AN: OQ one shot written for starscythe on tumblr. You're a fantastic friend, and I'm ever so grateful for you, your beautiful manips, and for all the laughs and fun. Hopefully your makeup arrives soon.

Hope you like this. Mwah!

Robin rubs his hand over the back of his neck, sighs and wipes remaining tiredness from his eyes. A satisfied smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth, deepening his dimples, cheeks aching as he watches Regina slide sheer stockings up her creamy legs. A sheen of sweat from their late morning romp dry on his chest, at his temples, behind his knees, grimy like a second skin.

They've been awake for an hour or so now, he's not sure, too enraptured by his love as she stands, steps into the black skirt discarded haphazardly on the floor, pulling it up and beginning to zip up the back, but not all the way, just enough so it hugs her shapely arse in a way that has embers stoking up a fire in his groin again. He relaxes onto his elbows (though, he supposes she's right and they do need to get up and rise with the rest of the morning. But this… view… this position feels rather right to him at the moment), can't be bothered to move, entirely too amused as she tucks her shirt in. He beams at her, grin turning into a smirk as she runs her fingers through her hair and gathers it to one side of her neck, glancing around the room until she spots her shoes on the floor nearest him. She comes around, leans over to pick them up off the ground, the front of her shirt draping open.

He sighs.

Groans.

Biting his lower lip, eyes tracing the contours of Regina's body, her breasts nearly spilling out of the black lacy bra he didn't know he fancied until last night.

The bed dips slightly as she sits down next to him. Comforter wrinkled, tossed over the mattress, sheet hiding his growing arousal as he thinks about them.

Her.

The way he made her cry out, knuckles white, back arched, beautiful ecstasy on her face as she came again and again under his tongue, his mouth, his cock buried inside her. He adjusts himself, shifts in his position, his cock throbbing at the memory of Regina straddling his waist, riding him into oblivion.

She grins demurely over her shoulder, rich brown eyes catching his crystal blues for a moment before she glances back down at her open shirt. Tease. She knows exactly how she affects him.

Good god, how he loves her.

She laughs, and the sound is light and airy, runs like golden honey down his throat, filling his belly and his heart with the way she so easily relaxes in his presence.

He does that to her.

Him.

He brings out this side of her that's playful and warm and youthful. A side that doesn't have to anxiously wait for the next bad thing to happen. It's a side that glows, absolutely radiant and satisfies in a way that only Roland's laughter was able to before. And he knows it's because he loves her. God, he's so in love with her, is falling even more deeply with each day that passes, something that shouldn't be possible because he can't imagine loving her more than he already does.

Except.

He does.

And the thought washes over his spirit, settling a peace over him that he's never felt before. This moment they're sharing, this space of time… how could he have ever thought that this – this – with her wasn't worth fighting for? How could he have ever thought that following his heart to her wasn't honorable?

Regina's nimble fingers make slow work of tucking herself in, fastening one of the small buttons at the front of her shirt and glancing around at him again just to wink at him, but then her expression changes, settles on his gaze. Hair tousled, strands of it out of place, a faint tint of brick red lipstick lingering on her kiss-swollen lips, skirt pulled up to her petite waist but zipper still down a mere two inches or so. A warm glow of candlelight dancing across her features, softening them evermore.

She angles her head to the side, faces her body towards him, and unshed tears well up in her twinkling eyes.

"What?" He reaches up and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, rubbing his thumb along the ridge of her cheek.

"Nothing, it's just… I love... the way you look at me." She confesses, hand resting on his forearm, pointer finger tracing circles there.

His smile grows; he moves to grab her hand, squeezes, hmmms and replies, "I'm makin' up for that lost time," coming up to meet her as she leans forward and capturing her lips in a peck. He lightly bumps his nose against hers, touching their foreheads together. "Lots and lots of missed time."

She smiles, but there's a hint of sadness there. And he can't have that, doesn't want her to linger on bad thoughts and past demons like he knows she probably is. Her palm rests over his heart, and he can feel it pounding, pace picking up as she tap, tap, taps in time with the beat of his heart with one finger, her nail then tickling over his skin.

He swallows thickly.

Shudders out a breath.

He goes back to kissing her, brings her head down, closer to his, hand cupped behind the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her silky hair.

God, how he loves her hair.

Kisses deepen, and she mmms into him.

