This is my contribution to this year's Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar, go check it out at onceuponanadvent (dot com) if you haven't yet. They've got wonderful OQ gifts made by the fandom for the fandom, including stories, videos, manips and other kinds of gorgeous art. This story is part of Day 15.
This story is rated R
There's a certain beauty to the way the sun touches over the ocean here.
The orange rays of dusk reflect on the surface, add a warmth that chases away the eeriness she's always associated with open water; make the swish-swashing of the waves soothing rather than ominous. Welcoming, rather than foreign and unforgiving.
It's beautiful. All those blues and pinks meshing together in the horizon, the wind carrying the scent of coconut oil and fragrant plumerias all around in perfect harmony. Regina has seldom seen something quite this stunning.
And it's wrong. All wrong.
Because tomorrow is Christmas Eve, and there is sand where there should be snow, palm trees where there should be pine, and an iced pineapple sugariness in her glass instead of Granny Lucas's hot chocolate. It isn't right, isn't fit, it isn't proper. This trip was a terrible idea.
You need to get out, Ruby had told her. You need to take a break, see something different. And fine, Regina will agree that a change of surroundings was a good plan, but did she really need to spend Christmas in Hawaii of all places?
It'd been Ruby's present to her this year, though, and an expensive one, so Regina hadn't been able to refuse. And it's not like it's been terrible. She likes Maui, likes the sand and the beach and the drinks, it's just... not how she would've chosen to spend this particular holiday.
But it's fine. Really. She's relaxed, having spent an afternoon lounging by the sea, with the hotel bar just a few steps away providing endless drinks and fresh snacks, and she has nowhere else to be, no people to answer to. She likes being alone, likes taking time for herself. And that's what the whole purpose for this trip was in the first place, right? To focus on herself and relax, rather than be stuck at home surrounded by memories of last Christmas?
But the thing is, when you think about it, last Christmas had actually been quite perfect. With snow and twinkle lights and a roaring fire while carols played on the radio, just her and Daniel curled up on the couch in sweaters and fuzzy socks, sipping on eggnog and talking about nothing and everything...
And to think he'd ruined all that perfection by sleeping with his secretary the very next day...
Still, though she appreciates that Ruby has sent her far enough away from all the reminders of last year, it grates on Regina that there's no sign of winter to enjoy. It feels too different. It's not Christmas.
"It's all rather backwards, isn't it?" a voice says from her right, and she jumps at the unexpected intrusion, turns to find a man there, a guilty expression forming on his face at her reaction.
"Sorry," he winces. "Didn't mean to startle you."
Regina gives herself a moment to exhale and calm her frazzled nerves, and he waits patiently while she takes him in, the tiki torches around the bar casting a soft, flickering light over his features.
He's gorgeous.
His hair is the color of maple syrup, with enticing streaks of gray peeking from the temples. His eyes match the sea lapping at the shore just a few feet away, one stubborn lock of hair falling over his lashes as he offers another apology. His jawline is strong, shadowed by stubble she just knows must feel wonderful to the touch (she imagines all of him must feel wonderful, he's unbelievably attractive). There's a sheepish smile on his face, framed by dimples that, were she standing, would probably make her weak at the knees.
"It's... it's fine," she stammers, one hand rubbing over her chest in an effort to soothe her wildly beating heart as she sits up on her beach chair, asking, "What were you saying?"
"You were scowling at the water," he explains as he takes the chair beside her. "I'm guessing this isn't your usual holiday landscape."
The soft, deep tone of his voice is made even sexier by the accent that accompanies it, and Regina gives him a small smile in reply, brings her knees up to rest her crossed arms over them and nods.
"It's... different," she admits. "I'm not sure I like it."
"Been battling with that particular conundrum myself for the past few days," he chuckles. "Robin Locksley."
"Regina Mills," she answers, extending her hand to shake his.
"Regina. Beautiful name," he compliments. "Quite... regal."
"Yes, well, my mother had a superiority complex," she jokes. Though that's not entirely a lie.
"It suits you," Robin insists, and she sarcastically tells him Yes, I'm a regular queen.
He grins his amusement, and it's embarrassing how tingly she feels knowing she's made his eyes crinkle at the corners like that.
"So, Your Majesty," he teases, chuckling when she rolls her eyes at him with a smile, "what brings you to the islands?"
"My best friend," she says lamely. "She thought this would cheer me up."
"Bad breakup?" he asks, and Regina frowns a little at her own predictability.
"Last Christmas," she admits with a nod. "I'm over it now, but... Ruby insisted I needed a change of scenery to avoid bad memories, so she sent me here."
"Ah, it seems we were both cajoled by friends into visiting this breathtaking paradise, then," he concludes. "Only mine decided to come along, to make sure I actually enjoyed myself instead of, as they say, 'moping around like a loser'. Those tossers."
"We really do have the worst friends," Regina tells him in mock-exasperation, and they share a brief laugh together. He's got a good laugh, the kind that rumbles up from the chest and pours out in genuine amusement; a true, hearty thing that somehow injects more joy in her than anything else on this island has so far.
"I think Ruby just wanted an excuse to stay with her girlfriend instead of going back to Maine with me for the holidays," she adds as an afterthought, and Robin hums, his eyes glued to her lips when she licks them instinctively.
"You're from Maine, then," he prods, and Regina hums her assent, clarifies that she lives in Boston currently, but usually spends her Christmases in her hometown of Storybrooke, with Ruby and her family. She then looks at him expectantly, until he picks up on the clue and answers her with, "London originally, but I've lived in New York for the past nine years."
"That's where I wanted to go for the holidays," Regina tells him, "I've always loved New York in winter."
"I'd imagine you'd be the only one," he laughs, then adds, "but I'm glad your friend sent you here instead. New York is a big city, who knows if we would've ever met there."
"Maybe we would have, briefly, at some bar on Christmas Eve or something, and you just wouldn't remember me after."
"Oh, I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you," he flirts, winking at her in a way that has her cheeks growing warm. "But I don't go out much during the Christmas season in the city. Too crowded. So as selfish as it might be, I'm glad you're here."
He's smiling at her, appraising her again, his eyes never straying from her face but enjoying the view regardless. She can tell by the way his mouth is just slightly open, by the way he leans just a little bit closer without realizing it.
"So," she begins, wishing away the fluster she can feel on her skin, "if you're with your pals, why are you here attempting to flirt with me instead of having fun with them?"
"Well, you see, my mates aren't quite as attractive as you," he quips.
"I have a feeling they'd be offended by that," she jokes, leaning forward a bit, her arms pressing more firmly into her knees.
"It's possible," he admits with a smile. "But I am enjoying your company far too much to care."
She smiles at him, that tingly feeling growing when he grins back at her and lifts his hand, letting it hover just over her face until she nods her permission for him to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. His touch is warm, and so soft, tentative almost, and she wonders how much more confident it would be if she were to express her interest a little more.
And she is interested. Very much so.
He wants to say something, stares at her like he's trying to find the words and then huffs out a humorless laugh as he veers his eyes away from her.
