Sooorry for the wait - sorry to some members of the Squad for my Sneak Peek Snaps meant to torture them (Sarah I'm talking to you) - and enjoy, darlings! I'd loooove to hear your thoughts here, you'll see why. Oh, and, this chapter is for Ayla. Kinda of due after my last angst. Apologies, milady :3

When Night is almost done

When Night is almost done—
And Sunrise grows so near
That we can touch the Spaces—
It's time to smooth the Hair—

And get the Dimples ready—
And wonder we could care
For that old — faded Midnight—
That frightened — but an Hour—

"Gold? Your boss?"

"Yes," Regina answered, and continued to look down, so that he brought up a hand to lift her chin and meet her eyes.

"So, what's the matter?"

She narrowed her eyes – he sensed her worry was almost gone, nearly replaced by disappointment and – it was almost like she was willing to escape in a matter of seconds.

"You remember I was sick, on Sunday, and I couldn't go to the meeting?"

"And?"

"And now I'm here, two days later, and it looks like I've lied –"

"Regina," he lifted his hands to her bare forearms, rubbing slowly, in a move that was meant to soothe and calm her down. "Why does this make you so worried?"

"Because –" she stopped and closed her eyes, breathed in, then resumed talking. "Because I never know how he'll exploit my mistakes."

"Why do you think being sick is a mistake?"

"It isn't to me!" she backed down, squeezing his arm, desperate to make him see. He focused on her, drowning in her eyes, trying sincerely to read, to understand her. "But for him, he'll never believe me, he doesn't approve of excuses, of weakness –"

"You need to calm down, love," he stated firmly. "It's not a disaster, it's not the end of the world, it's just your boss – and if you want, we'll call your friend Mal, who will kick his ass for you, while I –" he leaned on to drop a kiss on her forehead, " – continue to dance with you, how does that sound?"

He was relieved to feel her body relax slightly, her breaths deepen, and she finally lifted up the corners of her mouth with a proper smile.

"No doubt she'd do it," she answered, and neared her mouth to his cheek, nuzzling her nose there. Behind them, August cleared his throat, and their little private bubble exploded – they turned towards him, slightly embarrassed.

"I think I'll go check on my partner – Robin, continue to behave, my friend. Lady Regina, it has been a pleasure to meet you," he said, bowing his head in a chivalrous move.

"Likewise," Regina smiled, and they watched him go, her head going to lie on Robin's shoulder.

"So, shall we go dance?" he proposed, and she had just nodded, when a voice came from behind.

"Miss Mills, what a surprise."

Robin felt Regina's body tense again, all of a sudden. They turned slowly, too slowly, her voice cold as ice when she spoke.

"Gold."

The light of the candles seemed to blur, and his arm went automatically up, wrapping Regina's small of the back protectively. He could feel her rhythmical breaths, in and out, her shoulders straightened in anticipation, as if she was waiting for some sort of imminent doom. He took in Gold's figure – he wasn't quite as he'd imagined him, but he had a certain… something, in his eyes. Something bad – something disturbing.

The man smiled, and motioned towards him, with a questioning look.

"Oh," Regina cleared her throat, "this is Robin Locksley, my… partner for tonight, – Robin, this is Duff Gold – you… already know of him," she said, fighting uneasiness.

"My pleasure, Mister Locksley," Gold said – Robin nodded, and extended a hand – he had a firm grip, and he shook it dutifully. Gold glanced at Regina, then pretended to ignore his almost rudeness. "Perhaps your gallant knight would consider letting me borrow you for a ball?"

Silence fell – an odd feeling, given that the violins had just started an arranged version of Schubert's Serenade. Robin exchanged a quick look with Regina – she looked resigned, as if she couldn't turn down the offer, and he slowly nodded. "As long as it's okay with you," he said, and she nodded imperceptibly. Gold turned towards the middle of the room, and Regina squeezed his arm before going. He felt what she was trying to tell him – wordlessly, she was saying Don't worry, I'll be fine.

