AN: This chapter is in Regina's POV (because if there's one thing everyone loves, it's first person and changing pov's lol) and its pairings are Snow/Regina with hints at Emma/Regina and established Snow/Emma. It takes place a few weeks after the first chapter leaves off. I really debated if I even wanted to add to this, because I loved so much how it turned out as a one shot, and I knew I could never replicate that or write another chapter that was equal to it. Which, I didn't, but I tried lol. If I'm able to finish the third chapter it will be in Snow's POV. I love all the great and amazing reviews I've gotten on this story, especially considering its taboo nature. Thank you all so much and I'd love any future feedback and comments!

Warnings: There's obviously a lot of mentions of incest (emma/snow), and they're in an established relationship. A few mentions of rape. Nothing explicit.


Part II. The Infection

"She infects you, gets in your blood—under your skin, until you want to rip it right off of your bones. That's what loving her is like."


The only thing that matters is Henry.

When he's with me, it's easy to only see him. The sweet and innocent face that's looked up to me all his life, and there's so few suspicious glares anymore. So few hateful words, it's enough to warm my heart until it burns. We keep each other distracted and busy, and with so much purpose that I've forgotten how little I have to do with my time when he's not here.

I'm getting more anxious now, as the week with him ends, and he's packing up his things. I'm nervously cleaning and organizing around him, trying to keep my hands occupied so that I don't hold him and never let him leave.

The only thing that matters.

We're in the living room when I hear the knock on the door, and I know who it is. He's watching me now, because I'm watching the door, and we're both seeing if I'll let him leave, which shouldn't be a worry of his. And it shouldn't be a threat of mine.

So I smile over to him and tell him to grab his bag.

The only thing that matters is gaining Henry's trust.

I open the door and Snow is standing there with a smile, which I don't return, looking away as soon as I see her. Henry shrugs his coat and bag on, giving a chipper 'hi' to Snow and moving towards the porch steps. Though he stutters to a stop a few steps away from me, and after he pauses and considers his actions for a moment, he turns back around and awkwardly stumbles into hugging me. It takes me aback, but I'm quick to return it as casually as I can, this show of affection not happening since even before the curse was broken. I try to relax into the embrace, but my muscles are tense and any joy that the hug can bring me is overcome with the anxiety of having Snow witness this rare moment.

He releases me with a small smile that I try to focus on, despite her shadow casting over half his face.

"I'm proud of you." He says it in such a sweet and genuine way, and all it does is make me angry that he waited until now to say such a thing, not five minutes ago, but now. I smile back down at him, but even I feel my eye twitch when her voice filters through this moment she has no right to bring her darkness into.

"We're all proud of you, Regina." Snow says in her patronizingly sweet voice, and all the air is sucked from my lungs and I feel the vein in my forehead starting to pulse. My smile keeps as steady as it can as I focus only on Henry's green eyes. Trying to ignore another stolen happiness from me, even if it's more of a subtle taking.

Henry says goodbye once more, turning and jogging down the steps and towards her car. She stays next to me though, apparently thinking that I would do anything but kill her if she tries to say one more word to me. So I turn on my heels and go back inside the mansion, ignoring her saying my name as I slam the heavy wooden door in her face.

The action does nothing to satisfy my building rage, causing me to storm over to my bar. I look at the arraignment of bottles and glasses, trying to focus on a combination that would numb the ache in my head and kill my thoughts for just long enough to get through another day.

The only thing that matters is Henry. Gaining Henry's trust.

And it is so fucking infuriating because it isn't for the reasons that it should be—the reasons that I want to have him trust me. No, I'm only doing it so I can destroy Snow White, and not lose him in the process. How infuriating it is, because once again she has slithered her way into my brain, and just as before I'm infatuated with her destruction. She consumes me, taking over my actions and my thoughts, even thoughts of Henry are just overtaken by her face, and how much I wish it was only a bloody pulp under my fist.

My fists clench with my shifting thoughts, the rage building more and my arms reach out to the bar I'm standing in front of and push its contents on the floor violently with a strong and destructive swipe. Glass clashes on the floor along with the bottles and liquid splashing, leaving its wet and jagged destruction covering the area around me. My lungs finding its air and letting out a frustrated scream at the top of my lungs. Because I would rather die a thousand times over than have Snow White win. Just as she seems to do, a thousand times over.

Minutes and minutes pass, jagged breaths escaping my lips, but slowly they start to steady. My headache is getting worse, so I close my eyes and try to focus.

