Three days passed. Three days since the first time Emma had kissed her. Three long, miserable days where Regina spent the majority of her time sulking around town acting as if it meant nothing to her in a poor attempt to bait Emma back to her – desperate for answers. It wasn't working.
In fact, Regina hadn't caught even a single glimpse of that ridiculous icy white hair since their last encounter. The one that left Regina breathless as confliction and arousal overwhelmed her senses and made it impossible for her to speak.
"Fuck you, Emma Swan," she muttered to herself in the comfort of her office. Her words weren't loud enough to echo off the walls, but it felt like they did with the way the room seemed to shrink in on her.
One thing she was grateful for, however, was the fact that Emma seemed to be staying out of trouble now that she'd gone into hiding. Despite it proving an impossible task for Regina to get the answers she so desperately desired, she was grateful her town seemed safe from a Dark One.
Returning to her regular work routine proved to be a more difficult task than she anticipated. The impending stack of paperwork felt as if it were growing as the day went on, rather than shrinking. She realized her jaw was clenched when she peered down again, frowning at the same sheet of stark-white paper that had been lying in front of her for hours. She didn't even know what the contents of the paper were – it didn't really matter, though. Her mind was elsewhere.
She pushed her open palms against the ledge of the desk, propelling her swivel chair backward. Standing, she decided to call this day a loss. She gathered her purse and wandered toward the door.
"Leaving so soon?" The husky voice vibrated across the room and sent a shiver down Regina's spine. She swallowed, resenting the way even the sound of Emma's voice was having such an effect on her.
"Last I checked, Miss Swan, my office is accessible on an appointment-only basis," she turned to see Emma clad in her ridiculous black leather attire. Her legs were crossed as she leaned back casually against the edge of Regina's desk. "Unless you've phoned my secretary, you may see yourself out."
Despite her desperate desire to turn and beg Emma to give her an explanation for whatever the hell she put her through the other evening, she had way too much self-respect.
She turned to walk toward the door once more but when the sound of heavy boots on linoleum reverberated through the room, she turned to pivot again in her Manolo's. Before she could fully turn her body, however, the weight of Emma's extended arm collided with the wall just above Regina's shoulder, pining her in place.
"Miss Swan, I don't have time for any more of your games. Unless you care to indulge me in whatever it is you've wasted your time coming here for, you know the way out."
"Isn't it obvious, Madam Mayor?"
"No, Emma, I'm afraid it isn't. Unless you're here for fashion advice – which you desperately need. I don't know what kind of charade you're playing but—"
"You say that like you're not the one who made me like this," Emma interrupted.
"I never told you to do this. You did this all on your own. And I'm not the one who seems to have turned this into a mind game." She added the last jab in hope of eliciting a discussion about what happened. But Emma stayed silent.
Running an excruciatingly slow finger down over Regina's jawline, Emma used her index finger to lift Regina's head up – demanding her full attention. The fact that Emma now had a slight height advantage over her was making Regina livid. She was the one who usually held all the power, and this new sensation of Emma towering over her was making her feel small. Feeling out of control wasn't something she ever did willingly.
And yet, something about the way Emma was looking at her stirred something unfamiliar inside of her core.
Emma leaned her body weight in closer. Regina couldn't suppress the soft gasp that escaped her parted lips in response. For a moment, she thought Emma might kiss her again. But, instead, she heard a deep laugh echo around her. Regina's jaw tensed as a fire burned behind her narrowed eyes.
"I know you're not laughing at me," Regina threatened, trying her best to keep her voice regal and composed – but it had failed her as it came out breathless. She tried to straighten her posture, rolling her shoulders back as she stood up straighter. But, to her dismay, Emma pushed her shoulders back until the arch of her shoulder blade collided with the wall.
"Pathetic," Emma scoffed. Her lips were inches from Regina's mouth and the air they were sharing felt like it was being vacuumed out of the room.
The one word alone would've typically resulted in the end of someone's life with just the simple flick of a wrist and a snap of their neck. But, instead, she whimpered. She found herself helpless for the second time in as long as she could remember. And, this time, she didn't hate it. In fact, she craved more. But she also knew she needed answers.
"Emma," she practically moaned. Her dark eyes locked on the green ones she had spent years admiring in secret. They looked different now that she was like this – they were hiding a sadness that Regina couldn't place.
