Once again, this chapter is rated M for adult themes. Please keep the reviews coming in – good or bad!
CHAPTER FOUR: Dirty thief.
What was the Queen playing at?
That was all the archer could ask himself as he returned to her bedchambers, wearing nothing but a nightgown that had been hung up on the bathroom door. The feel of the rich material against his skin wasn't refreshing. It was insulting. He lived in the forest by choice, not by bad luck. Luxury wasn't needed nor necessary.
Robin returned to the magnificent stone cold chamber to be met with the Queen's back.
She could hear his footsteps, the breeze from the open balcony causing her prepossessing night gown to sway loosely around her poised body as she looked out to the darkness of her kingdom at night.
A long drawn out sniff and Regina was rolling her eyes. That vulgar stench of forest still seemed to irritate her nostrils. How long had he been living in the forest?
He remained silent. He was there against his own will. His son more than likely wondering where his father had gotten to. The only way out was to obey this vicious wanton. And then, /then/ he could take back what was his. /Then/ he could return to his son and never set foot in the Evil Queen's presence again.
"That is a foolish excuse for a wash…"
Regina was quick to snarkily comment as soon as she heard his footsteps. Bold she was. Her rude tone startled him only slightly. Did she have eyes at the back of her head? Now that wouldn't surprise him.
"Forgive me, your majesty but I believe I did as you asked."
The outlaw pointed out in just as rude a tone. He stood still, watching her bravely. With no fear in his eyes. But with the utmost courage. If he could face the Evil Queen, he could face anyone.
"I suppose you did."
Turning away from the balcony, she tilted her head back and downed the remaining drop of crimson liquid in her golden goblet. Pursing her lips at the sourness of the beverage, the goblet was placed down on her dressing table next to his bright, noble heart. Thrown down in disgust.
Oh but when she turned around.
That dripping wet golden hair that matched the finest diamonds in her tiara collection, she was met with. This was going to be easier on her behalf. His ruggedly good looks only spurred her insane instincts, fire fuelling throughout every inch of her body. Even she admitted there was an attraction there. A pull neither of them could explain. For a thief, a /peasant/, he had gallant good looks that only came with royalty or nobility.
"I command you to make me forget. Make me forget my Kingdoms hatred for me. To make me feel like a /wanted/, /loved/ woman…"
Now that was not what he had been expecting.
Because really, in all the honesty and purity in the world, Regina Mills had only ever wanted to be loved.
Regina, in all her regal allure, was merely a tortured soul. Born into the wrong family, at the wrong time. Pushed into becoming Queen and falling into the trap of darkness. She /still/ wanted to be loved, but believed it to be impossible. The darkness had consumed her. Regina didn't know /how/ to love. It had been centuries since she had experienced love of any sort. Her father, Henry, loved her more than life itself, but the Queen, stuck in her rut of misery, couldn't see it.
All she saw and felt was hatred.
She was trapped.
Her heart cold.
Locksley couldn't refuse or run, even if he wanted to.
Feet stepped closer until he was stood directly in front of the Queen with no space between them. That sorrow in her eyes was his mission. He craved nothing more than to make her see something new and exhilarating, even just for a second.
"I will never love again. And no one will ever love me." The young Regina admitted to her father, staring at Daniel's golden ring, bringing it to her nude rosy lips and holding it there, the only piece of him left in her daunting life. In the blink of an eye, all her hopes and dreams had gone. Disappeared as easily as the sundown. "Now, darling, of course you will. You are to marry the King. He will love you. He is a kind man. I'm sure you will learn to love him." Prince Henry reassured his precious daughter who he so longed to protect but the cost was great. Even he knew the wrath of Cora was a dangerous risk.
The outlaw gazed across, oceanic brims meeting hazel orbs. Lips surrounded in stubble parted to breathe out in anticipation.
"There is no need to command. I will love you /willingly/."
A perfectly shaped eyebrow shot up, all power in her fierce demeanour faltering. Who in all the land could love her willingly? Not the love she craved. The physical bond that would make her feel loved for a few minutes in her measly life. That's all the archer meant. Because in his eyes, who could love someone so cruel and deranged? This 'Queen', murdered innocent lives on a daily basis. Laughed at her wronging's and found pleasure in torturing people who did not deserve such brutal pain. If this was the way to get back to his son, he was /willingly/ to obey.
