasn't melted under the heat of his gaze.
He disappears somewhere around take seven, and when he shows up again (right before they start take nine), it's right by the film crew instead of outside the perimeter, carrying two to-go cups in hand.
Smiling, she walks over to greet him, takes his offered hot cocoa and exchanges flirty comments when no one's looking. They try not to be too obvious, stop themselves from giving into this pull between them and instead make plans for later. The inn should be nearly empty tonight, as the guests are heading out to do some caroling, they'll have time to, as Robin puts it, get to know each other better.
He's put up mistletoe on the ceiling of the Sherwood, right above the foot of the stairs, which seems to be their spot now, the place where they say those goodnights that carry all the underlying sexual tension.
It's not just that she wants him, though. He's... interested. Genuinely so, asks her about her day even while they stand there on set and sip their cocoa. She tells him a little bit about the movie, about filming, and tells him a general summary of the script, to which he reacts positively, nodding and smiling at all the proper moments.
"You really like it?" she asks, nervous now to know his real opinion.
"Sounds like the perfect holiday movie, if I'm honest," he tells her. "But don't tell anyone I said that. I've worked very hard to earn my Grinch reputation this year, I'd rather not see it all go to waste."
She grins at that, because he's right. The whole town has been throwing sideways glances at him at every turn, making comments about his lack of Christmas cheer whenever he sulks or rolls his eyes at all the concessions they've had to make over the movie. He's no longer upset by it, or at least he doesn't seem to be, not when he's here, with her, overlooking the set and taking in the amount of people working so hard to accomplish such a dire task.
"Your secret's safe with me," she promises. "I'll even tell them the hot cocoa was cold so they won't think you're fraternizing with the enemy."
"Oh, don't go that far, I beg you, Granny would have my hide if she thought I was weaponizing her goods."
He's so damn cute when he's flirting like that, Regina thinks, can't help the tingly sensation in her belly as she walks closer and whispers, "Alright, Mayor Locksley, I'll be on my best behavior."
She knows the effect she has on him, and is not even the least bit ashamed when he answers her with a little groan, his eyes closing as he warns, "Regina."
"Yes?" she asks innocently, unable to contain her laughter when he stares pointedly at her.
"You're no fun," she chides, pouting slightly.
"Save judgment on that until later tonight," he whispers then, with a wink and a devilish smile.
The crew are on break, and they're far enough away that she and Robin can chat somewhat freely, so she's feeling less inhibited than usual, feels at ease enough to tell him things like "Can't wait," as she moves just a little closer and stares at his lips. He licks them in response, looks down at hers and licks his again.
Right. Okay. Distance. Distance is necessary. Before she climbs him like a tree in front of her cast and crew.
Mal yells out that the break is over, tells them all to get ready for take nine. And Regina breathes a sigh of relief at the interruption (curses it at the same time, because it means she won't be here, with Robin, tempting him and watching him react).
"You ready to go, babe?" Walsh is suddenly there, kissing her cheek and grabbing her hand. "Let's do this!"
Robin is visibly tense now, huffing and turning away from them while Regina trains her eyes on Walsh.
"I'll be right there," she tells him through gritted teeth, and he looks askance at her reaction, rubs his thumb over her arm and asks if everything's okay, if Robin is bothering her.
"You are bothering me, Walsh," Regina says pointedly, "now please, can I finish my conversation before we get back to work?"
Chastised, he lifts both hands in surrender and says, "Alright, hun, see you out there."
His smile is big and unfaltering as he trots backwards to his spot on the set, his coat flapping in the wind as he finds his spot.
Regina then turns to Robin.
"See you tonight?" she says, and takes a last sip of her cocoa while he ponders his answer.
"We dated on and off for two years, broke up last summer when we realized the only reason we were still together was because our agents wanted us to be. It's why he wants the world to believe we're rekindling our relationship. Career boost and all that," she explains, grabs his hand with her free one when he looks like he's about to call it all off. "But that's not what I want, and he knows it."
"Does he?" Robin asks with a scowl, and it's ridiculous that he's acting this way, it's not like they've even discuss what this is between them.
But he looks adorable, all grouchy like this, so she smiles, and assures him that "Yes, he knows. We watch each other's movies and talk about his one night stands over drinks. That's it."