Emma grabbed Regina by the throat and she felt her pulse quicken. Nobody ever dared to threaten her, let alone to touch her like this.
"I recommend you remove your hands from my throat immediately, unless you have a death wish, Miss Swan," she managed to say as she regained control over her own voice for the first time in what felt like days.
Instead, Emma smirked. Her free hand swept upward, brushing a strand of Regina's dark locks behind her ear as she leaned in. Her breath was warm on Regina's now-exposed neck.
"I prefer you like this, Madam Mayor," Emma whispered warmly into her ear. Regina's eyes shut as her shoulders trembled at the sensation. "At my mercy."
Suddenly, the chokehold around her throat was gone and she felt a coldness in the air. Her eyes fluttered open immediately and she faced the empty room. A shaky breath that she hadn't realized she'd been holding escaped and she felt her lip tremble.
She clenched her fists as her vision clouded in front of her eyes. The blind rage she felt bubbling inside of her was dangerous and she grabbed the nearest object. The sound of glass shattering was satisfying as the object crashed against the wall. But as soon as it fell to the floor, the rage returned once more.
She grabbed her bag from the desk and slammed the door shut behind her.
Making her way to her car, one of the dwarves – which one, she didn't really care – approached her.
"Oh, Regina. I was hoping to catch you. We've made a discovery down in the mines," he began. Regina wasn't listening. "We think we've figured out what the Dark O—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Regina gritted her teeth and waved her wrist. Before her eyes, she watched as the skin of the dwarf vanished and was quickly replaced by grey stone.
She sped off in her Mercedes, with no regard for her driving speed. The town's sheriff wasn't patrolling, anyway.
She slammed her front door and it vibrated on its hinges, the frame threatening to shatter. But she still wasn't satisfied. She could burn down a whole building right now and she still wouldn't feel better. Nothing could make this better.
Three more objects from her living room managed to shatter before nightfall. Two bottles of Bordeaux hadn't helped much either. Her bottom lip was now cracked from biting at it and she was certain she'd wake up in the morning with a sore jaw from keeping it clenched for so long.
She climbed under the sheets and wanted, desperately, to pull them over her head and scream. Instead, she found her hand wandering under the waistband of her silky pajama bottoms.
As much as she hated to admit it, this pent-up frustration boiled down to her body's betrayal. The fact that she was turned on by the way Emma had her pinned made her sick to her stomach, but it didn't stop her mind from dragging her back to the sensation she felt. The way she lost control for the first time. The way Emma's warmth felt on her neck. The way she had a hand around her throat and didn't murder anyone for it immediately afterward.
Her fingers dipped between soaked folds and she let out a muffled moan. She was quickly learning that the thought of Emma taking control of her was having a surprising effect on her body. Her pace quickened as she teased her clit and gasped.
"My, my. That didn't take long."
Regina froze and snapped her head up in the direction of the voice. Propping herself up onto her elbows, her eyes narrowed. She stared back at the smirk on Emma's face.
"Oh, don't let me stop you. You look pretty wound up. I'll let you finish."
"Get the hell out of my bedroom, Miss Swan or so help me—"
"Your empty threats are growing a little stale, you know? Besides, if this is how you are after only two measly kisses – I'd be willing to bet you're quite a mess after a little more of what you so desperately need from me."
Before Regina could say another word, she lifted her hand. The weight of Emma's slender body collided into the wall and hit with a hard thud.
In less than an instant, Regina was looming over Emma's collapsed position on the carpet. She reached down and gripped her by the throat – mimicking Emma's earlier action.
"You look beautiful like this," Emma said – her tone shifting as she smiled in admiration. Her words sounded soothing and tender as she stood with ease. Slowly, she wrapped her long fingers loosely around the wrist pressed up against her throat and eased it off of her.
"Wha- what?" Regina's eyebrows squished together as she blinked, dropping the hold on Emma's neck. She knew this version of Emma was cruel and manipulative, but hearing her voice soften like that was an entirely new sensation and she felt her stomach flutter.
"I've never seen you with your hair pulled back like that," Emma reached out and tousled a messy strand that tumbled from her loosely-tied updo. "And without any makeup," she added as she traced her cheekbone lightly.
