"Beautiful."
"Did you say something?"
"No, dear."
Regina leans in swiftly and nips at the blonde's clavicles to deter any further questioning. She pulls the Sheriff up so as to pull down the zipper hidden at the back of her dress, and begins pushing the fabric up the younger woman's body with firm strokes of her hand; thus revealing the black swatch of her thong and the dip of her navel. Emma attempts to help wrestle the intricate fabric from her shoulders and chest; her careless movements threatening to send them both toppling off the desk.
"Stop your fidgeting, Miss Swan!"
The dress isn't even half way off her damn body and already the delusion of elegance comes crumbling down.
The Sheriff blushes lightly, and forces herself to remain still as the brunette plucks deftly at the delicate strings and whorls that flow across her shoulders until, finally, the dress is pulled up over her head in a shroud of midnight.
Regina lets the garment fall carefully to the floor; not wishing to damage the singular item of clothing the younger woman possesses that she doesn't deem hideous. Hooking her fingers into the tight cotton of the blonde's underwear, she drags it swiftly down long, toned legs; leaving the woman beneath her completely bare.
Fading bruises dapple the Sheriff's pale flesh where teeth and nails attacked her back in the jail cell, and Regina plays her fingers over these marks gently; mimicking their shapes and patterns, while occasionally pressing a little more firmly here and there.
"You bruise so easily..."
"Yes, my body's defenses when it comes to pseudo-rape are very much lacking."
The brunette scowls down at the blonde before rolling her eyes irritably. She should have known Emma's charming act could only last so long.
(She refuses to entertain the thought that perhaps she quite enjoys the sardonic little quips forever stringing languidly from wicked lips.)
She can feel the color rising to her cheeks a little shamefully, which in turn fuels the beginnings of her anger. She doesn't like the Sheriff's wording in the slightest, and she glares down at the blonde with a distinctly caged expression, although her fingers continue to draw out intricate patterns on the younger woman's supple flesh.
"Well, you deserved it. It was pay back. It wasn't... What you said."
"Oh?"
Regina scowls as the blonde raises an eyebrow, and she pulls her hands swiftly away from soft skin.
"You threatened me with a blade and left me lying, wanting, on my own damn desk!"
"Uhuh, you, meanwhile, cuffed me to your goddamned door and treated me like some kind of whore... Twice..."
The Mayor flips her hair back irritably; a burning loathing growing within her at being called out. In her own mind, she can't see how the two could possibly be compared.
In her own mind, she has always looked out for number one. Looked out for herself.
In her own mind, donning an expensive dress does not give others the right to run their mouths. Not if they do so against her.
"Well, I simply call it like I see it, dear."
The blonde goes rigid beneath her, and then an angry hiss escapes deliciously sex-swollen lips.
"Get off me."
Regina blinks down at the younger woman in hazy confusion. She is used to the anger that laces the Sheriff's voice; having suffered through the tedious act of listening to the irksome woman rant and rave in that ever sarcastic way of hers many a time.
This is different though. This is raw.
She expects strong fingers to claw at her bare legs and sharp hips to buck tantalizingly against her own. Instead she is met only with a hurt green glare that doesn't quite make sense to her.
She is angry at Emma for her phrasing as to what had happened back at the Station. She was simply serving out punishment, and if the blonde had really, truly been scared or in pain. she should have damn well said something then. Not now.
The brunette's head spins. Tonight has been nothing short of a rollercoaster, and now she struggles to make sense of things.
This is how this is supposed to work. We argue... And now; We have sex.
The blonde is supposed to snipe back at her. Goad her. Set her up for her next line.
"Miss Swan-"
"-I said get off me!"
The blonde's voice breaks on the last word, and she hates herself for it.
Why the fuck did I think this would be a good idea? Like things were ever going to be fucking fair!
Regina stays put, dark eyes roaming over the Sheriff's pale face curiously. She vaguely recalls her earlier bout of apprehension that the younger woman was planning to play her winning hand and call an end to their little game.
Their fucking game.
Dark shadow, so meticulously applied, still smokes beautifully around stormy eyes and the Mayor's expression of distaste gradually disappears. She lowers herself slowly down until her weight is carried on her forearms which rest- cushioned by blonde curls- flush with the desk's surface; bringing her nose to nose with the Sheriff. Emma glares up at her haughtily, but there is a fragility in her eyes that the brunette doesn't miss.