Robin sighs then, nods without a word, and squeezes her gloved fingers with his bare ones.
"I'll see you tonight?" she asks again, and he gives her a small smile, tells her I'm sorry. Yes, of course, and heads back the way he came.
He can't cook. Makes the confession when she compliments the ravioli they're eating for dinner, and tells her it's all Marco and Tony. Admits to having burned his fair share of pots and pans whenever he attempted to replicate any kind of recipe.
"Marian was the chef in our relationship. Top quality stuff," he says then, laughing as he admits, "She used to say I was likely to get my hand burned just by pouring cereal."
Regina chuckles at that, her mirth fading into a silent appraisal as she looks at him, grinning still.
"Thank you," she says later, as she takes her last bite, "I... I haven't had this in a while."
"Ravioli?" Robin asks, teasing, "No italian restaurants in LA?"
Regina huffs (though the smile hasn't left her), calls him a smartass as she takes a final sip of Merlot and sets the glass back down in front of her plate.
But he understands her meaning, he must, because he takes her hand then, moving it over the table and bringing it to his lips, the words I feel the same whispered against her skin.
"Have you thought about my proposal?" he asks her then, as if trying to find a topic of conversation that won't feed the live wire of sexual tension crackling between them.
"Proposal?" she frowns in confusion.
"About staying for Christmas," Robin reminds her.
"Oh, I... I don't know, Robin..." she starts, but he's immediately waving his hand, telling her not to worry, she can take her time.
"There is one thing, however," he adds, "that I would really like to ask you, should you decide to stay."
"Oh?"
"We have the annual Snow Ball at the Sherwood on the evening of the 25th. I was wondering... well, if you stay, that is... whether you'd like to attend with me."
Oh. Oh, wow. Okay. Well, then, that's... That's...
"Just a dance, Regina," he insists, "and we don't have to go if you don't want to. Or if you do want to go, it doesn't have to be a date or anything of the sort if you'd rather it not be. I just... I think you'd really enjoy it."
He's moved closer to her now, and it makes her nervous when she admits, "The problem is I... I don't know how to dance."
At that, he beams at her, taking a step back and giving her one of those ridiculous bows he so loves to tease her with before he offers his hand.
"What are you doing?" she asks, taken aback by the action.
"I'm teaching you to dance, milady," he says. And he is... ridiculous. And charming, and she wants to kiss that smirk so badly she can't help but take his hand, let him pull her close.
There's a scent of fresh pine in the air, and it occurs to Regina then that it's not the Sherwood Christmas tree, but Robin who smells like forest.
It somehow makes him that much more irresistible.
"The secret is to not look at your feet," he starts. "Keep your eyes on me, okay?"
She nods, and then they move.
He's graceful in his dancing, pulls her in and pushes gently, murmuring soft instructions that have her turning as he holds her hand up above them. There's no music, and she feels a little ridiculous moving without a real rhythm, tries to use it as an excuse to get out of dancing at all. But Robin is one step ahead of her, heads to the sound system in the corner and chooses a song, the familiar tune echoing along with the voice of Elvis in the empty living room.
I'll have a blue Christmas without you...
I'll be so blue just thinking... about you...
He guides her steps, holds her close and moves them both in a circle, his hands solid and warm on her lower back.
Decorations of red... on a green Christmas tree...
He's pushing her away from his body now, arms outstretched so that their hands remain joined, fingers laced together in order to pull her back in. Regina goes willingly, eagerly, even, smacks right into his chest and laughs nervously at his whispered Oof.
Won't be the same, dear, if you're not here with me...
He shifts their hands then, so that her palm rests flat on his, and moves them outward in a practiced wave before guiding her into a new step.
And when those blue snowflakes start fallin'
That's when those blue memories start callin'...
Robin twirls her again, holding only one of her hands this time and lifting it above her head so she can turn in a circle, and then he pulls her in, all dimples and deep blue eyes, and lands his lips on hers softly.
You'll be doing alright, with your Christmas of white...
He's tender, seductive, sucks at her upper lip and grins when they part, her teeth sinking into her own smile as she pulls away and attempts to regain the tempo of their steps. It's too late, though, she's lost it completely, as well as the semi-decent coordination she'd been moving with, but it's not embarrassing anymore, it's just... funny.
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas...
