AN: Well guys, after the sugar-soaked fairytale of last chapter, it's time for some domesticated bliss. This chapter is M rated – as if I needed to say that ;-) and I've also decided that instead of an epilogue there will just be a chapter 27. I know, I changed my mind again, so sue me ;-) As this is the penultimate chapter, I feel now is a good time to tell you all that I've enjoyed writing this story so much that I am going to do a sequel (maybe a few one shots too). However, my muse may take a bit of time to reload so if any of you have any ideas on how you'd like to this be continued, please feel free to drop me a line. Alternatively, if you have a request for a one shot that would work for this version of Swan Queen, then let me know and I'll see what I can do. If I have no suggestions, I'll assume you all think the story has run its course and we'll just leave them to their happy ending at the end of chapter 27. As always, thank you all for your amazing, continued support. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and let me know what you think :-)
We rematerialize in my bedroom, the sound of fireworks still echoing in the distance. In the darkness of the room, I can feel Emma's presence everywhere. The warmth of her body as she presses against me and pulls me closer, her taste on my tongue as I deepen our kiss. The way that her scent lingers in the air around us, spicy sandalwood…
She surrounds me, floods my senses until she's rushing through my veins and touching every single cell. I have never felt so attuned to a lover in all my life. I never dreamed it could be like this.
The gentle caress of her probing tongue stokes a fire deep within, one that I'm certain will never be extinguished, and the feeling of completion reminds me of the dream that started all of this.
Though we didn't know it at the time, we both dreamt that we were making love in this very room. It was a dream that opened my eyes to this amazing woman, my beautiful disaster that I spent years looking at but never really seeing.
Releasing her jumper from my tight grip, I wave my hand and the room is illuminated in soft candlelight, reminiscent of that life changing dream.
Emma breaks our kiss at the sudden burst of light, her gaze flicking around the room and falling momentarily on each individual flame.
"Did you do that?" She asks awestruck, her gaze returning to mine, green eyes dancing in the flickering light.
"Well you certainly didn't," I grin teasingly.
Despite the irreversible change in our relationship, something tells me that we'll always have this fierce rivalry between us. It's part of the passion the ignites whenever we're in the same room for any length of time. A physical manifestation of the raw lust that burns between us. We're equals, alpha females in a very small town, and irrespective of the fact that we're True Loves and share a heart, I think we'll always feel the need to compete against each other on some level.
"Hey, I could do that!" Emma replies, feigning insult.
I scoff, "Need I remind you how long it took for you to light one flame in Neverland?"
She laughs softly and her beauty steals the breath from my lungs. I can't believe that she's really mine.
She presses a kiss to the end of my nose, "I was learning then," She replies. "I got better. You made me better...in more ways than one," Her gaze locks onto mine, her eyes saying so much more than her words ever could.
I smile shyly, dipping my head to hide my blush. It's amazing how quickly an ex-Evil Queen can revert to a nervous teenager when in the right company. I thought that younger, innocent version of me was long gone, but it seems that Emma knows just how to tap into the very root of her soul.
Her arms slide up from my waist to straighten my shoulders and she takes a step back, tilting my chin up with the tip of her index figure. In the silence of the room she studies me, her eyes flicking over every line and scar on my face.
"What?" I ask, shifting uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
She shakes her head, "I'm just looking. I just…I can't believe that we're really here. That you're really mine."
My smile widens, our minds in perfect synch, "I've been thinking the exact same thing," I reply.
Her hands move from my shoulders and down my arms until she interlocks our fingers, pulling me towards her once more. She's pensive, a slight frown marring her expression, and though I know that she's perfectly content, there's a very real concern lying just underneath the surface.
I dip my head to catch her gaze, and give her hands a reassuring squeeze, "What?" I ask, undemanding.
She shrugs slightly and takes a deep breath, a reminder of the hidden vulnerability that her amour works tirelessly to protect. "My whole life all I ever wanted was a family, a place to call home…" she admits, her eyes locking onto mine, "You gave me that. You gave me it all. And now, it feels too good to be true. I'm terrified that I lose it all again."
