30Kisses Theme Ficlets

Robin/Raven

By Kysra

Theme #24 (good night): Confession

WARNING: If you have not had a sex education course, do not read this ficlet. There is nothing GRAPHIC. There is no NUDITY. But there is SEXUAL INNUENDO and other content of a more MATURE nature.

When Raven decided to turn in early, it was because of one of two things. Robin (aka Nightwing aka Richard Greyson) was betting on the second option rather than the first as he pulled the thick comforter over both their bodies. Gently, slowly he turned into her, belting her waist and tangling their legs together, his hips cradling her rear.

She was awake, he surmised by the shallow, irregular pattern of her breathing and the derisive snort she let out before reaching back to smack his thigh playfully.

"Richard, that had better be your bo staff because I am not in the mood." Her grousing broke through the still darkness, and he couldn't help but smirk into her hair.

Called it. "Now, dear, I know how you feel about weapons in the bedroom." There was a well-deserved chuckle writhing at the base of his throat as he imagined the roll of her eyes. Let the game begin.

There were variations but they had been through this conversation at least four times during the course of their ten year marriage, and it never ceased to amuse Raven's husband at her resistance to his . . . prying – at least where this was concerned. That she had never succeeded in resisting him was just icing on the cake.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I hate pet names?" She smacked at his thigh again, a little harder this time.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I like pet names?" He kissed the side of her neck, lingering there to feel her shiver under him.

Huffing out a long, exasperated breath, Raven turned her head slightly to grant him a side-long glance. "You're not going to let me sleep, are you?"

If he had been any other husband, he would have folded right there, but Robin knew better. "You're tired not sleepy. I'm letting you rest."

If she had been any other wife, she would have screamed into her pillow at that moment, but Raven had more self-control than that. "Thank you for letting me rest. Now, if you would like to sleep in this bed with me for the next week and not the couch, I advise you to shut up."

His lips found her ear and promptly latched onto the lobe, and she gasped softly though her body remained rigid against his. "Why aren't you in the mood?"

She hummed appreciatively when his tongue found her pulse point, her voice becoming faint and halting. "What happened to questions like, 'How was your day' or a simple, 'Good night.'"

Thrusting his hips more firmly into her backside, Robin couldn't help an inward crow of self-congratulation. Got ya. "Ok, honeysuckle, how was your day?"

"Remind me why I didn't let Slade or Trigon kill you while I had the chance?"

"You couldn't stand to even imagine a world without my devastating good looks."

"Right." She sighed and arched her back as his hand reached between her legs. "Are you saying I'm shallow?"

God, he needed to kiss her, but first – "Not at all. You have good taste in genes." When his mouth finally closed over hers, she let out a small cry that he felt to his toes. Still, this seduction had begun with one purpose and one purpose only. Still – as with the previous discussions mentioned, Robin found himself forgetting that purpose in favor of a more immediate one.

"I love you," Raven breathed when they parted, "but you are not going to win this one."

The hell he wasn't. "I already know." The hand not currently occupied below her waist caressed a plump breast.

As she tipped her chin up, her crown pushing against his shoulder, Robin knew his wife was on the cusp of surrender. "Know what, . . . exactly?"

He loved it when she was like this, all panting and open with heated skin and just beginning to break a sweat, ready to fall apart and welcoming it. It was a rare thing these days, and the Teen Titan turned solo superhero silently prayed that there would be no tiny knocks upon their door tonight.

They had some private celebrating to do.

Past strategy dictated his knee between both of hers and the hand fondling her chest to dip into her nightshirt. "I know that you've been feeling run down lately. Misbehaving?"

Several moments passed in silence marred by the panting of two riled adults before Raven's flat reply of, "Not going to happen, Richard."

But he was up to the challenge. She thought she wouldn't crack this time. He knew from past experience that she would. All that was needed was a little force.

Fisting fingers around the waistband of her panties, Robin gently pulled the material up and out, letting it rub against –

"Oh!"

His chuckle, when it was finally released, was low, feral, and accompanied by teeth scraping against the sensitive place where her neck and shoulder met. "Are you in the mood now, darling?"

It was a point of pride that he not admit – even to himself – that he certainly HOPED she was. Rather, he could acknowledge that he thoroughly enjoyed these sensual games they played when the occasion called for it. At their wedding, he had vowed that he would never let her slip into an unemotional void again. Afterwards, he quickly realized that the most efficient way to get Raven to express her emotions was physical stimulation.

Being the intelligent man he was, Robin had deduced that this was so due to control issues. Raven was arguably the commander-in-chief of their household (the corny side of him said that she was also the commander-in-chief of his heart). In the bedroom, however, Richard was lord and master. Raven had rarely ever taken the initiative, and Robin had never felt the need to beg her to take control. It was enough to know he could give her this gift of release; for though sex between them had always been mutually explosive, Robin had since found that his gratification was entirely wrapped up and complete in hers. Coitus was unnecessary, particularly since he knew she wasn't feeling up to it.
Now, if he could just get her to confess . . .

Utterly certain that Raven was only moments away from bending under the onslaught, he began to rotate his pelvis, coaxing the same movement pattern from her. Dimly, preoccupied with the alluring slope of one bared shoulder, he registered her whimpering.

"Robin . . . mmmmm . . . "

"Tell me, baby. I want to hear you say it."

His fingers stroked in and around at the apex of her thighs, and suddenly she was leaning forward and away from him, her small hands grasping at the sheets.

"Please --"

"I'll stop if you don't tell me. Give it up, love."

Her eyes screwed shut and her bottom lip was caught between worrying teeth. He pursued her, not minding the mass of sweat built up between them, and used his free hand to turn her face to his as he brought their mouths together.

The kiss was long, deep, and sloppy (just the way he liked it), and as the parting of their lips caused a light 'pop' to disturb the sounds of their labored breathing and the rustling of bedsheets, she hotly whispered the words he had waited to hear all day.

"I'm pregnant . . . again." Then she let out a high-pitched keening wail of release, and he clasped himself around her protectively until the tremors ebbed and their hearts calmed.

When all was still again, she turned to cuddle close to him - front to front instead of back to front as they had been, and her hands came up to cradle his face.

"How is it that everytime we talk about having another child, I get pregnant within a month of the conversation regardless of what we decide?"

The grin he flashed could be described as evil. "I always did have impeccable timing."

Raven's eyes narrowed dangerously as she spit out the warning, "This is the last."

Robin's hand moved hers so that he could kiss her palm. "Six is a good number."

She almost countered with, "Can I have that in writing?" Instead, a tired sigh escaped her as the distinct yelling of their fourth child - Joy - reached them through the walls of their home.

It was Robin who reacted. "Nightmare. I'll see to her. You need to sleep." As he made to exit their bed, Raven couldn't help the urge to reach up and kiss him again. This one was gentle, loving.

"Good night, sweetheart." Raven smiled sweetly at her husband as he made his way, satisfied, to the door. There was no need for wishes, it was already a good night.