Henry is my rock, and my path to redemption. I know that, and I want that. I really do. It seems that path has its obstacles though, and Snow has become the biggest one. My relapse.

It's uglier than a simple addiction though, less of a want and more of an invasion. An infection.

There was a twenty eight year freedom from her, where I had killed her soul, killed her once and for all, but now she's looking at me like she loves me again, and I'm looking at her like I want to kill her. This cycle that never ends is going to find its end at my hands, just as my step daughter will. I just need to plant an infection of my own.


I know Emma feels guilt still about what she's doing with her mother. Something obviously as wrong as that can't simply disappear despite Snow's persuasion. So the best time to approach Emma is when she's most vulnerable, and the reasons for Snow to be at the police station so early, when it's her husband's day off, were limited. So, I wait outside, and just shy of a half an hour is when Snow strolls out of the front door, oblivious to me being parked a block away. The former princess makes a bee line to the diner, probably some breakfast to refuel. I can feel my teeth grinding and features twisting.

My stomach knotting.

And already I know I'm in a bad place, because I'm not torn up inside by what she's doing with her daughter. Not angry or obsessed over it because of their private sickness, or that I wanted to save Emma in any possible sense. This—This—was only because of Snow. Because she thinks she can do anything she wants. That she can just have everyone under her thumb—that she can still win—after everything

Focus.

I've been waiting weeks for the perfect opportunity to plant that seed of doubt, but after Snow picked up Henry the other day, my plans need to get a little rushed, if only for the sake of my sanity. Snow shouldn't be more than twenty minutes getting the food and coming back, and that's plenty of time to stroll into the sheriff's station with purpose. The click of pristine red heels was a stark contrast to the too tight black dress with a fitted black blazer that had a wide white trim. It was one of my more revealing outfits cut low and short, and completely inappropriate, but a part of me misses being out in the world with a purpose, and using my cloths as a method of intimidation. I didn't even realize I missed it so much until Emma catches sight of me right outside her office, her eyes going wide and jaw slacked from her seat at the desk. I smirk back at her as I open her office door to let myself in. Seduction isn't my intention, but any and every way that I can pull the savior away from Snow's grip, the better. Emma has a soft spot for me, and if I'm being completely honest, I suppose I have one for her as well. Similar features brings it out of the both of us. Her eyes linger just as Snow's did when she was young, and my mind has plotted the blonde's death numerous times as if instinct for her family name. I'm not naïve to the affect I have on her, but this is only about exposing the former princess for what she is; the real villain in this story.

"Sheriff Swan, hard at work?"

"Regina, what are you doing here?" She asks in hushed surprise, like I just snuck into her bedroom window while she was grounded. Her eyes skirting behind me to make sure I'm alone at least.

"Is that any way to greet a tax paying citizen?" I give her a warm smile and a light tone, walking up to her desk. "It's possible that I need to report a crime."

The nonchalance of the conversation does calm her a bit, letting her shoulders slump back into her bad posture as she gives a little chuckle.

"What, did someone steal the other half of your dress?" Emma jokes and looks at my body without being obvious, and she is always very subtle about her looks towards me. She's had a lot of practice. My steps bring me next to her, and I shift to sit on the edge of her desk, facing her.

"We both know the real crime would be covering up these legs." My legs cross for emphasis, feeling the dress ride up just a bit more. That makes the sheriff nervous, sight skirting once again to the entrance of the policed station, and moving her chair over so that there's a generous space between us.

"What do you want?" Emma mumbles and scribbling back on her paperwork, sentences so illegible, I doubt she's even writing real words.

"I've been feeling awfully hurt lately, Miss Swan. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were avoiding me."

"I'm not. I've just been busy." She's still not looking at me.

"I have quite an idea of what's been occupying your time, but I miss our little chats at my mansion." I continue, voice light but the insinuation is heavy. "When you confess your sins and I don't judge, I simply give all I have in helping you with your problem. That's the reason why Snow's been playing middle man to us." Emma looks at me then, but I pretend to be picking at my nails. "She doesn't want you to remember why you came to me in the first place. All that shame and guilt—" A sigh breaks my sentence, then pinning the sheriff down with my knowing stare. "You told me you saw that darkness in her, just like I did."

Emma shakes her head in denial, almost immediately. Almost. Then she stands but doesn't walk away, her hands on her hips for emphasis.

"I was wrong, and so are you. She loves me."