He watched them go, worry and concern filling unpleasantly his heart.

§§§

"It's past midnight, Miss Mills," Gold started, offering her his hand. "Isn't a bit past your bedtime?"

"What do you want, Gold?" she got straight to the point, and he immediately chuckled, as if he was expecting her retort.

"Why I'm checking on your health, of course," he answered, unfazed by her mounting rage.

"Yes, of course," she lifted her eyebrows, as he pulled her closer, and it was just feeling… wrong. It was not the right body, the one she longed for.

"So, I take you're feeling better, aren't you?" he said with his usual creeping tone.

"You don't believe me," Regina answered, and saw a familiar flicker of mockery in his eyes.

"Oh, I thought we were past the point where we lie to each other, Miss Mills," he made her spin, and she caught a glimpse of Robin while she was rotating – he was standing near a table, his body tensing. His concerned frown made her heart flutter, and she wished for the dance to be over, and to be back in his arms… but then, she still owed an answer to Gold's statement.

"Well, it's a relief, knowing you're not here to spy on me," she told him, and he lifted the corners of his lips in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Spy on you?" he said, and she could almost say he was genuinely surprised, but she knew him too well no to think he had gladly took that opportunity of controlling her. "I'm not spying on anyone. I'm here – only because of business, Regina," he whispered her name, as he always did when he was starting to get angry. "I have a certain… deal for Miss Fisher, whom I know since many years, after I won a case for her account – I'm surely not here to spy on you," he ended, and her mind immediately raced to take in his words.

"I'm glad you didn't lower yourself at the point of stealing an invitation," she put up the widest smile she could manage, knowing it would piss him off more.

The music slowed down – every couple around them was bowing to each other, and she thanked her lucky star this had been a fast song. Gold lifted up her hand to kiss her knuckles, and his feathery touch was clearly meant to unsettle her, but she stood still.

"No, that would be a shameful action," he whispered, his voice dangerously low. "Do you know what the symbol of Venice is, Miss Mills?"

"A winged lion?"

Gold shook his head, with a half-smile. "Not the official one. The symbol which comes up to everyone's mind, when they hear Venice's name. A mask. We live in a world of secrets, Regina," he added. "Keep that in mind, nothing's quite the way it seems."

She felt she couldn't answer – he had often this effect on her, a loss of words, some sort of uneasiness that ran deep.

"Thank you for this lovely dance, Regina – take care," he said, and why was she feeling slightly menaced by his words?

"Yes," she answered, almost hypnotized, as he was going away, but then she felt other arms lace around her waist, and a more familiar and calming smell surrounded her.

"Are you alright?" Robin asked, and she turned her head to meet his eyes, bright blue and shining and concerned and caring.

"Perfectly fine," she lied, and saw she hadn't fooled him, but he just scrutinized her face for a moment before nodding. Then, he left her waist to take her hand, and his eyes made a resolution.

"Shall we do something very forbidden?" he asked playfully, and she titled her head with curiosity.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Ah, that's my queen, always up to something," he smiled, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "I was thinking of escaping from this room for a moment, and we could go… exploring the gardens," he said.

"Gardens… in Venice?"

"A rather unique garden, I'd dare to say," he kept his mysterious tone, and she looked at him – Gold had been forgotten, in front of this new enticing secret.

"I trust you won't get us caught," she mocked him, and made an offended expression. "Come on, let's go," she said then, and he smiled again, then gestured towards a hidden curtain.

"After you," he told her, and she obliged, throwing him a curious look. She moved aside the curtain – all was submerged in darkness, and she couldn't see anything of the new room she was entering. First thing she noticed, it was the smell – in the ball room, it had been of flowers, perfume and candles. But here, it was of marble and air and emptiness. She took his hand, and he squeezed it, leading her through the room, then another, all of them dark and void of people or life. It struck her, that one room could be so full of life and music, and the room next to it so… dead.