I feel my heart constrict at the childlike naivety of her fear, the all too familiar reality of a loveless orphan. "Emma…."
"Just promise me that this is it," She pleads, gripping our hands together and lifting them so they're level with our hearts. "Promise me that we'll always have this feeling that's between us right now. Promise me that no matter how much we fight, or argue, or disagree…" her eyes close on a silent wish, "…promise me that we'll never lose this."
Her thoughts mirror my own, the deep-seated fears of two women with damaged hearts and a lifetime of broken dreams. In trusting each other, we're taking a risk that neither of us have ever been prepared to take before, and it's a terrifying step. As terrifying as giving voice to those three, tiny words, that we share unknowingly in every look and touch.
I press a chaste kiss to her soft lips, "I promise," I whisper against her mouth.
She pulls back slightly, green eyes meeting brown, "Really?"
I nod, "We're the same, you and I. We wage war against the world and everyone in it, when all we really want is someone to walk beside us."
I release one of her hands to thread my fingers through her blonde locks. Tugging on the back of her neck, I pull her forward and press my forehead against hers. "I've waited a lifetime for you," I confess. "I promise you, I'm not going anywhere."
I take a deep breath, mustering every last inch of my courage. When I speak again, it's to mutter the truest words I've ever said, "I love you. I always have."
She smiles then - that beautiful smile that lights up her entire face - that smile that I'd give my last breath for. "I love you too," she replies, and I feel my heart burst at the words, "and I always will."
I close the remaining distance between us and capture her mouth in a deep, searching kiss. It's sweet and passionate, and filled with so much feeling that I'm overcome with emotion. I want her as close as physically possible. I want to feel her skin against mine, her fingers inside me. I want to give her every last piece of me until she's taken everything I have.
I break the kiss, "Make love to me Emma, please…"
"Gina…" She whispers, giving her head a gentle shake, "…that's the one thing you never have to ask me for…"
We come together after that, a shared meeting of body and mind. Our kisses are deep and passionate, teetering on lust but laden with such all-consuming love that they last longer, and mean so much more.
We undress each other slowly, with playful, teasing curiosity that causes our muscles to quake and heightens our arousal to whole new levels. A ripped shirt here, an unclasped bra there, every newly discarded item only adding heat to the friction already burning between us.
Finally, naked, we both pause in the center of the room. Stunned into silence by the experience of truly seeing each other for the first time. Emma is beautiful – an angel on Earth – far more than this ex-villain could ever deserve.
Her eyes feast on my body, clearly thinking similar thoughts, "You're incredible!" She gasps.
Her words act as a trigger, and white hot desire takes over all rationale thought. She rushes me, lifting me off the floor to carry me to the bed before laying me gently down. Tenderly, lovingly, she maps out every last inch of my body from the scar at my lip to the tips of my polished toes, and when she's finished, I'm only too eager to roll her over and return the favor. Worshipping every ounce of soft, warm flesh with my mouth and tongue.
Our breasts are heaving, sweat coating our bodies as we pant for breath, and when I finally press our warm, wet, centers together, Emma cries out and throws her head back against the pillows beneath.
"I am so in love with you," She cries out, a disbelieving laugh drowned out by a moan of pure pleasure.
I smile, a euphoric happiness flooding every nerve ending in my oversensitive body, and press a kiss to her tilted chin, "I assure you the feeling is mutual," I reply, the words fading into a loud moan of my own.
Wrapping her leg around my waist, she pulls my center tight against hers and we both groan at the new sensation. Cupping my face in her hands she tugs my head towards her, and as I press a soft kiss to her cheek, she whispers hotly in my ear.
"Make me come, Madam Mayor."
Unsurprisingly, we reach that same exquisite high at the exact same time, before slowly floating back down to Earth, together.
xxx
Three rounds and an indeterminable amount of time later, I roll off Emma's delectable body and onto my back, panting heavily.
"Wow!"
She laughs – the 'oh boy am I lucky'- type of laugh, and drapes her arm over her eyes as she tries to catch her breath. "Oh yeah…." She agrees, aware that in our post-orgasmic haze, no further words are required.