"She fucks you." My voice is sharp and carries a hint of disgust in it, eyes scanning over her none too subtly. "You reek of it."

The blush burns on her cheeks instantly and moves right down her neck, Emma's pale skin making it shine so bright.

"Get off my desk."

Ah, the desk. Of course.

I smirk and look down at my hands that spread out along its surface, my fingers gripping the edge and leaning back just slightly. I look up at her through my eyelashes.

"There's been a lot of getting off on this desk, hasn't there?"

She swallows so hard, I can practically hear it.

"At this rate, Charming is going to find out on his own." The sheriff scoffs and finally looks away, crossing her arms over her chest. "Or…does he already know? Are they tag teaming this special brand of parenting?" Just the thought makes me nauseous, but I say it with curious sort of glee as if we're just girls gossiping about trivial things.

"He doesn't know, and it's none of your business either way." She snaps, starting to get angry and defensive so I immediately soften into a more sincere demeanor.

"I only want to make sure that you're being careful. I can't trust Snow's word."

Emma's eyes narrow suspiciously at that.

"Careful? Like, so we don't get caught?"

"Yes. So my son who lives there half the time doesn't catch you." My sincerity turns to a tight and cold tone, because just mentioning him in this whole equation makes me want to destroy something. And just like that, the defensiveness comes back in her voice, because of course there's no fault of hers in any of this. She gets that from Snow.

"We would never do anything with him in the house. That should go without saying."

"You not fucking your mother should go without saying." I argue with a sneer and a sharp voice, about to lose my temper. Just thinking about how ridiculous and wrong this whole thing is, this thing that we're having a casual conversation about, it's enough to drive me right over the edge. Emma sees it too, so she's rolling her eyes and walking around her desk and moving towards the door to leave.

"Nice chat, Regina—"

"You think I don't understand, but that's not the case, Emma." My voice is terribly vulnerable now, trying to hold in the anger and shifting so quickly to something more kind. It just makes me sound broken, but it's enough to make her pause in her retreat. "A doting husband and a town adoring of her, and it's still not enough control." With a sigh, I hop off the desk and straighten out my dress, looking up to see her watching me curiously. "She wants everything, so she uses your emotions against you. She was with me for the same reasons."

It was a doting father and a kingdom when I was with her, but nothing ever changes, least of all her. I can tell right away that Emma isn't surprised at the confession, and thinking about Snow telling her daughter about her and I makes me nauseous again.

"I know you two had a history, she told me—"

"She told you." I interrupt, repeating her words sarcastically and with a shake of my head. "Let me guess? Just enough to keep you from asking questions? Her teary eyed and vague, and you comforting her any way you could?" Emma looks away with a tense jaw. "She infects you, gets in your blood—under your skin, until you want to rip it right off of your bones. That's what loving her is like." She looks back at me then, her eyes narrowing with both confusion and realization crossing her features.

"You loved her?"

I hesitate, caught off guard by the question, getting lost in my own brand of suffering, because her denial of what's happening is making me get a little too honest with my words.

"I know you love her." It deflect her focus, the soft tone causing shame to rise in her eyes again. "Try to say no to her, Emma. Stand up to her, do something she doesn't want, and you'll see." The sound of Snow coming back into the station echoes loud in the quiet that settles between the two of us, Emma glancing over nervously, but too stubborn to break away from me completely, because it would just prove her submission all the more. So, I take a few steps closer to her. "You'll see how quick her love for you turns into a punishment." I hear Snow stop walking and then she calls out Emma's name, trying to make it sound worried, but all it sounds like is a warning.

"You're lying." The sheriff snaps, and starts to turn away from me, until I grip her upper arm hard enough to thwart her escape, having her jerk back and angry eyes look at my cold ones, ready for a fight.

"You know I'm not." Is all I say, very seriously. No hint of anything but truth in my voice, and her eyes scan my face for a lie, surprised when she doesn't find it. Then I see it for a moment, a bit of that fog that Snow has clouded her mind with—I see it break and scatter and there's a clear minded and sharp sight of the woman I first met a year ago. Emma Swan comes back, because if I'm not lying, that means Snow really is using her.

Apparently though, the idea of that, faced with the consequence that involves losing her mother again is not something she wants to face. So just as quickly as it clears, her eyes flicker to the side, considering Snow, and it clouds all over again like a blizzard. I bite my tongue to keep from cursing or throwing a stapler, or grabbing the sheriff's gun and emptying it into that damned infuriating princess.