Regina's breathing quickened again. Her body temperature increased several degrees as she licked her dry lips and looked up at Emma, feeling even more vulnerable than she had earlier.
She was barefoot, in pajamas, without makeup, staring up at the sleek, leather-clad Emma who had far too much mascara on.
Her breath hitched as Emma's fingers traced her worried lip she'd been chewing at.
"What is it?" Emma's head tilted slightly, watching Regina with curiosity.
Regina didn't know how to answer. Even if she tried to speak, she was certain nothing would come out. She shook her head slowly only once.
"Oh, have I left the high and mighty Evil Queen speechless?" Emma mocked as the devilish smirk reappeared across her face.
"N- no," Regina muttered.
Emma laughed – the sound harsh and cold. Regina felt that same sensation of fury and arousal she'd felt earlier, and she shook her head once more.
"What? Ashamed to admit that you actually enjoy being out of control for once, Madam Mayor?"
"Stop talking," Regina commanded, knowing she couldn't take much more of the mocking tone.
Emma gripped Regina's shoulders then shoved, sending her backward until she fell onto the bed. Emma straddled her slender frame, looming over her as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against Regina's – kissing her, hard.
"Is that what you needed, your majesty?" Emma asked with a sly laugh.
Regina wanted to argue. Wanted to snap back at her. Hell, she wanted to hit her right now. But she couldn't. Because Emma was right. That was exactly what she needed.
Through narrowed eyes, Regina didn't bother to nod her head or respond. Instead, she grabbed at the base of Emma's neck and pulled her back down until their lips met again. Her moans felt trapped against Emma's unforgiving mouth as she deepened their kiss.
The weight of Emma's knee suddenly cut up against her thigh, forcing her legs to fall apart.
"Fuck," Regina muttered, unsure when she had last accidentally let a curse word slip from being so aroused.
"Oh, your majesty," Emma tsked, her tone disapproving. As if on cue, Regina felt herself getting wetter at the use of the formal title that made her feel foolish when she was splayed out on the bed at Emma's mercy. "I can feel the heat radiating off of your cunt already."
Emma's gaze was unforgiving, dilated green eyes burning into every inch of Regina who felt vulnerably exposed in her silky lace pajama set.
"I bet you're soaked just from touching yourself to thoughts of me earlier."
Regina's head jerked in tandem with a newfound heat flushing through her body.
"I was not thinking of you," she lied through gritted teeth. She knew, somewhere deep down, she still had an ounce of dignity left and she clung to it in desperation. She wouldn't let Emma win without a fight.
Emma didn't even bother to acknowledge the pathetic attempt of a rebuttal. She grinned and sunk her teeth into her bottom lip. Her gaze remained fixed on the swell of Regina's breasts. Leaning down again, she captured Regina's supple skin of her neck between her teeth. Biting down, she relished in the sound of Regina crying out.
Planting a hard kiss on the spot she had just marked, Emma dragged her tongue up the length of her neck until she found Regina's pulse point. When Regina's cries transitioned to moans, Emma's lips curled into a smirk.
Emma's long fingers danced up Regina's olive thigh, easing her way under the hem of the silky bottoms. Her fingers settled on the dip of skin just inches from her cunt and she pushed her thigh down harder. Regina felt her stomach muscles tighten in anticipation and she studied the way Emma was observing her body's reaction to her touch.
The sudden realization dawned on her: Regina never had felt this level of anticipation for anything in the past, and her eyes gleamed just before she let them fall shut. The sensation of Emma's fingers became overwhelming and she was ready to give in and let Emma take everything she wanted from her.
"Emma," she whispered, her tone breathless and needy.
But when she heard the whooshing sound and the sensation of cold air on her flushed skin, she sat up. Blinking, she took in the sight of the empty room.
"Are you fucking kidding me," she screamed. She raked her fingers through her hair all the way from her temples to the base of her skull and huffed a breath that did little to release the tension that was coiling inside her chest.
Tears of frustration burned her eyes. She curled her legs into her chest, inching her limp body upward until she felt the back of her head hit the pillow and she instantly let out a choked sob.
It had been well over 30 years since she allowed herself to feel so vulnerable, and for what? The presence of Emma Swan lingered in her bedroom and she squeezed her eyes shut — hoping she could pretend it was all just a horrible nightmare as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.