They walked through it, her heels producing a resounding echo on the floor, and finally they arrived. A door – basically, a glass panel, and outside, again the darkness. Robin pushed it gently, it creaked nonetheless. "Shh," whispered Regina, "weren't you supposed to be a thief? Sneaking through the night like a shadow?"

He turned his head to look at her, and answered, serious. "Only thing I've stolen in my life, it was a suitcase, and if this makes me a thief, then I'm a bloody lucky thief," he murmured, and she felt her lips curve upwards, and smiled against his mouth when he leaned on to peck a kiss there.

After he parted from her – never leaving her hand – she continued to smile, following him through the door. Outside, it wasn't so dark, the moon shining between grey clouds against the midnight blue sky. Velvet blue and silver, she thought, looking up. They walked a stony path which leaded to a high hedge – there was a narrow gap, she had to lift her gown and wait until he was on the other side to follow, because they couldn't go through and stay side by side.

It was a secret garden indeed – the hedges surrounding it, and inside, trees, palm trees, and flowerbeds – without any flower, because of the harsh weather of winter. A stone bench, which was precisely where Robin was leading her. It was located under a tree – quite close to the hedge gap that had let them enter. This smell of the garden, it was something Regina had never felt before. Rich, strong smell of sea, salt and humidity, laced with a scent of earth and air and pine – Robin gestured for her to sit, going to join her under the tree. She turned towards him, marvel in her eyes.

"How can there be a garden like this in Venice?"

He chuckled, and she saw a triumphant flash of his smile. "Contrarily to what everyone thinks, milady, Venice isn't properly built upon the waters – that would be impossible," he explained. "Almost every place you visit is a little island – there are one hundred and eighteen little islands, linked together by bridges, but it's completely possible to have a garden here. If you have a place to plant it, and that's the problem, because there's no room in this city… This palace is quite ancient, built by a noble family, and they used to open the gardens to the public, in the past," he mused.

"Rather generous from such a refined kind," Regina smiled, nearing herself to him with an imperceptible shift on the bench. He passed a hand behind her bare shoulders, bringing her close, and kept observing the garden. She snuggled against him, searching his warmth in the crispy air of that February night. It was so calm and peaceful that she could feel all of her worries… slip away, oh, so slowly, and she marveled at the sleepy numbness of her mind.

"Are you cold?" he whispered after a while, rubbing her forearm.

"A bit," she answered, leaning her head on his shoulder. She felt him drop a kiss on her hair, then let his lips linger there, and she moved slowly to lift her head – she met his eyes, shining of blue in the light of the moon, and closed hers, shivering pleasantly from the electricity of their lips finally meeting. It was soft, and sweet, and melancholic, as if she had entered in a dream. He kept savoring her taste, sucking gently her lip, his hand tangled between her hair, and she pressed more of herself against him, searching him all, her tongue setting a slow and deliciously agonizing pace. And then…

A noise.

Her eyes slammed open, his were still closed, the feathers of her mask waving slightly in the wind that had just started to blow.

The creak of the glass door – she froze, his eyes opened too, and they both turned their heads – looking at the hedge, trying to spy a glimmer of something through the leaves. Unfortunately, the leaves were thick enough to hide whoever was on the other side. But soon they could hear voices, whispering quite loudly: without a doubt, their intruders thought they were alone.

At first, the voices were quite muffled, but as soon as they approached, they could distinguish them.

"I said no, I don't see why you are insisting," it was a woman, and her voice felt familiar to Regina – at her side, Robin had stiffened all of a sudden, that relax from moments earlier completely gone, and he threw a glance at her. Ingrid, he mouthed silently.

"Think about it," a man answered. "We could help you. Only thing you have to do, is signing this paper."

Regina was breathing so slowly that she couldn't even be sure to be breathing at all. They stood as still as possible, and the voices neared, dangerously close to them.

"This isn't legal," Ingrid hissed. "This is dangerous, and if we get caught, I'll be the one found guilty!"

"You won't," the man said firmly. "May I remind you this is your chance to get what you want?"

