Disclaimer: I own nothing. I just played with them.
Note: I had no beta, keep that in mind, ;)
She's laying next to him in what looks like a deep slumber. Deeper and more peaceful than he had pictured she would. He figures it must be partly due to their earlier activities. It has him tired, too, but his physique is used to the woods, to constant exercise and all the strength one needs outdoors.
Her strength is different, and he has come to wonder whether her physical resilience to all he's seen her go through is connected to her magic. She looks so fragile at first glance, but she has tough skin, so to speak.
It's really not, though. Her skin is warm and soft to the touch and he wonders if it's the magic within that keeps it from tearing when she's thrown through hard surface and if it is indeed that magic that helps her heal any injuries she sustains. It must be it. Because when he touched her earlier, even now as his thumb swipes across her upper arm, she feels human. If he wanted to, he could leave a mark.
She has scars, and it makes him wonder whether she couldn't or didn't want to heal them. She's on her side, facing him as she sleeps, one of her legs draped over his with a hand tucked under her own pillow. She's close and he has an arm around her, his fingers gently sliding into her hair. He is risking waking her with his ministrations, which may not be fair given that she looks more peaceful than he has ever seen in the year he has known her. But then, her eyes always captivated him, whether looking at him with lust, passion or even anger, and he selfishly wouldn't mind looking into them now.
She does not stir though, and he relishes in the feel of the texture of her hair. It's much shorter here than back in their land and he remembers having a fascination with it for so long now. He longed to touch it, to feel it, that was in fact his first sign of attraction to her. She was a lot less approachable in the Enchanted Forest, he muses, and while there was a rather complicated connection between them, it's here in this new land that she let him close enough. Close enough to touch and feel.
She's fascinating altogether, and he can see why people are scared off. At the same time, he can't fathom how people can't see what he does. There's beauty to her beyond her physical appearance, but she's wounded and closed off and apparently her walls are effective enough for most not to see through them. She doesn't want or ask to be saved, and yet he has been looking out for her for a while. He wonders if the curse failed to erase that instinct and it was why he was drawn to her like a magnet. She's danger and he has heard the terrible tales, he has felt her power, he has sensed the threat himself but she could never scare him. Thinking back to the last year, sometimes he must have looked crazy. She pushed, and hissed like a cat and he kept coming close.
Her son though, he's special. The boy comes and goes without obstacles. There are no walls to keep him out, he walks right in and she has no defense. He can see that. He observes from the sidelines a lot. It surprises him to realize that he wants to get there, too. Maybe he shouldn't, for there is darkness and dark corners he can't see through at all and god knows what lies in there. But he's not scared, he does not want to run. He wants to discover and uncover and mostly, he wants to make her emerge.
He observes the hand half hidden under her pillow, impressed with how gentle yet violent it can be, depending on what she's in the mood for. He had seen her throw fireballs, has seen magic bursting out of it so powerful that it defeated one of the strongest sources of dark magic. But he remembers the way it rested gently over his heart more than once, how it cupped his face when she kissed him, or how it wrapped around his length a few hours ago, stroking and working him gently, making him come alive.
His eyes wander to her lips, the lips that were curling up in mischief just earlier, the same lips that left a trail of hot, open mouth kisses all over his chest. He has the urge to touch them, to run his thumb over her lower lip but he decides against it. He does enjoy watching her in this private moment, after all. Their first, like this. The aftermath of their first time being intimate.
It was hot and passionate, with a brief awkward moment or two discovering what she didn't like, but desire was burning and it was all consuming. He can feel his body react to the memories of it all - her panting breaths, the vividness of her body pressed against his as he took her… as she let him take her. The involuntary groan that leaves his throat surprises him too, as he recalls the way her legs wrapped around his waist, urging his hips to move faster and deeper. Remembering the way the she felt in his arms, all around him, the wet heat, nails digging into his back, and the strangled cry as she came undone.