Instead I turn around and face Snow with a smirk to match her glare, casually strolling back out of the station and out to my car.


I expect her tonight, and she doesn't disappoint. Though, I expect her to knock like a civil person and not just let herself into my home, but I suppose that's my own misjudgments. She is a bandit with control issues, after all. The hairs on the back of my neck raise when I hear her enter the parlor that I'm standing in, turned towards the bar and pouring some new whiskey into an empty coffee mug.

"Breaking and entering is a crime, you know." I say, casually.

"Good thing I have an in with the police force." Snow retorts, making me turn around towards her, cup in hand and a sneer on my face.

"A gross understatement."

The former princess looks down at my coffee mug, then lower to the small garbage can next to the bar that is filled still with broken glass. She takes in the sight while I take in a generous drink.

"Emma told me what you said to her at the station." I expected as much, which was certainly half of its purpose, to make her nervous, bring her here so that I can shake some more cards out of her hands. "Of course your perception of things are as slanted as always." My eyes roll at her annoyed tone. Surely that's why I brought down destruction and curses on her head. Simple misunderstandings of perception.

"And you told Emma about us?" I ask casually, taking another sip from my coffee mug.

"Of course."

"And what was your perception? Did you tell her I raped you?" Her eyes narrow at my nonchalance, my completely uninterested tone at such a subject that means so much leverage for her. I won't let her use it though. "That you were nothing but an innocent and sweet girl that didn't know any better, and the big bad evil queen—"

"Don't try to turn my daughter against me. You'll regret it if you do." Snow threatens, interrupting me with a sharp and angry tone. Actually losing her temper before me, that's rare. So I tsk lightly at her for it, enjoying the small win.

"Careful with that leash, Snow. You'll end up strangling your pet."

"I don't own her. But her and I agreed that I would deal with this issue between us." She softens then, features and tone taking on that false compassion. "I still consider you my family, after all."

"Oh spare me your hope speeches of family bonding." I snap, not in any kind of mood for that hypocrisy, as I set my cup on the bar before turning back on her with a pointed finger and showing her how transparent she really is. "You know Emma would fold for me within minutes, that's why you keep her away. She's your weak link."

"Why, Regina?" Snow exclaims exasperated and pleading. "Why can't we let past be past?"

It's my turn to lose my temper now.

"I will never let you win." I growl through gritted teeth, taking a threatening step towards her. A long moment of tense silence swells between us until Snow looks down and shakes her head, so I step away and across the room for some distance before I do something I regret.

We're quiet for a while after that, and I want to kick her out, but at the same time I don't want her to leave. There's a small part of me that can't deny her presence gives me purpose as well. Not a healthy purpose that I should ever have, but I have it none the less.

"Then, can I at least get a drink? That is, if you have a coffee mug to spare." She asks suddenly, her voice much lighter than the situation calls for.

My eyes narrow at her because her intentions aren't well hidden, and it reeks of a desperate play, so I have to keep myself from laughing in her face. I really didn't expect this to be so easy. There's a moment that I consider digging out my '#1 Mom' cup from years ago for the irony of it, but the thought of her lips touching anything of mine makes me change my mind.

"Nice try." A sneer rises on my lips. "I know what drinks lead too."

Snow ignores my rejection, moving casually through the room and over to the bar. My eyes are on her like a hawk.

"Are you referring to the wine you gave me when I was 16?" She picks up the newly purchased bottle of whiskey, examining its half full contents.

"I caught you stealing it, there's a difference." My tone is quiet and suspicious, narrowing my sight on her nonchalance.

"I didn't mean the first time." Snow opens the cap and smells it hesitantly, making a face and then putting the bottle down again. "You gave me quite a lot of wine that year."

She's being as transparent as glass and it's burning at me, making me want to break her in a million pieces and toss her in the garbage with the rest of the things I've broken this week.

"This isn't going to work, so go and whore yourself to someone else." I snap in a particularly degrading tone, expecting to get a rise because she doesn't like to be talked down to. That royal blood in her. Instead she only sighs and turns towards me, and I see her transparency starts to grow a shadow behind it, walking with her as she steps towards me.

"I didn't come here just to fight with you, Regina. And I think there's a reason why you haven't kicked me out yet."

"Your desperation is entertaining." My scoff covers the discomfort at her standing in front of me now, but I'm too stubborn to take any steps back.