"What?" she asks.
"I'm just... a lot worse at this than I thought I would be." His voice is still tinged with amusement, but there's a bit of embarrassment there too, as he admits, "I haven't been... attracted to anyone in a quite a while. Not enough to... pursue it. Or try to, anyway."
"Could've fooled me," she answers, because he's been nothing but smooth. Even in the endearing awkwardness of this moment, she wants so badly to find out if he can kiss as well as he can flirt.
Finally, he takes a deep breath, then bites the bullet and asks, "May I buy you a drink, Regina?"
God, he's cute when he's nervous.
"Maybe later... if you play your cards right," she teases, and his answering smirk is so seductive she'd take him up to her hotel room right now if she wasn't so entranced by the way he's looking at her.
"Then perhaps I could take you for a walk in the moonlight?" he suggests, and only then does Regina realize how long they've been chatting. The sun has sunk in the horizon, a few stubborn rays still peeking out in feeble streaks, the pale yellow light growing progressively duller as darkness takes over.
The moon is starting to appear, full and grand, casting its silvery glow over the sand and the breaking waves, and with Robin's invitation now on the table, the prospect of getting to know a handsome, interesting man under the canopy of a perfect Hawaiian night, Regina is finally catching on to the appeal of Christmas at the beach.
Smiling, she nods, and takes his offered hand when her legs wobble a little as they rise from their respective chairs. The sleeves of his blue button-down are rolled up, showing firm muscles and sunkissed skin as he guides her around his own chair. He has a tattoo, she notices, a black, medieval sort of lion crest that stretches over his forearm, and she makes a point to ask him about it later.
She's in one of her favorite bathing suits, the one that frames her figure quite nicely with its patterned cross-front of white, orange and brown. She looks good, she knows she does, so when his eyes wander from her face and over her body, she lets him stare, takes her time reaching for the flowy white kimono wrap that's draped around the back of her chair.
He catches her smug grin, licks his lower lip without saying a thing, and suddenly her skin feels warm from something other than the sun she's been bathing in all day.
As soon as they're on their way, he lets go of her hand, respecting her space now that her footing is steady on the sand. For a moment she wishes he wouldn't, misses the warmth of him, but resists the urge to reach out as they walk, the moon lighting a path for them along the shore.
She tells him about her job as an editor in Boston, fills him in on the mundane comings and goings of her office, and he listens, hangs onto her every word, asks questions about the stories she tells him, the clients she mentions, the coworkers she rants about. He also tells her about his far more entertaining job as an astronomer, consulting for different museums in New York City and helping out with investigations at Columbia University; charmingly gives her fun anecdotes and narrates the most beautiful parts of his work for her. He's interesting. And smart. And witty. Makes her laugh with clever jokes and invites more of her smiles with playful little brushes of his arm against hers.
They're kindred spirits, she finds out. He grew up with an overbearing father, same as Regina's own mother, and they both sought refuge with friends and their warmer, healthier families. She found her home with Ruby and her grandmother, Robin did with a man named John (the mastermind behind this trip, he tells her) and his parents.
"Terrible friends we have," Robin jokes again, making her laugh as she tries to tame her curls, her hand attempting to keep them down despite the wind blowing stronger, the light, airy fabric of her wrap undulating with it as they chat.
He's a widower, he tells her, has been for the past four years now. His friend John thought bringing him to Hawaii would help drag him out of the blue mood he tends to favor during the holidays. Regina understands, and smiles, and thanks him for opening up to her.
"I think I'll always miss her, one way or another," he admits.
"Makes sense," she nods. "You loved her."
"Very much," Robin says. "I've moved on, put that pain behind me a long time ago, but..."
"She's a part of you," Regina finishes, and he nods.
"Is that pathetic?" he asks, and she smiles softly, tells him No, it isn't.
He looks relieved at that, and then pauses for a second.
"What?" she asks when he stares without words.
"Nothing," he says with a shake of his head, "I just... I'm very glad you're here."
Regina grins at him, feels her cheeks heating up again with a traitorous blush that she's grateful pales under the moonlight, and tells him, "So am I."
They start to move again, closer to the water now. Seafoam licks at her feet as they go, cool, wet sand squishing pleasantly between her toes with every step. And when his hand casually reaches for hers, Regina hides a smile by looking down at the ground, and easily laces her fingers with his as they walk.
She's not sure how it happened, how it went from innocent hand holding and playful conversation to this.
They haven't kissed, not yet, but he's solid and warm behind her, his arms wrapped tightly around her waist as his chin rests on her shoulder, lips brushing against the skin of her cheek as he tells her about the stars that shine on the horizon. He uses his vast knowledge of the heavens to seduce her, with that voice and that accent and that fresh, wintery scent of pine about him that overpowers the non-traditional smells of tropical flowers and sunscreen.
"You smell like forest," she says randomly, and feels his quiet chuckle warm against her ear.
"Is that bad?" he asks.
Regina shakes her head, smiling as she tells him, "No, it's... nice. Christmasy."
He chuckles again, and the warmth of his breath has a shiver running through her, which in turn makes him hug her tighter. She doesn't mind one bit. His arms are toned and strong as they loop around her and squeeze, and the sensation is so wonderful it's like they were meant to hold her all along. Regina revels in it, leans into him fully, her back supported by his chest as he swings them both from side to side, matching the slow cadence of the waves.
"Will you spend the day with me tomorrow, Regina?" he asks in a low voice.
"What will we do?" she mutters into the wind, her eyes closing, the better to enjoy him as he answers.
"I've a few ideas," he says, and his tone is... naughty. Mischievous, and god, she wants to, she really does.
But he has yet to kiss her, so instead of asking for a more... physical explanation, she presses on with, "Like...?"
"Well," he ponders, his voice vibrating against her neck as he buries his nose there and speaks. "We could travel through time; become bandits; go camping... anything we want."
"Sounds ambitious," she laughs, and adds, "What about your friends?"
"They can survive one day without me," he counters. "Please, Regina, I haven't felt this good in... years. I'd really like to spend more time with you."
And then she turns, and wets her lips with the tip of her tongue while he watches, the stars reflected in his eyes as they flicker over her face in appreciation.
He's even more attractive in the moonlight, even more enticing with the wind whispering around them, and he's been funny, and kind, and honest, so it's not difficult for her to nod and whisper Okay.
They're so close now, their faces mere inches apart, and she can feel his breath washing against her cheek, hears her own heart beating faster when he leans in. The tip of his nose brushes hers, and then his finger hooks under her chin and tips her head up.
"Tonight has been..." he trails off with a sigh, and she nods, tells him I know with a fond smile.
"You are a fantastic woman, Regina Mills," he says then, and he sounds so sincere, so genuinely into her, that it makes her grin.
"I bet you say that to all the girls," she counters, teasing him before she drops her gaze, in hopes it'll mask how shy the compliment makes her feel.
When she looks back at him, he's shaking his head, his forehead coming down to rest on hers, and Regina closes her eyes, breathes him in.
"I don't like all the girls, I like you. You're... stunning," he insists. "In every way."
