Hello again, my sweets! Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. The last 48 hours of my life have been odd and shocking and overwhelming and… well, you get the picture.
So, here you go. Thank you so much for the reviews and follows and favorites! You're all awesome, and as such, you deserve a chance at a one-shot from moi. First one to guess the movie Emma and Henry are watching gets to give me a prompt for a one-shot.
Enjoy!
Songs: Explosive by Bond, Kiss Me Slowly by Parachute
Regina stopped in the doorway of the living room. Emma and Mason stood in the center of the room, riveted to the movie on the television. A half-eaten plate of cookies sat in the middle of the coffee table along with a bowl of popcorn kernels, empty and half-full bottles of soda. The Queen wrinkled her nose at the disgusting display of gluttony but held her tongue, watching mother and son enjoy their movie so immensely.
"There was a fire fight!" They screamed in unison, holding their arms in the air in a V.
A smirk tugged at her lips despite the grotesque display of violence and ridiculous directing of a classical symphony by a man in disheveled clothing and a maniacal expression. Mason and Emma danced around similarly, clearly having seen the movie enough times to follow every movement and line perfectly. It warmed her heart all over again, and she took another step into the room and ignored the feeling for the moment.
Setting her best irritated face, Regina cleared her throat. "Honestly, Miss Swan, you've deemed this acceptable for your son's entertainment?"
Emma spun towards her so quickly that she nearly lost her balance. "Regina!" She scratched the back of her head, embarrassed for having been caught being so silly. "He picked it out," she grumbled, and grinned sheepishly up at her lover from beneath hooded eyes.
"Have you completely destroyed your appetite or may I proceed with our original plans of dining at Granny's this afternoon?" She held her aggravation as long as possible, finding joy in The Savior's uncomfortable wriggle on her hook.
"To the diner!" Mason yelled and breezed past the two women. Clearly, they had issues that needed ironing, and he wanted no part of it. "I'm going to go get my coat," he proclaimed and bolted from the room, clomping loudly up the stairs.
Regina grinned after the boy, no longer able to fake irritation. "I've not seen him smile so brightly since his arrival," she commented absently, staring longingly into the foyer. It stung, turning Mason over to Emma's capable and loving hands. Had she lost him?
"Regina," Emma whispered, practically in her ear. "Can I touch you?" She asked respectfully, praying Regina reciprocated the yearning she'd felt the entire morning. She'd not followed Regina after her mad dash from the dining room, figuring the events and emotions of the previous night finally sank into. They frightened Emma, so she only imagined how much more terrifying they were for the far more stunted queen.
"First, I'd like an explanation, Miss Swan," Regina dropped coldly and held up a hand. There, on her finger, a neon pink post-it note blazed like a bonfire that revealed the location of enemy troops. Emma actually physically winced.
"Mason thinks Cora will like him if he keeps picking on her. I just thought it was funny," Emma explained and hooked her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans. Regina rolled her eyes and sighed. She truly wanted to laugh at the practical joke, but had Cora discovered her home office covered from top to bottom in these tiny squares instead of Matilda, there'd have surely been another skirmish between The Savior and her mother.
"Mother has been quite agreeable since your display of violence towards her. Do you wish to regress to our earlier days in which I must constantly intervene?" Regina snapped in anger. She balled the paper and flung it at Emma, bouncing it off her cheek.
Emma failed to even notice. Regina's words stopped her cold. "I'm sorry, Regina," she apologized easily, realizing her mistake in a moment. "I'll clean them up before we go," she promised, head bowed. Though they wanted only to irritate Cora a little bit, Mason failed to understand exactly the position they'd put Regina in with her mother. She had, too. Every time Regina locked horns with her mother, The Queen came out on the other side always victorious but also bloodied and hurting.
"Matilda, Greg, and Astrid have undertaken the task already," Regina said and clasped her hands in front of her hips, controlling her emotions.
Emma blew right past her emotional barriers and scratched fingers of one hand thru her hair, caressing her shoulder with the other. "Regina, I'll do better," she promised, hoping not to get blasted. Though she felt that last night changed everything for them, Regina spent years having sex with people in her service. It may have simply been another romp for her.