"You can't say that no part of you misses me." She is so sure of it when she makes that claim, so I give her a dark smile in return.

"Why say it when I'm going to have it engraved on your tombstone?"

"If you don't miss me, I know you miss the control." My jabs do nothing to thwart her, as she reaches up to brush her hand along my jaw, but I'm quick and rough when I grab her wrist in mid-air, because the audacity of it.

"You don't know anything." My voice is nothing but a low growl now, but the grip I have on her arm opens up my defensive stance and she takes another step closer to me because of it. All pouty lipped and looking like sin and innocence all at once. If I was anyone else, the sight alone would bring me to my knees.

"You think I don't know you?" Snow whispers, so close that I feel her breath hit my cheek. "You think I don't know what's driving you mad, being locked away in this house?" The sincerity of her tone makes my anger falter slightly. "Ever since the curse broke you've been powerless in a lot of ways, and sometimes I can't stand how they all look to me to solve every little problem they have. Maybe we both need a little bit of a compromise." As it stands the tension between us is so thick and taught it makes it hard to breath, and her eyes are open and full of the kind of truth that might not be completely fabricated. "You need some control, and I need to be the one to give it to you." But then the seduction is back in her voice, not because she actually wants me, but because she wants me to want her.

I know her too, and I know how her submission works. I know the price of controlling her body—the exchange of power. She gets control of my mind.

There's a steep price, but an enticing offer. One I always have a hard time refusing, and at the moment I'm at my lowest. I've had no control over anything for far too long, having everything I had being taken away so quickly, and it's making me feel unraveled. Snow does know me, and she uses it just like always.

"Does Emma know you're here?" I ask suddenly, bringing a spark in her eyes, not missing a beat.

"No. I imagine she'd be devastated to find out." There's a shadow of a smile on her face at that, and it burns my blood all the more. All this is just some child's game to her, just like everything is to her. Anything that suits her fancy, anything that gives her control over the people around her. It's the royal blood in her, it makes her look at people more like objects to own.

All I have to do is say no. To just be strong enough to say no to her.

It infuriates me.

Boils my blood.

Because she's pulling at my insides with the look on her face, as I pull her by the grip I have on her arm, crashing our lips together.

The kiss is violent and undone, the tension snapping and breaking against the force of it. She keeps my pace, urges me on, making it feel like a led weight lifting from my chest. She tastes just like how I remember, and I hate her for it. With as many lies she has spoken, her mouth should taste like poison. Snow wraps her arms around my neck as I pull her into me, our bodies flush and minds dizzied with the passion behind the kiss. I break away to breath, looking down to her blouse and when I start to unbutton it without hesitation, I realize that there's no going back now.

"How long has it been?" She breathlessly asks, as if she doesn't remember.

"Not long enough." I grind the words out through a clenched jaw and kiss her again so that she would shut up, the soft feeling of her skin being exposed more with every button being undone. I break away only to let my eyes linger on the swell of her breasts, perfectly held by the blue lace of her bra. I want to tear her apart, starting with that bra.

"Not since before you poisoned me." Snow continues, as if we're just reminiscing about the good old days. My mouth pushes against her ear.

"I should've just cut your throat." Then I trace the trail my dagger should have taken with my tongue and teeth, nipping and sucking at her gently.

"I was starving." I feel the words vibrate against my lips, and it makes me slow my movements, getting myself distracted by her. "My hunting skills were still something to be desired, and food was scarce everywhere." Snow doesn't need to recant the memory, I remember it. "I didn't have a choice, so I came back to the castle…spent a week in your bed and you gave me enough food to feed an army."

She had passed out when I found her, in the upper halls of the castle and I thought the gods were being kind enough to bestow a gift. But it was an empty meaningless gift that left me lacking satisfaction. There was a difference between ending a life yourself and having someone do it for you. I learned that with the huntsman. Snow pulled at my sentimentality just long enough to gain her strength back, then she was a bandit once more. Her hunting skills never did surpass her skills for manipulation. I've stilled completely, taking a steadying breath before moving back to face her.

"I've missed you." She says oh so seriously, with her doe eyes and bated breath. It makes me sick and angry, thinking that she was probably rehearsing those words in the mirror, probably about to say the same thing to Emma when she gets home. I've missed you. I love you. No one makes me feel the way you do. I grip her shoulders and turn her around so I don't have to look at her infuriating face. My mouth moves behind her ear, and Snow leans against the feeling while I continue unbuttoning her blouse.