They're both laughing, trying to come back to the steps but too amused to actually manage it, and then he surprises her, lets go of her and starts thrusting and undulating his hips as he stands on his tiptoes in a very, very terrible imitation of Elvis while the music continues.
You'll be doing alright, with your Christmas of white...
One hand runs over the side of his hair while the other acts as a microphone, the thrusting continuing, but getting sillier each time, and Regina laughs as she watches him karaoke the last verse of the song.
But I'll have a blue, blue, blue, blue Christmas...
"Thank you, thank you very much," Robin says, making his voice gruff and over pronouncing his Rs.
"You have a terrible American accent," she tells him, and they both laugh before he walks over to her, his arms winding around her waist with an ease that really shouldn't please her as much as it does.
He's grinning down at her, his eyes closing as he runs the tip of his nose down the bridge of hers and whispers, "You're a great dancer."
She chuckles at that, whispers an incredulous, "Please."
"I mean it," Robin insists. "I like holding you while you move with me..." he does just that, coaxes her into swaying a bit from side to side, and he's so warm, and smells so good, Regina can't help the way her eyes flutter shut as she leans into him, his lips pressing a kiss to her brow while he holds their joined hands against his chest.
There's no music, but it's not about the dancing anymore, and when she pulls away and opens her eyes to look into his, she finds the same desire in them that courses through her in that very moment.
She leans in, plants her mouth on his and surrenders immediately to the tingling sensation of his kisses. He starts slow, with a press of his lips against hers that has heat coursing through her skin. He lingers on the second pass, lets the tip of his tongue caress her lower lip, asking for permission for more, and she gives it gladly, moans at the taste of him when her mouth opens to his lazy exploration, and it makes him grasp her tighter against him, chests pressed together as her arms loop around his neck.
His voice is husky when it says her name, Regina, like she's precious to him, like he cares, and it makes her realize she cares, too. Has come to care so much in such a short time. For him, for his family, for this town.
It's overwhelming.
"What's wrong?" he asks when she stops kissing him.
"Nothing," she tries, but he looks at her knowingly, waits until she somewhat tearily admits, "I just never thought I'd have this."
Robin smiles at her, leans in and kisses her again, with more intensity this time. His tongue flicks at hers, and then he sucks at her lower lip, rakes his teeth gently over it before he sucks again, and in an instant the embers of their shared affection have transformed into a full burning flame.
Her hands run up and down his back, wrap around his waist and use the leverage to push her body closer against his, until she can feel his hand dropping from her lower back to the curve of her ass, from reverent touch to almost desperate grasp, kneading and eliciting sounds Regina's not sure she's ever made before.
"Roland?" she asks breathlessly when they part, licking her suddenly dry lips.
"With Tink," he answers immediately, his breath just as ragged as hers. "She'll put him to bed when they return."
Regina looks up at him from under her lashes, licks her lips again as nerves start to bloom in her belly. It's now or never.
"Spend tonight with me," she asks, and at his confused frown she adds, "In my room."
His eyes go wide at that, but he doesn't let go. Instead, he gives her waist a little squeeze and asks, "Are... are you sure?"
She nods, smiling somewhat shyly at him and urging him "Come upstairs with me, Robin."
The walk to her room is short, but somehow it still takes them a good ten minutes to reach her door, and she'd guess it's because they kept pausing up the steps to make out under the mistletoe (under it, over it, beside it, they never stopped). She doesn't feel the least bit sorry for it, though, not when he's pinning her against the wall of her room, his lips lost on her neck, marking a trail of sucking kisses down until he reaches the neckline of the sleeveless dress she'd chosen for tonight.
Regina shivers when his fingers trail over her nape, searching for the little hook to undo it and then dragging the zipper down, until it's completely open and her back is now exposed in a V of red, stretchy fabric that ends just over her rear. She turns so he can remove it completely, and grins to herself when he lets out a soft Oh, fuck and trails his hand over the exposed skin.
But for all his lusty desperation, he takes his time, pushes the left side down her shoulder first, following the path of the fabric with soft kisses that warm her from the inside out, her very flesh aching for more of his attentions.
When the right side falls, and the dress ends up pooled around her waist, he groans her name, turning her around and closing his eyes as his head lolls back, a low Christ, Regina escaping him at the sight of her.