Before she could respond, a callous hand raised along with the other, hands drifting down her slim physique until they found her hips which he gripped. Dipping lower and they found the soft fabric of her floating night gown, slowly and intriguingly lifting the material up her body and over her head, leaving the Queen bare to him except her silken panties moulded around her most precious area.
Regina's lips curved into that devious smirk once more. Rosy lips parting in the way Robin's had, he hadn't touched her skin and already she was experiencing such fire that she needed relief and she needed it now.
Pools of blue roamed her body, the mere sight of her voluptuous breasts causing him to let out a groan of longed for pleasure. The Queen was a very beautiful woman. Those beaded nipples sending shoots of desire to his tightening bath robe, his desire evident in front of her. Unable to resist taking advantage of this very strange situation, his hand covered her breasts, thumb flicking over the sensitive buds until she was fully erected in his hand and sighing out in dire need for more.
"Dirty thief."
She spat out in a mixture of animalistic seduction and frustration that he hadn't already pushed her against the wall and taken her so roughly that she would wake up deliciously sore the next morning.
She wasn't holding back.
Black manicured finger nails clawed at the tie around his robe, pulling it away from his body in such a rush that she was fighting her own inner demons not to push him to the floor.
Hands opened the robe, pushing it down his arms and what a sight she was greeted with.
"What a finely sculptured man…"
The Queen purred so deliciously it took Robin all the strength he had not to groan out again. That voice. The deep gruff, seductive undertone of regalness and authority.
The view of softly tanned skin. A broad chest, dipped in muscles and abs in perfect proximity. She could feel her tongue tracing her lower lip, wanting to drink him. Orbs cast downwards to his growing erection. Now that was a delightful surprise. The things she could do with him. It was certainly going to be a lifetime of pleasure and torture. Her eyes travelled, lifted, from his twitching member, admiring, tainting every inch of his skin with her devilish brims of cruelty.
That was when she saw it.
The lion tattoo.
"He's your soulmate. The man with the lion tattoo." The blonde fairy pointed out towards the man with her back to them in the tavern, clutching his mug out for a refill of beer. Her soulmate was a drunk in a peasant bar? Nonetheless, everyone knew that pixie dust never lied. Was this the man who could make life come to life again? Who could ease her pain and make her feel that emotion long lost to her? "Go get him." Tinkerbell urged, sensing the new Queen's anguish and hesitation. Sensing her fear. Watching the fairy leave her alone, she turned back towards the door. A shaking hand reached out, clutching the knob and very slowly turning it until the door opened. Gusts of wind blew her rich, cream gown. Long, raven locks swung over her shoulders as she stared at the back of the man's head, memorising his golden hair, his arm, but most of all, his tattoo. Could she really, truly open her heat again though? Opening up meant losing everything all over again. To love and then to lose the one you love was the worst pain imaginable. She refused to do it. With one last stare, orbs fearfully casting around the tavern, features creasing in torment, she turned and ran. Ran away from her last chance of happiness. Of living the life she truly deserved.
Her soulmate was busy tracing the pale skin of her neck with his mouth, his arm, the one with the lion tattoo, was buried within the confines of her silk hair, caressing her scalp with his rough fingers whilst his mouth busied itself sucking and licking that royal skin he was finding himself yearning for as the seconds passed. Why on earth he was lusting after a woman who was holding him captive he would never know. All he knew was that his body, soul, and heart that beat on her dressing table wanted her.
Head tilted back, orbs closing for a brief moment as she got lost in the pleasure across her pulse. She moaned, sighed, breathed for more. Those lips, that beard. She was putty in his hands and how she wanted so much more. Their bodies called out to each other, souls begging to be reunited but she couldn't. Her vengeance was too great a deal.
Staggering backwards, out of the outlaws reach, her hand reached behind her and grabbed his heart. In a single action, his heart was back inside his chest, thumping away and easing back into the confines of his chest that had been at a loss without it.
"Leave. Now. Get out before I change my mind."