How her body shook at once and her hands flew to his hips to still and then stop him altogether to give her body a moment to come down from her high and bear the intense sensitivity. His arms supporting him trembled as he strained and struggled against the throbbing need to continue bucking into her as he had been oh so close, but it was restraint she asked for and it was restraint she got. And then she loosened the hold of her legs once again and her hands cupped his face, heels digging into his ass to grant him permission to resume moving and cross his own finish line. And he did, eagerly, not needing more than a few strokes before he buried his face into that blasted hair of hers, taking in her scent during his moment of release.
Musing about this was a mistake because he is getting hard again, but she is asleep and he does not want to rob her of that peace. He lets out a frustrated sigh, not with her, she deserves no frustration in this matter, but with himself. He desires her, wants to have her again but, and this sounds silly, but not at a cost. She looks at ease next to him and he wants her to have that, wants her to associate that with him. And anyway, they are in her bed, in her home, she's letting him stay. It's a moment he appreciates, a moment he does not want to disturb.
His fingers keep playing with her hair gently, she moves but only to scoot a little closer, and he thinks back to the moment he gave her her heart back. She looked at him strangely, meeting his eyes briefly as he handed the dark heart with intense red glowing streaks back to her. He could only guess what that look was in her eyes, it looked like a brief moment of uncertainty, how exposed the darkness literally was to him but he stood and never moved away as she put it back in her chest. A gasp, a flicker of pain, too, crossed her face but then she looked at him in wonder perhaps because he was still there. And then, again, instead of words, they kissed. It was his turn this time to pull her close and it felt electric.
Although with some reluctance, he decides to leave her hair alone and slides his hand down her back to lazily rest by her waist, maybe it's best he tries to get some more sleep, too.
"Don't stop now."
His eyes fly open in surprise and she's smirking, even if her eyes are still closed.
He chuckles and he moves to grant her wish, his hand back in her hair, cradling the back of her head as he rolls her onto her back, hovering over her. His lips capture hers, nudging them open and she immediately grants him access. She lets his tongue slide into her mouth and caress hers, not doing anything at first but allowing him to take the lead. It's a gentle massage his tongue does to hers, sensual in its caresses and his thumb is against her cheek, holding her in place. A deep moan is her response as she frees her arms and digs her nails into his skin. She begins to respond and what was tender at first grows in intensity. He pulls back for a second, staring at her lips before he ducks his head again for a few chaste kisses, capturing her full bottom lip between his to suck on it briefly. And then their eyes meet and she looks dazed. Supporting himself on an elbow, his other hand leaves her hair and comes to rest on her naked chest, right on top of her heart.
It's got a steady rhythm and it continues to amaze him how content she looks , allowing him to touch and feel her. She doesn't show an ounce of modesty in front of him, and it says so much. It's the eye contact she broke from time to time, but never the contact of their bodies. But he's touching her gently and it's not a difficult thing to do, he wonders why people never try it. Sometimes he thinks of asking her why him, why is it him that she allows to get close but then he likes to think that it's the safety he offers. That he is special and he likes that thought. There is still much left to find out about her but he's up for it. He wants to, very much so. There are doors yet to be opened and he feels that even though he's in her bed, he's barely through the gate. But he won't stop.
"It's strong," he says, looking at his own hand on her breast, her heartbeat underneath.
"And dark."
"But resilient."
She grows serious for a moment and regards him with the same contemplative look she had when she asked him what he saw in her.
"True," she admits and averts her gaze to break the intensity of the moment. She leans up to capture his mouth in a kiss. He hums in response and this time it's Regina who slips her tongue inside, caressing and sweeping, tasting.
"Not bad…for a thief," she breathes after he pulls back and his eyebrows rise.
"Craving more, Your Highness?"
"Where I come from, they call it a challenge," she smiles smugly, rolling her hips and making him groan when she hits just the right spot.
"Where I come from," he whispers against her lips, "they call it accepted."
When some time later she screams his name, not a title or a nickname, but his actual name, he knows he won this round. But he does not tell her, he does not gloat, it's not about some challenge. It's about her, and that's all he wants out of this.
Thanks for reading! :)