When she speaks, the brunette's voice is low, and while her words could be considered goading, her tone is neutral and she shows no intention of removing herself from the slim form pinned beneath her.
"You shouldn't have walked out like that..."
"And you shouldn't have left me in those fucking cuffs!"
"...I know..."
Perfect lips press softly against the blonde's left eye- brushing against the small nick that mars the flesh of her brow bone- before the Mayor runs an uncharacteristically gentle hand through the Sheriff's hair; smoothing it back from her forehead.
"I know that..."
She moves her lips to Emma's and nips at them gently. She isn't deterred when she is met with resistance; simply continuing to brush, lick and nibble softly.
Eventually she feels taut limbs beneath her begin to relax, and she manages to part the Sheriff's lips with a hard swipe of her tongue. She closes her eyes and deepens their kiss, but when she runs her hand sensually down between their bodies, the blonde presses her legs pointedly together.
Anyone would think she's never been called a whore before...
Regina banishes her inner goading irritably. She doesn't believe for a second that the Sheriff hasn't heard a thousand times worse, but she feels momentarily sheepish for her little quip at the younger woman's expense. Not because she feels she is entirely in the wrong, but because of tonight. Tonight was supposed to be about Emma, and she knows that the blonde's efforts to present herself the way she has won't have come easily.
Somewhere, in the very narrow crawl-space of her mind where her younger self still lingers, she wishes to simply whisper into the blonde's ear that none of this was necessary. That, while they will always be at each other's throats, and there will always be this battle for power between them, she hadn't expected the younger woman to make the efforts she has tonight. Not when she can't bring herself to acknowledge them.
It is easier to hurt her than to compliment her.
Instead, she merely skims her hand over the apex of the blonde's thighs and back up to rest on her stomach, trailing her lips all the while down the Sheriff's throat.
"Your reasons for being angry with me for cuffing you are vastly different to my reasons for being angry at you for walking out on me, Miss Swan."
She doesn't go on to vocalize what those reasons might have been; the fact that she had wanted the younger woman, had craved her and had loathed being denied her. She suspects the Sheriff may just be smart enough to put two and two together and figure that part out for herself.
Emma sighs and closes her eyes, running her hands up the Mayor's hips in a way that seems promising until she begins to roll out from under her.
"I should go."
Regina frowns, but allows the blonde to climb out from beneath her long-legged prison. She lowers herself back down so that her butt rests on the desk; feeling monumentally deflated despite her recent climax. She watches silently as the younger woman pulls her dress back over her head and fusses distractedly over the complex pattern of strings that cross over her pale shoulders.
Emma pulls hatefully at one of the small, curved straps that sits awkwardly across her collarbone, her eyes flickering over to the brunette's. Her shoulders droop at the expression ill-hidden on the Mayor's enviable features. She understands she has just been offered as close to an apology as she can hope to achieve, but she needs to get out of here. At least for the time being.
Regina's lips thin stoically as green eyes dart over to hers; her shoulders tensing as the blonde takes a hesitant step closer and presses her lips dryly against her own. A slender hand finds her bare thigh and squeezes it tentatively, and she suddenly pushes back- passionately- into the Sheriff's kiss before the younger woman pulls away.
Sighing, the brunette works her fingers deftly over the whorls of black at the blonde's shoulders to pull the defiant fabric of her dress correctly into place. She applies a little extra pressure with her fingers as she completes her task, causing the younger woman to raise her eyes and find her gaze.
"You're so lucky..."
The Sheriff's brow creases in confusion. The Mayor tucks blonde curls behind the younger woman's ear.
"Huh?"
"I'm not going to tell you that you're flawless... But you are beautiful."
Emma stares back at her incredulously, and Regina struggles to hide her amusement. Instead, she nods curtly; the movement graceful, despite the fact that she still kneels atop the desk, her body intimately displayed. She offers the Sheriff a nonchalant shrug of slender shoulders, before pulling her gaping robe around her body.
"Go home and get some sleep, Sheriff...Consider tonight a draw... I expect I'll see you sooner rather than later."