Chapter 12
While Regina was in the shower, Emma brushed her hair out and put on some underwear before finally unpacking her suitcase. She felt very strange sliding open the glossy wooden doors and hanging up her dresses next to Regina's – the difference between their clothes was immediately obvious, and she forced down another wave of embarrassment. After the Diane von Furstenberg dress that she'd bought the week before, she hadn't had enough left from her allowance to buy anything anywhere near as nice. She'd have to be much smarter with her money next month.
She snorted to herself, wondering whether she would have believed someone if they'd told her three weeks ago that living off $10,000 a month would be a struggle. It was the stupidest fucking thing she'd ever heard.
She realised then that in spite of the frantic online shopping she'd done, she had no idea what she was planning to wear that evening. The very thought of picking something out made her want to lie face-down on the bed and scream. She pulled out one dress, eyeing it with a mixture of uncertainty and disgust, and then pushed it far back into the closet again. It settled next to her various pairs of skinny jeans and she looked longingly at them, wishing she'd chosen to date someone who lived in a world where women were actually allowed to wear pants to formal occasions.
Instead of selecting a fancy dress that she knew wouldn't suit her no matter what she did, it was far easier to pretend they didn't exist and skulk over to the vanity table. She sat down with a thump, wrapping her robe tighter around her, and pulled out her tatty collection of expired make-up.
Regina reappeared 10 minutes later wrapped in a towel, her hair tied into a short ponytail at the base of her neck. Emma hadn't made much progress in the way of getting ready: she was now just staring at her own face, which was wearing foundation but not much else, wondering what the next step was when she'd only just realised she didn't own any lipstick. The second Regina had stepped back into the room, however, her resolve to get dressed abandoned her entirely.
She could see the muscles in Regina's toned shoulders shifting as she moved. She swept around the room so easily, either not noticing Emma's eyes on her or simply not caring about them, and the mere sight of her dried Emma's mouth out completely. After pausing to untie her hair and shake out its residual flatness, Regina went to the closet and began to rifle through her clothes.
Emma swallowed before asking in a quiet voice, "What are you going to wear?"
Regina pulled out a grey shift dress and pursed her lips thoughtfully. "Probably this."
She tugged it free of its hanger and turned, draping it over the bed. There was something so effortless, so confident about the way she did it, and Emma felt her posture slump. A wave of homesickness that she'd never felt before washed over her.
"What about you?" Regina asked, and Emma looked up.
"What about me?"
A flicker of concern crossed Regina's face when she heard the flatness in Emma's voice. "What are you going to wear?"
Emma shrugged, then reached out for her make-up bag and started fiddling around with its contents. She had zero intention of putting any more on, but she needed to do something that would stop her from looking morosely back at Regina's confused reflection.
She heard movement behind her, and when she glanced up, she saw that Regina was looking through the other half of the closet. After a moment, she pulled out a black dress not too dissimilar to the one she'd selected for herself. "How about this?"
Emma just nodded, because it was the easiest thing to do. Regina carefully laid it down on the bed next to her own.
After a pause, she said, "I'm always surprised by the clothes that you buy. It's never what I would have imagined."
Preaching to the choir, Emma thought dully.
Regina disappeared back into the bathroom, leaving Emma to half-heartedly prod blusher onto her cheeks. When she returned, Emma dropped the brush she'd been holding.
Regina had gotten rid of her towel and was now standing in her underwear, her back to the mirror. Emma nearly choked at the sight of her, resplendent in a black push-up bra and matching lace panties. Not only was she the most beautiful woman Emma had ever seen in her life, but she was also glowing with confidence, so happy to stroll around like that without even thinking about how Emma might react to it. Emma shrunk down further into her robe and waited for the thumping in her chest to subside.
She watched as Regina bent over the bed, her stomach taut and her arms toned, and picked up the dress. When she'd pulled it on and turned back towards the mirror, Emma was desperately trying to look anywhere else.
Regina approached her, and Emma knew she was onto her. She kept her gaze lowered, her fingers fiddling with the make-up brush that she'd just picked back up, then jumped when she felt a hand curl over her shoulder.
"Do you want some help with that?"