His hands are warm and firm as they explore her, pausing at her breasts to tease her nipples over the fabric of her bra with lazy rubs of his thumbs, and god, she wants him. Desperately.
"Kiss me," she orders, and his mouth is instantly moving back up her neck, until it reaches hers and she gasps into the kiss. He's going slow still, slow enough that she can feel the way his lips close around hers and suck, can feel the way his hands roam her back as they pull her away from the wall and against him.
Regina starts moving then, walking him backwards to her bed while his lips are still occupied on hers, his hand working behind her to unclasp the hooks of her bra.
"Wait," she whispers, and he stops instantly, pulling away from her and pausing everything as he asks if she's alright. She smiles, nods, and tells him, "I just want to do that myself."
He Ohs, and then his feet budge as she pushes him further back, until the backs of his knees are pressed against the bed and Regina pushes him down to sit on it. His hands land on her hips, rest there while she twists her arms to unhook the clasp at her back, sighing when the offending garment is finally off of her and on the floor, leaving her topless before him.
"Stunning," he says, leaning in to flick his tongue over her nipple. "In every way."
She sighs at the compliment, threads her hand through those caramel tresses of his while he treats her nipples to slow, sucking kisses that leave her ardently wanting more. He's at eye level with her breasts as she stands between his legs, and her eyes have fallen shut as she simply enjoys the feel and texture of his hair, the soft moans he gives her when she pulls at it slightly, the wet passes of his tongue over her skin.
His hands reach for her dress then, pulling it the rest of the way down, until it's a heap of red at her feet. Regina gingerly steps out of that and her heels, kicking the obstacles away before she reaches down for the hem of his shirt and removes it, exposing his toned muscles to her hungry gaze.
He's well defined, and solid, and gorgeous, and Regina devours the sight. She takes her time with him, though, same as he does with her, runs her fingers down the chiseled abs when he stands up from the bed for her perusal, one hand reaching up to play with the ends of her hair, rub a thumb over her cheek...
It's a moment of reverence, more than anything, a moment where they both understand what is about to happen, how much everything is about to change between them, and they welcome it.
Robin leans in then, shaking his head so that the tip of his nose rubs against hers once, twice, a third time before he sighs and kisses her. His lips are slow, tender, suck at her lower one with care, his tongue peeking out just enough to tease leisurely against hers, an unhurried dance that Regina doesn't think she'll ever get enough of.
He moans into the kiss, a deep, throaty sound that erupts when she gives him a little nip, to pull at his upper lip, and then his arms wind around her, and she doesn't really realize what he's doing until she's the one whose legs are touching the mattress, her body sinking down onto it slowly and scooting back to lay her head on the pillows while Robin remains at the foot of the bed, shirtless and glorious.
Regina's had her fair share of lovers. In and out of Hollywood. She's had intense nights of fancy drinks and incredible sex, of partners who have made her come and come, and feel sexy, and beautiful. But not one of them, not one, has ever looked at her with the amount of devotion Robin is right this second. It's... different, and deep, a connection she's never felt with anyone before, not even Daniel, and it stokes this new fire in her heart as she watches him walk closer, dropping his jeans, boxers and shoes along the way.
The bed sinks a little when he joins her, sitting at her side and running a hand over her thigh, tickling her skin pleasantly as he goes. Regina gasps, then trains her eyes on his face, licking her lips as she watches the way he reacts to her, the way his breath becomes more shallow, how his mouth drops open the tiniest bit as his hand caresses her stomach, up her ribcage and then her breasts, pausing over one.
"I... is this okay?" he asks, and how silly of him to ask such a thing, when he's already sucked and licked her nipples while she moaned her pleasure.
Still, she nods, appreciates the sentiment behind his question, and openly tells him, "Touch me, Robin."
He groans at that, licks his lips and moves that hand over her body with more confidence, kneading at one breast and then the other, his thumb rubbing over her nipples still sensitive from his earlier attentions. They harden again, seeking more of his touch, and Regina watches with rapt attention as Robin bends his head down to them and sucks one into his mouth.
The feeling is unparalleled, the slick sensation of his tongue on the stiff peaks making her rub her thighs together as she feels wetness building between them. His hand is now free to roam the rest of her, his mouth still busy on her breasts, alternating between one nipple and the other while he touches her body, acquaints himself with it.
