Author Note: This is full on smut. There's meant to be humour too, but not everyone thinks I'm funny so, you know, whatever you're in for; enjoy.
"Your incompetence to perform even the simplest of tasks continues to astound me."
With her elbow on the table and chin resting in her hand, Emma's shoulder's jump with silent laughter. Watching Regina tear in to someone that isn't her is… refreshing, and downright hilarious. It's even better when her target happens to be that obsessive toad of a news reporter. This, she thinks, is what happens when you fail the Mayor. She likes it—loves it, even; when Regina's voice gets deep—the little growl that coats her words is positively spine tingling.
Sidney is nodding, his eyes wide with fear, small utterances of "Yes, Madam Mayor" and "I'm sorry, Madam Mayor" falling like a chant from his lips. The best part? It isn't just the three of them, oh no, Sidney is being dressed down in front of everyone who attended the meeting that afternoon. Part of her wishes she had a video camera to record it, to play it back over and over again in the privacy of her apartment where she'd laugh at the absolute terror on the man's face.
Though, truth be told, her eyes spend far more time on the brunette. Regina Mills is heart-wrenchingly beautiful when she's angry, which is why she sometimes goads the woman into arguments the Mayor hadn't seen coming. A little jab there, a subtle comment here and she could have Regina seething within minutes. Sometimes she'd feel bad about it, do something nice to apologise but in general, Regina has usually done something somewhere along the line and its more payback than thrill-seeking.
"Sidney Glass, you are a useless waste of my time," Regina snaps and Emma has to cover her mouth because that silent laughter? Yeah, it's going to escape if this keeps up. "Get out before I fire you."
"Yes, Madam Mayor." Emma snorts because his voice is at least three pitches higher than it should be, and that's when Regina's eyes light on her. She purses her lips and she does this little tilt with her head that Emma finds absolutely adorable but will never, ever admit to thinking because the last thing she needs is to hear that getting around town and making its way to the brunette.
Evil Queen or no, Regina is s-c-a-r-y when she needs to be and Emma would much rather be entertained by someone else being reamed into next week.
The meeting ends shortly after and as Emma stands to leave, she's stops, one foot out the door as Regina calls for her. "Sheriff, a moment if you please." So close, she thinks and steps back, closing the door before she turns to face the brunette.
Regina is staring at her and she has this weird, hybrid expression of confusion, annoyance and—hmm… something Emma can't quite put her finger on. It isn't something she's seen before, or maybe it's simply something she's never noticed but whatever it is, it makes her feel as though there should be flames dancing about her body and—oh, okay; add the smirk that just formed on dark lips and yes, she has seen that look before.
She swallows and shoves her hands in her pockets, nervous and impatient. She almost starts bouncing on the balls of her feet, the urge to run a little stronger than she's used to because Regina is taking far too long to explain why she wanted a moment when they both know Emma has a literal mountain of paperwork to get through if she ever wants to be done by—say; her retirement.
"You seemed to be enjoying yourself this afternoon, Miss Swan," Regina comments finally and Emma squints, unsure where this conversation is supposed to lead.
Laughing at Sidney's misery is a favourite pastime of hers, Regina simply happens to provide the best entertainment for such a purpose. Since she has no idea what she's meant to say, rather than speak, she shrugs. Regina doesn't seem to care and leans against her desk, folding her arms over her chest as she continues to stare.
Emma bites her lip and those chestnut orbs drop a smidgen, the slightly lower gaze likely not noticeable by your average person. Emma is far from average however, and when it comes to Regina—well, let's just say she notices almost everything the brunette does, whether she wants to or not.
She does, mind you.
"You know, I do have work to do."
Patience really isn't much of a virtue when it comes to her. Now that she's actively thinking about her fidgeting, nervousness doesn't really suit her either and really, how long is Regina going to stare at her before she says something important enough to validate this utter waste of time.
"I did know," Regina admits, and that damnable smirk widens. "Truthfully, I'm surprised you knew considering how long it's taken you to realize there won't be any magical fairies popping into the station to do it for you."