They missed Ingrid's answer – it had been a mere whisper, lost in the wind, and Regina tensed when Robin sneaked up his hand to take hers, then relaxed to the contact. He squeezed it, in a gentle reminder he was there, and to be silent, and that it was going to be alright.

The man spoke again. "Yes, that's exactly what Gold needs from you," he said. Regina snapped her head towards the hedge, desperately trying to see who the man was. Gold? Involved in an illegal deal? With Ingrid?

Ingrid whispered again, and this time she caught the ending. "…from my family."

"This isn't a blackmail, don't be stupid," the man said. "Let's say you are in the position to do something we want, and it would be a shame, losing your reputation or… someone you hold dear, wouldn't it?"

The woman was about to answer, when Regina felt the first drop of rain on her skin. It started slowly, one dribble after the other, shit, she thought, and Ingrid was already rushing the man to go back inside. And now we'll never know if she has accepted.

Robin looked at her, motioning towards the house, and she nodded quickly, starting to get up. He helped her, sliding his arm under hers, and they reached the break in the hedge. He peeked towards the glass door – it had just closed, and she joined him – she saw Ingrid's silver dress getting further, like a spot of color becoming smaller and smaller, until she disappeared. After a few seconds, they were pushing the door and slithering inside.

"What do you think?" Robin murmured, once they were back in the dark room. His words echoed, and a chill ran down Regina's back. Her eyes lifted to find his, and she worried her lower lip, then looked outside – the rain was starting to fall, now, fat drops splashing on the grass, on the path made of stone, pouring from the trees, and a thunderous noise made her flinch.

"I think I should find out what's going on," she finally answer, quiet, turning again towards him. "Robin, a blackmail involving Gold and Ingrid?"

He exchanged her look, and this concerned her, because he usually was the one who calmed her down, and now she could see he was worried. "Regina, you heard that man," he said. "He told her it's dangerous."

"She also said something about her family," she replied. "Elsa's sister is pregnant, and if they are blackmailing Ingrid… that baby, Robin, her baby is innocent, and…" she held his hand tighter, feeling the familiar sting of tears burning at the corners of her eyes. "If I can do something to help them, if I can discover something…"

He lifted one hand to her cheek, his palm warm against her skin, and looked at her intently for a time that felt longer than it actually was. "I don't want you in danger," he stated. "I'll handle it."

"What? No!" she protested, distancing her face from his hand. Her heart, until then curled in a nook of anxiety, began to twirl in panic. "I… I don't want to drag you into this, it's Gold that – it's not –" she knew she was babbling, but he shook his head, and he was saying something, but her mind was back to that day – her Daniel on the ground, dying in her arms, and their crashed car fuming next to them.

How can it be, that I care about him so much, after only a few days?

But she realized he had done nothing but caring, during those days. Being there, even when she was sick, and listening to her, and being kind, and yes, she cared too.

"Regina!"

Her head snapped back there in the present. In that instant, a thunder shook the sky. She looked at him, and he was scrutinizing her. "Calm down, love," he murmured. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to focus on steadying her heartbeat. In, out. Come on. In, out. After a few seconds, she blinked, looking up at him.

"Better?"

She nodded, hating that he had to see her like this, hating it. Thoughts like what does he think of you now began to skim into her mind, but she pushed them away. "Sorry," she murmured. "I just wanted to say… I've decided to do this, I didn't mean to involve you," she explained.

"But since I apparently can't keep you from investigating, I want to be involved," he said firmly. His eyes flashed in the beginning of a smile, and his hand went to place itself on her hip. "I think we'd have better chances together, you know?"

She stood silent, her thoughts running fast. He's right, he'd never let me do this alone, she mused, a rush of affection passing through her veins. "Okay," she answered. She lifted on her tiptoes, to press a kiss on his lips. "Thank you," she told him, in a heartfelt murmur. Oh, he was so wonderful. So wonderful, and she had potentially ruined it all… it had been a great evening so far, and she had nearly fought with him…

"Anytime, Regina," he murmured, like he meant it, and she was hit by the simplicity of his answer.

