Con Fuoco

"They're going to call my flight any minute," Regina gasps, trailing off into a whine as Robin thrusts into her again, one hand flattening her wrist to the door, the other looped around her waist to cushion her against the door.

He moves his hand for a moment to hitch her leg higher around his hips, grunting with the effort as he quickens his pace, determined not to leave her all hot and bothered and unsatisfied on her seven-hour flight to New York.

Her hands twist into his hair, harsh moans tumbling from her lips, and Robin bends forward for a kiss, inhaling sharply against her lips as she orders, "More, Robin."

He raps his hips harder against her, fingers sliding from her wrist to tangle in her gorgeous hair, just in time to cushion her as she drops her head back against the wall with a moan. She feels amazing around him, warm and wet and tight, and God how he's missed this, missed her. He knows her so well by now, knows her body and the sounds spilling from her lips, knows how close she is as her melted warm eyes meet his.

She smiles at him, wide enough that it spreads across her whole face, to her eyes, strained with muscles taut from pleasure. Affection for her nearly chokes him, longing, sparking up his spine with the bursts of pleasure; she has been away for four weeks, and is going away for two more.

He lets his hand wander from around her back to her belly, under her cotton T-shirt to cup her breast, slide his thumb back and forth over her nipple through the lace of her bra.

"Just–Just like that," she gasps, her voice reedy, and he grunts as her nails score over his neck. She comes at last with a groan muffled in his shoulder, and he has to remind himself even with the glorious feeling of her around him, her relieved, panting breaths in his ear, that he needs to be quiet as he thrusts into her desperately and comes with a groan of her name.

She pets his hair as he comes down from his high, her nails against his scalp sending echoes of shivers through his limbs as he drops his forehead to her shoulder.

The prim, pre-recorded voice reaches his ears just as his breathing evens out. "Flight number 9836 with service from London Heathrow to New York will begin boarding in ten minutes."

Robin lifts his head, sighing in disappointment as Regina lets her leg drop back to the ground and he pulls out of her.

He clings anyway, fingers burrowing into her hair as she smiles almost sleepily at him. "I have to get through security."

"There wasn't a long line," he argues, palms rubbing up and down her arms as she straightens her clothes and smoothes out her hair.

"Robin," she sighs fondly.

"Go tomorrow," he begs, dropping his forehead to hers and tilting his lips for a kiss.

"You know I can't," she protests against his lips.

"I miss you," he sighs, finally relenting and fixing his own clothes, retrieving his jacket from the floor of the family restroom. Which, he thinks absently, maybe he should wash that before he wears it again.

"I know," Regina bites her lip, and he reaches out to wipe away a smudge of red lipstick from the side of her mouth, "I miss you too. But I'll be back in two weeks, and then I don't have another out-of-town gig for three months."

"You better not," he grumbles, failing at any semblance of control over his quickly deteriorating mood. He loves that she's successful, that she gets to travel the world to perform, he does. It's just–hard, missing her.

"It'll go by quickly," she promises, smoothing a thumb over his disagreeing, frowning lips. She brushes the hair off his forehead with a fond smile for his continued grouchiness. "Thank you for spending my two-hour layover with me."

He chuckles at last at that. "I think it was well worth my time."

She kisses him one last time, lets them breathe each other in and store it up. They'll kiss again, at the edge of the line for security, but this is the last one they have alone, just them. "Good."

He drops his forehead back to hers, just for one minute more.

"Flight number 9836 with service from London Heathrow to New York will begin boarding in five minutes."

Robin groans. "Fine. You know, I really hate that woman's voice."

Regina giggles as she retrieves her violin case and purse from the floor and twists the lock on the door. She was in a poor mood when he first saw her today, has had a bad couple of weeks on the Continent with an apparently foul-tempered conductor, and even if it's putting him in a foul mood of his own to have to say goodbye to her again, this was definitely worth it.