Emma rolls her eyes. "Well this has been fun," she says, turning to the door with the intention of leaving. "We should do this again sometime," she adds and it isn't until she has the door open that Regina speaks again.
"I was merely wondering…" She trails off and Emma can practically feel that smug smirk she knows is still there as her head thumps against the door before she throws it closed again. Regina is a colossal pain in the ass.
"What?" she grumbles, irritation seeping into her mood. "What were you wondering, Madam Mayor?"
She hears a rustle and the slow click of heels, and all of a sudden there is this warmth against her back and a puff of heat that washes over her ear and cheek as Regina purrs, "I was wondering how wet you get when I'm angry."
Uh oh.
Her mind screams for her to deny it, to yank open the door and run as fast and as far away from that toxic she-devil as she can.
"Very."
Well, she thinks, so much for what the mind wants.
Regina chuckles, the sound low—husky—unimaginably sexy and then there are hands on Emma's hips and a body moulding into her back and—"Oh god." A shiver ripples down her spine as a tongue flicks the lobe of her ear.
"No," she exclaims, turning and placing a hand on Regina's shoulder. "Bad."
Regina pouts and Emma sucks in a breath, having forgotten to pull away from the hands that slip beneath her jacket, leaving a tingling trail of sensation along flesh as Regina caresses her sides. "No," the brunette repeats. "Are you certain? I guarantee you'll enjoy it."
"No," Emma breathes and damn it, that isn't what she meant to say. "I mean yes, I'm certain. No, Regina; we can't." She gasps, body shuddering as nails rake against her hip. "Oh my god, stop."
"Is that a stop, I don't want this or a stop, I'm only protesting because I think I should?" As Regina questions it, she moves the hands from hips and runs them across her stomach, the tips of fingers resting just beneath her breasts and Emma wonders if she's actually supposed to have the cognitive function to think in order to answer properly.
It becomes apparent within seconds that no, she isn't meant to be thinking at all because when Regina leans in, her voice is a deep, sexy drawl that sends unimaginable heat to attack Emma's sex as she says, "Perhaps it's a stop, please bend me over the table and fuck me senseless." And yes, that definitely sounds like something she wants but this is Regina, Mayor Fancypants, other mother of her son.
"Second," she croaks, one word because that's all she can manage in that moment. She's already lost. She knows it, Regina knows it. She might as well be honest about it. Yes, she wants Regina and while that third option is beyond delicious, it definitely wasn't what she was thinking when she said stop.
A dark brow rises and a "Hmm," is all Regina offers before palming Emma's chest and slamming her back into the wall. Emma grunts on impact but decides what little protest she might be able to present is inconsequential, especially when thumbs swipe over her nipples and words escape her in favour of the pathetic whimper that slips free.
The hand she still has on Regina's shoulder drops to her side and her head follows the rest of her body, thumping against the wall as the smirk the brunette wears turns decidedly dirty a second before Emma closes her eyes. Never has someone handling her breasts sent such pleasure running through her but as Regina squeezes, her lips descend on Emma's throat and there isn't a single feeling in the world that can compare to this.
Her stomach clenches and her nipples harden, a moan rumbling within her throat as teeth and tongue assault her flesh. One hand disappears from her shirt, followed by a distinct click and her head rolls, eyes opening and falling on the door. "Wouldn't want someone interrupting us, now would we?" Regina reasons, a soft murmur beside her ear and Emma swallows, head shaking a little from side to side.
By this point, the only interruption Emma will accept is that of someone bleeding to death on the other side. Even then, it would have to be their son because no one besides him is worth missing this, and the hum of approval against her throat when she grabs Regina by the hips leads her to believe the brunette is more than likely to agree—proving the saying that there is indeed; a first time for everything.