"Come on, let's go dance," she proposed, and he smiled, maybe we can still save this evening after all. He followed her through the abandoned room and they sneaked past the curtain, immerging themselves again in the bright and lively atmosphere of the ball room.

§§§

Two hours later, they found themselves hidden behind a corner, in the dull light of candles, exchanging the sloppy kisses of too much rosé wine and sore feet, and he was relishing in the sensation of Regina's hair between his fingers. Her carefully curled locks were now loosened, almost straight again, and she was pressing her body against his in a way that was having him scream for more. Without breaking the kiss, she dragged him towards deeper shadows, away from the light.

The sounds from the room were now strangely muffled. He knew that the noise should have been loud, but he couldn't find his senses to care about it. The violins were gone – apparently, from after midnight it was the turn of another music, more modern and danceable, and what a show it had been to see all those composed dancers from past times turn into people of their time.

We were victims of the night
The chemical, physical – kryptonite
Helpless to the bass and the fading light

Oh, we were bound to get together
Bound to get together

"Robin," she whispered, her lips half-parted. A thunder, in that moment, growled in the sky – the velvet teared up by a white lightning, and his gaze went to the closest window, it was almost like the ancient gods were angry for something. He pulled Regina closer, his nose inhaling her scent, the perfume of the rose between her hair, and then his hand down to her hips, down –

"Locksley!"

Regina parted their lips with a smack, startled, and they turned their heads – Ingrid was coming towards them, unfazed by their annoyed expressions.

She neared them, and he had to distance himself from Regina, her hand up to try and fix her hair from the playful twist he had provoked with his needy fingers. "What is it?" he asked, trying to regain his usual calm.

Ingrid had joined them, and she smiled briefly at Regina before looking at him. "Acqua alta," she said, with an apologetic expression, but he widened his eyes nonetheless.

"Already?"

"Sorry, what?" asked Regina, confused.

"Oh," he said, looking at her. "It means high waters, and that the bridge of this place –" he looked at Ingrid, accusingly, "– is currently underwater, and that nobody can cross it."

"I was planning on rebuilding it this summer, you know that!" Ingrid said, defensive. "But still, too late to leave now."

"But… we can't use a boat?" Regina asked.

"I wouldn't go outside with this weather, and you?" Ingrid answered. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay here for the night."

Regina turned towards him, a bunch of questions painted on her face. "Stay here?"

"We have plenty of rooms, don't worry about that," Ingrid told her. Regina was still looking at him, and he nodded slightly. "I guess we'll have to accept the invitation," he said, praying it would be okay with her, but her lips curved up in a secret smile, just for him. She turned towards Ingrid, and nodded, adding a soft thank you. He knew that those words hid something more, concern, care, and it struck him, how brave Regina was – willing to put herself in danger for this woman she had just met, to make sure her family was safe.

"I guess it's settled, then," Ingrid whispered, and left them to talk to a man who was supposedly going to led them to the room.

"You okay?" he asked, and Regina smiled lightly. He wondered if she was just tipsy or really happy, he wondered if she was both, but then it was time to go, and they followed the man – he said his name was Olaf – up the stairs, down on a corridor, past a door and then another, and he was almost lost, Regina's hand the only thing that seemed real.

"There you go," the man smiled, pushing a door. "For any problem, I'm just at the end of this corridor."

They thanked him, watched him go away in a bouncing walk, and they were alone. Robin tried the main chandelier, but it was probably broken, because it wasn't working. He had to switch on the lamp on the night table instead – he placed there his wallet, Regina set her purse next to it. And he had to slip off his shoes, which were still humid from the rain.

And they were alone.

And she grabbed the collar of his shirt and started to kiss him.

