I don't own any of the characters present herein, I just use them for my own entertainment. My first SwanQueen fic... just something I dreamed up, and thought I'd put it out there. I've gone over this story more time than I care to count, so I hope it is error-free, but no one's perfect.
Regina never let Emma top. She didn't let Emma stay either. It was their unspoken agreement that they were protecting Henry-he didn't need to know about the late night trysts-so Emma fulfilled her duties of warming the mayor's bed, the after-sex cuddle, then climbed out the window as if she'd never been there. Not that Emma minded much being the mayor's latest play thing-there was no denying that Regina was gorgeous, and, as Emma had quickly found out, a phenomenal lover-but sometimes she wondered if Regina longer after her, as much as Emma longed to stay. Just once, she'd like to spend the entire night next to the mayor, without being hastily shoved on her way as soon as Regina had had enough.
Emma cast at glance at her bedmate before sliding out from under the sheets. Goosebumps pebbled her skin, and she shivered involuntarily under the rush of cool air that enveloped her bare skin as sheets piled at her waist. She was about to swing her legs out over the edge of the bed when a hand gripped her slender wrist.
"Stay," Regina quietly commanded.
"But Henry," Emma whispered in reminder. It was all that she needed to say before she felt Regina relinquish her grasp on her wrist with a heavy sigh. A small smile formed on Emma's lips, made her think that Regina was disappointed that she had to go, when in reality, Regina was probably all too eager to get rid of her, and Henry was the perfect excuse. She leaned over and nuzzled Regina's neck, then deftly kissed a cheek that was rosy from sleep, before rising and searching for her clothes, which had been tossed asunder in their earlier fervor.
Emma sat on the edge of Regina's bed and slipped her tiny, lacy undergarments on, followed by her jeans, black knit sweater, deep red scarf. She cast her eyes around the room lit only by the moonlight that filtered through the shears, for her boots. As she began to slide the zipper up her right boot, she noticed the underwear-if it could even be called that-that Emma had all but ripped off her partner earlier that evening. She smirked as she picked up the flimsy material, slipped it into the pocket of her jeans, and headed for the window. Emma took one last look at her sleeping beauty, then climbed over the apex of the roof and down the lattice.
"Where were you?" Mary Margaret accused her roommate playfully. It's true Emma hadn't been wary of the time when she left Regina's, but the clock in Mary Margaret's kitchen read 6:30 am. For her part, Emma wondered why her friend was up so early.
"Who wants to know?" Emma retorted, taking a seat at the counter, and resting her head on her folded arms.
"I thought about calling the police, but I figured since you are the police and you weren't answering your cell, you were somewhere where you didn't want to be found." Emma peeked up at her friend with sleepy eyes and smiled knowingly, touching her index finger to the side of her nose.
Mary Margaret's eyes widened in realization. "Who was it?" she asked, in a breathy, scandalous voice. "Anyone I know?" she added with a curious twitch of an eyebrow.
"What makes you think I was with someone?" Emma questioned in as innocent a voice as she could muster. Her thoughts turned to the panties that were practically burning a hole in her pocket.
"You realize I'll figure it out eventually, right? Storybrooke is a small town after all, there aren't that many single, eligible bachelors."
"I wouldn't be so sure," Emma replied, standing, and dragging her feet towards the stairs. Eligible though Regina was, she was certainly not a bachelor in any traditional definition of the word.
Mary Margaret sipped her tea.
"I'm going to bed for an hour or so before work. I'll see you later?"
"You bet."
"And you can forget about the Spanish Inquisition," Emma warned, stopping mid-stride, "because if you think I'm going to spill, you've got another thing coming."
"Oh don't worry. You'll slip up sometime, and what kind of friend would I be if I weren't there to catch you in the act and chastise you relentlessly?" Mary Margaret shrugged ingenuously, and both women shared a chuckle before Emma disappeared up the stairs.
Once in the privacy of her room, Emma threw herself down on her bed, and pulled the panties from her pocket and studied the flimsy, silky material. She'd always imagined that the mayor would wear black lacy undergarments, something fiercely sexy. These were nothing like Emma could've ever imagined: shiny charcoal-colored satin, not unlike the blouse Henry had stolen from Regina's closet to lend to her, once upon a time; lace appliqués in a shade reminiscent of Regina's lipstick, but brighter; and perhaps the most shocking part, three lacy pink strings extended from the front and met at the back, suspended from a shiny metal heart. Emma conjured the image of Regina in her mind: the contrast of the satin on her skin, the bra that matched, right down to the metal hearts where the straps met the cups. She approved.
At this rate, Emma wasn't going to get any sleep, so she resisted her arousal, and crawled under the covers, not bothering to remove her clothes.