Not one to remain submissive for long, she uses what strength she still possesses to push from the wall, and being the domineering control freak that Regina is, she tries to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" At any other time, Emma imagines the question would have been snappish and threat-worthy but it's obvious what they're doing affects Regina just as it affects her and if that isn't a little cause for pride, then—screw it, Emma is proud and who cares that her grin causes Regina to glare at her?
"Participating," she says, ignoring the indignant huff as she releases the brunette and grasps the ends of her shirt, ripping it over her head and throwing it somewhere to the floor.
Chestnut eyes widen briefly, and then narrow, irises darkening as Regina studies her as though she's a piece of meat which, she admits to herself, there are worse feelings in the world than the arousal that springs between her legs at the thought of Regina devouring her.
"Complaints?"
Dark locks shake back and forth, and Emma surges forward to capture soft, plump lips in a savage kiss. The hands are back, this time mapping her flesh as though Regina is committing the feel of her body to memory. Emma knows how she looks naked, and she looks damn good, so she doesn't really blame the Mayor if she's a little preoccupied to adequately respond to the kiss.
Instead, she takes advantage of the distraction and grabs that sinfully perfect backside that she's spent months daydreaming over. She isn't sure if she imagines it, or if Regina really does moan into her mouth when she squeezes firm cheeks, but she doesn't really care as the brunette seems to realize she's being kissed in the same moment and sucks her tongue into a hot mouth.
Emma certainly moans then and if she happens to be a little rough when she pushes Regina against the table well—she'll apologise for it later but right now? No. Right now, she's intent on lifting the Mayor onto the table where she hopes to divest her of all her clothes before they have wild, passionate monkey sex with one another.
As luck would have it, the second she breaks the kiss to see about those clothes, her belt buckle is already undone, along with the button of her jeans because Regina's thoughts are a step ahead of her.
Funny, that.
Emma shakes her head and toes off her boots as Regina tosses her belt to the side before she's then yanked forward, their mouths reconnecting as her jeans are shoved down her thighs and there's a hand cupping her sex. She half-hums half-groans, pleased as Regina rubs her folds through her panties but somewhat put out that she'll have to wait to see what she knows has to be a body worthy of a goddess beneath the form-fitting suit.
The tongue currently exploring her mouth makes for a wonderful distraction though, and it isn't long before she forgets what she wants because right here, right now; this seems pretty damn good. Their lips slot together as if they're meant to be forever connected, tongues dancing in tandem, and then there is the hand between her legs…
If only she'd known how attentive and soft Regina was sooner, they could have been doing this from day one.
Regina tires of the kiss before she does, evidently thinking there are far more important things to be doing with her mouth as she gracefully slips from the desk, dropping to her knees and practically ripping Emma's panties off of her. Emma hisses, verbalising her displeasure of the painful sting, only to gasp, and then groan when Regina runs her tongue along the seam of her thighs.
"Baby," Regina murmurs playfully, smirking when she receives a glare for her teasing.
"Don't start with me, woman," Emma responds and her hips jerk as Regina digs her nails into them, an inaudible swear falling from her mouth as Regina's tongue swipes across her folds. "God."
Regina glances up at her, a cheeky grin on her lips and Emma is already halfway through an eye roll when she hears, "Regina will suffice." The egotism comes as no surprise, although in the moment, Emma can't fault her that, not when the brunette forces her legs apart and starts licking her in earnest, tongue gliding through her wetness and causing her to go weak at the knees.
Fingers poke and prod at her entrance, drawing forth a long, guttural moan from somewhere deep in her chest as her hands slam down on the table and Regina sheathes the digits inside of her. There aren't enough words in the English language, or any other language for that matter, to describe the rush of excitement that courses through her and her mind settles on the encouraging chant of, "Don't stop," as the in and out of fingers promise a welcome release, each thrust punctuated by the swirl of a tongue against her clit.
As the chanting tapers off into unmistakably pleasured moans and breathy little sighs, Regina pulls her mouth back and slows her thrusts as she tilts her head to look up at the blonde. She bites her lower lip, gazing up at the serene expression Emma wears with something akin to pride swelling in her chest. She has no idea what came over her when Emma stood to leave, all she knows is that when she caught the woman staring at her from across the table, she almost stumbled at the surge of heat that exploded in her stomach upon the sight of slightly blown pupils.
