Tumblr Prompt: Sex in the oval office (so basically just shameless smut).

Enjoy!


"You're doing it again," she says, but her voice is too breathy for it to carry the proper chiding, caught up as she is in the sinful swirls of his tongue against her neck.

"Doing what?" Robin asks from where he stands behind her, like he has no idea he's driving her insane with the sucking kisses he's now planting by her collarbone.

"You know perfectly well what," she practically groans, her hands dropping the folder they'd been holding on the corner of her desk, her head falling slowly to the side to give more room to his wandering lips. "I've told you not to distract me while I work."

"You've been working all day," he murmurs against that spot by her jaw that makes her squirm when he kisses it. "Take a break."

"Presidents don't get brea— mmm," she moans when his hands come up from behind her and cup her breasts over her blouse. He breathes out a satisfied laugh, kneads the swells more firmly, his teeth gently raking over her skin.

"What if we loosen these up a bit, hm?" he mutters as his fingers deftly start to play with the buttons on her shirt, undoing them one by one while his lips drop kiss after kiss down her neck and back up again.

"Robin, we're in the oval office," she remarks, but it sounds lazy even to her, her lips suddenly dry when her husband pushes fabric aside and pulls down the cups of her bra, fingers rolling her nipples as he rests his chin on her shoulder, watching the movement of his hands as they squeeze and fondle her.

"Mm, yes we are," he acknowledges, "and personally, I think it's quite a shame you've been president for almost a full term and we've yet to christen this place."

She says nothing for a moment, only licks her lips and arches her back into his touch, his hands still playing with her breasts, still kneading and teasing.

"We were interrupted last time, remember?" she whispers. "Don't want a repeat of that."

"And that is why I came in after Roland's bedtime, and locked the main door," he insists, his voice husky and delicious as it rumbles against her.

"The study side door is half-open, though," she remarks in a needy tone. "Someone could hear."

"There's no one around," Robin continues. "Besides, you've no idea..." he says as he sucks at her neck again, "how many times I've wanted to take you right here, on this desk. Just bend you over and have my way with you."

She whimpers at that, pressing her thighs together as wetness builds between them, her hand darting back to play with the hair at the back of his neck as she pushes against him, his chest flush against her back as they turn their heads into each other and kiss sloppily.

"Still want me to leave and let you work?" he asks then, smiling smugly at her while his hand travels down her body, teases the skin under her now-untucked blouse.

"I suppose a break would be a good idea," Regina answers, turning fully around to face him and moaning loudly when his mouth descends on her, feasting on her left nipple, sucking and licking until she's panting.

He bestows the same attention on the other pert peak, and Regina threads her hand into his hair, pulling at it slightly as she rolls her hips instinctively against him.

"I want you," he rasps into her mouth, his moan swallowed by her own when he shoves one hand into her pants and touches the wet, slick skin of her.

"Really? I had no idea," she jokes breathily, laughing with him for a moment before they're back at it, his lips wonderful and needy, his tongue velvety and warm as it toys with hers.

Her clothes are gone before she even registers what's happening, and Robin's pants and underwear are suddenly pooling on the floor along with her own, his hands skimming around her waist until they slip down to her rear, squeezing there as he presses her closer to him, their mouths practically attacking each other for long, delicious seconds.

It suddenly hits her when he starts rubbing at her clit, that she's naked in the oval office. Naked and wet and panting as her very attractive sex god of a husband works his magic fingers inside her, building her up and up and up until she's begging for release.

He doesn't give it to her, though, stops touching her just as she sinks her teeth into his shoulder and wraps an arm around him, ready to come on his hand and scream the entire building down in the process. Instead she lets out a frustrated whine, pulls back to look at him in annoyance.

He's grinning at her, his other hand squeezing at her waist and pressing her against his hard cock, the tip of him bumping against her lower stomach.

His teeth latch onto her bottom lip and pull gently, let go just so he can whisper five words that have her body flaring with heat.

"Turn around, and bend over."

