Another prequel one-shot from the MP verse.
Have a little glimpse into Robin and Regina's first Christmas/New Year's as a couple, the origin of the white bikini from chapters 5/6 that Robin loves so much, and how a certain term of endearment came to be.
Also know that now that all my holiday writing is done, I should be going back to regularly updating MP, so I expect to have a new chapter for that story posted very soon (and the full story finished by my birthday!)
It's still a little foreign to her, spending Christmas without Daniel.
The first one, it had all been fresh still, only a few months having passed after his loss, when all the splendor of the holidays adorned the governor's mansion, and she had cried herself to sleep on Christmas Eve while wrapped in his worn navy sweatshirt, alone in her bedroom, her heart heavy with the mourning of his passing. The new year had been no different, she'd taken to her room again, secluded from everyone, and drowned herself in whiskey and memories of happier times that would never return.
Last year, things had shifted a bit. Roland had started talking some months before, a few babbled expressions here and there, some broken sounds that made up the words Dada and Gina (a nickname she hated, but accepted, because he'd look so proud whenever he'd call her by name, and who could ever resist those curls and dimpled cheeks?). Pain weighed on her still, but this time she hadn't curled up in bed and let her grief cripple her.
Instead, she'd spent her night reading stories to her favorite person in the world, telling him tales of Santa and his reindeer, of Mr. Scrooge and his ghosts, of the ill-fated Grinch and his spoiled plans to rob the world of Christmas, and for a while there, she'd been content, the feeling having deepened bright and early on Christmas morning, when Roland had finally said her name correctly, given her a big, wet kiss on the cheek, and eagerly presented her with a tray of gingerbread cookies he'd messily decorated himself, his father trailing not far behind with a potted poinsettia in hand -his own festive offering for her-, a friendly smile on his face. She'd returned that smile, a small, fleeting thing, but returned it nonetheless, glad to be spending the holidays with a friend.
This year, everything is upside down, but in a good way. Her grief is dormant, still present but dulled by light and happiness. She's in a relationship, whether she admits it or not, and it's brought her enormous joy. No longer confined to the solitude of the mansion, Christmas had found Regina cozy in Robin's living room, her head upon his shoulder as they took a much-deserved respite on his couch, staring silently at the twinkle lights of the tree she and Roland had spent the better part of the day decorating (she'd also spent the better part of the day sneaking kisses with the boy's father under mistletoe sprigs he'd strategically placed around the house, but Roland needn't know that). So yes, it's strange to spend the holidays without her husband, but now, now there are other things to make her smile, other people she calls home. It's different, of course, but her holidays are once again sweet and full of laughter, presents, carols, food and... love.
He hasn't said it again, perhaps in an attempt to not make her feel guilty, but she sees it in his eyes, feels it in the way he holds her, in how proudly he talks about her and her run for the presidency when he thinks she's not listening. He loves her, loves her, deeply and with his entire heart, his smile lighting up when she looks his way, and god how she wishes she could reciprocate his declaration, voice the words he now keeps quiet so as not to pressure her. But she can't, not yet, because she's already lost Daniel, and it nearly killed her. If something were to happen to Robin... she wouldn't survive it, and so she refuses to give power to the emotions swirling inside her, settles for quietly showing her affections instead of expressing them out loud.
She's told him all this already, has apologized for not being able to return the sentiment and explained why she won't allow herself to surrender to those feelings just yet, and Robin has been nothing but understanding, telling her he doesn't need those three words from her unless she's ready, that he'll respect her need for however much time it takes her to overcome her fears, and as romantic as it is that he's willing to wait for her, it hurts, rips her apart that she can't give him what she knows he desperately craves, despite having said the contrary.
But now is not the time for such dire topics. Instead, Regina basks in that love he so freely shows her in every touch, every word, and starts preparations for the New Year. She plans games and surprises for the early hours of the night that will be spent with Roland, then arranges for more naughty celebrations for later, once the boy is tucked in and asleep in his bed, and only the two adults are left to wait til midnight.
They'll be at Robin's house for the night (she's perfected the art of escaping the mansion and sneaking into his home at this point), away from the prying eyes of her staff, and Regina has a mind to welcome the new year with champagne and a nice bubble bath in his tub. She's picked up a new bikini for the occasion, a white one with a bit of a 70s flair to its design. The top is strapless and ties at her back, in a bow easy enough for Robin to pry open once their desires take over the evening, and the bottom is held together on either side by two metallic rings that sit snug on her hips, framing a patch of skin in a way that entices and teases whoever's looking.
