For Dark!OQ Week Day 6 - Smut Day.
She doesn't mean for it to start like this. Doesn't even mean to start anything, really, but he's talking to some bar wench at the tavern –their tavern—, laughing at something or other. He even leans in close to hear what she has to say, gives her his undivided attention throughout their conversation, and flashes her one of those smiles Regina likes to think are only meant for her own eyes and no one else's.
It all sparks up this... urge. This need to just... claim him.
Rationally, she knows he hadn't been doing anything other than talk to the poor girl, who looked like she was having a terrible day (a mudslide had blocked the main road, which had resulted in a lot of stragglers spending the night at the tavern, drinking far more than their fill and crowding her space). But Regina has lost a man like him before, and the thought of losing him again, this time to some pretty blonde thing with big green eyes, doesn't fill her with fear, but with rage.
It's why she'd grabbed him by the hand without so much as a glance, dragged him outside, and pressed him against the wall of the dark alley in which they're currently fucking...
She'd scored her nails down his naked torso the moment his shirt was off, growled her jealousy (because who is she kidding, really? It's jealousy, plain and simple), and bitten his lower lip so hard he'd winced and pushed her back, soothing the sting of rejection she'd been too weak to mask by turning them around and slamming her against the cold stone, his mouth lost in her neck.
His hand had ventured lower, shoving aside the simple skirt she'd worn today in an effort to not draw attention to herself while out in public, and thrust two fingers inside her, while his other hand had shoved down the constricting fabric of her corset and sucked greedily at her nipples.
That hand between her legs had worked her up well, enough so that she'd been wet and begging for his cock in mere minutes, and now he's pushing up into her, her thighs tightening their hold around him with every hard thrust of his hips. Her nails dig into his naked back, rake a path that ends in little crescent indents on his skin, and he's never looked more attractive to her than right now, bathed in lust and marked by her.
His grunts and pleasured moans echo in her own voice as she tells him how good he feels, how hot, how hard, how—Fuck, yes! Just like that.
Regina all but hollers the words, probably alerting a drunkard or two nearby to her illicit activities, but she can't bring herself to care, only holds on tighter and rolls her hips to meet his every thrust, moaning loudly even as she bites his earlobe and tells him to go harder.
He takes direction well, and suddenly her back is rubbing roughly against the solid mass behind her as he pins her to the wall and fucks her faster, better, hotter. It's exactly what she needs, she can feel every inch of him as he moves, little jolts of pleasure coursing through her body in a way that overwhelms her and makes her demand more.
"You're a fucking goddess," he rasps into her neck, moving his hands to better hold onto her, squeezing her ass and moaning at the same time she does. He loves her ass, she knows that, quite enjoys taunting him with skintight riding outfits more often than not, and his grip on her is strong, determined, his cock thick and hard and amazing as he pistons in and out of her.
They're gasping, clawing at each other as she tells him, "Don't stop, don't stop-don't—fuck, that feels so good. More."
She doesn't clarify what she wants more of, but he seems to catch on all the same, shifting them only a little bit, enough to get deeper, and Oh! Oh, yeeeesssssss fuck me she hisses in his ear, because she can feel the tip of him hitting that spot inside her over and over again. Her eyes roll back as she gives in to the unbelievable bouts of pleasure, each thrust bringing her closer and closer.
"Are you gonna come? Fuck, tell me you're gonna come," he whines into her neck, and she feels the trembling in his body, that tell-tale sign that he's holding back, waiting for her.
"I need…" she trails off, not really knowing what it is that she needs. She could come just like this. Fuck, yes, she definitely could, but she wants… she needs… he's…
His hand wedges itself between them, an awkward angle that must have his arm cramping as it forces its way between their bodies. But on it goes, until two of his fingers can touch her clit, right under where he's bunched up her skirt around their hips. The touch is sloppy, but it's good, the pad of his finger pressing just where she wants it and rubbing in tight little circles that tingle and ignite every single part of her, until she's screaming his name as she finally comes.
"Oh shit, that's it, love, that's— Mmm, fuck, yes, keep going, come on, ride it out," he grunts, his thrusts slower and more measured, but still hard, still firm enough to hit that spot and make that tight coil of pleasure explode in thousands of tiny little waves of delicious sensation, prolonging her bliss while he chases his own.
He spills into her with a groan, his teeth nipping at the hollow between her neck and shoulder as he gives her a few more erratic thrusts and exhales warmly into her skin.