Regina wants so badly to do the same to him, to feel and touch and lick and suck at every bit of him, but it all feels too good to stop. And when she's on the brink of purring under the soft stroking of his fingertips, he dips them between her legs, exploring her in the most intimate way.
His mouth releases her nipple then, kisses its way up her chest, her neck, finding her lips and staying there for a few slow seconds while he rubs two fingers in slow circles over her clit, making her grow wetter and wetter even as he veers away from her mouth and starts making his way down.
Somehow he manages to retain this air of reverence, of unhurried appreciation about him as he shifts to lie between her legs, opening them to his tongue and giving her one long, flat lick along her sex. She hisses in response, shivers pleasantly at the action and inadvertently gives a short little thrust of her hips in search for more, which lucky for her, he seems all too happy to give.
...:::...
He runs the tip of his tongue over her outer lips, teasing her, discovering her, taking in the way she reacts to every action and repeating those she finds particularly pleasurable. Like when he sucks gently at her clit and she gasps, then moans when he does it again, and again, his tongue licking up from her entrance to the sensitive bud in long, steady strokes that have her breathing faster and faster despite their sluggish pace.
"So good," she whispers above him, and Robin hums his answer against her clit, closes his lips around it and sucks once more, harder this time, delighting in the way her hips buck in response, how she lets out a breathy Oh! when his tongue ventures inside her.
Her hands have found his hair again, and he's grown quite fond of that, of the way she pulls at it when he sucks at her, nails scratching lightly at his scalp as she becomes overwhelmed with the passion.
"Robin," she breathes, when he moans at the taste of her on his tongue. He licks and licks. Again and again until she's writhing, her hands fisting into the sheets. Another kiss on her clit, one more long, hard suck the way she likes, and then he's pushing two fingers inside the wet heat of her, releasing her name on a gruff exhale when he's coated in her.
Robin licks at her clit again, flicking his tongue over the little nub while his fingers twist as he pushes in and out, in and out, deep and tight and incredible as he fills her, a third finger joining the other two when she whimpers "More."
He's taking his time, making sure he can touch and see and enjoy her, but she's climbing higher and higher on every thrust of his fingers, rolling her hips with more purpose as she seeks out the friction, moaning louder and louder as he finds the perfect spot inside her, hitting it one, two and three times in consecutive strokes.
She's a vision, those thick waves of dark brown spread over the pillow and getting messier as she thrashes her head with his every pass. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she Mmms for him, begs for "Faster," and "Harder," and "Oh, that feels... mmmhh— need you inside me."
"God, I need you, too, Regina," he confesses, kissing a line up her thigh and back down over her sex, replacing his fingers with his tongue and reveling in her reaction. He can feel her legs trembling on either side of him, getting closer and closer to the edge, her hands pulling his hair just a little tighter when he licks back up to her clit, sucks at it yet again as his fingers enter her and hook upwards, looking for that spot again. Robin keeps a languid pace, prolongs the anticipation with more teasing sucks, delighting in her soft whimpers, in the way her body arches and her hips circle over his hand, following his rhythm.
"I've... it's never felt so... oh, god, yes!" she whisper-shouts, gasping repeatedly when he finds that perfect angle again, and he has to prompt her So what? Tell me before she finishes with "Intense," and there's something in the way she says it, a hitch in her breath as her head lolls back on the word, that has his cock twitching, begging to bury itself inside her and see just how intense this all really is.
His hand starts moving faster, pressing into that spot a little harder, the wet sounds erupting from the action only spurring him on as he bends his head back down to her clit and licks and sucks the taste of her, his other hand pressing flat down on her navel. She bucks her hips, and moans, and gasps that she's close, so close, followed by nearly incomprehensible Mmmnns and Guhs and Aahhs that have him growing harder, needier.
The next time he hits her G-spot with his fingers, he sucks hard at her clit at the same time, presses that hand on her stomach down a little more, and watches as she all but mewls, her hand pulling so much at his hair it starts to sting. He doesn't care, she can leave him bald if she so wishes, so long as he can watch this again and again.
When she comes, it's with a squeaky whisper of his name, and a stream of Ohs and Yeses as she rides out the wave of pleasure, his fingers pulsing inside her as he continues to lap at her, his own moans joining hers blissful little gasps.