Regina kisses him, and delights in the way his hand cradles her cheek instantly, his thumb rubbing over her jaw as they both finally give in.
It starts out as a series of feathery, light brushes of her lips against his, deepening into a lazy exploration as she trails her fingers up and down his spine, stopping at his lower back, where she grips at his shirt to anchor herself to him.
His touch becomes less hesitant when her tongue peeks out to lick his upper lip, and the hand he has on her face caresses its way back and buries into her hair, causing Regina to emit a low, satisfied little moan as she presses closer to him.
Robin slants his head to the side, deepening the next meeting of their lips, and she can taste him now, a faint hint of sweetness and tequila that pleases her. It's not overpowering, but enough to spice up their exchange, enough to make her inhale sharply and move her mouth a little more aggressively, eager for more of him.
She feels him start to pull away, feels the vibrations of his laughter when she keeps him there, one of her hands rising and gripping the hair at the back of his neck as she drinks her fill of him. He kisses back harder at her answering moan, his tongue more daring as it dances with hers, warm and wet and incredible.
When their lips finally part, she's light-headed, but in a good way, leans in close to buss his lips once, and then he surprises her, dips his head to press soft pecks along her cheek, her jaw, her neck, growing more playful with each one as he smiles against her skin and then moves back up, kissing the tip of her nose and then her mouth once again, the hand in her hair moving slowly down until it joins the other at the small of her back.
He's smiling when he opens his eyes to her, and Regina has to close her own so as not to get lost in that inviting blue, but she feels the deep, satisfied sigh he gives her, and kisses back when he leans in for one final peck.
Her skin is warm, tingly, and she wants more of this, of him, more of those tempting lips and the delicious feeling of his hands on her body.
He must want it, too. He's panting as he looks at her, still holding her around the waist, fingers dropping only slightly over the curve of her rear as he grins and lets out a low Wow.
She laughs, and he laughs with her, quiet and winded as they nervously stare at each other, trying to regain their composure.
This time, when they walk back to the hotel, they're throwing each other looks of raw desire, rather than shy appraisal, their touches are more deliberate, more frequent, often stopping in their stride so they can kiss a little more.
When he finally drops her off by the door to her room, they exchange numbers. He tells her it's To make sure we don't miss each other tomorrow, but there's that hint of mischief in his eyes again, and she realizes he's merely stalling so that he doesn't have to let her go just yet.
He's leaning in, brushing the tip of his nose down the bridge of hers, breathing her in and letting his mouth fall open as he licks his lips and asks, "Would you mind if I steal another?"
She smiles, and gives him another hungry kiss, indulges in the wet passes of his tongue against hers, the gentle scrape of her teeth over his lower lip, and that satisfied groan that escapes him when she presses herself flush against him.
"Can't steal something that's been given to you," she remarks, breathless as they part. Her lips are plump after all the kissing, her skin is flushed, and she feels bold, sexy, especially when he smiles at her words and squeezes at her waist where he holds her.
One more kiss, and then another. Sweet, individual exchanges that turn into a stream of little pecks when she can't find it in her to let him go.
"You still owe me that drink, you know," he says when they pause.
"Yes," Regina admits with a grin, "I suppose I do."
"Tomorrow?" he asks with a final press of his lips on hers.
She nods, her grin growing wider, and confirms, "Tomorrow."
He takes her on an ATV tour of the West Maui Mountains, their laughter drowned by the loud rumble of their vehicle as they speed away from the designated roads and explore uncharted territory. They take turns driving, trash talking each other like teenagers every time they stop to trade the wheel. Regina doesn't remember ever having this much fun.
He's bolder now, she notices, teases and taunts and promises to do devilish things to her when she flirts with him. They try to kiss often, but their helmets and goggles clank together and startle them apart. They both grin like idiots every time, but it's too much of a hassle to remove all the protective gear only to put it back on again, so he promises to "snog" her good and proper later today, and they get back on the road.
They're covered in dirt and mud by the time they're done, sweaty and grimy but breathless in their laughter. His hand holds onto hers, tugs at her until her front smacks against his. The bandana he'd been wearing around his nose and mouth is now hanging loose around his neck, just like hers, and he looks... yummy.
So she kisses him. It's... dirtier than she'd imagined, messy as they are, but he's hot, and strong, and a great kisser, and they're both dirty anyway, might as well enjoy it. They keep it chaste, though, so as not to end up tasting the dust caked on their faces, but it's warm and wonderful nonetheless.
For lunch, after they've gone back to the hotel to wash off and change, he takes her to a casual restaurant nearby, where they try the local foods and watch each other's reactions to the new and unique flavors of poi and kalua pig. It's light, and fun, but they take a few minutes during their meal to discuss the darker, less enchanting aspects of their lives. He tells her more about his wife, about the car accident in which she died, about his friends and their wish to break him out of the habit of not-living that he's fallen into for the past few years.
He also tells her about his mom, about their Christmas traditions growing up, some happy, some sad. Regina notices how he skims over tales of his father, how he moves on as quickly as possible from any stories that involve the man, and she feels for him, understands that unpleasant taste of resentment and commiserates with him.
In a show of solidarity, she tells him about her own mother, about her impossible expectations and the way she'd control what and how much Regina ate during holiday dinners. He frowns, angry, he tells her, over the fact that anyone would seek to mistreat her the way Cora did growing up.
"I'm sorry you had to deal with that," he says sincerely, and Regina shrugs, taking a bite of the laulau she's chosen to try as she tells him it was a long time ago, and anyway, she found Ruby very early on.
"She and Granny transformed my Christmases," she tells him fondly, spearing a piece of pineapple with her fork. "So I would sit through Mother's dinners, and take all her little jabs, and then reward myself by sneaking off to Ruby's and having all the peppermint bark and cookies I wanted."
He laughs at that, insists he's glad she found joy in the holiday despite her situation.
"My mother and I haven't spoken in years," she continues. "My father died when I was very young, and Cora was... well, Cora. She was my mother but she wasn't... she wasn't family. She never loved me. Granny and Ruby. They love me. They are family. And..."
"Yes?" he prods when she catches herself. Regina sighs.
"Well, Daniel. He was family. We grew up in the same town, both moved out to Boston at around the same time. We'd been there for each other all our lives, and I... I loved him, but..."
"I'm sorry," he says, reaching across the table to hold her hand. Regina shakes her head, waving away the subject, but finds herself talking about it anyway.
"Don't be, you're not the one I caught with his secretary bent over the desk," she mutters bitterly.
"Oh, Regina," he says, "I'm— "
"Sorry, yes, I know," she retorts with a humorless laugh.
"You didn't deserve that. No one does."
"Worst Christmas ever," she says needlessly, and, "He said it was a mistake," she elaborates, thinking back to that awful day almost exactly a year ago. "He admitted it, told me he was sorry, that it wouldn't happen again, that he doesn't know what came over him, that it was the first and only time, but I just... I couldn't trust him after that, you know?"
"Of course."