"You think a few well-placed words and your body is enough to beat me?" I whisper in a harsh tone. "That this is going to stop me from getting to Emma? She's going to see that you're only using her, that using people is the only thing you know how to do."

As I'm pulling her blouse off of her shoulders, I think about burning her cloths so she has nothing to wear home but her shame.

"You have to admit," Snow starts with a hum and a playful voice. "A part of you hates it because you're jealous of her."

My laugh is rough and distracted because my hands are busy moving along the waistband of her pants.

"You're insane." I don't even want to dignify that with an actual response.

"It was the same way with David," She continues none the less. "You would do anything—go to any lengths—to keep me apart from him."

My hand is quick and rough, wrapping fingers around her neck and pulling her back against me. She tenses slightly against the action.

"Because you don't deserve to be happy with anyone." I growl into her ear, my grip on her tightening. Snow is silent for a moment before responding quietly;

"Only miserable with you."

She's wrong. I don't want her with me either. I want her gone and forgotten, no part of her lingering inside me. I should've just used the memory spell on myself, instead of making it for Emma. If being with me is the only way she's miserable though, I'll take what I can get. At least for tonight.

My hands slide around the curve of her hips, undoing the button on her jeans, and opening it up enough so my hand can slide in and underneath the material of her underwear, my eyes closing at how wet she is and breath stopping when I hear her shuddering exhale at the feeling.

"Poor Snow White…" A single finger moves through her folds and finds her clit easily, her reacting to me so easily, as if no time has passed at all. Whimpering and bowing her back against me, pushing her hips into my hand. "So miserable, aren't you?"

Snow's hand reaches behind her to run through my hair, moaning at my movements between her legs, and when she speaks I hear the smile in her voice.

"You have no idea."

My lips find their place on the spot between her neck and shoulder, a free hand of mine moving between us to undo the clasp of her bra. As it falls the floor and she moves to the fluidity of my finger's rhythm, I feel like every part of me is wrapping around her like curls of smoke, twisting and facing her again then turning and leading us to my bed, peeling off the last of her cloths. Her jeans and underwear are pulled down her legs in one motion, then she bends over the edge of the bed with the force of my hand smacking at the newly exposed skin. She cries out at the shock of it, and I wonder how many times I can do it before she cries out at the pain of it alone. It's only an idle thought, but her hands are gripping at the white sheets, surprising me by asking for more. Wanting a punishment I'm sure she doesn't believe she deserves, but that makes a part of me want to punish her all the more. Her begging for it isn't helping me keep my frustration under control. I let it out on her, gripping her hair and pushing her farther down against my sheets, and I tell her what I always tell her;

"If you tell me to stop, I will."

She never does though, leaving her back side sore and marked with a deep red, and my hand ached from the force. Both of us are out of breath, but she takes everything I have and more, she takes it and pulls it out of me until I feel an emptiness inside my chest. My hands run over the back of her shaking thighs gently, lifting them to help her on the bed fully. Snow moves onto her side, to watch me unzip the back of my dress and letting it pool at my feet, and the sight has her sighing in a dreamy sort of way, while I crawl onto the bed to be next to her.

"You're just as beautiful as when I first met you."

My eyebrows knit at her intended compliment.

"No, I'm not." I say, pushing her onto her back and straddling her hips, making her she cringe and let out a hiss of air at the pressure on her abused backside. "I'm not at all like I was when you first met me." My hands grip her forearms and pin her down without any resistance, kissing her as my hips grind down on hers, pushing her back against the mattress even more and she whimpers a bit from the pain.

Snow gets used to it though, pushing back into me, and I adjust to press a thigh against her, getting dizzy at how aroused she feels, soaking into my skin. She tells me that she needs me, and fingers replace my thigh as the first formation of the words fall from her lips. Her hands keep her grounded while she grips steadily at my mattress with one, and my keeps hold of my shoulder with another, making sure I don't move too far away from her. The way she's clenching against my finger, sliding against my thumb, and rocking her hips to their pace, it's making me never want to leave. I'm leaning on one arm that's next to her head, so I brush the bangs from her eyes, strands of her hair already sticking to her face from sweat, and every sound she makes is more beautiful than the last, giving a moan when I push a second finger inside her. It's quick after that though, that she's gasping out that she wants another, even though she's tight with two, but I move slow and try for three. There's a sharp look of pain on her face, so I stop moving.

"Don't stop." Snow whispers, looking at the ceiling, but I stay still regardless, so she starts to move her hips against my hand, gasping sharply at every thrust.