The night air cools the sweat sheening their bodies, and Regina shivers as the cold caresses her very wet, very sensitive nipples. Robin chuckles softly, the sound drowned by the merriment that can be heard from inside the tavern, now that they're not so focused on the sounds they elicit from each other.
Slowly, he pulls back far enough to let her legs fall from where they're wrapped around his waist. He slips out of her when she moves, and they both let out a little whine as they situate themselves, her back still pressed against the stone wall, his hands keeping a gentle grip on her hips after her skirt has fallen back into place and he's tucked himself back into his trousers.
Regina has a bit of a hard time standing, still feeling wobbly from the aftershocks of her orgasm, but Robin holds her steady, his nose tracing a soft line down the side of her neck, until his lips are right on her shoulder, and he dots a kiss there before sliding her linen sleeve back into place.
"You look positively ravishing, even dressed as a commoner," he compliments, then dives in to steal a quick kiss from her lips. Regina smiles, rolls her eyes a bit as she looks down at her crumpled dress, feeling the evidence of what they just did trickling down her thigh under her skirt.
"That was... unbelievable," he tells her, tightening his grip on her waist and kissing her fervently, tongues tangling in a dance long familiar now, after months of sharing a roof and a bed. She delights in his praise, swipes her tongue teasingly over his upper lip, and then sinks her teeth into his bottom one, taunting him with a hot little bite before pulling away altogether.
But as it turns out, he already knows her too well, and she loses all hope of him thinking she just wanted a quickie in the alley when he assures her, "I wasn't courting the barmaid, you know."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she says haughtily, but it's hard to keep a regal, unattached air about her when she's dressed like a villager and has just let him come inside her.
"Of course you do, you were staring daggers at the poor girl," he insists with a mischievous little smile, adding, "And I must say, if this is how you're going to react, I might start a conversation with the lovely Madeline again tomorrow night."
He wiggles his eyebrows at her then, and it's a stupid joke, one that she shouldn't find funny at all, considering how smug he is right now, but she does, and laughs softly, shaking her head and telling him, "Don't think so highly of yourself, thief."
He grows serious for a moment then, his hands leaving her waist to take both of hers, palms touching and sharing in the warmth of their bodies.
"I've no interest in being with anyone else," he tells her, with such certainty that it shakes her.
They haven't discussed the parameters of their relationship. Have been sleeping together for months, sure, but this is the first time they've acknowledged there's more there than just sex, and there isn't a hint of fear in his eyes as he insists, "I only want you, Regina."
"I only want you, too," she admits, and she hasn't even finished the sentence when he's kissing her again, long and slow and deep, his tongue savoring her, teasing hers. Regina revels in the way he explores the taste and feel of her, and does the same to him.
When they re-enter the tavern, his arms are immediately on her, wrapped around her waist from behind as his mouth does delicious things to her neck. She's tempted, so tempted to just give into it and let him do all the things he's whispering into her skin (he's promising to bend her over the big oak desk in the library, promising to lick and suck at her until she comes on his tongue, and gods, she wants that, wants it so, so much). But they have a mission, a plan to follow, so instead, she simply walks on, and sits by one of the most annoying drunks currently pestering the barmaid.
He's old, and sleazy, and it's almost too easy for Regina to flirt herself onto his lap, putting on her sexiest smile as she flaunts her cleavage and lets the man talk her ear off, taking his attention away from the young woman eyeing her gratefully.
What the intoxicated idiot beneath Regina doesn't notice, however, is that while she's letting him build up a stiffy under her thigh, her thief is just behind him, depriving him of his gold and other valuables with practiced ease.
Regina gives their victim a sly little grin, then rises and moves on to the next.
By the time she and Robin leave the tavern, they've taken money from at least nine of the men accosting poor Madeline. Regina watches as Robin then stealthily places a big purse of gold coins in front of the girl when she reappears at the bar. He gives the young girl a wink and throws her a cheeky, "For your troubles," as he pushes the purse towards her.
Madeline gasps when she peeks in, and is instantly trying to return it, insisting that there must be enough gold in there to pay for their one tankard of ale at least a dozen times over.
"Consider the rest a tip, then," Regina offers. "You deserve it after the night you've had."
She's grateful, this Madeline, and waves them goodbye with nothing but praise, saying she hopes they return soon.
And they will, Regina thinks to herself. They'll most definitely come back, it's symbolic to them, after all. But right now, they have to get back to her castle.
The library awaits.