She can't help the full, throaty moan she lets out at his command, does just as he instructs as she kicks her clothes out of the way, so that her feet are firmly planted on the lush carpet as she stretches her upper body face-down on the desk.

Robin leaves her there, sets about removing as many items from the table as possible, and then he's back to standing behind her, kneeling and grabbing the backs of her thighs, spreading her open and then giving her a slow lick from her clit to her entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet, my love," he murmurs against her, rubbing a finger along her slit before he goes back in and licks again, letting his tongue venture inside her and circle there before he darts it back out and down to her clit. Regina moans, her hands roaming the near-empty surface of the desk for something to hold on to, until her fingers catch on the carved edge and squeeze, her knuckles going white with the strength of her grip.

"God, Robin, please," she begs, and she doesn't know exactly what she's begging for. He's there, with his tongue inside her, bringing her pleasure beyond belief, and yet she's asking for something... for more.

He doesn't dawdle, applies more pressure to her clit with his tongue, laps and sucks at her rhythmically, picking up speed as her shallow breaths get louder and louder, transforming into whimpers and moans of his name as she grips the desk tighter and opens her legs just a tad more, just enough for the tip of his tongue to slip further into her, and oh, god, this is incredible.

His finger is inside her next, pushing up towards that spot that unravels her, and when he finds it, when he presses hard against it on the next thrust of his hand, she screams, the sound muffled against her arm. She bites there, trying to keep the sounds at bay, but not even the mortifying threat of someone hearing her and coming in is enough to stop the orgasm from building, that coil inside her tightening more and more with every pass of Robin's tongue over her clit.

"That feels amazing," she blabs, rolling her hips without thinking, enjoying the shift of his hand as it finds a better angle to fuck her with, and why was she resisting this, again? It feels so good. So good.

"Don't stop!" she pleads, and "Fuck, I'm so close, babe, so close."

"Do you want me to make you come?" he asks, "Tell me, Regina."

"Yes. God, yes!" she moans, pushing back against his hand when he adds a second finger, her self control shattering as she lets out another scream, one that isn't muffled this time, but she no longer cares. And yes, maybe having the door to the study ajar means the soundproofing features within the office aren't working right now, but it's late, just after ten, Robin is right, there's probably no one arou—

"Ma'am, are you there? I was doing my rounds and heard something, is everything okay?" a voice asks from the other side of the main door, accompanied by a light knock. John. Of course.

"Yes, Agent Little, everything is fine," she calls out, trying her best to not sound breathy and wanton, even when Robin lets out a smug little laugh and rams his fingers harder into her. "I just, I— god, yes, right there," she exhales, hoping John didn't hear that particular bit as she raises her voice to add, "I just... tripped... on my way to the file cabinet, that's all." She's gasping between words, half moaning her excuse, and she knows she'll be terribly embarrassed in the morning, but for now all she cares about is getting John as far away from her office as possible. "I'm okay. You can return to your station."

"Alright, ma'am, I'll be standing by upstairs if you need me," John says from the other side of the door, and then it's back to the delicious pumping of Robin's fingers inside her, his mouth closing around her clit and sucking hard on one particularly strong thrust of his hand. And then she's coming, gasping and writhing under his touch as she muffles her next scream against her arm once more, her hips circling slowly as they ride out her orgasm on his nimble digits.

God, this was a good idea.

She's sweaty, her skin sticking a bit to the wooden surface beneath her, but she feels fantastic.

"Robin, I need you to..." she trails off on a tiny moan, as he leans in to plant a kiss on her too-sensitive clit.

"Need me to what, Madam President?" he teases, withdrawing his mouth from her and landing little kisses along her rear, down to the back of her thighs, and she gasps out for him, shakes her ass a bit to try and tell him what she wants, too tired to speak. The little jiggle brings about a strangled moan from Robin, his teeth nipping at her left cheek. And still he waits, doesn't move to do more. He wants her to say it.

So she does.