"I thought we had a perfect relationship. That we could make each other happy forever. So for a while after we broke up, I didn't think I'd ever be happy again," she admits, looking down at her food, not sure why she feels ashamed to be saying these things.
"After I... lost my wife, I felt like that for a long time," Robin tells her. "Her death was the worst pain I ever experienced."
"I'm sorry," she consoles, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.
"I would've walked through hell to be with my Marian again, but... when I finally admitted to myself that she was gone, and that she was never coming back, I had to let that pain go."
"And how do you feel now?" Regina asks, because the devotion with which he speaks about his wife has a little zing of insecurity coursing through her.
Robin looks at her, his grip on her hand tightening in reassurance as he tells her, "I'm sitting here, in this tropical paradise with a very beautiful, very interesting, smart, fun woman. I'm quite happy, Regina."
She feels her cheeks flush with heat, and gives an incredulous laugh in response.
"We've known each other for a day. Do you really see all that in me?" she asks then, her curiosity winning out. Robin sighs, nods as he lifts their joint hands to his lips and lands a kiss on her knuckles.
"I do," he affirms. Adding, "And you're quite a good kisser."
Regina lets her hand fall from his so she can cross her arms over the table and lean forward, head dipping to hide her shy smile as she says, "You're not so bad yourself, Locksley."
"I'm very glad to hear it," he whispers, her idiotic grin now mirrored on his face.
They spend their afternoon at the same beach where they met, talking and finally having that drink she promised him, all while they talk and banter.
He's in a short sleeved white button-down and green swim trunks, Regina in her white strapless bikini, the blue-and-white print dress she'd worn over it now folded neatly in her bag (she'd seen the way he'd looked at her as she took it off, and enjoys the way he can't resist licking his lips at the sight of her).
At some point, she dozes off, and is pleasantly awakened by Robin running the backs of his fingers softly down her shoulder. She hums her appreciation, her eyes still closed, and delights in the gravelly Good morning, sunshine he teases her with.
And then something cold presses against her arm, and she jumps, eliciting an embarrassed "Sorry!" from Robin as he cringes and offers up a refill for her piña colada. Regina sighs out a laugh, takes the drink from his hand and tells him Thank you.
"I really should stop scaring you like this, shouldn't I?" he says, making light of his own mistake.
"It's not the best seduction tactic," she agrees.
"I do hope it hasn't cost me any points," he teases, but Regina can detect the slightest hint of true curiosity there, of real apprehension.
"I'd say your chances are still pretty good," she reassures him.
"No points lost?" he presses, and then beams at her when she confirms, No points lost.
She toys with her straw a little as she takes a sip of the new colada he's brought her, fiddles with the slice of pineapple decorating the rim of her glass until it slips off, and brings it to her lips. When she bites into it, Robin takes the maraschino cherry that tops her drink for himself, pulling on the stem and giving her a challenging look when she raises an eyebrow at him.
Regina swallows her bite of pineapple, watching as a red drop of the sweet maraschino juice coats Robin's lower lip, and leans forward to taste it on him, a low Mmm tumbling out of her as they part.
"Minx," he accuses, his eyes darkening as he licks where she just kissed. Regina giggles (and later, when she's not so mellowed out by piña coladas and the hot man currently eyeing her like candy, she'll probably be embarrassed by it), and leans back on her chair to watch the ocean.
But Robin has other ideas, and bids her "Come with me?" as he rises, taking his shirt off and offering his hand to her.
Regina takes it with an ease she wasn't expecting to feel only a day after meeting him, but doesn't question the closeness, the casual intimacy as he laces their fingers together and walks her into the water. When they're deep enough, he pulls her closer, and her legs float away from the bottom, wrapping around his waist as her arms do the same around his shoulders, and he moves them a few paces into the clear blue, the sun shining high up in the sky as they exchange a look.
He leans in then, but not to kiss her. Instead, he rests his forehead on her shoulder, breathes in and tells her, "Thank you for agreeing to spend today with me."
Her cheeks hurt from smiling, and she shakes her head to wave him off when he pulls back to look at her.
"Thank you for inviting me. It's the first time I've had real fun since I arrived here," she confesses, but sighs somewhat dejectedly.
"You still miss winter, don't you?" he asks, and Regina nods.
"I'm sorry," she excuses, "I really have loved everything about today, it's been great. It's just..."
"Not the Christmas you wanted," he agrees, nodding.
"We'd be making snowmen outside Granny's right now, if I were home. And I... I like it here, I like this," she says pointedly, squeezing her legs around him a little tighter. She doesn't miss the flash of heat in his eyes as she does it. "I guess I'm just a little nostalgic, is all."
He leans in and kisses the tip of her nose, again with that casual intimacy they shouldn't have so early in the game. And then she notices the water grow warmer, and lower, her legs gaining weight as he moves, and realizes he's walking them back to the shore.
"Are we leaving?" she asks, confused. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring the mood down."
"No, no, that's not it. I just want to show you something," he tells her, his voice calm and steady in her ear. He's still carrying her, even though the water no longer makes her weightless, and she feels a little self conscious, but then... she really likes feeling his hands grip the backs of her thighs, so she holds on, waits until they're completely out of the water to let her legs fall from his waist.
Robin plops down on the ground, his hands sinking into the wet sand and grasping fistfuls of it, piling them together and patting them until they're smooth.
"What are you doing?" she questions, staring down at him with a frown.
He looks up at her, but his explanation dies on a groan as he lets out a low "Fuck," and tells her "I'm sorry. It's just... you look bloody gorgeous right now."
Regina knows this white bikini is a good look on her, that the strapless top and well-fitted bottoms give her a nice shape and showcase her best attributes. But there's clumps of sand sticking to her legs, her curls are messy and tangled, and a bit crispy from the saltwater that has dried on them, and her face is probably a bit blotchy now after being exposed to the sun for so long, so her answer to his compliment comes in the form of a skeptical look.
"I mean it," he insists, rising and clapping most of the sand off his hands before he moves them to her waist, fingers toying with the skin exposed by the big gold hoops at her hips. "Just look at you, all dripping wet and absolutely delicious."
He's licking his lips, raking his gaze over her chest and back up to her face, and then tells her, in such a low voice she's not sure she's meant to hear it, "I could just eat you."
"Maybe later," she taunts, and steps away from his hold.
"You promise?" he flirts back and Regina taps her chin with her index finger, considers him for a moment.
"We'll see," she answers, and he laughs and calls her Evil.
"Hey, now, that's a bit of an overstatement," Regina teases him. "Bold and audacious, perhaps, but... not evil."
He's looking her up and down again, licking his lips again, and she feels her mouth open slightly at the sight of him being so turned on by her. The heat of his gaze is doing things to her, as is the low, raspy tone in which he says, "Bold, evil, I don't much care as long as I get to taste you."
"Stop," she whines, closing her eyes and taking deep breaths to try and calm her hormones, because he'd been about to show her something before this little game started, and there's only a couple of hours left of sunlight. They'll have all night to do... everything else. "And show me what it is you're doing down there."