§§§

It started with a kiss, it tasted like wine and him, his hand placed on her back, and a growing sensation of heat spreading on her chest, like a series of summer fireworks – at every kiss, she was getting more hunger for him, his touch, more, please. His lips were ravenous, as if he wanted to melt them with hers, to come together and mingle, more, more, please, the suffused light in the room providing that quiet touch they needed.

He brought his hand up, up towards her mask, pulling gently the ribbons – once he finally uncovered her features, he stopped for a moment to look at her. "Bellissima," he whispered, kissing her forehead tenderly. That sudden sweetness was so different from the hungry, desperate kisses from seconds ago – and she felt like she could give him something in return, nuzzled her nose on his cheek, and lifted her hand to loosen his knot. His mask slid casually down her dress, rustled on the fabric, and landed on the carpet with a soft thud.

"It's nice to finally watch you," she murmured, smiling.

"Same for me, love," he answered, his dimples deepened by the low light of the lamp. Outside, the storm was roaring its way in the sky, and a sudden thunder shook the glass – her gaze flickered towards the inky blue, lightened for an instant by a white flash.

"Afraid of the storm, milady?" he laughed, and she smacked his arm.

"Shut up," she threatened.

"Make me."

She lifted her eyebrows – she couldn't believe he had dared to challenge her. She took him for the folds of his jacket and brought him towards her, crashing her lips on his, and his moan stirred something inside of her, that had her asking more, please, more.

So when he tilted his head, looking at her questioningly, as if he was asking are you sure? She nodded, simple as that, and he went to sneak his hand to one of his favorite placements – between her hair. He slipped out gingerly the pin that kept them more or less fastened, the pin where he had fixated the white bloom he had given her at the beginning of the evening. He placed it on the table next to them – and neared his head to her shoulder, kissing her bare skin. "Turn around, lovely," he murmured, and she felt a shiver buzzing from his lips to end directly at her core, already pulsing and wet.

She felt his fingers work tirelessly on the ribbons of her corset. One after another, he untied the first knot, starting from the top, and going down, with a… rhythm… ah, agonizing, and slow, so slow… "Robin," she protested, writhing a little and earning his deep chuckle.

"Have patience," he instructed, loosening the last knot, and pulling the folders aside to reveal her nude skin. His hand ghosted under the fabric – he was still behind her, and he slid a finger inside the dress, caressing her back, then moving towards the front. She froze, then, and he stopped.

"Something wrong?"

"No," she answered, in a throaty voice that didn't sound quite like herself. She turned in his arms, and his hand had to leave its warm nest to return on the outside. "But I believe…" she trailed her fingers up on his arm. "… I believe it's your turn to lose some layers, handsome," she flirted needlessly, and he smiled at her, bowing slightly his head as if he was telling her to go ahead. Regina grabbed the fabric of his suit in her hand, pushing it down, until it come to rest in her hand. He took it from her, letting it slip on the ground. But he still was too dressed up for her taste.

She started to search for his belt, when he placed his hand on hers, and she looked up to him. "Let me take care of that," he said. He leaned on to kiss her – now the slowness seemed to have been forgotten, because she brought up her hands to his cheeks, while he worked at his trousers.

"Why are you so damn slow," she panted between kisses, and he smiled against his mouth. Regina slid her hand down, finally finding his hardness under one more layer.

"Impatient already, are we?" she teased, and a dark shadow passed through his eyes, one that promised to make her scream in pleasure and tremble in his arms. She shivered, stings of lust burning her core – she wondered if the sexy, lacey panties she had brought weren't already soaked.

He was in his shirt and underwear, now, and threw her a smirk before nearing his mouth to her neck. When he started sucking there, she felt stars shining behind her closed eyelids. "Ah, please," she moaned, and with her great displeasure, he separated his lips from her skin. She watched in marvel as he dragged her closer to the bed, and started lowering her dress – she could already see her bra, that black strapless garment she had bought on Monday. No.

