Title: Temptation

Rated: M

Summary: In which Regina's an SLAA therapist and an old acquaintance happens to join. How terribly inadequate.

A/N: I miss posting shit and I am fucking determined to get my mojo back. I wrote this earlier this year and well I promised natoqlove that I was going to do the sex!addict sort of thing in ff. That being said, if it isn't your thing, off you go. In addition, let's get one thing clear: this is just for fun, just to try and work around some crazy ideas. That's all. This will consist of one shots revolving a main plot because I really don't have time for another multichapter right now *sad face*. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this cracky fick.

He's always known she likes it rough.

Remembers her appreciative groan over a harsh bite to her breast, or a firm suck on her clit after he'd finished her off, hungry, hungry, always hungry for more. Sometimes a pull of her hair did the trick, followed by soft open mouthed kisses along the length of her neck, down down down until he found himself settled between her legs again, and again, until she'd push him away and tried to get her body under control.

But then she'd always ask for more, deeper, faster, harder, demanding a touch, a pinch, a spank, a pull, a change in position, anything to get off.

And he'd often conceded.

Found himself groaning as he doubled his efforts, pinched and bit every patch of skin he could find while moving deeper and deeper into her, the wet sounds of their bodies joining together quickly reverberating around the room they'd find themselves in that day.

A library.

A car.

The movies.

At a park one too many summer nights.

God, she's always been the embodied version of temptation, and he the willing victim. Always hoping, praying for that moment when their hips meet, her soaked cunt gripping his cock as he slipped over and over into her.

He tried, often, to hold on, hold back, prevent himself from bursting inside of her the moment she'd cry out in pleasure as her cunt gripped him tighter, and tighter, tempting him to lose all semblance of control, just lose himself entirely on everything that was her. But instead he'd fight, fight against the ache on his lower belly, against the warmth spreading spreading spreading all over his body, against the tightness in his balls, the tremble of his limbs and just pushed through, until she'd keen in pleasure, nails biting harshly into his skin as her body exploded in a series of trembles and shouts, her cunt coating his cock with her release. And at that moment, he'd found himself ignoring his own need for release, would instead hold her hips firmly in place and move into her languidly, slowly, basking in the tightness and slickness her orgasm brought.

"Come in me," she'd whisper against his ear more often than not, softly, voice raspy, hands moving up and down his back. He'd groan in relief and excitement, before smiling against her neck and thrusting firmly into her one, two, three times before finally giving into temptation, into her, and emptying himself inside of her, thanking his lucky stars for having a woman that met him thrust for thrust, a woman that challenged him at the same way he challenged her.

The same woman that now, years down the road, with shorter hair, softer curves, and the same tantalizing breasts, still manages to make his blood rush south with just a look.

God, he itches for her, for the only one that's been able to quench his thirst.

Not any of his past lovers.

Not his wife (even though he tried oh so hard).

Just her.

Which always resulted in exorbitant claims, claims about a disease that he's oh so certain he doesn't posses.

No.

No

He just gave into temptation once, took a bite out of a forbidden fruit that ended up being his downfall the moment she walked away from him.

But he can't complain.

No.

Not when he got to have her for years in his dreams, and now in his reality.

Like right that moment, with her dragging her hips slowly against his, a sly grin on her face as she teasingly stops and reaches for his hands that firmly hold the back of her bent knees.

"Right here," is what she says as she moves them up towards her ass and firmly presses his hands against her buttocks, then starts moving on top of him, slowly, eyes closing as she basks in the feeling of having him again after countless of years.

Robin bites on his lower lip tightly, eyes frowning as his hands tightly take a hold of her buttocks on their on accord, aiding her in her movements.

"Oh God love," he whispers, whispers even though he feels like shouting for she's getting slicker with every push of his cock, and when he thrusts upwards at the same time he pulls her down, Regina's breath hitches and she trembles slightly on top of him.

"Fuck," she lets out on a whisper, a whisper because even though the doors are locked and her office is empty until his scheduled meeting at 5 o' clock, they can't afford to get caught in the situation. So Regina growls, coming to the same conclusion as him that they're running against time, and presses her palms flatly against his chest, leans forward a bit, and begins riding him hard and fast, eyes closed tightly in concentration as she takes from him what she needs at that moment.

And Robin? Robin subjects himself to her, to her sweet tight cunt, to the soft pants that escape her beautiful mouth and the view of her nipples all tight just begging to be licked, sucked, touched. But the view is too much, feels the slight warmth low in his belly grow, and with a frustrated groan, he slips his right hand between their bodies, thumb falling over her clit quickly, pressing, circling it until she falls against his chest, gasping and calling out his name as her hips move erratically, desperately searching for that release she knows he can give her.

"Come for me," is what he whispers after a moment, strangled, holding on, always holding on for her.

But she's become a babbling mess above him, quickly losing the rhythm she picked and he grips her hips, holds her still on top of him as he thrusts up, harder, faster, skin smack smack smacking against another before she's shouting, tensing, trembling, and coming apart on top of him.

He continues his movements, slowly, face scrunched up, sweat building, growing tense as he fights against his own need to come and helps bringing her down, back to earth, back to him, until she's mewling, sighing and picking up momentum again.

Damn her (Bless her), Robin curses under his breath, closes his eyes tightly, tries to focus on something else, something other than the increased slickness, the tight almost painful grip, the burning in his lower belly. But then she's moving her hips faster in circles, breath hitching by her own ministrations and it's all too much, he tries to savor it for as long as he can but then he's letting out a grunt, eyes opening quickly. "I'm coming," he lets out on a breath, and Regina quickly leans back, lets him slip from her with a wet sound, and wraps her hand around his base. He groans in reply, eyes closing instantly as she gives him one, two, three strokes before he tenses up, lets out a grunt and comes, body combusting in a series of trembles as he spills on his belly and her hand.

Regina's grinning devilishly when he comes to, wiping her hand on his chest and then reaches for something to the left of his head. But he can't focus on that, not when her tits are so close to his face, so on impulse he leans forward a bit, closes his mouth over a peak and grins when her breath hitches and she trembles above him slightly. But then she's leaning back, still grinning, and raises an eyebrow as she wipes his come with her panties, an action that has Robin groaning and closing his eyes.

Later, when he's sitting in his respective chair and she's crossed legged three seats down his right looking as well-put and professional as ever, Robin Locksley thinks of the ruined undergarments in his pocket and bites back a smile as Regina, his therapist, begins today's SLAA meeting.

How terribly inadequate.