He takes her hand then, drags her down onto the ground with him, and moves back to piling wet sand and smoothing it out until it forms a big ball.
Only then does he look at her and say, "Well, you wanted Christmas, so... we are building a snowman."
"A what?"
"Well, sandman would be a more appropriate term, I suppose, but..."
"You're..." she doesn't know why, but the gesture touches her deeply, and for a moment she has to look away from him, lest the tears building in her eyes decide to fall.
"Are you alright?" Robin asks, concerned.
"I'm fine," Regina assures him. "I just... thank you. This is very sweet."
He gives her a boyish grin in return, and then assigns, "Choose some shells and stuff for the decorating, yeah? I'll keep going on the body."
Regina smiles, and sets about her task, picking pretty white shells and even tiny dry starfish she finds near the water (some of their points are a little broken, but they'll do). She sets all her treasures right next to Robin, and then joins him in rolling sand into a second ball to go atop the first.
Some handfuls of sand later, they're putting the finishing touches on their "snowman". Robin runs to the bar for a moment, and comes back with a maraschino cherry for the nose. The starfish end up being the buttons on the snowman's coat, his eyes and smile depicted by a series of well-arranged white shells. They use driftwood twigs for the arms, sticking them on each side and angling them upwards, so that it looks like the snowman is about to hug someone.
Stepping back to admire their work, Robin sighs, and congratulates her on a job well done.
"He does look great, doesn't he?" Regina laughs, and then Robin hums, tells her not quite, and runs to the straw umbrella under which their chairs and bags are currently resting. After that, she sees him run to the bar again, and loses sight of him for the next couple of minutes.
When he returns, he's carrying his wayfarer sunglasses and phone on one hand, and their bartender's Santa hat on the other, smiling as he kneels before their creation.
He hands her his phone to keep away from the sand while he finishes up their masterpiece, and then carefully slides the glasses over the snowman's eyes, taking a moment to adjust them before he places the Santa hat atop the head.
And then he piles up the leftover clumps of sand into a cone-like shape next to the snowman, taking the very last starfish and topping his tiny, strange-looking Christmas tree with it.
"There," he concludes, stepping back to admire his work. "Now it's done."
Regina loves it, tells him so, and then hands him back his phone when she realizes she's still holding it.
"Come on," he bids her, "let me take a photo of you with this year's snowman. You can send it to your Granny later."
And that, Regina thinks, is a wonderful idea.
Sunset finds them on a cliff, far removed from the resort area. There's a little bar less than a mile back, though, a well-known spot for the locals called The Tavern, and they've taken to adding a festive flair to their decor by wrapping multicolored Christmas lights around the palm trees leading to and from the establishment. It serves Regina and Robin well, has them cocooned in the soft reds and greens and yellows that glow from the festive trunks.
Her bikini is covered by her dress again, but to her utter delight, it doesn't weaken Robin's lingering stares or the brazen comments on how much he wants to get her naked. He's somewhat poetic about it, though, provocative rather than crass, wording everything in seductive remarks like You're exquisite or Would it be inappropriate if I told you I want to kiss every inch of you? and a more blunt, but no less arousing Fuck, I'm dying to touch you.
But they are here for a specific purpose, one he hasn't told her yet, so to kill two birds with one stone, Regina decides to ask, "Is that why you brought me here? To have your way with me?"
He moans at the idea, but shakes his head and clarifies, "No, that's not why I brought you here."
She says nothing, relishes the sight of him, all flushed and enthusiastic now as he explains, "I found this a few days ago, while trekking around with John and Killian. It's the best viewing spot on the island."
"Viewing spot for what?"
Instead of telling her, he urges her closer, sits her right in front of him, her feet dangling off the edge of the cliff, his legs encasing her as he softly whispers "You'll see," into her ear. "Just keep your eyes on the horizon."
It takes a few minutes, long enough for her to start to ask What are we waiting for? when something moves in the water.
It could be the waves, except the shadow that causes the movement isn't exactly going in the direction of the current, rather chops through it as it glides and sinks back into the depths.
"What was that?" she asks, and out of the corner of her eye she can see Robin smiling, his chin resting over her shoulder.
"Keep watching," he coaxes gently, and she does, waits for that shadow to pop up again, only when it does, it's flanked by two similar companions, and they're just a little bit closer to the shore now, enough for her to actually see their shapes.
Regina gasps.
"Robin, are those... whales?" she asks, and she needn't, really, because they are. Her smile grows exponentially, a new, overwhelming bout of joy coursing through her when one of the majestic humpbacks jumps out of the surface, the dying sunlight glowing orange over the white stretch of its belly and tail before it splashes gracefully back into the water.
It's the single most incredible thing she's ever seen.
Another whale jumps, and then another smaller one, a calf following its mother, and Regina gasps and points, her giddiness showing as she tells him "Did you see that?! Did you see the baby?!"
Robin joins her in her excitement, and together they marvel at the animals, catching them as they surface and shoot air and water through their blowholes. They never stop making their progression across the span of the beach, one after the other, until the pod disappears altogether, swimming past Regina's line of sight.
She turns to Robin then, finds him watching her with this warmth, this... affection in his eyes as he tells her, "Merry Christmas, Regina."
They have a few hours yet until midnight, but she appreciates the sentiment, smiles and returns the greeting before she sinks back fully into his arms, humming appreciatively when he lands a kiss on her neck.
Darkness descends over Maui, its mountains becoming giant masses of solid black against the night sky. It's a new moon tonight, making thousands of stars the main attraction for the evening.
Regina takes it all in; the distant sound of the waves crashing on the shore lulls her as Robin keeps her safe and cozy in his embrace, turning eventually to kiss her cheek before he rests his chin back on her shoulder and stares ahead.
He's rented a car to bring them here, meaning they can get back anytime, and Regina is in no rush, lets herself savor the moment. Robin's strong arms and the warm breeze stoke that fire inside her, and she lets it, feels it coursing through her, getting hotter and hotter until she's turning her head to the side and kissing him.
Her tongue swirls against his, lips sucking at his lower one, and he moans instantly, moves his hand to cradle her cheek and kisses back harder, better, his tongue playing with hers a little more aggressively, teeth sinking into her bottom lip and pulling gently.
Regina lets out a needy whimper, and veers her mouth away from his to lick a trail up his jaw, until she reaches his ear and whispers, "Let's get out of here."
He groans, his forehead falling onto her shoulder as he inhales sharply, exhales slowly, and seeks confirmation with a raspy "Are you sure?"
But even as he asks, he's kissing up her neck, laving his tongue over her skin and sucking gently. Her Yes comes out as more of a gasp than the reassurance she'd meant it to be, but it works, has him jumping into action and walking them both back to the car.
They make a pitstop at a drugstore on the way back, and Regina waits for Robin in the car, breathing deep and assessing what she's about to do.
This is so unlike her.
She's never been one for casual sex, never had that need to scratch the itch rather than connect fully with someone else.