Emma looked up and met Regina's gaze in the mirror. She didn't answer, because she couldn't formulate the words, but that didn't seem to bother Regina. Instead, she grabbed a stool and dragged it towards the vanity, sitting herself down next to Emma and swivelling her so they were face-to-face.
It was an exercise in torture. The mere feeling of Regina's bare knees touching her own made Emma go lightheaded, but then her hands were on her face, gently brushing eye shadow onto her and combing mascara through her lashes. At some point Emma realised that she didn't even recognise the products that were being dusted over her skin – Regina had dug into her own make-up bag and was using her lavish designer products on Emma's unpolished face. Emma swallowed, trying to stay as still as possible, and prayed that her palms would stop sweating soon.
When Regina was finished, Emma expected her to kiss her. She even leaned forwards. But Regina just threw her her usual wry smile and reached out to wipe a smudge of eyeliner from beneath her lashes. Then she got up, putting the chair back where she'd got it from, and called over her shoulder, "You need to get dressed. We're leaving in 15."
The chaos inside Emma's head didn't diminish at dinner. She found herself wedged between Regina and a burly, overconfident man called Raoul in a restaurant that was so dark and tiny it could only be for the very rich or the very poor. The food arrived on giant plates in minuscule portions, and Emma stopped drinking pretty quickly when she realised there wasn't going to be enough food to mop up the alcohol.
She felt marginally less nervous than she had done at the previous two events, but that was only because she was so distracted. And the reason she was distracted was because Regina wanted her to be.
As the chatter buzzed around the table, Regina lifted her hand and placed it against the back of Emma's neck, slowly rolling her thumb over the gigantic knot between her shoulders. When Emma leaned into it, Regina immediately pulled away, going back to her conversation with the man to her left. At one point she reached down and placed a hand on Emma's thigh, and Emma jumped so abruptly that she banged her knee against the table.
Emma groaned to herself and went back to talking with Raoul, breathing quickly to try and still her heartbeat. She listened to whatever he was saying like it was the most interesting thing in the world because it was far better to focus on that than on the wetness that was gradually pooling between her legs.
Eventually the conversation stopped being so split up between groups of two and three and instead spread across the entire party. Regina and Emma were the only women at a table of 10, but that didn't stop Regina from being the most commanding presence in the room. She often stayed quiet and let other people chat, Emma noticed, but when she calmly stepped in with her own opinion, everyone else stopped to listen, even if she'd cut directly over the top of someone else in order to say it.
Power seemed to radiate from her, and Emma felt another throb of longing.
"The problem with the Turner Prize," someone was saying, "is that it's always been too restrictive. You wouldn't think that was possible for an art prize, but it's true. Their decision to open it up to all ages was the first interesting thing they've done in decades."
"I agree," said another low, humming voice that Emma couldn't quite focus on. Regina's hand had slipped up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and her entire body shivered. "These artists like to pretend they're bucking the trend, but year after year it's the same old stuff."
"It's Emma, isn't it?" one of the men said, and Emma jumped. She looked up with a breezy smile that she hoped told them she'd been following every word. "You've been quiet on this. As someone who isn't directly involved in art, it would be interesting to hear your opinion."
Emma grimaced. Her opinion was that all modern art looked the same, and that all old art also looked the same but at least it looked like what it was supposed to look like.
But thankfully she knew enough from all her recent Googling to remember that the Turner Prize was a British art award. She wetted her lips, hoping she wasn't ruining the work that Regina had done with her Chanel lipstick.
"Well," she said, not entirely sure where she was planning to go with this. "I think I agree – whenever I see the shortlist, I always wonder whether I've seen those exact works before. They never look particularly new or exciting."
She felt Regina shift beside her, and she knew it was because she was trying not to laugh. Everyone else around the table was nodding thoughtfully, but Regina knew that Emma wouldn't recognise a Turner Prize nominee if they came up and bit her on the ass.
Still, she ploughed on. "But I think the biggest problem is that the shortlist never gets political enough. I mean, the world is falling to pieces and everyone has something to say about it, but if you look at the art world, the Turner Prize never goes to anyone who wants to make a statement about that."
There was a brief silence. Emma could feel herself starting to sweat because, honestly, she had no idea if that was true – it just sounded like the kind of opinion people had on stuff like this. Besides, she was pretty sure she'd scanned a New York Times article saying the exact same thing when she'd been making a half-hearted attempt to read some art-related material on her daily commute.