"Robin." Her warm breath feathering across the stubble on his jaw as she pulls back, chuckling. She starts with, "We really need to get up…" and then his stomach rumbles, gurgles under her touch above his navel. His body reminding him that they've worked up an appetite since they last ate. "And I think that means you agree with me."

"I quite like being here, with you, like this," he states, and that's clear.

Robin grins cheekily as Regina's eyes travel the length of his stomach to the sheet covering just enough of his lower torso, defined muscles dipping down below the bedding to his erection tenting the sheet. Her name leaving his lips.

Her phone buzzes again on the makeshift nightstand next to the bed, and she grumbles, reaches across his chest to fetch it, fabric of her satin shirt teasing at his skin, knees pressed lightly into his side as she grabs the offending device, lights up the screen, scowls and then clicks the little button at the top to dim it and keep it quiet once more. She's lying across him now, over his chest, and he can't help his fingers when they slide up the back of her thigh and up to palm her arse. He squeezes, kneads, and she's quick to angle her head and look at him.

"Robin," she warns. Though, it's not really a warning, not with the way her pupils are already dilating or the way she's sitting up a bit more, facing him, her hip knocking against his hip, legs tucked beneath her as much as they can be in such restraining garments.

He lifts his hand and brushes the pad of his thumb across her jaw, caresses her bottom lip and then coasts his fingers back, sliding them through her hair until he's bringing her mouth to his, kissing her. Chastely at first. Slow, steady presses of their lips togethers. One. Two. Three. Then more eagerly, more greedy as he sucks her lower lip into his mouth and then begs entrance with his tongue.

He inches his hand beneath the front of her top, undoes that sneaky little button there, and slips the open collar down past her shoulder, exposing the lacy bra strap that's keeping her breasts covered and shamefully out of sight.

"Again?" She chuckles, lips humming against his as she braces herself over him, hands pressed into the mattress on either side of him as he slips one strap down.

"I don't think I'll ever tire of doing…" he leans up so they're both sitting, and she squeals in surprise. He kisses the bare skin of her shoulder "this…" wet lips leaving spit to dry as his hot breath feathers over the little trails there "with you."

She moans in response, angling her neck just so, allowing him more room to kiss and lick and lavish, even as she tries to stubbornly point out, "Robin, I really do need to get dressed… today… things to do... We still need to…" her breath catches in her throat as he eases her blouse more open and tugs the cup of her bra down, teasing her nipple with the calloused pad of his thumb, thrumming against it, sending a shiver up her spine. "Robin," she warns, though her body betrays her.

"Apologies, I suppose I've been making up for all the times I've wanted to do this," his hand skates up her thigh, over her skirt to rest on her hip, pulling her closer to him, the bed linens and her clothing the only things separating them from the skin to skin contact that he really wants. "And this," he sweeps her hair away from her neck and plants hot, opened-mouthed kisses there, then sucking at her pulse point before moving to that spot that he knows makes her whimper, gasp and moan. He tugs lightly at her earlobe, whispering, "and I've been a bit of a distraction, haven't I?"

"Mmhmm, you have," she husks and then "Robin," groaning. Though, her body says otherwise with the way it's leaning into him, with the way it begs for his touch and hums in response to his hands sliding down her arms, finding purchase at her waist. The rise and fall of her breath apparent in the heaving of her breasts, full and round. Bra disheveled and pushing them up, nipples peaked, dusky buds calling his attention. Liquid heat pools in his stomach at the memory of his lips chastely coasting down her belly, beneath her navel until his lips playfully teased around her clit, had licked and lapped her to orgasm.

His lips meet hers again. Soft, hard pulls of pleasure, yielding to the other, demanding more. A soft moan escapes her mouth into his. Goose bumps shimmer across his skin and he brings his hands up to cup her face, digs his fingers into her hair. She tastes like cinnamon and what he imagines paradise to be like.

This is his paradise.

She is his paradise.

Regina shakes her head, breaking her lips away from his, licking them and laughing. "You're insatiable, you know that?" She whispers, pushing him back so he flops onto the mattress.

She pulls her bottom lip into her mouth and smirks, letting her hand coast down his abdomen, following the contours of his muscles until she's running her fingers over the sheet that's still keeping him covered, a sheet that's driving him crazy because he wants to feel her touch against his skin. And then he releases a shaky exhale, unaware that he'd been holding it in the first place, waiting in anticipation for her to rub along his cock, nails sending a pleasant shiver up his spine, curling his toes.

