Okay, so in honor of that fabulous dress Regina had on in last night's episode, I wrote a thing. This is my first try at writing smut *hides in a corner* so I'd love some feedback.

. . .

Robin walks into the house at a quarter past eleven, bone tired as he closes the door behind him with a soft click.

He's been at the sheriff's station all day. Him and a few of his men have been taking care of things while David was off with Regina and Snow and Hook (something with a toadstool and how Arthur is a son of a bitch and not to be trusted–he'd only half understood when Regina called to tell him what was going on). Since David as been otherwise occupied, and Emma, well, hasn't exactly been a law abiding citizen lately, Robin has been trying to pick up the slack with the more day-to-day sheriff duties. Although the citizens of Storybrooke can be an impassioned lot, it hasn't been all that exciting. Mostly it's just paperwork, a few domestic disturbances, making sure the people of Camelot are well-supplied and many tedious phone calls.

Robin goes into the kitchen hoping to put together something to eat to find Regina nursing a tumbler of cider.

"Why good evening, Sheriff Locksley," she says, grinning at him. He rounds the corner and drops a kiss to her lips.

"Hello, my love. I'm sorry I'm so late, we had an old woman whose dog went missing–she was convinced that the Dark One had stolen it as a part of some evil plot. It took longer to calm her down than it did to find the dog."

Regina laughs humorlessly. "Well until we get our memories back we won't have any idea what Emma's planning. Who knows, maybe she's taking a page out of Cruella's book and she's going to turn all the animals against us." Regina stares pensively at her drink, her brows furrowing in a way that tells Robin she's more bothered by this than she's letting on, but then she smiles again and looks up at him. "Are you hungry? There's leftovers in the fridge."

"Wonderful," he says, moving past her to get out a plate and silverware.

"Would you like a drink?"

"Sure," he says, putting his piece of lasagna in the microwave, "Cider is fine. Are the boys in bed?"

"Yes. I'm sure Henry was up longer than he should have been texting that girl, but they're both asleep now."

When he turns back around, she's walking towards him with a glass in her hand, but all Robin can look at is this dress she has on..more specifically, her legs in this dress she has on.

From the left side, the side he'd been standing on when he came in, her dress looks like anything else in her wardrobe. Knee length, dark blue and professional. But from the other side it's a bit more…distracting. There's a slit in it, a triangle of fabric absent so that his eyes are free to roam her lovely legs. The slit ends just above her mid thigh, and it doesn't matter how many times he's seen her naked or that he's seen her in far sexier outfits, this dress has him salivating.

Suddenly, he's not very tired anymore.

He wants to kiss his way up her calves, hands trailing up the curve of her thighs and around to squeeze her amazing ass as his mouth goes higher and higher–

"Robin?"

He snaps out of his daydream to find her staring at him, one eyebrow raised in a practiced arch. He takes the drink from her outstretched hand and watches as her gaze follows his down to the exposed skin of her thigh. She smirks at him, her dark eyes playful when they flick back up to his.

"Bring your plate, we can sit in front of the fire," she says. Then she comes closer, moving like she's going to kiss him, but then she brushes her lips over his cheek, her warm breath blowing over his ear. "And close your mouth, dear."

She lingers for a moment, and then she's gone, taking her drink into the living room, her hips swaying all the way.

There's nothing Robin can do but follow.

He eats relatively quickly, and then they just sit on the floor talking about their respective days. Robin is unable to stop himself from glancing down at her legs, but she hardly seems to mind. In fact, he's noticed the fabric bunching a bit higher since they sat down and Robin has to wonder if she knows what she's doing to him.

Then she turns to face him more, just a tiny shift, but it's enough so that now the lace edge of her underwear is barely peeking out from under the slit.

Oh, that is simply unfair.

Robin has one hand in hers, the other resting idly at his side, but that just won't do, he decides. He puts his other hand on her ankle to start, rubbing his fingers in soft, soothing circles. It doesn't affect her much–she continues talking, but he notices her eyes glance down at his hand when it wanders further up her leg so it rests on her calf. It's not until he moves it to right above her knee, his fingernails softly scraping over her skin that he hear her breath hitch. Her sentence trails off as his hand coats higher, his fingers tracing along her inner thigh.

"I quite like this dress on you, milady," Robin murmurs, his fingers brushing against her over her underwear.

Regina bites her lip and sighs when he starts stroking her clit, her legs parting to give him more room.

"Really? I couldn't tell," she teases, eying the bulge in his jeans where he's quickly growing hard as her body responds to him. Another pass of his fingers and she lets out a shuddering moan, her back arching slightly as he presses harder against her.

"Robin," she gasps as he pushes her undergarments to the side, his fingers passing over her entrance before moving back up to her clit. He gives her another few minutes of lazy attention, but Robin notices her hand starting to grip tightly at the couch cushion, the sounds she's making less soft and more desperate. He can't do much more in this position, so he pulls his hand away and grips at her waist.

"Sit on the edge of the couch, my love."

She nods, shifting as if to do as he asked, but then she moves towards him and crashes her lips to his. Her lips are hot and needy against his. She licks at the seam of his mouth, biting at him when he opens up for her, her hands moving to stroke through his hair to better angle the kiss. She's had a long day–a frustrating day–and she's all worked up, and Robin has no problem matching her eagerness. The make out for a few minutes, their mouths meeting over and over, heated and electric, until his blood starts to simmer. Robin hand shifts from where he'd been cupping her rear until he is once again caressing her uncovered leg. He groans into her mouth and pulls back, urging her onto the couch.

She scoots her hips forward, using her arms on either side of her as leverage to sit up and watch him, her eyes dark with lust. Robin places a hand on her stomach, pushing her down until her back is against the pillows. He makes quick work of her panties and pushes the blue fabric of her dress up to her hips, then he spreads her legs wide and buries his face between them. He teases her, fucks her with his tongue until she whispers a low Robin, please, and then he wraps his lips around her clit, licking and sucking at the bundle of nerves until she is shaking with pleasure. She stifles a loud moan when he thrusts two fingers into her, curling them inside her and then she is coming with a broken cry of his name. He presses his tongue flag against her, slowing the thrust of his fingers as he prolongs her orgasm. When she comes down from her high, he's smoothing the pads of his fingers over her olive-kissed skin, pressing soothing kisses to her legs.

Regina takes a breath, then leans forward and pulls him into a heady kiss. She smiles against him, her lips still brushing over his when she says, "Take me upstairs and get me out of this dress, thief."