Then Raoul – suddenly Emma's new favourite person in the world – nodded and said, "I completely agree. They've been going with the safest choice for years. A pickled shark isn't going to change the world, now is it?"
A murmur of agreement began to spread before someone cut over the top of it with a firm rebuttal. Emma realised something then that she knew would get her through months and months of boring dinners just a little bit easier: it didn't actually matter what your opinion was, as long as you said it with enough conviction. Someone was always going argue with it just because they wanted to sound like they knew more about it anyway.
"Where the hell did that come from?" a voice muttered in her ear, and Emma turned to find Regina watching her.
She smiled awkwardly. "I was completely bullshitting. Did it work?"
The look that Regina gave her then was the softest, most delicate thing Emma had ever seen. She felt like she was being wrapped up in silk.
"It worked wonderfully," Regina said, her eyes falling to Emma's lips. After a pause, she turned away, going back to the table and leaving Emma feeling more breathless than ever.
Regina placed her hand on the small of Emma's back and guided her towards the car. Emma had barely drunk anything since they'd arrived at the restaurant, but she felt slightly wobbly. She suddenly couldn't be certain that it wasn't Regina's touch doing it to her.
The restaurant wasn't too far from the hotel, and the journey was a silent one. Regina had pulled out her cell phone the second she'd hit the leather seat and now she was scrolling through her emails, as she always did, her lips moving slightly as she flicked through the dozens of subject lines. The only difference was that tonight her hand was on Emma's thigh, resting perfectly still against her bare skin. Emma's breathing got shorter and shorter with every inch the car travelled, and she fought through the desperate urge to bounce her knees up and down. Clenching her hands in her lap, she looked out the window and counted to 10. To 20. By the time she reached 50, she still didn't feel any calmer.
Her frantic heartbeat was painful against her ribcage. She wasn't sure she could survive the anticipation much longer.
When the car pulled up outside the hotel, Regina stepped out without a word. Emma dumbly followed her. The pinch of Regina's waist was even more pronounced in the dress she was wearing and Emma went hot all over when she imagined peeling it off of her and grabbing hold of those hips with her own trembling hands.
They stepped into the empty elevator and Emma braced herself, but nothing happened – Regina just hit the button for the fifth floor and then stepped back, standing dangerously close to Emma but deliberately not touching her.
Emma swallowed, unable to stop herself from fidgeting. She reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and as she did so, she glanced to her left. She could see a minute smirk on Regina's lips, and her entire body went weak: she was enjoying every single second of this.
The elevator reached their floor and Regina walked out, not bothering to check whether Emma was following her. When she reached their room, she opened the door and headed inside to switch on the lights.
Emma's hand was shaking when she caught the door, then paused to push it shut behind them. She took a breath and turned back to the room.
Regina was there, barely a metre away, her gaze dark and her lips pouted. She looked like a storm getting ready to bear down on her. One quick step forward and they collided, Regina's hands reaching up to cup Emma's face as she pushed her backwards, attacking her mouth with her own and grinning when Emma gasped with surprise and relief.
Regina's entire body pinned Emma against the door as she kissed her, her hands straying from the sides of her face down to her breasts and then to her hips. Emma whimpered into her mouth, her legs shaking as she clutched hold of Regina's waist. She could taste the caramel dessert that Regina had eaten in the restaurant, and she pulled her even tighter against her.
Emma wasn't sure she'd ever been kissed like this before. People had kissed her because they wanted her, or because they desired her, but this was the first time she'd been kissed like someone needed her. She melted into it, her hands sliding up and hooking around the back of Regina's neck, and in a brief flash of clarity she realised that she wasn't surprised Regina kissed like this: she was the most demanding, most determined person Emma had ever met, and there was no way someone as tightly wound as her didn't come completely undone once the lights were dimmed and their clothes were coming off.
Just as Emma thought this, Regina pulled away from her and grabbed hold of her wrist, tugging her towards the bedroom. Emma didn't need to be persuaded – she stumbled along behind her with her body only inches away, like she couldn't bear to be apart from her for more than a second. As soon as they were in the next room, Regina was on top of her again, pushing her hard against the wall and burying her face in her neck. Emma let out a low whining noise that she wasn't sure she'd ever made before, but before she had time to be embarrassed, she felt a hand easing its way beneath the skirt of her dress. Her head thudded back against the wall when Regina's fingers stroked up the inside of her thigh.