"Wait," she panted, and he immediately stopped. "Let's… turn off the light, shall we?" she proposed, and he seemed puzzled for an instant, but nodded. He reached out for the night-table, and pressed the switch. Now it was dark, and this was good, and Regina relaxed again against his hands which had restarted their endless quest to remove her dress. He lowered it, uncovering her belly, passing a hand on the covered cup of her breast, then pushed down gently, until he reached her underwear. At this point, he was practically sitting on the bed, her standing in front of him, half-naked.

She could tell he didn't see a thing, because his hands were now pressing more carefully on her skin, as if he was drawing a path, trying to learn the map of her curves, the softness of her arms, and down to her gown – he smoothed the velvet, before offering her one hand to help her step outside. He got up, with a quick peek at her knuckles, and left her hand to go and fold her dress on a chair, not to ruin it.

Regina was keeping her eyes closed, still standing next to the bed, and didn't hear him approach, but felt his arms around her waist as he embraced her from behind. "Do you really need your heels?" he whispered against her shoulder, sending chills down her spine.

She turned, slowly, rotating in a way that let her face him. "I'll give them up," she murmured, trailing kisses on his jaw, "if you lose your shirt," she bargained.

"Deal," he answered, in a raspy voice that had her toes curl. Another quick kiss, and he was so slow, in everything, it was pure torture. His body's warmth left her, and – he wasn't doing that? – but he was – kneeling, and lifting one of her feet, and carefully slipping it out from the heel, then the other, his hand hot on her ankle. She breathed, for only a second, because he was already up, kissing her neck, and she placed her lips on his neck too – sucked a bit, it had him groan in pleasure. Two can play this game, she laughed inwardly. "Your shirt," she remembered, searching the buttons with quick fingers. Apparently, he was as eager as she was; because he stopped her hands to lift the shirt up and remove it like a bottomless garment.

She was not prepared for his bare chest. Toned, for all she could feel despite the lack of light, her hand was already caressing his shoulder and then down to his abs, but he wasn't standing still – because finally, finally, all that kept their bodies apart were a few pieces of clothing, and his hand was sneaking towards the clasp of her bra. Regina bit her lip, then neared her lips to his ear, and whispered. "Take me to bed."

She met his eyes – a glimmer of blue in the dark, kindness and lust mixed together. He nodded, left her bra, still secured, to pass his arms around her waist again, then – oh, what was he doing? – he was lowering himself a bit, his arms sliding just down the curve of her ass, his knees flexing slightly. He pushed down, and actually lifted her from her feet.

And she giggled.

She actually giggled, like a teenager, because he was peppering kisses on her face, and turning towards the bed and covering the distance in one single step. She was expecting to be almost thrown onto the mattress, but instead he kept her up, and lowered her gently, until her back reached the white sheets, her hair splayed on the pillow.

She saw a shadow of desire in his eyes, and couldn't help but throw him a wide smile.

"You sure?" he asked again, uncertain, but Regina continued to smile, drawing slowly his head towards her by cupping his cheeks.

"I want you," she told him, and got a flash of dimpled smile before he lowered his head to kiss her, his hands going to stroke her thighs, his fingers going to hook on the border of her panties. "Yes," she murmured, and he took it as an invitation, finally lowering them, down on her thighs, and letting his fingers slid towards her pulsing bundle of nerves. When he first touched her, she blinked once or twice, never leaving his eyes. He was scrutinizing her, making sure she was comfortable, and she thought she could have started crying, for his affection and care, and his desire, that had... enlightened places inside of her, numb from years.

He shifted a bit, continuing to trail his finger there, and yes, exactly, "There –" she said, raspy voice and greedy arms, thinking she could exchange the favor, and her hand joined his length, already hard, and stroke it. "Regina," he moaned, his fingers stopping for a moment, as he was adjusting to the touch of her hand.

"Yes?" she asked, faking innocence, throwing him a devilish smile.

For an answer, he added one finger inside of her, and she couldn't hold back a surprised Oh, and he laughed in a low tone. His other hand sneaked between her skin and the mattress, and finally unclasped her bra. He pulled the black cups apart, and she couldn't help but notice his mastery in freeing her breasts with one hand.