But then, this isn't just about scratching an itch, is it? She's already connected to Robin, feels attached to him in a way she hasn't been attached to anyone in a long time, not even to Daniel. There's an element of unpredictability, of mystery, that just draws her in deeper, makes her want Robin more and more as seconds tick by. In fact, she even misses him right now, longs for his presence and the warm touch of his hand on her thigh for the few minutes it takes him to buy the condoms. She's glad when he returns and throws a little plastic bag in the backseat, and then he pauses to look at her.
"What?" she asks, and he shakes his head incredulously.
"I don't usually do things like this. It's all very... new."
She breathes out a laugh, nods her head.
"I just don't want you to think that I'm..." he starts, trailing off when he can't find the words and simply leans in to kiss her, holding her face in his hands as he whispers a hesitant "I-"
"I know," she assures him, her hands finding his wrists. "It's new to me, too."
He sighs in relief, nods his head against hers, the tip of his nose brushing her own as she adds, "But I want it."
"Fuck, I want you, too," he rasps. "You've no idea."
Regina parts from him then, and puts on what she hopes is a seductive grin as she looks up from under her lashes at him and says, "Then get us back to the hotel... and have me."
..::::..
She's bloody fantastic.
Hungry and passionate and hot as she kisses and kisses him, her tongue eagerly playing with his, her hands busying themselves with unbuttoning his shirt, until she grows frustrated and tugs harshly, buttons raining down on the floor of her room.
He's got her against the door, leg hiked over his waist, and once his shirt is off he presses his front to hers, feeling her nipples hard over the fabric that covers her and wanting nothing more than to lick and suck at them.
Her breath hitches when he presses his lips just under her ear, then kisses down under her jaw, sucking where her pulse beats progressively faster and licking the sensitive spot before continuing on his way, down her neck until his lips hit the halter strap of her dress.
"Good?" he rasps, feeling her nod and gasp against his shoulder. His hands travel down her sides and over that leg she still has wrapped around his waist, letting it drop so he can sink lower and grab the hem of her dress, dragging it up with him as he rises again, uncovering all that tempting, tanned skin.
His fingers flutter over the softness of her, trailing up her thighs, over her ribcage and to the tops of her breasts after the dress falls off her and onto the floor, leaving her in nothing but the white stretchy fabric of that goddamn bikini that's been taunting him all day.
He wants to pause, wants to take in the image of her like that, but she's eager, gasping as she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him close again, kissing him wildly.
She tastes like Christmas, somehow, sweet and minty and perfect, her lips sucking at his lower one, teeth sinking there to tease him, until his hands find her arse and squeeze, bringing her flush against him so she can feel what she's doing to him, that half-mast erection he's already sporting pressing just where she's warm and willing.
"Bed," she rasps. "Now."
And who is he to complain?
She walks him back to the foot of it, discarding her top as she goes, exposing her breasts to him just as she pushes him onto the cool, cushy comforter.
Robin can say with absolute certainty he's never removed his clothes faster.
His shirt is already off, has been since she ripped it open to run her hands over his abs and chest, and his trunks are next to go, knees bending to help her get rid of them as she tugs at the green fabric.
"Wait," he says as she begins to climb over him, sitting up on the edge of the bed and pulling at those pesky metal hoops on her hips, dragging that bathing suit down her legs until she's naked and gorgeous standing between his parted legs. They're not doing anything right now, he's just holding her, both hands settled on her waist as he admires her, and this, right now, is the single most erotic thing he's experienced in who knows how long.
"Fucking glorious," he whispers, loving the little hum she gives him in return, moving immediately to straddle him. He changes the tables on them, though, loops his arms around her tighter and flips their positions, landing her rather gracelessly on the bed while he falls to his knees on the floor, licking his lips in anticipation.
"You owe me a taste," he reminds her, grinning when her answering moan is throaty and low, her arms stretching on the bed as her eyes close.
Her legs are open, Robin settled between them, his left hand coasting up her thigh while the right stays down, slowly pumping his cock to the absolutely amazing view before him.
He continues caressing her thigh, inching ever closer to where she's searching for attention, her hips undulating languidly under his touch as her breath quickens, then catches when his thumb finally presses on her clit. Robin groans at the feel of her, circles his thumb over the sensitive bud over and over, reveling in the way she reacts, the way she arches her back the slightest bit, lets out these little gasps and then bites her lower lip to keep from moaning too loudly.
Well, he better fix that.
His tongue follows the path of his thumb, settling over her clit and flicking at it wetly, moving just a bit faster when her response is a squeaky Ohhh that makes him smile. He changes his tactic then, closes his lips around the spot and sucks hard, eliciting an incoherent whimper from her that goes straight to his cock.
She's wet now, getting wetter the more he licks at her, the more he sucks at her, his tongue eagerly lapping up the taste of her arousal, moving down to venture inside her and tease and tease, one finger joining the action, pushing into the tight heat of her and hooking up in search for that special spot that will unravel her.
He finds it in short order, smiles smugly as she trembles and Aahhhs and Mmms and licks at her lips. But she hasn't completely surrendered just yet, is still holding herself back, as if trying to hold out a little longer for something.
"Just feel it, gorgeous, feel my tongue on you, my fingers inside you." He adds a second finger, flattens his tongue over her clit, flicks at it again, again, and hears her whimper something he can't quite catch.
"What is it, lovely? What do you want?" he asks, not even the least bit ashamed at how guttural and needy his voice sounds.
She's gasping, trying to catch her breath before she can speak, and he pulls his fingers out of her, caresses her thigh to help her relax enough to talk.
"I'm... I... Never mind, it's nothing, just keep going, I— mmm, I love what you're doing, let's just..."
"Tell me what you like, Regina," he urges, because yes, she does seem to like what he's doing to her, but there's clearly something else there, and he wants her to enjoy this thoroughly. "I want to make you come, I want to make you scream, tell me what you want."
His words make her groan, make her hips jerk involuntarily, but they also seem to do the trick, make her breathe out a quick "Nightstand."
He doesn't understand at first, looks to the empty little table next to her bed and frowns, but moves toward it anyway, opening the drawer and finding a little black fabric bag inside, the item it contains falling onto his hand when he tugs the knot loose.
It's hot pink and made of silicone, the shape of it is one that reminds Robin of an ear thermometer, the spout a little shorter, a little wider, and there's a curve to the shaft that makes it smoother, more comfortable to hold and fiddle with the three little buttons located in a row towards the base.
And then he understands exactly what it is, and the low Fuck he lets out has her looking at him expectantly, looking shy as he makes her way back to her.
"Is this what you want?" he asks, but doesn't let her answer, kisses her instead and feels her moan at the taste of herself on his mouth before they part, the tip of his tongue taking one teasing lick at her upper lip. "Do you want me to use this on you, Regina?"
"I... if you don't mind," she answers bashfully, then shakes her head as if to wave it all off and adds, "Actually, no, you know what? We don't have to, it was a stupid idea, we can just—"
He cuts her off with another kiss, free hand moving down to tease her clit as his tongue plunges into her mouth and explores her, wet and warm and eager.
"Do you have any idea..." he says, pausing his question to kiss her again, and again, and again, her lips, her neck, her collarbone. "...how hot that is?"
