It's not often that she has the house to herself–and as she looks around, she can't help but feel a little disappointed. The rest of the family has plans for the day–Robin and Mal are on a hike and Henry is spending the day sailing with Killian and Emma. Roland was invited to a friend's house for a playdate; and even Esme had plans to spend her day with Neal and the Charmings watching a children's play in the park and a toddler swim class at the community center afterward. Of course, they'd all extended invitations to her–to hike, to sail and to spend the afternoon at the park with the kids–but at the prospect to having a whole day to herself was tempting. Yet, now that it was here and she was actually all alone in the quiet house, all the promises and expectations of solace and relaxation seemed like glorified words for boredom–and she was never one to handle boredom well.
She finds herself in the bedroom, laying on her back her fingers lazily slip between her legs.
She lets out a breathy little sigh as two fingers press harder into her clit, rubbing in a circular motion.
It feels nice–really, it does–but she misses them.
She misses their hands exploring her, ghosting over her body as they pleasure her. She misses their lips on her skin–sucking and nipping and sending warm, tingling sensations over her skin.
Her lip catches between her teeth as one of her fingers slips inside of herself, and she imagines that the finger belongs to Mal–and a little grin tugs onto her lips as she considers it, drawing on her memories of how she'd start off slow, teasing her in the best possible way. She'd slip in a second, and maybe a third, letting them slowly pick up their pace, keeping her squirming and writhing and asking for more. And then, they'd curl, stroking that spot that would have her back arching up and have her gasping–and Robin's lips would be forced from her lips to her neck. He'd suck hard at her skin, letting his lips slide from her neck to her shoulder and then across her clavicle to the other side. He'd catch an earlobe between his teeth as his hands found her breast, squeezing as he kneaded the soft skin. She'd moan as her head fell back as Mal's fingers thursted in and out of her and Robin's lips dragged down to the spot between her breasts. He'd roll her her nipples between his fingers with just the right amount of pressure as Mal's fingers curled, massaging that spot that always felt so damn good–that spot that she could never quite reach on her own.
Her eyes open and she sighs in frustration, looking to the empty space beside her on the bed–she needs them, and their absence is absolute torture.
And then, she wonders if she can't use that to her advantage.
She brings herself to an unsatisfying finish, but it manages to take off some of the edge–and as she begins to set her plan in motion, she finds herself getting worked up again and the anticipation is almost too much for her to stand.
She doesn't remember when exactly, but there'd been a night early on in their relationship–maybe the third or fourth time they'd been together, still before they'd completely committed to anything more than just sex. They'd all been a tangles mess in her bed, trading kisses and coaxing out other fantasies they'd all had, and Robin and Mal both admitted to fantasizing about being dominated by the Evil Queen. Her brow had arched when Mal called it a missed opportunity and Robin confessed that the thought of it had kept him up after meeting her in the Enchanted Forest in the year they'd spent other before the second curse. There'd been a few laughs as they commented on those tight, tantalizing dress Regina wore in those days, the way her lips would curl as she sneered and the way her hips would sashay as she moved–and she scoffed at them. And then, after that night, none of it was ever mentioned again.
For the rest of her day, she loses herself in creating the fantasy–carefully applying thick makeup and styling in her hair in a way that's reminiscent of her days as queen, and choosing lingerie that fit the part.
She chooses a red leather corset that's laced with black ribbon and a satin black garter belt that matches the ribbon to hold up the lacy black stockings that come up past her knees. She chooses not to wear the bra, letting her breasts sit up atop the corset and a red lace thong that leave nothing to the imagination. Her feet sit in high heeled stilettos and she's wearing heavy jewelry–red stones set in black–that are reminiscent of the pieces she used to choose.
She takes a long breath as she hears the front door open and close–and she looks at herself in the mirror, her stomach fluttering with anticipation as she hears their voices nearing as they make their way upstairs, likely wanting a quick shower to refresh themselves. A coy smile edges onto her lips as she lifts a set of silk scarves from the bed, twirling them around her fingers and anticipation bubbles up within her, wanting them so badly that she's practically dripping as she thinks of all the things she wants to do to them.
"You're late," she growls as they reach the threshold of the bedroom door, halting as they take her in with wide eyes and slack jaws. A grin twists onto her lips as she struts toward them. "You know I don't like to be kept waiting," she says, her voice dropping an octave as her lips hover at Robin's and her hand ghosts over Mal's jaw as she looks to her with sultry eyes. "And now, you're going to pay."