The garment drives Robin crazy when she loses her robe later that night and reveals it, and she smiles in smug satisfaction as she climbs into the foamy mass that covers his tub, settles between his legs and rests her back on his torso, her head against his shoulder when she moves just a little to the side and lands a kiss on his jaw. They're normally naked when they take these baths together, but she wanted to surprise him, wear something sexy and new that would make him moan at the sight, and the skimpy swimsuit has done just that, she can feel him hardening against the small of her back.
"I never thought I'd be so aroused from seeing you with clothes on," he jokes against her neck, licking the spot sensually, trailing his teeth softly along her skin.
"Mmm," is all she says, and makes a grab for the champagne flutes that rest on the corner edge of the tub, handing one to him and swirling the liquid in hers slowly, taking a sip and closing her eyes as she rests against him.
The clink of glass against ceramic echoes in the space after a few minutes of complete silence, and then Regina feels Robin's hand prying her champagne glass out of her grasp, her eyes opening to catch him setting it just beside his on the tub's edge. His body shifts, sinking lower into the hot water and bubbles and then he sighs, his warm breath against her neck as he moves her hair to one side and rests his chin in the exposed skin of her shoulder.
"What are you up to?" she asks with a mischievous grin, her eyes closed, head still resting against him.
"That, Governor Mills, is for me to know, and you… to enjoy," he says cryptically, and then proceeds to run his hands along her body, his touch making her shiver.
"Are you cold?" he asks, moving to sink them further under the water, but she shakes her head vehemently, presses harder against him.
"No, not cold," she assures as her body starts to emulate the wavy movement of the water, her hips rolling leisurely against his, slowly stoking the ember of their arousal.
"I must say," he rasps against her after long seconds of exploration, his hands still searching, wandering along her skin, fingers dipping under the top of her bikini and toying with a nipple, "I quite like this bathing suit."
Regina giggles in response, satisfied once again in her choice of attire, her body still undulating as it follows the current created in the water by Robin's movements. His hand finds her back, wedges between it and his chest, and deftly tugs at the bow, the fabric peeling off her body and exposing her breasts to his heated touch.
Warm hands knead and fondle the swells, thumbs brushing against the hardened peaks as his mouth seeks out hers, a sideways kiss that is sloppy and divine, the taste of him intoxicating in the best of ways. Her own hand finds his cock below the water, hard for her already, and pumps slowly, firmly, her mouth falling open against his when he moves away from their kiss to gasp out her name, and god, she loves this effect he has on her, how everything he does, everything he makes her feel when they're like this, is always intense and hot and ripe with raw desire.
"I want you," she whimpers, loudly, the need to stay quiet forgotten until he utters a gentle warning, to remind her of the little boy sleeping in the room down the hall.
"Robin," she whispers her plea, toning down the near scream she'd been about to unleash.
"I want to watch you first, feel you, see you as I make you come," he tells her, murmuring the words against her cheek before adding a soft bite to her jaw, "please?"
Her teeth sink into her lower lip, her eyes closing as she nods eagerly, exhales when he rolls her left nipple between thumb and forefinger, and then he's going down, further and further as his mouth sucks at the crook of her shoulder, kisses a line up her throat, his other hand still playing with her breasts, switching from one to the other in their lazy ministrations.
"That feels amazing," she gasps when the hand that ventured south rubs at her clit over her bikini bottoms, her head turning to the side to kiss him again, frantic this time, tongues tangled and leaving wet trails on pliant lips as bubbles splash out of the tub and onto the floor tiles. Regina picks up the pace of the hand still moving up and down his cock, his tip bumping into her ass when she grinds her hips down a little harder, loving the way Robin groans against her. But then he's seeking out her hand, withdrawing his from her bikini and wrapping two fingers around her wrist, moving it away from him. She sits up, turns to face him, confused.
"If you keep that up, I won't be able to last long enough to be inside you," he explains, a little sheepish in his admission, and she smiles smugly, knowing it's the bikini that's done it.
"Fair enough," she replies, smirk still in place, and then her hands are stroking up and down his arms as she situates herself against him once more.