But, it wasn't, Emma battled silently. She'd spent the night. Regina reciprocated. Regina called her name in the throes of passion. These facts were absolutely useless, and frustration bubbled in The Savior's chest. She didn't know what to do.
"Regina?" Emma whispered, looking for instruction for how to proceed. Regina hadn't bolted from the physical contact yet, but she hadn't fully accepted or responded, either.
"You may touch me, Miss Swan," Regina finally answered her original question.
"Thank god," Emma breathed and melted into her mistress.
Regina touched her hips lightly, unable to stop the quiver of emotion pouring thru her body. She tried to run, to speak, to make Emma understand how terrified their intimacy made her. But, she'd wanted this. She'd wanted Emma to change her, to change her kingdom. She selected The Savior because she was bold and brave and different from the other commoners under her rule.
"Regina, you're shaking," Emma murmured into her hair a moment before she pulled back. Regina's eyes were clamped shut tightly, facial muscles taut with tension.
"Regina, talk to me," she pleaded.
"Shut up, Miss Swan," Regina ordered and clapped a hand on either side of her face, pulling her down for a desperate kiss. They flew apart in teleport, and Emma's back hit a solid surface when they materialized.
Nails scraped her sides, and the sweater pulling over her head broke the kiss. The thick material flumped onto the floor behind Regina somewhere, and her hands immediately dove for Emma's belt, jerking erratically. As her fingers fumbled, Regina licked at the bruises and teeth imprints on her pet's ruined neck. The sight of her possession surged more adrenaline into her veins, jarring her hands violently.
"Consent," she demanded huskily into Emma's ear as The Savior took matters into her own hands, undoing her belt and the button of her jeans.
"Fuck me, My Queen" she answered almost immediately. Her body still ached from their almost meeting that morning, and Emma quickly discovered that a mere look, a touch, a scent of the older women made her climb the walls. Regina's sudden frantic need to have her confused the shit out of her, but as long as she continued moving closer instead of pushing her away, Emma decided to just go with it.
She'd barely kicked out of the pants and boots before Regina dropped to her knees and dug nails into her hips. The gesture made Emma understand, but her brain absolutely refused to decrypt Regina's sudden need to assert her dominance. The Queen paused for one deep inhalation of the musk dripping from her pet and then began a frenzied assault of flicks across her clit.
Emma moaned loudly at the sudden liquid heat on the sensitive bundle of nerves and grabbed the door handle to steady herself. Her other hand fell to dark tresses, eliciting a growl from below. Regina flicked one hand, and Emma's crash into the door above her head, held in place with invisible restraints. She found herself thankful for them, at least she wouldn't fall over that way.
"Mine," Regina declared, and Emma shivered at the weight and conviction of the monosyllabic snarl.
"Yours," she answered breathlessly.
Regina rewarded her by plunging two fingers into velvet walls of liquid heat. Her hips bucked and rolled, using the advantage of restraints to fuck herself on Regina's fingers. The Queen dug nails into stomach, warning her that she'd pleasured herself enough, and somewhere in the recesses of her brain function, Emma understood and forced her hips to stop. Regina, however, stopped with her, making the entire process that much more excruciating.
"Regina, please," she begged. "My Queen, I'm yours. I'm yours, Regina," she babbled.
Apparently, Regina needed to hear it more than once, Emma's mind registered for a split second. It shut down like a transformer blowing as pleasure burst in her body. It wasn't slow or gentle or sort-of-but-not-really emotional like the previous night. Regina Mills fucked her, hard and fast.
Lips suckled her clit with intermittent flicks of a skilled tongue. Fingers thrust and pumped ferociously, combining jolts of pain with tendrils of scorching pleasure in her belly. Emma forgot to be quiet. She forgot not to rock her hips. She forgot to be afraid of losing everything and the pain of so much more she should have had. She forgot her parents and Henry and the possibility of ever going home. She forgot about the horror on the original Regina's face if she ever discovered what happened in this timeline.
Because if she ever felt how desperately this Regina wanted her, she'd have left Robin in a heartbeat.