She caught a glimpse of marvel in his eyes – it was dark, but she could see something, and especially the look of pure need he threw to her chest. "See something you like?" she teased, with another stroke to his cock, and he – oh – he bit his lower lip, "You have no idea," he answered. His lips went right there – finding her nipple, and he was so gent – no, he was sucking it, and her body arched back, to let him have more, to press her tighs against that delicious friction…

"Ah, please," she let out, momentarily forgetting to keep teasing him – he took advantage of it, because he left her breast, fastened the pace of his fingers, finally, she thought – right there –

And slowed down.

"No," she said, outraged, but he simply smirked, stroking slowly.

"Are you close, love?"

"You know I am," she told him, half- aroused, half-angry – oh, he'll pay for this. Her hand went back there, pushing down the fabric, down until they were finally both naked, skin on skin – she circled his length, drawing torturous paths, and then it was a fight, giving pleasure, taking pleasure, wetness on his fingers, bodies sweaty, one against the other.

"Oh-okay," he rasped, and Regina couldn't hide a triumphant grin. "I surrender – ah, Regina! – you are making me co-"

"I want –" she tempted, clenching her teeth when he brushed against her clit. "– inside –"

"You sure?"

"Yes," she hissed, pressing her chin on his shoulder. She was finding it very hard to concentrate on giving him pleasure when he was rubbing her insides, so painfully wet… "You – have a condom?"

"Yes," he answered, leaving the hold on her hair to stretch one hand towards the night table. She closed her eyes, as he fidgeted with his wallet, and sucked up a breath, he was retracting his fingers – "No," she protested, and went to block his hand. "Let me."

She left her hold on him to go and rip the package, his fingers curled – actually curled inside of her. "Stop distracting me," she smiled, her tongue between her lips in concentration, and he chuckled, pressing his forehead against hers. Finally, the damned thing exited, and she could unroll it gingerly, with a kiss on the corner of his lips. "Just hold on a bit longer," she whispered.

"For you, lovely," he said cheekily, and she had to roll her eyes, smiling, then nearing her mouth to his jaw. His beard tickled her skin, and she anchored one leg above his, widening her entrance. He continued to stroke her clit, faster this time, and yes – at last, he was giving her what she wanted, yes –

"Please, Robin, I need –" she started, but her words where needless, because oh, he was finally entering her – he filled her, and she felt so tight, oh, she hadn't had that in years, and this was familiar, yet new –

He pressed his hands to her back, pulling her closer, "Regina," he moaned, "you're bloody amazing, love," he said, one hand up to stroke back her hair, his eyes dangerously close. She crashed their lips together, and pushed him down, finding herself on top.

"You feel so great," she told him earnestly, "oh, please –" the sensation of him, of his palm cupping her breast, him inside of her, she felt complete, as if she'd found a missing piece – that spot, right there –

"I want to hear you," he said, but no need, she was practically straddling him at this point, her head arched, her eyes closed in the dark, "Right there, please –" and he went there, yes –

Oh, that was an explosion of stars behind her eyes, screaming his name, his words telling her he had come too, holding a hand on her arm, his finger clenching, she was probably going to have red spots there in the morning – the deep thrusts slowed down, down, until he stopped. She collapsed on his stomach, without bother to wipe off an idiotic smile from her face, breathing in and out, her heartbeat slowing down too, and he was still inside her.

When he rubbed her forearm gently, she lifted her head, kissed his jaw, his neck, continued to kiss him as he left the warm place where she had hosted him. His hand went to caress her cheek, without talking, there was no need, not right after their souls had come to life in the same instant. Her eyes closed, so she missed the movement of his hand to pull the covers above them, but she was smiling, as he held her closer, and she didn't think she was going to stop smiling anytime soon.

She fell asleep with his murmur near her ear, his hand on her stomach and his breaths on her neck, feeling more alive than she had been in years. Lulled by his warmth, she let her serene exhaustion waltz her into the land of dreams.