"We really…" she travels down, achingly slow, to cups his balls, massaging and then rubbing up his length again, teasing him through the sheet until his breath is unsteady, palms sweating, heart racing, "really should be getting ready. You're still…" Robin's brow furrows and he tightly shuts his eyes, fisting his hands in the sheet, and then his eyes blow open when her touch leaves him, "undressed."

He watches as she drags the sheet away, smiles down at him, still sitting next to him on the bed, a hint of wickedness there, delicious wickedness that has nothing to do with her heart and everything to do with how much she knows he is loving this.

"But…" she says, easing the sheet down past his hips, "I think we can spare fifteen more minutes." And his cock twitches as she spits into her palm and then goes back to stroking him, skin touching skin this time, firmly but gently wrapping her warm fingers around him and pumping slowly, torturously slow. Leaning down to seal their lips together, angling her head and slipping her tongue into his mouth, grazing it across his upper teeth.

There's an energy in the air as Regina's wrist twists around his cock, moving up and then down, up and then down, setting a steady rhythm that has his stomach muscles tensing and untensing as pleasure builds.

Regina kisses him once more, and then sits back a bit, watches him, watches as she pumps her wrist a little bit faster. Her eyes meeting his, and she notices there's a speck of hazel in them, a glimmer of gold in a sea of blue; she gets lost in them, and her breathing hastens as he inhales sharply on an up stroke that has precum beading at his tip. She picks up the pace, up and then down, up and then down, rotating her wrist back and forth, her palm sliding over the head of his cock every time she strokes up. She knows it drives him crazy with want, knows he loves it – the feel of it as she slides his foreskin down and rubs against the ever so sensitive head of his cock with her other hand, thumb swirling over it. It has his pelvis thrusting up, hips jerking in response, and a series of expletives and moans escaping his mouth. It spurs her on, wetness slick between her thighs.

God, how she wants him, wants to feel him inside of her, wants to shed her blouse and skirt and nylons and stay in bed with him all day. She knows he's close, can feel it in her grasp, can hear it in the urgency of his voice with each word that comes careening out of his mouth, yes, just like that, yeah mmhmm Regina god, yes, yes lovely like that don't stop keep going guh...

And then Regina's phone rings.

Again.

A shrill sound that brings her out of what she's doing, her hand falling out of rhythm as she glances at the phone ringing and ringing, vibrating and tapping against the surface of the decorated chest next to her side of the bed.

Robin's breath hitches, he groans; she's distracted, wrist all but stopping as she gets more and more annoyed with each ring. Until finally, he relents and says, "They're just going to keep calling."

"I know," she huffs, feeling a little bit guilty about the fact that she knows she's going to answer the phone this time, and Robin's… well… in a state. "Hold on." She clamors off of the bed, wipes her hand off and then smooths out her skirt before snatching up her phone.

She answers in typical Regina Mills' fashion.

"I thought you'd have taken the hint by now, Mary Margaret," she gripes, tucking the phone between her cheek and her shoulder so she can fix her bra.

She's a mess, hair in complete disarray, blouse and skirt wrinkled, breasts on full display, but she doesn't have much time to clean herself up, just enough to adjust her bra, pull her strap back up while saying, "I wasn't answering your calls for–"

But Mary Margaret cuts her off.

"Regina, it's Henry. Everything's fine. But there was an accident. David and I just got him to calm down, but he's upset. Something happened with Emma, and we don't–"

Regina's shoulders tense and her back goes ridged. The bed shifts behind her, and Robin appears in her peripheral vision, concern on his face. She turns to look at him, and he listens as she continues to talk to Mary Margaret.

"Is he alright?" Regina asks, nodding her head. Robin reaches for her hand, squeezes reassuringly. She squeezes back. An anchor while her heart races and panic sets in. A few seconds later, she's saying, "I'm on my way. No, no. It'll only take me a few minutes. Try not to let anything else happen to my son while I'm gone."

She hangs up the phone and stands up rather quickly. "I have to go. Henry… there was an accident. He was hurt… I have to…"

"I understand. Of course, go," Robin says. She nods, shaken, struggling to slip on her heels and fasten them. She was here with Robin instead of at home with her child, here having sex with a married man while his wife lies frozen like a popsicle in a nunnery.

She's vaguely aware of him yelling after her to let him know if Henry's alright.

It isn't until she's barging into the Charmings' apartment that she realizes (embarrassingly so) that she never did finish buttoning up her blouse.

Disclaimer: characters aren't mine