"... What now, Miss Swan?"
The Queen's inquiry is but a low rasp as she hovers her hands precariously close to bare flesh, but doesn't quite allow herself to touch. True, the state in which Emma now stands is no different to the way she has been dressed for the past couple of days, but this is different- entirely different- and, for the first time, the brunette allows her attention to wander without pretence as her breath remains light on the back of the younger woman's neck.
"...What do you want to do to me?"
Carefully free from any obvious emotion, but husky and openly curious.
What do you want to do to me. Not 'what do you want from me?'. Not 'what do you want me to do?'...
What do you want to do to me?...
She's testing the waters... She doesn't want this to be a misunderstanding...
Breath catching, the Mayor leans in so that she stands completely flush with the blonde- her breasts brushing against the soft skin of Sheriff's back- and when she speaks low into the delicate shell of the younger woman's ear, she allows her fingers to come to rest at the blonde's waist, stroking bare flesh gently.
"Why, whatever do you mean, dear-"
Eyebrows raising in momentary surprise as the Sheriff turns around abruptly in her arms, the Queen moves her hands to clutch and paw at the younger woman's back as the latter crashes soft lips wantonly against her own. Pale fingers lose themselves within her hair, and she deepens their kiss possessively as her heart hammers madly in her chest.
Demanding entrance, the Mayor pinches at the taut flesh of the younger woman's oblique muscles appreciatively as her tongue is sweetly accepted to explore and battle against the blonde's own.
Somewhere in the cobwebbed crawlspace of her mind she conjures the image of an apple, and the vague and unwelcome knowledge that the woman who currently runs her hand playfully up between them and palms at the soft round of her breast is Emma Swan- cheap, stubborn, common as mud, irksome, insufferable Sheriff Swan; a woman whom, if things had gone according to plan, would be lying comatose back in Storybrooke right now while she herself remained in sole possession of their son- plagues her thoughts for a brief moment.
But then nimble fingers slip beneath the soft cotton of her slip, and devilishly dark eyes shoot open in surprise as the younger woman cups her sex.
Sensing the brunette's sudden shock, Emma pulls back tentatively- cheeks flushed and lips kiss swollen- to regard the Mayor warily.
"I... I'm sorry, I thought..."
She pulls her hand back nervously- fingers glistening with the Queen's arousal- and hides it shyly behind her back.
Regina growls, taking a bold step forward and brushing her own hand up the pale skin of the blonde's thigh until her fingers play lightly over the tattered remains of the Sheriff's underwear.
"You thought what, dear?"
"Nothing... I wasn't sure if you... If you didn't... I-"
"-Hush."
Claiming the younger woman's lips much more gently this time, she turns the two of them around and begins backing the Sheriff towards the bed as her fingers get caught up once more in the intrinsic nightmare of golden curls.
When the backs of the blonde's knees hit the mattress, she pulls away to give the older woman a questioning look as though for approval, and the Queen offers a small nod, waiting as the Sheriff clambers onto the bed. The way she does so is oddly tentative, and Regina supposes that under any other circumstance she would find the way long limbs crawl back awkwardly on the plush covers rather amusing, but as it is her eyes flash to pale flesh and the sublime ripple of sinewy muscle as the younger woman settles herself against the headboard; her expression curiously shy in juxtaposition to her previous smug flirtation.
Emma blushes as dark eyes roam over her in a way that leads her to conclude that Regina has indeed spared her several appreciative glances before now; her own eyes darting about the room with giddy nervousness at being so openly studied, before she forces herself to look back at the Mayor and tosses her long hair back with the peculiar air of arrogance the Queen had once hated so vehemently.
But it is not the arrogance of superiority.
It is simply a cold defiance against being looked down upon, and Regina has long since decided it suits her just fine.
Offering the younger woman a measured look, the brunette plucks at the indigo cotton of her nightdress and slips it slowly up over her head to fall in a small heap at her feet, shaking out her hair before tucking it back into place.
She smirks at the look of awe that alights pale features, but negates to chide the blonde for her open perversion.
Instead she climbs gracefully up onto the bed until she kneels over the Sheriff; smiling when Emma studies her with wide eyes, and leaning in to capture soft lips once more.
She moves in such a way that she wordlessly forces the blonde to recline fully on the bed, straddling her gently so that her wetness dampens tattered cotton as the Sheriff's heat causes her to let out a small sound of pleasure as her kiss is eagerly reciprocated.
What on earth are we doing? This is madness!...
But with the way the Sheriff links skinny arms loosely around her neck and moves salaciously beneath her, she is positive that this is something which has been brewing between them potently towards this point of breaking.
Moving a slim thigh to rest between Emma's own, the Mayor shivers at the guttural response this earns her low in her ear, and she finds herself once more surprised when her act is flawlessly followed by the blonde adjusting the position of her own leg to apply glorious friction in return.
You've done this before...
Most likely, but she doesn't deem this to be the time to ask, and in all honesty, she has little interest in what acts the Sheriff has practiced with other women- or men- as this is the here and now, and her interest is carnally selfish. Let it simply suffice that the younger woman seems to have her talents very much down in the bedroom.
This notion is seconded when Emma unhooks one of her arms from around slim shoulders and sends skilled fingers exploring between them, the Queen groaning as her nipple is tweaked none too gently and cruel fingernails dig into her shoulder to create faint half-moon indents in perfect flesh.
"Ah!"
Pushing herself up to regard the Sheriff with a frown, she glances at her shoulder with ill-bridled anger, and the younger woman bites her bottom lip as she follows the direction of the Mayor's gaze.
"Sorry..."
Emma mutters awkwardly, before adopting a slow smile that has the brunette raising an eyebrow with sordid curiosity; the blonde's lips promising pure evil.
Quite the schizophrenic, aren't you, dear?
"What's tickling you...?"
But her air of well-practiced aloof disdain is brought crumbling down when the Sheriff abruptly wrestles her flush and whispers hotly in her ear while her free hand moves down to find slick folds.
"I beseech thee for thy forgiveness, my Queen..."
Husky words descend into throaty laughter as she attempts to pull at the darker woman to find her lips once more.
Regina, however, remains wide-eyed, the blonde's gravelly whisper having struck her right to her core, and it is all she can do but to keep her composure and ride out the faint fluttering of her sex- in no way helped by slim fingers that stroke and tease but cruelly refuse to enter her- for which she plans to seek harsh revenge.
Sitting up properly, she regards the Sheriff pensively, and this time, rather than nervous guilt, she is met with glittering green and that ever smug, sarcastic smile. Allowing her gaze to wander openly, she sniffs as though bored, before replying with measured silkiness.
"Do you really think it's wise to play that game, dear?"
"... You tell me... I would have thought you would be all for the idea of owning a prize...Doing what you wanted with her..."
A small dimple at the side of the younger woman's mouth as she drawls hotly; clearly enjoying her sordid mocking.
But the Queen is not one to be mocked.
Leaning down so that she hovers nose to nose with the blonde, Regina whispers; pure malice.
"Be careful what you wish for..."
"Is that a threat?"
"It should be... What makes you think you could take the things I could... That I would do to you...?"
An ill-hidden shudder, and the brunette closes her eyes as the younger woman dips her middle finger sweetly into her need before abruptly removing her hand and replying hoarsely.
"Do your worst..."