She doesn't know how, doesn't know when exactly it is that she finds her sass and her voice again, but she does, she finds them, and then rasps, in the most firm tone she can muster, "I need you to fuck me."

He needs no more encouragement than that, is up and spreading her legs a little further as he caresses her ass, moves that same hand up her back and into her hair, playing with the soft tresses as he presses closer to her, his shaft moving in and out between her legs, rubbing along her clit and her entrance, the wetness there coating him as she moans out loud.

He enters her on the next pass, one smooth stroke that has him buried to the hilt inside her, his torso bending over her, his chest pressed tight against her back as he kisses the side of her neck and then brings his nose to her hair, grunting his ecstasy as he tells her how good she smells, how perfect she feels, how tight, how warm, how slick.

"Fuck, I love being inside you," he mumbles into her hair, and then he's thrusting, building a rhythm as he goes, fast and unrelenting, hitting that spot inside her again, riling her up once more. She didn't think she'd come again, but the harder he goes, the better it feels, and in minutes she's grasping the edge of the desk again, groaning at the dull sound of his skin slapping against hers over and over.

"Oh, god, yes! Just like that," she tells him, and then she feels her body being pulled up. He's bringing her with him, pulling her flush against him as he rises, one arm wrapped around the front of her, just over her breasts, pressing her tightly to him, and then that hand is on her neck, gentle but firm, pulling her head back until his mouth is at her jaw. His other arm loops around her waist, pressing into her belly and causing a new wave of sensation to hit as he pounds into her.

Her hair is a mess, sweaty and sticking to her face, but it adds to the thrill of it all, to the wild abandon with which he's fucking her against the desk. The arm on her waist falls slightly, so that his fingers can reach her clit and rub and rub just as the hand on her chest finds a breast and kneads, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

"Oh, fuuuuuuuck!" she yells out when he sinks his teeth into her shoulder and rams his cock harder and harder inside her, hitting her G-spot with perfect pressure, making stars erupt behind her eyelids as she comes again, slamming her hips back into his and arching her back away from his chest, pushing her breast more insistently into his hand.

"Fuck, that's beautiful," he husks as he gives her nipple another squeeze, slows his rhythm to bring her down from her high, but she doesn't want that.

"Don't stop," she whispers, gasping for breath as she moves her hips more insistently.

"Are you sure?" she feels him ask against her neck, his hand moving in a soothing path up and down her arm from behind her. Regina nods furiously, bites her lip as she closes her eyes and presses back against him.

"I'm sure," she insists, "go hard again. I want to feel you."

With that, Robin picks back up, and comes with a cry of her name less than a dozen thrusts later, his hands both moving to cup her breasts as he spasms and empties himself inside her.

They collapse on the desk, letting the worn wood support their upper bodies as they sag against it. Regina's legs are weak, shaky, but Robin is right behind her, his body a welcome weight atop her, his lips peppering tiny kisses along her back, one hand pushing her hair to the side as they both catch their breath.

"That was..." she trails off, panting still, "that was a good break."

She feels him laugh above her, the quiet snicker he lets out blowing hot air over the skin of her back.

"I'd say so," he agrees, dropping a kiss just over her shoulder blade.

"This desk was a gift from Queen Victoria, you know," she says, chastising him, chastising them both, really, but she can't bring herself to feel one bit sorry for what has just transpired.

Robin laughs again, rises and brings her with him, plopping himself on her chair and sitting her on his lap. His hand rises to her face, index finger running down the bridge of her nose before he cups her cheek, and she leans into the touch, looks at him expectantly.

He shakes his head at her, moves in to kiss her lips.

"God save the queen," he whispers against her mouth, and it makes laughter bubble up and out of her as she cuddles closer into his warm embrace.

They stay there, naked and sated in the oval office, until sleep begins to take over, forcing them out of their comfy cocoon and back to their room.

As they leave her work space, however, Regina can't help but turn back, grinning saucily at the mahogany marvel where her husband has just made her come. Twice.

God save the queen, indeed.