Author Note: Not really sure if this is any good, but I had the first scene done ages ago and I felt kinda bad that I hadn't updated in a while, which made me quickly hash out the second. It's what I want to happen, rest assured, I just hope it's as decent as I think it is.
Regina hummed as she strolled through the corridors, finally free from court. She had at least an hour to spare before Rumple came looking, and she planned to put her time to good use. There was a certain blonde in need of harassment, which she was more than happy to provide.
Stepping into their room, she stood at the full-length mirror and examined her outfit. Almost a week had passed since Emma had set Henry on her. No amount of revenge would ever be enough to erase all the questions he'd asked. Why do they enter our dreams? / What desires do they feed on? / They're sex demons?! Emma needed to pay—though admittedly, that last one had her chuckling to herself in private.
She clicked her tongue at her reflection and raised a hand, flicking her wrist. If Emma's confession at the farmhouse held any truth, then a week with little more than a kiss in passing had to be taking a toll. The dress she'd chosen for court wasn't anywhere close to revealing enough, but this next would do.
Satisfied with her new look, and the added cleavage on display, she left the bedroom and made her way to the Barracks. Sensing the attention on her the second she was outside, she smirked to herself. If her plan backfired, Emma had a jealous streak that would put her former self to shame.
Silver linings, and all that.
When she reached the training yard, she came to a sudden halt. Emma and Killian were in the midst of a duel, and from her vantage point, she could see the muscles flex in her lover's bicep. Her mouth dried and she silently cursed her luck as her pulse started to race, rethinking that perhaps a week without sex wasn't her best idea after all.
Mesmerized, she glided over to the fence surrounding the yard and leaned over it. It was almost magical how her body responded to even the smallest reminder of Emma's strength. She knew the comfort of those arms—their power, and she longed to have them wrapped around her, one hand in her hair while the other gripped her hip.
A whine bubbled in her throat. She was weak—pathetic. She came to teach Emma a lesson and instead, she was stood there pining for the blonde. What in damnation was I thinking? She was punishing herself by denying Emma intimacy and the ache building between her legs was most definitely not worth the hassle.
"Hey gorgeous." Startled from her self-inflicted torture, Regina groaned as her eyes snapped up. From a distance, she couldn't see the sweat, but now—
"Sweet Jesus," she breathed. She reached out and grabbed Emma by the shirt, crashing their mouths together.
Twin moans filled the air and she tried to pull Emma closer, growling as the fence between them prevented her from doing so. Breaking the kiss, she waved her hand and, as they appeared in their bedchamber, Emma grinned.
"Don't even think about it," Regina warned.
The grin widened. "I have no idea what you're talking about," Emma replied.
"Mhmm," Regina hummed, doubtful as she pressed a hand against her chest and shoved. Emma fell to the bed, lower lip disappearing between teeth as darkening, emerald eyes raked down her body.
Regina allowed her a few seconds to take in the dress and then waved her hand once more, ridding them both of their clothes. Even as she beckoned to her, Emma pouted. "You should wear that more often," she said, her returning grin sly as she added, "It would have worked."
"I thought you didn't know what I was talking about," Regina countered as she crawled on to the bed and straddled her hips.
Emma chuckled. "I lied."
Smiling, Regina stroked her arms as she leaned forward and seized her lips. She hummed into the kiss, feeling herself slicken as Emma squeezed her hips. Rough hands caressed her sides, fingers trailing along her ribs as their tongues met. There was no denying she missed it. Emma had a way of making her feel as though she were the only person in the world who mattered. It was an addictive feeling, and one she wasn't sure how she survived a week without.
Hands palmed her breasts, and Regina moaned as fingers kneaded supple flesh. Needing more, she rolled her hips and broke the kiss with a gasp as stomach muscles flexed and rubbed against her folds. She was ravenous, impatient as she thrust a hand between her legs to play with her clit.
Emma frowned but as her gaze dropped to watch, Regina could see the hunger overwhelm what little annoyance she felt at not being the one to touch her. Regina rose to her knees and spread herself wider, one hand holding her open as she stroked her slit. Emma released her breasts, fingers teasing her flesh as they descended her body and she moaned, bucking as nails left a burning trail along her hips and sank into the cheeks of her ass.
With little urging, she shuffled forward on her knees and threw her head back as Emma pulled her down on to a waiting mouth. She cupped her breasts, tugging her nipples as Emma dove right in, licking and sucking the juices from her folds. Lips latched on to her clit without warning and she cried out, grinding down as Emma tongued the bundle of nerves.
Eyes closed and mouth open, pleasured sounds fell from her lips as she rode Emma's mouth. Heat spread through her body, from the top of her head to the tip of her toes. Her nipples hardened to painful points as she twisted them roughly, savouring the ache as it ebbed in rhythm to her throbbing sex.
A hand left her ass and Emma pressed two fingers to her entrance. "Please," she whimpered, letting go of her breasts to thread her hands within blonde curls as Emma thrust into her. She held Emma against her and rocked, coating nose, lips and chin in slick, wet heat as Emma moaned and sucked on her clit.
When fingers curled and teeth grazed, the fire in her stomach exploded and Regina came with a long-drawn out moan of the blonde's name. Emma continued to lick and suck at her folds and clit, humming as she replaced her fingers with a tongue and happily drank her in.