Emma's eyes shot open, and her fist slammed down hard on the source of her rude awakening, damn near crushing her alarm clock. She growled and brought her hands up to her face, moving her haphazard curls aside. She caught sight of her prize out of the corner of her eye. An idea occurred to her.
She jumped out of bed and fished around in her dresser until she came out with the new pair of jeans she'd bought on a shopping trip that Ruby and Mary Margaret had somehow managed to drag her on, then she remembered how on that same trip, she'd allowed Ruby to convinced her that she needed a splash of colour to brighten up her otherwise dull wardrobe, so Emma had purchased the first colorful thing she could find, just to shut Ruby up. Actually, the colour had reminded her of Regina's lipstick, so Emma could hardly claim it was an impulse buy. Either way, it was perfect, so she slipped it on over her simple black bra. If she'd thought about it, Emma would have stolen the bra that matched her other stolen goods, but that would have been too obvious. As it was, she knew Regina would be onto her by the end of the day, likely before lunch.
Emma smile with delight as she slid the tiny piece of material over her thighs, followed by her jeans-she was already enjoying this way too much. She went into the bathroom and brushed her hair, which was considerably longer now that the curls had mostly unravelled, and touched up her make-up, then she jetted downstairs to make coffee and grab a quick bowl of her favorite cereal before setting out for work.
Regina startled her. She was sitting at Emma's desk, sipping from a paper cup that suggested she'd been to the higher-end coffee place downtown.
"Good morning Sheriff."
"Yeah." Emma grunted her reply. She'd never get used to working mornings, not after spending most nights "working out." She'd only had one cup of coffee at this point, and she needed at least two cups to even begin to make sense of Regina's antics, in spite of how smug she felt about her little endeavor.
"Is that anyway to greet the mayor, Sheriff Swan? Really, I'd have thought you'd have better manners than that by now." But try though Regina might, Emma simply would not allow herself to be led around by the nose, and that included Regina's annoying, not to mention futile, attempts to reform her manners. And Emma was all too aware that this troubled Regina greatly, and she just loved to push the mayor's buttons, the mayor who simply couldn't stand to be told 'no'.
"Oh right, sorry. Is there something you need, dear?" Emma sneered. While she waited for Regina to reply, she moved closer to where the woman was seated and pretended to ignore her, rifling through a drawer in search of a file, though mostly it was an excuse to bend over and titillate the mayor with her choice of undergarment.
"I'm here because something of mine is missing, and I'd..." Regina paused, Emma thought, because she'd become privy to the location of exactly what it was that she was missing.
"You'd what?" Emma questioned, attempting to maintain a pretense of not caring.
"I'd like it returned," Regina said, stiffness evident in her tone. As she'd spoken, she'd deftly slipped her index finger under the side elastic of her G-string that Emma was wearing, then just as quickly pulled her finger away and allowed the thing to recoil against Emma's skin with a loud snap, a most wicked grin plastering her face. Cheeky, Regina thought. That'll teach her.
"Fuck, Regina!" Emma yelped indignantly.
"Yes, fucking, Miss Swan, is exactly how I intend to retrieve what's mine," Regina stood, and slid her finger under the elastic of her G-string once more, then used her hips to slam Emma into the desk forcefully. "And I'd be vigilant, if I were you, about where your own undergarments end up. We wouldn't want yours to go missing too, now would we?" She whispered in Emma's ear, the smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth once more as she thought of the satisfying snap she'd elicited.
Regina pulled away from Emma before her finger unwound itself, but when it did, Emma caught Regina's hand, and forced the mayor backwards into the wall.
"You make it seem like I'd have a problem with going commando," Emma teased, breathing heavily into the mayor's neck. She kissed the little concave at the base of Regina's throat, that sweet little spot between her clavicles, then flashed an innocent smile before releasing her.
"You can have them right now if you want," Emma added, trailing her mouth over Regina's jaw line in little kisses.
"Now where would be the fun in that?" Regina asked, abruptly shoving Emma away. "And since you're both the Sheriff and the thief, it seems I have no choice but to take justice into my own hands, in which case, I'm going to make you wait."
"Wait?"
"Yes, Miss Swan, you'll wait until I'm ready to have you. Enjoy those," Regina nodded her head at the pink elastic still protruding from the waistband of Emma's jeans, "that's the only part of me you'll have between your legs until I decide otherwise."
The thought was pure torture, which, Emma knew, was exactly Regina's plan. She didn't want to ask how long she'd have to wait, but the words had escaped before she could clamp them down.
"How long?"
Regina offered a seductive pout and a shrug of her shoulders in reply, before turning to take her leave, knowing well that she too would be tortured with need before the day's end.
"Henry's asleep by nine, Swan," Regina said as she made her retreat.
"Oh, and bring your handcuffs. I think you'll agree that justice must be swift, Sheriff," she smiled to herself, not bothering to look back.