"I don't, actually," she says, some of that bite he's come to worship making its way back into her tone. But it's not enough, not quite, because she's still hesitant, insists, "But ignore me. I wasn't thinking when I... please let's just forget I said anything."
He stops then, takes his hand out from between her legs and sits next to her on the bed, wet fingers trailing over her thigh as he looks into her eyes. His other hand, which has now let the vibrator fall on the bed, rises to cradle her cheek, thumb rubbing over soft skin as he tells her, "There's no reason to be shy about your pleasure, Regina. I want to give it to you. God, how I want to. Please, please let me."
She looks at him, still undecided, and Robin moves to grab the vibrator again, inspecting it and feeling the smooth texture. "Let me watch you come, Regina," he bids her when he puts it back down. "I want you to think of me every time you make yourself come after tonight. I want you to use this, when you're back home in Boston, and think back to how hard I made you scream when I used it on you."
That has her closing her eyes, swallowing and grasping his wrist. It takes her a few seconds, but finally those tempting pools of brown open, and then she jumps him, kisses him fervently and sucks hard at his lower lip, sloppy and wet, her hands roaming over his shoulder blades, nails sinking into him in a delicious scrape that has him moaning into her mouth.
"Okay," she tells him when they part, breathless but certain, with a hint of raspiness to her voice that has his cock hardening further as he watches her.
"Yeah?" he asks, just to make sure, his hand already moving to her breast, kneading and running this thumb over her nipple.
"Yes," she confirms, "make me come, Robin," and fuck, He'll do whatever she bloody wants just as long as she keeps talking to him like that.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," he teases, sinking back to his place between her legs, his tongue seeking out the wetness of her sex and laving over her clit, her lips, pushing in and swirling there before he pushes back out and turns on the vibrator.
It's surprisingly quiet, almost to the point where he'd doubt it was even on if it wasn't for the fact that Regina all but shouts when he presses it to her clit, a loud Fuck! that has his own expletives spilling out of him before he tells her "Yes, that's it, let go, beautiful, show me how you like it."
Her hand moves down then, finds the buttons on the toy and gives them a few clicks, finding the speed and vibration pattern she likes best, an intense rhythm that rises and falls, rises and falls in never-ending waves that have her circling her hips into it. Moans tumble out of her the longer they keep the vibrator there, and then her hand drops to the mattress, leaving him in control of her pleasure.
He circles the little device over her clit, presses it more firmly before he moves it slightly down, then back up to her clit again, where the vibrations create these sucking, wet little sounds that have Regina moaning, gasping, rolling her hips against it a little faster. She's trembling all over, like she's feeling it reverberate through her whole body, and Robin has never seen anything sexier.
"You're a fucking goddess," he tells her, withdrawing the vibe for a moment so he can suck at her clit, lick at her, tasting the wetness that has grown exponentially in the last few seconds. She's breathing shallowly, rasping out a delirious More that he's only too happy to comply with, pressing the toy back where she wants it and watching as she bucks her hips and Aaahhs.
The next time he moves it away from her, he sucks harder, licks faster, flicks his tongue again and again over her clit while two of his fingers push and pump into her, hitting that spot inside her at a quick pace.
"Oh, fuck! Right there!" she exclaims, her hand pulling at his hair, holding him in place as she moves faster, riding his fingers and mouth as she seeks her orgasm.
And then her hand moves up, and he catches her pinching a nipple between her fingers, rolling it tightly and moaning as Robin eats her more, eats her better, tasting and fucking her with his fingers, his mouth wet from her arousal and his tongue coated in the taste of her as she writhes.
He pulls away from her when her breathing hitches and stutters, keeps her there on that edge with his fingers while he grasps the vibrator again, and then moves his fingers out of her and presses the toy to her clit, watching as she screams at the change in stimulation.
"Good?" he asks needlessly, pressing it closer, hearing those wet little sounds again and pumping his cock with his other hand as he lets the sight of her build up his erection. He's aching for her, needy and ready to feel the liquid heat of her, but fuck, if having her writhing into the vibrator like this isn't the most beautiful fucking sight.
Her dusty pink nipples are hard and irresistible, so he follows their call, hovering over her and making sure he keeps the vibrator held where she wants it before he dips his head and takes one stiff peak into his mouth, sucking and swirling his tongue over it as the toy buzzes away between her legs. Her hand flies to his hair, pulls at it and scratches gently over his scalp, tightening her grip when he sucks a little harder. He switches to the other nipple, treating it to the same attentions, licking first, getting it nice and wet before he sucks.
"Bloody gorgeous," he mutters into the valley between her breasts, kissing a line up to her jaw before he seeks out her lips, his tongue teasing and playing with hers for a few seconds before he adds, "Cannot fucking wait to feel you come on my cock."
And that's it, that's all it takes. She screams. Lets out a loud, throaty Oh, fuck, Robin, yes! as orgasm hits. It's like a tidal wave, Robin can feel the tremors that travel through her body, from her sex to her chest and back down. She arches her back, and he can feel the way her muscles shake and relax under him as he moves to suck at her nipples again, keeping the vibrator where it is as Regina rides the resulting bliss, until she's whimpering and pushing at his hand.
He removes the device, turns it off and dumps it somewhere on the bed, then brings his hand back between her legs, rubbing slow circles over her clit in an effort to prolong the pleasure with a less acute stimulation. She sighs, and all but melts onto the bed, muttering something he doesn't hear until she swallows and tells him again, "Come here."
Robin obeys, abandoning her nipples in favor of her lips, kissing her long and slow and deep as she settles back down, reveling in the way she runs her hands over his arms, warm and soft as they explore him and slowly drop to his arse, squeezing there and making him chuckle into their kiss.
But then one of her hands is on his cock, pumping him lazily but with just the perfect amount of pressure, and the laughter is gone, replaced by a guttural moan he can't help but let out, his kiss becoming hungrier, sloppier.
"Get... get..." she's out of breath still, can barely manage out to whisper, "condom, get... I want you inside me."
Robin moans her name, kisses down her neck and sucks at her pulse point, feels her squirm pleasantly under him before he moves back to her mouth, licking at her upper lip before he sucks at it, sinks his teeth in it and pulls gently.
"Mmm," he hears her say, the sound decorated by more of those little gasps he's quickly becoming addicted to.
She watches him as he puts the condom on, her eyes half-lidded and dark, her body bathed in the warm glow from the one lamp they've left on in the whole room. Fuck, he wants her.
And then it's like she's caught a second wind, and flips their positions on the bed, so that he's lying on his back, his head falling onto the pillows, her tits taking up his line of sight as she straddles him.
Her hips roll back and forth, back and forth, spreading her wetness over his latex-covered cock, until on the fourth or fifth pass, she hovers, positioning him with her hand and sinking down onto him in one smooth stroke, and fuck, she's so warm, and soft, and goddamn perfect, her cunt tight and wet and fucking unbelievable as she starts to move.