"Is this okay?" Regina murmured as she started to nibble on her ear lobe. Emma's arms wound around her neck.
"Yes, yes," she breathed, and at once Regina's hand was cupping her pussy through her panties. The noise that Emma released was more animal than human, and Regina chuckled.
"Have you been thinking about this all night?" she asked.
"All week," Emma said, and she was already wriggling. Regina's fingers were completely still against her, and the feeling was so unsatisfying that she wanted to scream.
"Me too," Regina murmured, catching Emma's mouth with her own once more before adding, "You looked so beautiful in the dress you wore last weekend – it was nearly impossible not to fuck you against one of Gold's paintings."
Emma groaned. "Are you going to fuck me now?"
"Would you like me to?"
She'd barely finished the question before Emma blurted out, "Yes. Please."
Regina slipped her fingers beneath the fabric of Emma's panties and smirked when she felt the wetness that was waiting for her.
"Were you this wet at dinner?"
"Yes," Emma gasped as a finger began to leisurely circle her clit. "It was really distracting."
"I'm all too familiar with your pain," Regina purred, and the thought of Regina being wet like this – wet for her – nearly tipped Emma over the edge right there. She grabbed Regina by the back of her neck and pulled her in for another kiss, biting hard on her lower lip when she felt two fingers slide slowly inside her.
"Oh, fuck." Emma pulled away and murmured the words into Regina's shoulder, her muscles squeezing around her touch. Her high was building impossibly quickly and for a second she felt terrified – she could feel her heart pounding in every frazzled cell of her body, and it was too much, too fast, too overwhelming. But then her limbs were going loose, and fear gave way into the beginnings of bone-melting pleasure. All she wanted was for Regina to pin her harder against that wall and fuck her until her legs gave way completely.
When Regina reached between them and squeezed hard on Emma's breast, somehow seeking out her nipple through her dress, Emma came hard enough that Regina had to use her body to hold her upright. Emma's thighs were trembling as she waited for the stars to stop flashing up in front of her eyes.
Regina laughed as she pulled her fingers free, barely giving Emma a second to catch her breath before she tugged her towards the bed. Through her dizziness, Emma felt herself being pushed towards the centre of the mattress, and as soon as she collapsed back onto it, Regina climbed on top of her, pinning her against the sheets with a wicked smile on her face. Her fingers were sticky as they tightened around Emma's wrists, and the feeling made her pussy throb all over again.
Their dresses were too tight and their shoes were falling off, but Regina had a look of determination in her glittering eyes that told Emma nothing was going to stop her. She leaned in and caught Emma's bottom lip between her teeth, tugging gently and moaning when Emma lifted her head to kiss her back just as urgently.
When Regina let go of her wrists and laid herself down on top of her, Emma snaked her arms around her body and held her tight. Their legs tangled together and Regina automatically rolled her hips forward, grinding her pussy hard against Emma's thigh. Electricity pulsed through Emma's body and she arched her back, more desperate than ever to get closer to Regina's body. She sought out the zipper at the back of her dress and tugged it down, breathing hard when her fingertips skimmed over the hook of her bra.
Emma slid a hand deep inside the fabric and let it glide over Regina's back. She could feel the nodules of her ribcage shifting as she breathed, and it only made her want to dig her fingers in harder.
Then Regina's hand was back at the bottom of Emma's dress, tugging it upwards until it was settled around her hips. Emma's breath caught when those same fingers curled through the waistband of her panties and began to pull them down, only getting them to her mid-thigh before Regina got impatient and slipped her hand between Emma's legs.
Emma could have cried at the way Regina touched her – she traced the edges of her skin slowly, delicately, like she was worried about pushing her too far. She did it for long enough that Emma was left writhing beneath her, her hips bucking up to try and get more contact. When Regina chuckled in her ear, it sent a burst of hot, sharp desire flooding through her.