Once I feel her adjust more, I move with her.

"Harder." She orders, but I only go slower.

"Why do you want me to hurt you?" I whisper, because I know her more than I'd like, and I see through her more than I actually see her.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" She says back, looking at me with half closed and unfocused eyes, making my mind go blank. "All those—" She shifts her hips and takes a moment to get her breath back from the sensation. "All those threats of my pain and destruction."

"Not like this." This isn't supposed to be about punishing her, it's only supposed to be about gaining back a little control. I feel as lost as ever though.

"Like what then?" She laughs, and it cracks against her dry voice. I start to move my hand away from her, but as soon as I do, she grabs my wrist and keeps me in place, locking eyes with me. "This is as close to it as you're ever going to get." Snow gives the arrogant jab with a half smirk, before moving fingers in my hair and gripping hard to pull me into a dizzying kiss. It does make me angry, her thinking she's so protected, so safe that I'd never be able to reach her outside of this bed. So I kiss her back and curve the fingers inside her just slightly, feeling her moan against my mouth at the action.

My lips move down to kiss at her neck, giving her opportunity to whisper in my ear. This time it's more begging than demanding.

"Harder."

My teeth sink into her neck and fingers gain back its rhythm, feeling a new rush of arousal on my hand. She cries out at the sensation, but holds me closer to her all the same. Wanting this pain that I'm giving her, despite my hesitance. Knowing her though, it's probably because of it.

I leave more marks on her, lips scorching their way down her chest, sucking and biting, each one harder than the last, and each time her hips move faster. Snow starts murmuring my name in this beautiful and distant sort of chant, calling out for me in a way that it feels like it's the only word she knows.

She gasps suddenly as I'm pulling a nipple roughly between my teeth, my other hand dragging nails roughly down her back. My eyes open to her body starting to shake from a coming orgasm that I know it will only take the smallest push to get there. My mind starts to simplify in the haze of our passion. Starts to break things down in pure urges and instincts, in the feeling of it and the sound of it, in what's hers and what's—

"Mine." I whisper against her chest. "You're mine."

Snow falls absolutely apart underneath me, as if every part of her is unraveling, starting with her throat as she cries out just for it to dwindle into a long groan. Her arched back and the waves of climax that I can feel against my hand has me closing my eyes with an ear to her breast bone, listening to the rapid beats of her heart that are pumping only for me. At least for tonight.

After a few long moments of still settling between us, I take my fingers away from her, making her whimper at the loss, but then she's moaning again when they move inside her mouth. Snow tastes herself with enthusiasm, and I feel the arousal in my lower stomach pull even harder. She'll be lucky if I let her even leave by morning, with how perfectly she fits under me and against my bed. As soon as she can focus enough on me, I kiss her and I taste her and I smell her—she's engulfing every sense I have and it makes me feel drunk.

Our lips break apart slightly, sharing a breath before I'm moving back more to focus my eyes on her face. No one could ever deny her beauty, not even me, so I just bask in it for a moment. Finding a single thing about her that I don't despise, and that's the way she's looking at me in this moment.

"Yours."

I don't expect her to say that, but mostly I don't expect the sudden vulnerability of her tone. My mind searches for a meaning to it, until I realize that it's an answer to my words that I didn't mean. They weren't true, despite how tempting the thought is in the heat of the moment. She has never been mine. Still my sight meets hers, those wide green eyes doing an expert job of tearing apart my insides as always, my heart, my head, and my lungs being ripped to shreds and bleeding out. Any plans to focus on anything else are forgotten now with a ragged breath and an aching chest, her look dragging my mind back to our castle and wrapped in her sheets just as she's wrapped in mine. Snow would tell me that she loved me since the first moment she saw me, and I would barely even remember such a time. It was just about getting through the next moment, and then the next day, and it was easier to do when I was in Snow's bed. Drunk on wine and ivory skin. Drunk on the pain of her wide green eyes tearing apart my insides.

My eyes close tightly to get the images out of my head, but it only intensifies them. Her fingertips run along my temple and into my hair gently, carrying the rush of memories with them.

It was a yearlong affair, infecting me and having my mind poisoned by her. I didn't realize how deep I was in until all my fantasies of killing the King involved her by my side. She was her father's pet, always at his side and never allowed much freedom of her own, it was because of that, because I recognized the hidden misery in her eyes as my own, that I thought she'd want me more than she wanted her own blood. I was wrong though.