When she's caught her breath, he crawls up over her, kissing a line from her belly button to her chest, pausing by her breasts to give each nipple another long, hard suck the way she likes, and then continuing on his way, sucking yet more kisses along her neck. Her hands are on him then, roaming his back, moving down to his arse and giving him a squeeze, which has him chuckling into her skin.
"Admiring the bum, Your Majesty?" he teases, and she laughs with him, but squeezes again, adds a slow thrust of her hips that has her slick sex rubbing just over the tip of his cock, and Robin hisses at the unexpected pleasure.
She's smiling smugly when his eyes find her face again, and he'd taunt her with some grouchy comment if she didn't look so utterly beautiful like this, her skin flushed and a little sweaty, lipstick kissed completely off and her hair a mess of lovely waves around her face.
When she lifts her head to kiss him, Robin goes willingly. His arms are bent on either side of her head, elbows digging into the mattress to hold his weight above her as he sucks on her lower lip. She moans when her tongue tangles with his, turned on, he realizes, by tasting herself on his tongue. It makes him deepen the kiss even more, makes him rasp a low Want you that has her humming her approval.
Her hand moves down between them, palming his cock and wrapping her fingers around. It's an awkward angle, but does the trick anyway, hard as he is for her. Robin lets out an "Oh, yes," when she pumps him slowly, the pressure just right, just enough to have him reeling.
The pad of her thumb presses over his tip, and he groans, sinks lower into her and kisses her again, sucking at her lower lip before he lets go on a gasp as she gives him yet another lazy pump. Her teeth nip at his chin, hips circling slowly against his cock and her hand, and he lets out a loud "Fuck!" into the heated air of the room. He wants her. Badly.
But there's one thing missing, and he curses under his breath, pauses his actions and gasps "Condoms... I... I didn't... god, you feel so good," into her ear, his speech choppy due to her hand pumping faster.
"Nightstand," she indicates, and he sticks out his hand blindly towards it, knocking a notepad and pen to the floor and almost doing the same to the glass of water that sits there before he finally closes his fingers around a couple of square foil packages.
He takes one, brings it to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth, and watches intently as he pulls back and sits on his knees to put the condom on.
Once he's fully sheathed in the latex, he moves back over her, his hand finding her entrance and feeling the wetness there. She's ready, tells him so with a little whimper and a Please that makes him even harder. He grabs his cock, pumps it a couple of times, then runs the tip of it along her entrance and over her clit, teasing her, watching as she hums and rasps God, yes when he finally pushes into the wet, tight warmth of her.
She feels unbelievable, surrounds him and squeezes at him from every angle, her legs opening further as he moves to settle above her once again, until his pelvis is flush against hers and he's buried to the hilt inside her with a low Fuuuuck.
"You feel... ohh—mmmhh," he babbles, pulling back and thrusting back in slowly, feeling her wrap deliciously around every inch of his cock.
"You too," she echoes, her body arching, lifting off the bed and against his, her hips rocking languidly, taking him in deeper before he pulls back out. Her hands are running down his back, ghosting over his arse and back up, then back down to knead at him again and grasp firmly, pressing him in against her as she moves.
Every roll of her hips is accentuated by a gasp, or an Oh, or a whisper of Robin, and he's so hard just from listening to her, just from watching her, that now that he's inside her he doesn't think he'll last very long.
Maintaining that tender, unhurried pace, he thrusts back in. Out, and in, and out again. "Ahh," and "God..." and "Fucking perfect."
"Mmh," she answers, and this time thrusts a little harder against him, let's out an "Oh, yes, right there," when the action has him pressing into that spot she likes so much. Robin moves again, again, hits that spot over and over, harder on every thrust as he fills her, and he's rock solid inside her, feeling her walls tremble as she takes him in deep.
"So close. Ahh, so close," she tells him.
"I can feel it. Mmm, so good." His hand moves down between them to stroke her clit in fast little circles as he speaks, then bends his head to kiss her, swallowing her moans as she climbs up, up, up...
"Let go for me, Regina, let me see you," he tells her, moves his mouth back down to her breasts, sucking almost greedily at her nipple. That hand on her clit moves a little quicker, pressing a little harder, until she's crying out her pleasure and coming on his cock.
He revels in it, relishes the almost desperate way in which she kisses him and then orders, "Faster."