Regina's fingers slid back inside her, taking their time, before dragging back out again so slowly that all Emma could do was fist her free hand in the sheets and try not to scream. They plunged back in again and Emma didn't open her eyes, because she knew Regina was looking down at her, watching the way her face was contorting and silently pleading for more, and she didn't want to get lost in the sight of her when she was already enjoying being lost in what it felt like to have her inside of her.
Regina pulled her fingers free and began to slowly circle them over Emma's clit, pressing harder any time she went quiet and easing off when her breathy moans became more desperate. Emma could feel the sweat building up beneath her tight dress and she badly wanted to tear it off, but there was no way she was interrupting a single second of this. Regina's hands on her was everything she'd ever wanted and if she disturbed it, her body would never forgive her.
Regina propped herself up on one elbow, using most of her body to pin Emma down, and began to drive her fingers deep inside her, her thumb pressed against her clit. As she fucked her, Emma felt the delicate chain of her silver bracelet glancing off her skin, and that was all it took: the feeling of Regina's fingers buried inside her and the twinge of her jewellery hurting her in just the right way. She came with a cry, her head lifting off the bed, and Regina pushed her back down by pressing a hard kiss against her lips. Her fingers keep moving, slowly curving inside Emma's body, until a third orgasm was drawn out of her with a slow, throbbing intensity.
Emma reached down and pushed Regina's hand away from her, unsurprised by how delicate her pussy felt, and let her eyes snap open. Regina was looking down at her, not smirking for once but definitely looking quite pleased with herself.
Emma exhaled shakily.
"Wow," she said. "You really are good at what you do."
Regina laughed.
"That's one of the best reviews I've ever had," she said, crawling forwards and kissing Emma slowly and deeply. Emma lifted her hands to the loose fabric at the top of Regina's unzipped dress and began to peel it down.
When it reached her chest, Regina pulled away and sat back on her heels, doing the rest of the work by herself. Emma pushed herself up onto her elbows, unable to look away as the rest of Regina's body slowly came into view.
Regina threw the dress to the floor before reaching up to tousle her own hair. It was the sexiest thing Emma had ever seen, and before she could stop herself she was up on her knees, pulling Regina against her and letting her tongue delve deep into her mouth. Regina seemed to purr against her as she held onto the back of her neck, pressing her breasts hard against Emma's. Then the presence of Emma's dress got too infuriating for both of them, and Emma felt herself being pushed away again as two impatient hands started to seek out the zipper.
"Here," Emma breathed, lifting her arm and starting to pull at the metal tab that ran down the side. Regina reached out and snatched it from her. Her impatience would have made Emma laugh if the glint in her eye wasn't so intoxicating.
When the dress was unfastened, Regina reached for the bottom of it and tugged it up over Emma's head. Emma's panties were still located somewhere near the bottom of her thighs and she went to pull them back up again, but Regina slapped her hands away. "Take them off."
The commanding tone sent a tremor shooting down Emma's spine and she did as she was told, peeling them off and letting them drop to the floor. When she sat back up again, Regina's eyes were on her bra. "That too."
Nerves clawed at her, but they weren't strong enough to stop her. Emma reached behind her and unhooked her bra, keeping her eyes on Regina's face as she let it slip to the carpet.
Regina was unashamedly staring at her, her gaze dark and smoky with desire, and it filled Emma with thick reassurance that she hadn't realised she needed. Regina wetted her lips, then reached out for Emma's waist and tugged her back towards her.
They fell back down to the mattress with Emma on top. She pinned Regina against the sheets, sliding her fingers through her dark hair and dipping her tongue deeper into her mouth. She could feel Regina writhing beneath her, her hips lifting to try and meet Emma's, and being the one in charge for the first time since they'd met was intoxicating enough that Emma found herself having to catch her breath all over again.
She slowly moved her hands from the back of Regina's neck down to her wrists, bringing them up to the sides of her head and holding them firm against the sheets. Regina sighed, catching Emma's lip between her teeth, and lifted her hips once more. Emma's cunt was still wet and any time it grazed against Regina's lifted thigh, they both moaned.
Pushing herself upright, Emma straddled Regina's hips and reached underneath her to unhook her bra. As soon as her breasts came into view, Emma had to force back a whimper.