Her loyalty was with him and never me, never understanding how such a good man, such a giving and generous man would have such an ungrateful wife. She left me to his punishment, and that was all it took for my fantasies to turn into killing the King with her by his side.

Snow would tell me that she loved me. She said it like a prayer, over and over again. I know now that's not what love is. It's not pain, or control.

I know that now.

This girl has dragged my mind down to hell and back in the short time of a few hours. Making me doubt myself and my place, making me ready to fall right back into her and stay there until she's bored of me. She's trying to get under my skin and now all I want to do is rip it right off my bones. I won't let her though, not this time. I won't fall for this again.

My body shifts away from her rather suddenly, not wanting anymore of her thoughts in my head. Moving away from her in bed without a glance back and standing to walk over to my closet, grabbing a robe because now I'm just cold all over.

"So I'm guessing we won't be cuddling in the afterglow?" She asks, not at all surprised, leaning up on her elbows.

"I have no disillusioned sense of you, dear." The cold is settling deeper, and an emptiness that she leaves in her wake is starting to grow. It's hard to look at her now, naked but not a bit vulnerable, green eyes dissecting my every move. "This was just me fucking you, and I hope you enjoyed it because you're going to have to beg on your knees to convince me not to tell anyone about this." I take some steps back over to the bed, giving a smirk that I don't feel. "Especially Emma."

Snow gives a mock show of consideration.

"Maybe you should tell Emma." I falter at that, watching her move off the bed as well to stand in front of me. "Even David, if you'd like. I could help by giving them the proof." My eyes narrow with suspicion and a growing anger. "The scratch marks and bruises, the way I won't be able to walk straight for a week." She moves her hands over the physical signs of our violence. Fingers along her neck tracing red lines and darkened patches of skin. "You really did a number on your own step-daughter."

"You kept pushing me to be rough." I try to defend, but realize how stupid I sound as I say it, because of course she did. Of course.

"I didn't have to push that hard." She points out her voice whispering and patronizing, and my hands make fists, wanting to snap her neck, or burn her alive, but it would ultimately only make her die a hero and leave me to die for the crime of her murder.

"You're going to tell them that I raped you? Really, Snow?" I snap with eyes full of red, not keeping a reign on my anger. "That's something you would've done a long time ago, if you were going to do it at all."

Her face twists in anger as well, her voice sharp and it takes me aback slightly.

"I didn't have a daughter a long time ago, and you don't have a single idea what I would do to protect my relationship with her." Snow takes a step towards me, but I don't budge. "You should understand my conviction more than anyone, because you're a mother to Henry, and all you want is to be with him again." My mouth opens, ready to shut her down for even mentioning his name to me, ever. She's not done with me yet though. "And all he wants is for you to be a better person, but I already have bruises to prove that you'll never change. I just have to let anyone see me in this state, and you'd never see the outside of a cell…at the very best." She finishes, and I stay silent, weighing my options and not trusting my own voice to respond, my breathing is fast and hard though. Snow takes the silence as a victory, of course, so her features soften, scanning my face for something she doesn't see.

"The only thing I wanted was for you and I to be a family," I look away from her because the emotions in her eyes will only hurt. "And you turned me away every chance you could. Past is past though, and I'm done fighting you. Understand?"

Well. I did know the price of her submission, and now I'm paying it. I shouldn't even be angry at her for it, even though I am anyway. It's not a defeat though, it's a sloppy blackmail, and it's only an obstacle. I still have chips in on this bet. Our give and take of control that happened in my bed ended up letting me take more power than she intended to give, because her eyes are full of victory. I always learned the hard way that celebrating a win you haven't earned only brings bad consequences. My rising smirk is dark.

"I hate you."

"So, is that Regina speak for a stand still between us? I don't want to check up on everything you do, because it can be exhausting." Her tone is all nonchalance, but as Snow raises her hand to trace fingertips along my jaw, it's a hesitant action and one that is fearful of my unpredictable temper. I give her nothing though, not reacting to the touch despite my urge to cringe. That victory is back in her green eyes, along with a small smile. "There are benefits to behaving, Regina."

She sounds just like her father.

It makes me lean in and kiss her, catching her off guard, not so much with the kiss, but with the soft tenderness that's behind it, taking her lips in mine with slow and dizzying intent. I've never kissed her like it before, but the last night of King Leopold's life, I kissed him just like this.

A kiss of death.

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