He obeys without protest, picking up the pace to help her ride out her orgasm, surrendering to the feel of her, the delicious, wet heat that wraps around him as he enters her again and again, until he, too, is overwhelmed with pleasure, coming with a strangled gasp as he crashes his lips to hers, his tongue seeking out hers, tasting her as bouts of tingling, unbelievable sensation course through him.
His whole body relaxes, a few erratic bucks of his hips escaping him in blissful little aftershocks that make Regina gasp and smile below him. Robin doesn't move just yet, remains right where he is, his cock softening inside her as he leans in and rubs the tip of his nose against hers, then gives her a soft peck, the back of his hand running over her cheek.
They're both a little sweaty, their bodies warm from indoor heating and their activities, but she's smiling, looking up at him with such affection he feels like his heart will burst inside his chest at the sight.
Her hand moves up to his face, caressing down his cheek and rubbing her thumb over the scruff along his jaw. Robin turns his head for a moment, kissing her palm before he looks at her again, mirroring her smile.
She looks like she's about to say something, but shakes her head and laughs instead.
"What?" he asks, curious.
"Nothing, I just... I never expected to end up in bed with the mayor," she teases.
"Hmm, I never expected to end up in bed with Hollywood's most beautiful starlet," he fires back.
"Smooth," she quips, and after a moment of barely contained amusement, she exhales a laugh, warmth spreading through him at the sound.
Robin kisses the tip of her nose then, and taunts her, "However, I do believe you planned this."
"Did I?"
"You were prepared," he says, shrugging one shoulder, and almost to make his point, he decides to move then, grabbing the condom as he pulls out of her, removing it and dumping it in the little trash bin next to the bed.
When he turns back to her, she looks guilty, smiling sheepishly as she makes her confession.
"Yeah, about that. I, uh... I may have stolen those from Walsh," she admits, and it should irk him, probably, that he's used one of Wonderboy's rubbers, but instead, the revelation brings a new wave of amusement, has him burying his head into her neck as he laughs breathlessly.
She joins him, acknowledges, "He always has some in case he needs them! I figured it was safer than going to the drugstore and getting caught by paparazzi or, god forbid, Leroy, your town gossip. So after we wrapped for today, I snuck into Walsh's trailer while he was greeting fans and... pilfered a few."
He can picture it, can see her trying to stealthily glide from wall to wall like she's in some kind of spy movie, dressed in all black and attempting to get through undetected. It's an inaccurate and highly ridiculous image that only elevates his amusement, but he doesn't lose sight of what she's just confessed to, accuses, "So you did plan for this," amid dying chuckles, bending his elbow against the mattress and resting his head on his hand.
"I... thought it was a possibility," she corrects, her cheeks taking on a pink hue at the admission.
"You wanted to seduce me," he teases, and Regina gives him an embarrassed Shut up that makes him laugh again.
He kisses her and tells her she's welcome to seduce him anytime, and she grins at that, giving him a quick peck in response. Robin then shifts to lie on his back, his arm pillowing her head. His lips whisper kisses into her hair, her body pressing close to him as she lies on her side, drawing random patterns over his chest.
He feels his eyelids grow heavy, feels that cozy, post-coital relaxation stretch through his limbs, but he's not exactly sure where they stand, what she wants, so he swallows back the nerves and asks, "Would you like me to leave?"
Her head perks up at that, and she stares at him like he's grown a second head.
"Of course not," she tells him, sounding just a little dejected when she adds, "Unless... unless you want to leave?"
"God, no," he rushes to reassure her. "No, I... I want to stay here with you, I just wasn't sure if..."
"If?" she prompts.
"I thought maybe you might want to be by yourself. I didn't want you to think you had to let me stay just because we..." he gestures down at their naked state, and she looks concerned still, so he elaborates by adding, "We've never actually discussed what this is between us, I didn't want you to feel obligated to—"
"I don't know what this is," she interrupts. "But I know I don't want you to leave."
And that, Robin decides, is more than enough for now. So instead of pushing the subject, he smiles, leans in when she reaches for him, her lips soft on his, her hand cradling his cheek.
"Stay," she insists when she pauses to draw breath, and he dives back in for another kiss and whispers his answer.
"Your wish is my command, Your Majesty."