Throwing the bra that probably cost more than her weekly salary over her shoulder, Emma dipped her head and caught one of Regina's nipples in her mouth. At once, a pair of hands slid into her hair, holding her firm against her chest. Regina released a hiss of breath when Emma flicked out her tongue and dragged it over her warm skin, feeling her heart pounding beneath her lips. As her mouth worked, Emma's hand played with the other breast, gently tweaking and teasing until Regina's body felt like it was vibrating.
"Em-ma," she gasped, and the name sounded like a prayer coming from her lips.
Emma took the hint and pulled away, crawling down Regina's body and pressing kisses along every inch of exposed skin as she moved. She paused at the bottom of her ribcage, sucking hard and feeling a throb of pleasure when a dark bruise appeared. Regina's hands were back in her hair, holding her there, and she kept sucking and biting until Regina's sighs descended into a desperate moan.
She moved lower, dragging her nails along after her, until the tip of her nose brushed against the waistband of Regina's panties. She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling weirdly like she'd arrived at the gate to the promised land, and forced herself to pause and take a breath. Then she felt Regina shifting position below her, and she realised she was spreading her legs for her. At once, all her uncertainty was gone.
Curling her fingers through the fabric, Emma slowly pulled the panties away from Regina's body. She felt her skin prickle hot then cold as Regina wriggled, urging her on and silently pleading with her to go faster.
But Emma, for someone who had zero patience in day-to-day life, was determined to do this as slowly as possible. She dipped her head and pressed a kiss against the inside of Regina's thigh, then another, travelling higher and higher before moving across to the other side. Regina groaned and writhed, her hands fisting in the sheets beside her, and Emma grinned to herself, ignoring the frantic pounding in her chest and between her own legs as she moved.
Emma had been expecting Regina to grow impatient eventually. What she hadn't expected, however, was the softly pleading "Emma, please" that suddenly mewed from above her lowered head.
She looked up to find that Regina's chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathless frustration, and Emma realised then that she'd been right about her: Regina was far too highly strung to not come apart completely when she was beneath the sheets.
And so Emma did exactly what she was hoping for: she pressed her mouth hotly against her cunt, letting her tongue flick out and capture her wetness before dragging it slowly upwards. Regina gasped, lifting her hips automatically, and Emma pushed them back down again. Tightening her arms around Regina's thighs, she shifted closer, letting her eyes flutter shut as she licked and sucked and absorbed every single one of Regina's moans.
When Regina came, she didn't make a noise. Instead, her back arched off the bed and her thighs clamped around Emma's head, her muscles trembling furiously against her ears. Emma looked up and watched the way Regina's head had been thrown back, her mouth open and gasping and her eyes clenched shut. She was always stunning, but right then, she was the most beautiful thing Emma had ever seen.
The second she had come down from her high, Emma started all over again, sliding two of her fingers into her soaked cunt and shivering when Regina wailed into the crook of her arm. One hand slipped into Emma's hair and gripped hard, pulling her face flat against her wet skin. Emma moaned to herself, closing her eyes, and fucked her slowly, firmly, pouring every shred of determination she had into it.
Regina came again, and then again, and Emma only moved from between her legs at all because a hand pushed against her forehead and forced her to. She was grinning as she rolled away, still half-tangled between Regina's thighs with a hand scrunched up in her hair.
"Well," Regina said eventually, sounding breathless. "That was worth the wait."
Emma closed her eyes, laughing to herself. "You only had to wait three dates."
"I've been wanting to fuck you since the moment I saw you in that bookstore," Regina said, and she spoke so matter-of-factly that Emma couldn't help but blush.
"Really?"
"Don't sound so modest," Regina said, her fingers starting to move through Emma's hair. Emma shivered as they scratched against her scalp. "You know how pretty you are."
Emma hesitated before saying, "Maybe. You're still out of my league, though."
Regina laughed before finally disentangling herself from Emma's sprawled limbs. "Don't worry. I'm out of everybody's league."
She climbed off the bed, and Emma was ashamed to realise that she already missed her. As Regina strolled across the room, headed towards the bathroom, Emma couldn't help but roll onto her stomach so she could stare after her. The self-assuredness in her voice and the cockiness of her completely naked walk lit Emma up inside, and as soon as Regina was gone, she buried her face in the rumpled sheets.
You are so fucking screwed, she thought as the bathroom door clicked shut.