Gathering what little of her strength remained as she came down from her high, Regina threw herself down on the bed with a deep throated chuckle. Weakness was never a concept she ever thought she'd embrace, but being weak for Emma Swan—unable to commit to a path of action that only served to punish them both—she may be weak, but it was so very worth it.
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"
Head turned to face the blonde, Regina grinned. "You're irresistible," she said, laughing as Emma's eyebrows practically disappeared into her hairline.
"Well duh," Emma drawled as her laughter subsided. She rolled onto her side, one hand splayed across Regina's stomach as she leaned in and kissed her on the lips. "I should get back to the barracks."
Regina frowned and grabbed her wrist, tugging her back down as Emma tried to get up. "We're not finished," she growled, lower lip protruding in a pout.
Emma smiled, shaking her head before she ducked in and kissed her again. "Think of it as my alternative punishment," she murmured, pulling back. "I have work to do and trust me; that body of yours is all the pleasure I need for now."
"What if I need yours?" Regina whined, refusing to release her until she had what she wanted. An orgasm was all well and good after a week without, but Emma was what she wanted above anything else. "I want to indulge."
"You can," Emma chuckled and pulled free as Regina relaxed her grip. "Tonight," she added, rolling from the bed and grinning as dark eyes narrowed with a glare. "We both know you have just as much work to do as I do, if not more."
Regina sighed. Emma had a point. She was somewhat surprised Rumple hadn't burst in on them and demanded her return to the library yet. "Fine," she agreed begrudgingly, rising with a mumble about inconsiderate blondes.
With a wave of her hand, she dressed them both. She returned to her previous dress—the one she wore for court—and had Emma don a billowy white shirt, and a particularly tight pair of black, leather pants. Giving her the once over, she smirked, satisfied and Emma rolled her eyes. "I won't even be able sit down in these."
"Too bad," Regina countered, flicking a lock of hair over her shoulder as she walked passed. She paused in the doorway and turned back, catching a glimpse of Emma's ass and, with a groan, she headed toward the Library.
Emma sauntered through the palace, an extra sway in her hips thanks to the skin-tight pants Regina forced her in to. She used to think her jeans were tight, but they were nothing compared to this. If Regina saw all the attention she was getting, she'd probably regret the decision but as it were, she couldn't and Emma was trying not to enjoy it too much.
As she ducked into her parents chambers, she wiped the smirk from her lips and slumped down into the chair by the fire. Snow was lost in the parchments spread out before her, too preoccupied to notice when Emma immediately stood back up and glared down at herself. The pants were really tight. "Bloody woman," she muttered beneath her breath.
"Oh Emma," Snow beamed, beckoning her over. "You're here."
"Yep," she said, nodding as she crossed the room to where her mother sat behind her desk. "Dad said you wanted to see me?"
"I did," Snow replied, gesturing to the chair in front of her. She frowned when Emma shook her head, but merely shook her own in response. Regina had reminded Snow, on more than one occasion, that she had a bad habit of sticking her nose where it didn't belong. Emma was glad to see her mother might finally be learning her lesson. "I was wondering if we could talk about whether you and Regina have plans to—"
Emma rolled her eyes. Too hopeful, too soon, she thought. "No," she interjected. She didn't need to hear the rest to know exactly what her mother was talking about. It was written all over her face. "I know if I was a character in a story book, we'd be married before we even said I love you, but that isn't how my reality works," she rambled, mouth snapping shut as she noted Snow's look of surprise.
With wide eyes, Snow quickly stuttered, "N-no, Emma, that… that isn't what I was talking about." Her brow furrowed a second time and Emma realised her mistake as a thoughtful look came over her face. "I mean, if you're thinking about—"
"No," Emma interrupted again. "I'm not thinking about it." She was. She'd thought about it quite a lot actually, but Snow didn't need to know that. She wasn't even sure Regina would be interested, she didn't need her mother being her usual interfering self. "You just looked hopeful and I thought…"
"Oh," Snow sighed, that one word riddled with so much disappointment as her shoulders slumped. "Well, no that isn't what I was going to ask. Regina mentioned another trip and I was just wondering if you two had made any plans for it yet."
Emma deflated, relief flooding her veins as she silently berated herself. It was only a matter of time before Snow brought the subject up again, and Emma wasn't stupid enough to hope her misstep would be forgotten any time in the near future, but at least Snow seemed on board with giving her some time to continue processing her own thoughts on the matter.
"Ah, no." She shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "We talked about it a few nights ago, but so far no plans," she said as she lifted a hand and ran fingers through her hair. "Apparently they're still looking for some artefact they're missing for… whatever they're doing."
Snow looked taken aback by that and before Emma could ask, she questioned, "Regina hasn't told you either?"
"What they're doing?" Emma clarified and Snow nodded. "No. She's dropped hints, I think, but I'm not really the puzzle solving type. I figure she'll tell me when it's important."
"And you trust her?"
Her response was immediate. "Of course."
"Of course," Snow repeated, her smile faint. "Well that's all I wanted to know. You should probably get back to the barracks before Killian loses his temper and impales someone."
Emma chuckled. She doubted he would impale anyone, but Killian wasn't the most patient of men and the new recruits they were tasked with training could be a handful at the best of times. "Right," she said, turning on her heel and heading for the door.
"Oh Emma," Snow called. Emma paused, hand outstretched as she glanced over her shoulder, eyebrow raised at her mother who grinned. "If you need a ring, I believe your father still has his mother's."