Thank you for all the kinds comments I have been receiving from this story, I am so pleased everyone seems to be enjoying it so much! I apologise for the delay in updating but things have been crazy for my recently and will continue to be so, but I am trying to fit this story along side my revision schedule for summer exams so that I can get it finished. I am aiming to have 2-3 chapters after this one.

Anyway, hope you like this little chapter! Please do leave a review and let me know what you think.

It's been two weeks since Regina left Robin's apartment, since she turned a few heads as she strolled the early morning streets of New York in a booby cocktail dress and a pair of heels. And now it's been two weeks since she's heard from Robin, and Regina's bored of waiting. Honestly, yes, she is a little miffed that he didn't once contact her, and even more miffed that she won't have his tongue between her legs again. Regina has sampled many talented tongues but Robin's… it was something else. The insides of her thighs tingle just thinking about it.

His tongue would do this thing where he would trace her clit but then press, just right, in these small little licking motions, which Regina could feel pulsate all the way down to her toes. No man has ever made her feel so good in the history of her sex life. And she has had a lot of sex.

Then there was his scruff; she likes a beard, likes how it feels against her thighs and how she can still feel it there the next morning if they eat her right. Robin pulled off the scruff perfectly. It accented his dimples, made his smile even sexier. Especially when he was grinning up at her from between her knees.

She thought of him on the Saturday night, as she slipped her fingers down her panties and brought herself to orgasm. Her fingers traced the route that Robin's tongue had made, a pattern she had paid thorough attention to and saved in the back of her head for more spine-tingling orgasms. But it just didn't feel the same. It left Regina sated but not spent. Panting but not breathless.

Damn Robin Locksley and his ability to set the bar incredibly high.

But Robin never called, and Regina is pissed. Of course she is, she doesn't like the idea that the man who couldn't even wait for her to finish before blowing his load didn't want to come back for more. She's pissed because out of all of her fucks, he's the only one that she has actually wished would come back for more, and yet he's left her wanting more. And that never happens. So she's also pissed at herself for feeling this way—but more pissed at him for making her feel this way.

Bastard.

Though Regina does not wait around for anyone. No matter how good looking they are, or how amazing they may be at oral. So on Friday, once she is home from her day job, she is slipping into something a little less comfortable, and, well, something a little less. Tonight she's getting back out there, sharpening her claws, ready to dig into some fresh meat and make some poor other sex-starved bastard go against his wedding vows and fall under the sheets with her.

She needs sex. Good sex. Two weeks is too long to go without it. A vibrator can only offer so much.

Regina paints her lips a signature red before heading into her closet to pick out a bag. She slips her second phone into it along with her lipstick and a spare pair of panties. However, she startles when her clutch begins to vibrate, the noise loud against her dresser. Her phone is ringing. Regina reaches for it and fishes it out.

There's no caller ID but she answers it anyway.

"This is Mila."

She's met with silence, but there's someone there. She can feel the weight of them on the other end of the line. "Hello?" she prompts again, her patience wearing a little thin.

There's a shuffling in the background but again no answer, and Regina is just about to hang up when she is met with a murmured fuck and then a quiet and defeatist, "Mila, it's Robin."

Oh. Well this is unexpected. She really had thought she'd heard the last of Locksley. Apparently she was wrong, and she is quite pleased that she was. Regina can't help but grin mischievously as she perches against her dressing table. "Robin," she purrs, her lower lip sinking between her pearly whites. "I didn't think I would be hearing from you. I must admit… it's a pleasant surprise."

The man sighs. "That's because I have been fighting against making this phone call for almost two weeks." He sighs before admitting, "And I know I shouldn't be calling you, but I can't stop thinking about you."

A thrill ripples through Regina's veins and throbs between her legs. She loves it when she leaves an impression, and she doesn't mean the small scratch marks she may or may not have left behind on Robin's ass. Despite their agreement. She knew she left him wanting more—she can't quite believe she doubted herself.

"You have?" she asks, her voice airy and feminine as she flicks her hair behind her shoulders.

"Yes," he admits and then there's a pause. Another lengthy silence before Robin simply states, "Marian is out of town tonight."

It's an invitation. But he doesn't want to invite, because that would be wrong. So he's saying this so that she can invite herself. And she's more than happy to oblige as she husks, "Want me to come over and… keep you company?"

Robin groans. He's conflicted, yet he called her. It's very clear what he wants; he just needs to agree. And that's what he eventually does as he whispers a soft, "Yes."

The brunette smirks, grabbing her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."