His mouth is lost in her neck, both arms clasped tightly around her, keeping her back flush against his chest as he kisses and kisses, showers her skin with lovely little licks and gentle bites that have her fighting the urge to cry out in pleasure, and then his hand is moving down again, dipping into the waistband of the bikini this time, fingers instantly finding her and teasing, rubbing, and Regina can feel him smile against her shoulder when she bucks her hips involuntarily against his touch, silently begging for more.
He grants it to her, thank god, doesn't taunt her with the possibility of a firmer stroke or a deeper thrust, but rather ventures two fingers inside her, slowly moving in and out, feeling her, exploring her every crevice before pushing back into her languidly, muttering words of adoration in her ear, telling her how good she feels, how warm and wet and tight, how he can't wait to be inside her.
It's her favorite thing about sex with Robin, the way he speaks to her, how he's so driven to tell her what he wants to do to her, the heights he wants to bring her to, how he loves the feel of her body, the taste of her on his tongue, how her screams when he makes her come are some of his favorite sounds... It all makes her feel cherished, sexy, beautiful.
His hand is picking up speed with every plunge of his digits into the wet heat of her, aided by the roll of her own hips against his hand, until bubbly water is spilling everywhere and that hand is rapping fast and hard against her, the angle awkward but good, pleasure blooming out of his every action.
"I'm so close, god, so close. Don't stop," she orders as she turns her head to the side, her voice a broken whisper that he answers with a fierce kiss to her lips, noisy and wet and perfect.
"I can feel it," he tells her, "you're so beautiful. Let go, Regina," he adds after a teasing bite to her earlobe, "let me watch you."
She comes with a muted scream, her hips bucking under the bubbles, his fingers still buried inside her as she rides wave after wave of immeasurable pleasure, her limbs tingling with the intensity of it, her breath catching as she regains her bearings.
"God, I love you so much," he rasps against her shoulder, his hand still moving slowly inside her to prolong the feeling, but his rhythm falters when she stills abruptly at his words.
"Sorry, I-" he starts, removing his hand from her in the process, but she turns to him, shakes her head to cut off his hurried apology, because she will not have him feeling guilty about this.
"Don't be. I like it when you say it," she admits, looking into his eyes.
"Yeah?" he asks, his tone hopeful, a hesitant smile behind his question.
"Yeah," she reassures, and that timid smile widens, his eyes soften, and his hands are grabbing both of hers to help her as they both stand, bringing her close and landing a kiss on her lips, arms wrapping around her, uncaring about the bubbles clinging to them.
When his cock finally finds its home inside her, they're on his bed, bodies still damp from their time in the tub as they hold on to each other. Outside, the new year is just arriving, the fireworks in the distance casting echoes of light that filter through the window, reflecting muted tones of blue and red and purple on his skin as he moves above her, and Regina cannot recall a more beautiful sight.
His thrusts are slow at first, gather speed the closer he gets to his peak, and she didn't think she'd come again, had been content to cater to his pleasure without thought of a second dose of her own, but then he's changing the angle just slightly, and his hand is on her clit, his voice gruff as he moans her name and carries them both closer and closer to the edge. She responds with a gasp of her own, rolls her hips upwards to meet his, and then Robin is bending down, leaning over her and taking her nipple into his mouth, sucking firmly, laving his tongue over it, his teeth pulling on it just enough to make her entire body writhe under him.
He comes inside her right after her second orgasm seizes her, and their voices join in utterance of unintelligible expressions, Robin stilling above her after he pumps himself into her over and over, until they're both spent and sated in absolute bliss, his body collapsing next to hers, their shallow breaths mingling when they turn to face one another, her lips landing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose before they settle more comfortably on the bed, his cheek pillowed on top of her breast, his hair tickling her chin.
"Happy New Year, Robin," she chimes, her tone a mere whisper, carrying with it the smile that forms on her lips as she says the words. His answer comes in a sleepy mumble, tacking on a new term of endearment that Regina can't help but beam at, because it's a way to address her that conveys what she truly means to him, two simple, wonderful words that she's confident she'll be able to return in kind soon.
"Happy New Year, my love."
Thank you all so SO much for your undying support throughout 2015, I can only hope the new year brings us all happier times and many, many more occasions to celebrate love and hope and friendship.
Happy 2016, folks!