Her mind released the thought into the oblivion of ecstasy as her muscles contracted around Regina's fingers and she came with Regina's name on her lips. Her legs quivered, and her arms pulled tight against the magical restraints. With another wave of Regina's hand, Emma slumped to her knees, straddling Regina's lap. She draped her arms over The Queen's shoulders and buried her face in Regina's hair, riding the waves of pleasure pulsing from Regina's twitching fingers against her g-spot.
"Say it again," Regina ordered, a softer tone in her voice than the first time.
"I'm yours, Regina Mills," Emma whispered into her ear, reveling in the resulting shiver in the body beneath hers.
A gentle hand pressed against the base of her spine, steadying her as Regina reclaimed her fingers. It was gentle and soothing, a stark contrast to the rough treatment that reduced her to jell-o in this woman's arms. Emma met it with feathery kisses against Regina's neck and soft hums of contentment. She cupped the back of Regina's neck with one hand and followed the contour of her shoulder with the other.
When it reached The Queen's breast, Regina said, "Tell me how much you want me."
"Right now, more than anything," Emma answered honestly. "You feel so good, Regina," she praised and nipped her earlobe. Her hand massaged Regina's breast lightly, and her excitement began growing all over again.
"Your breasts are so fucking perfect," she murmured and pulled back to meet Regina for a heated kiss. The Queen moaned into her mouth, shooting slivers of arousal to the apex of her thighs instantly.
Emma rocked gently on Regina's thigh, putting just enough pressure on her clit to build herself up slowly. Surprised that Regina hadn't retaliated against the self-pleasure, Emma continued. She kissed down that perfect jaw line and nipped at Regina's throat, grinning at the tiny quiver it caused in her lover's body.
"I love your body, Regina," Emma confessed into her neck. "You're so beautiful. I want to spend hours worshipping every single inch of you."
Regina's eyes slipped shut, head lulling backwards lazily. Emma urged her entire body to follow her head, spreading her knees to allow Regina to unfurl from her kneeling position. The moment she settled her hips atop Regina's, Emma knew that she'd made a terrible mistake, even if she'd not restrained Regina's hands. The Queen's eyes flew open in a wild panic, and the tingle of magic raised the hair on the back of Emma's neck.
"Stop," Regina breathed quietly. Emma threw her upper body to the side and dropped to the floor beside the suddenly scared woman. Regina gulped a deep breath at the immediate release from the confined position.
Emma raised on an elbow and studied her lover for a minute. "I'm sorry, Regina. I didn't think." And she truly hadn't. She just wanted Regina to feel good. The static of magical energy disappeared, and Regina's gaze shifted from the ceiling to her pet's.
"You stopped?" She blurted, eyes narrowing in confusion.
Emma's forehead furrowed, creating four tiny white lines. She dropped her gaze shyly, feeling the weighted change of energy in the room. Regina's incredulity blanketed them thickly, and an uncontrollable anger swell in her chest. How had anyone hurt Regina so badly that she actually fucking questioned her motives for stopping when asked? With a deep breath, she pushed the rage into a tiny box and shoved it away for the moment. It only caused more harm than good in this situation.
She raised her eyes slowly and met the shimmering caramel studying her face. "I'll always stop, Regina. I told you, I'll never hurt you like that."
The Queen stared at her pet for an extended, searching gaze. Emma waited. Patience had never been her best quality, but she held perfectly still aside from the tensed flex of her fist and the rapid jogging of her chest. After what felt like an hour, Regina raised her hand and touched Emma's mouth with three trembling fingers. The scent of her lingered on The Queen's hand, and Emma decided that she loved it there. She kissed the digits lightly and waited against her instinct to take Regina in her arms and kiss the rest of her body until nothing hurt anymore.
"Clean yourself and dress," Regina instructed softly, her voice hoarse with emotions Emma couldn't quite read. She disappeared in a puff of violet smoke.
Completely confused by the sudden display of tenderness, Emma pushed herself onto wobbly legs and followed the directive. She'd either chipped away more ice from Regina's ivory tower or laid more bricks. Only the next few hours revealed which, and Emma sincerely prayed she'd not just destroyed their budding romance.