It hit her, hard, that the looks she had always mistaken for unabashed fury were, in fact, ill-disguised lust and the idea that Emma Swan, of all people, wanted her—well, her panties were already ruined from what she'd been daydreaming before Sidney and all his bumbling idiocy announced himself to the room.
With a smile, she returns her mouth to the stiff bundle of nerves, taking it between lips and sucking as she releases a hip and slides her free hand down her front. She pops the button of her slacks and slips the hand beneath her panties, moaning as she lightly strokes her clit, and grinning when the vibrations force another swear from the blonde's potty mouth.
Combined with the vivid fantasies she'd been indulging in and Emma in her current state, she's unsurprised by how easily her fingers become slick with arousal and eases them inside her hot, needy cunt, keeping herself nice and primed for when it's her turn and she's riding the face of her irritatingly gorgeous Sheriff.
"Regina," Emma gasps at a particularly hard thrust and Regina grins again, wanting to hear her name said in that exact way for the rest of—well, forever, if possible.
For now, she contents herself with hearing it in the moment and repeatedly coaxes it from the blonde, driving her fingers in and out, delving deeper and harder with every thrust. Emma begins to shudder above her, thighs quivering with the effort to remain upright, and that's when Regina adds teeth, happily nipping soaked, swollen folds before grazing the hard little nub.
"Fuck," Emma groans, rolling hips against her mouth. "Regina I—"
Regina curls her fingers, rubbing the ribbed patch of flesh as she flicks her tongue rapidly over the blonde's clit, and Emma comes with a hoarse cry of her name. She continues to thrust, removing the fingers from inside herself as she focuses on drawing out the blonde's pleasure.
Emma shudders and whimpers with every aftershock, hands flexing as she tries to keep herself from falling to the ground. She's never come so hard in her life and all she can think to do is drop, to wrap herself around the brunette and give in to the sudden exhaustion plaguing her mind, body and soul. Regina's tongue is still doing such wonderful, delicious things to her and Gods if she doesn't stop, she's going to come all over again.
"Regina, I—" she tries to warn, to stop her.
"I know," Regina interrupts, and Emma cries out again as lips attach themselves to her clit and begin to suck.
Spent, the two of them somehow end up on the floor of the boardroom. Emma has lost count of the orgasms Regina forced her to have and they're simply there, tangled around one another while they wait for some semblance of strength to return to their limbs. "What is this?" she asks after a few minutes have passed, their breathing no longer laboured, hearts sharing a rhythm while pressed so close together.
Regina rises to hands and knees, staring down at her as she appears to consider the question for a moment before replying. "I'm not looking for a relationship, Miss Swan," she says, forcing herself to her feet and extending her hand in an offer of help.
Emma accepts, standing and collecting her clothes that are scattered throughout the room as she responds in kind, "And I'm not looking for a fuck buddy, Mills."
"Fine," Regina growls, annoyed Emma isn't about to let her have her way. "Dinner is at 6," she informs, reasserting her control as she adds, "And bring a toy with you."
Looping her belt through her jeans, Emma smirks at the commanding tone and questions, "Who says I have any?"
"Are you telling me you don't?"
"No," she admits, thoughts wandering to the strap on she keeps in the back of her closet.
Regina glares and buttons her pants as she demands, "Then stop being difficult and get back to work, Sheriff."
Tugging her tank over her head, Emma turns, flicks the lock and yanks the door open as she responds, "Whatever you say, Madam Mayor," stepping through as Regina gasps, and narrowly avoiding the door with a chuckle as it slams shut behind her.
Fishing her phone from her jeans as she departs town hall, she sends the Mayor a text that reads; so you're fine with sex in public, but draw the line at exhibitionism? You're disappointing your constituents, Your Majesty. And receives an almost immediate response.
Bite me, Princess.