"God, Regina," he groans, moving his hands to her hips and guiding her movements, setting up a firm rhythm that has him slipping almost all the way out before she slams back down on him. "You feel so fucking perfect."
"You, too," she gasps. "God, you, too. You're so hard, I— Mmm," she's moving faster, rolling harder onto him, taking him in deeper, and fuck, he's hitting that spot inside her, he can feel it, can see it in the way her moans turn to whimpers, and he could come right now, he really could. In fact, he has to slow her down before he bursts, has to wait for her to climb back up with him before he shoots his load and ruins his chances of having her come on his cock.
So he sits up, his back hitting the wall behind him, and maneuvers her hips into a lazier pace, brings one of his hands up to cup the side of her face, their lips meeting in a soft, deep kiss that sets his every cell on fire. It hits him then, that it feels this good because there's more here, more than a one-night hookup with a beautiful woman.
What's more shocking, he wants it. He wants more. With her.
"You're so beautiful," he tells her when she pulls away, "so tight and wet and— fuuuuck."
She's sucking at his neck, cutting off his words and exchanging them for loud groans as she rakes her teeth over the sensitive spot on his shoulder, then licks to soothe the deliciously sharp sting, grabbing one of his hands and bringing it down to her clit.
"Touch me," she whispers in his ear, and it's a bit of an awkward angle, with their torsos being pressed together like this, but he sure as fuck isn't about to deny her. His fingers settle where she wants them, rub fast little circles on her clit as best he can, and it's enough, he thinks, because her eyes close, her head lolling back, exposing her neck to his waiting tongue.
He sucks at the skin, gives her little nibbles much like she did him, his tongue trailing a wet path up her neck and jaw so he can suck at her pulse point again, and there's that pleasant little squirm once more, her whole body trembling with the pleasure of it, and he can feel the same tingling sensation slithering through him when she starts to move faster again, matching the rhythm of his fingers on her clit with the quick cadence of her hips.
It's too much and not enough all at once. Robin wants to feel her, tease her, touch her, kiss her, do everything and more, feels his balls tightening on her every thrust, his cock hard and wrapped in the tight wetness of her, warmth flooding him in fast spurts and carrying him higher and higher. And then she shifts just a little to the left, and screams with the change in angle, his cock sinking deeper, hitting that spot more firmly.
Her whole body stiffens for a moment, and then she bites at his jaw and comes a second time, moaning and gasping as she rides him hard and fast to keep the pleasure right there on the surface, until he, too, falls over the edge, joining her whimpers with gravelly groans of his own as his hand falls from her clit, his cock buried deep inside her as he comes vigorously.
For a moment, neither moves. They stay there, his arms around her, holding her close, her back rising and falling as she tries to catch her breath, her warm exhales coating his shoulder just as his shake some of her curls. It's intoxicating in the best of ways.
He revels in the feel of her, in the way she sounds as she climbs down from her high, until she's boneless and gorgeous, falling onto the bed beside him and stretching in a sleepy haze while he rises and disposes of the condom, keeping his eyes on her as long as he can.
God, she's gorgeous.
And then he realizes he's not sure what's to become of them, whether she'll want him to leave now that they're done, or if she'll allow him to stay and bask in the afterglow with her.
"Come back to bed, Robin," she tells him, lifting the comforter from under her and tucking her legs inside, smiling at him as if she knows exactly what he's thinking. He grins, and crawls in with her, his arm acting as her pillow, hand rubbing over her back as she snuggles close and throws her arm over his stomach.
"Happy Christmas to us," he says into her hair, and feels the soft rumble of her laugh.
"I'll say," she confirms. "Not quite the gift I was expecting this year, but... definitely not bad."
"No complaint letters to Santa then," Robin teases, and she kisses his chest in response, tells him Not at all.
He doesn't know how much time they spend like that, cuddled together in comfortable silence, with her fingers drawing random patterns over his chest, his nose buried in her hair and his eyes closed. He feels her press her lips over his skin every few minutes, like she can't help but kiss him, almost purring like a cat when he does the same along her hairline, her brow, the tip of her nose in the few occasions she looks up at him...
They doze together, half-waking to settle more comfortably on the bed until sleep finally pulls them under, his body spooning hers as they lie on their sides, his arm wrapped around her, hand gently cupping her breast. His nose is buried in the back of her neck, her curls tickling his face as he whispers, "Good night, Regina."
"Good night, Robin."
When the early morning sun streaks its faint light through the window, Robin feels the soft caress of Regina's fingers as they trail over his arm, her breath deep and calm.
"Mmm," he greets. "Good morning."
"Well, look who's finally woken up," she teases in a whisper, turning in his arms.
"I apologize, but... that was the best... sleep I've had in a very long time," Robin teases back, making her laugh softly and lean in to buss his lips before they stretch like cats and snuggle back as they did last night. His arm is back around her and pillowing her head, her hand back to roaming his torso.
"How would you like to stay in bed all day, and order room service for breakfast?" he asks then, sighing when her hand runs over his abs.
"Your friends will miss you," she argues, and he scoffs.
"They can fend for themselves," Robin insists, giving her a little squeeze as he adds, "I've got all I want right here."
She hums at that, settles more comfortably against him, and takes a few deep breaths in the silence of morning. Robin listens to her slow exhales, moves his hand from her back to her hair, playing with the curled ends as he urges, "What is it? Talk to me, darling."
"I don't want this to end," she whispers, so low he barely hears it, and the words puts his own melancholic thoughts into display.
"We leave tomorrow," he admits, and Regina tells him so does she, then sighs deeply, cuddling impossibly closer, and as if by magic, an idea occurs to him.
"Ring in the new year with me," he pleads. "Come to New York, stay with me that weekend, and then on Sunday night we'll welcome 2018 together."
That gives her pause, and she pulls back to look at him curiously. "Is that wise?"
"I have no idea," he says with a smile. "We might end up hating each other once we're away from all this. But all I know for certain right now, is that I don't want last night to be our last night together. Do you?"
She takes a deep breath, then closes her eyes and leans in for a kiss, slow and sweet, her body heat seeping into him.
"No," she says at last, "I don't want it to be our last."
"Then come visit me," he offers again, unashamed of the begging quality in his tone. "We'll drink hot chocolate, and build a proper snowman in Central Park, I'll even take you ice skating. I'll fall on my arse ten times in as many minutes, mind you, but I'll do it."
She chuckles at that, but says nothing else, looking at him as if trying to make up her mind still.
"Please, Regina," he insists, "give us a chance."
Her answer is a smile, and the spark of a light in her eyes as she nods and tells him "Alright, I'll be there."
"Yeah?"
"Yes, I'd love to spend New Year's Eve with you," she assures him, and he's kissing her then, little pecks all over her face that make her laugh and kiss back, a playful exchange that grows and builds, until a half hour later, he's burying his cock inside her once more, this time in a slow, deep rhythm that feels unbelievable, her him groaning her name and kissing her hard.
And as she comes for him and cries out her pleasure, her body bathed in the sunlight of a bright Hawaiian day, Robin cannot think of a better Christmas morning.
Mele kalikimaka, indeed.