My entire body aches with glorious satisfaction, and even as I feel the stretch of muscles that I'm not sure I've ever used before, I can already feel my libido gearing up for more. With Emma, I'm insatiable.
"God…" The blonde groans after a few silent, minutes. It's a groan of pleasure. "…Gina! Fuck! If I'd known it was going to be that good, I would have taken you against your wall on the night we first met!"
I chuckle, a deep throaty sound, and can't deny that even though I would never have allowed it to happen at the time, the suggestion alone would have made me ache with want.
"I have a feeling that I might have had something to say about that, dear," I reply, playfully.
She rolls onto her stomach and looks down at me with a cheeky grin, "Oh yeah?" She challenges, "I bet you would…" She leans down to brush her nose against mine, "Something along the lines of 'Oh god! Right there, Emma. Harder…please…!'"
I offer her a mock scowl and lightly thump her shoulder, offended by her poor imitation. She smiles back innocently, and leans down to press several, chaste kisses against my lips.
"Isn't that what you were just saying to me?" She teases.
I nod once, unable to argue the truth, but save her the embarrassment of repeating some of her more impassioned phrases. Needless to say, they were far more graphic than any of mine.
She collapses on top of me, nestling her head under my chin and wrapping her arms around my torso in a loose embrace. This, right here, is everything that I've always wanted. The passion and intensity of sex, followed by the warmth and comfort of love. I release a deeply satisfied sigh, having never felt more whole than I do right now.
"So…" She begins, in a tone I don't quite recognise, "The Swan Song, huh?"
I glance down at a sea of blonde hair, uncertain how to interpret that particular sentence, "You didn't like it?" I ask, my muscles tensing in preparation to flee.
"Of course I liked it!" She quickly replies, worried eyes flicking up to meet mine. "I loved it. It's just…." She winces, struggling to find the right words, "It was very public, very…un-you…"
I raise an eyebrow, trying to see her point but failing, "On the contrary, I thought it was very much me. I was always putting on shows in the Enchanted Forest, although then they were usually done with the intention to threaten and maim."
"But you've never done anything like that in Storybrooke," she carefully replies. "I mean; you were barely affectionate with Robin in public…"
"Robin wasn't my True Love," I remind, stroking my hand down her back, "And he didn't give me half his heart…"
She sits up then, her mouth wide in shock, "Are you saying that you did it because you felt like you owed me something?" She asks.
I open my mouth to reply but find myself uncertain how to answer. I certainly didn't do it to even the score if that's what she's suggesting, but I guess I was trying to prove that my love was equal to hers after an act so …selfless.
"Emma you gave me your heart," I state, desperately trying to put my feelings into words, "that's the greatest gift anyone could ever give. I just wanted to show you that I felt the same, and the only way I knew how was to be as big and bold as the Queen would have been."
I'm suddenly embarrassed, aware that my gesture was way over the top and probably made me look foolish in front of the entire town. I feel a deep blush flush across my cheeks, and try to pull away.
Emma stops me with a gentle hand to my collar bone, "Hey, it's okay," she soothes, bending down to kiss me again. "Regina, no one has ever done anything like that for me. It was amazing, you're amazing…"
"But…?" I prompt uneasily.
She chuckles, "Maybe forgo any future performances?" She suggests kindly, "You know, unless you want Mom dancing across the rooftops and Grumpy singing in the streets…"
I relax, finally grasping her point. My display was something straight out of Disney movie, and the last thing these fairytale folk need is encouragement to behave any more like their fictional stereotypes.
"Don't worry, Miss Swan, that was a one-time performance, I assure you." My gentle smile stretches into a wicked grin, "Anyway, as Mayor I have certain standards to adhere to. I'm too highly respected to keep making public declarations of love to someone as lowly as the town sheriff…"
She pouts petulantly, "Lowly huh? I don't hear you complaining about how low I am when I go down on you…?"
As she speaks her hand slides down my abdomen and disappears under the covers, stroking teasingly at the aforementioned part of my anatomy.
I gasp, instantly aroused by her touch, "And you never will!" I reply, pulling her down for a deep kiss. She stops me before our lips make contact.
"You did…keep the poem though, right?" She asks, the cutest expression flitting across her gorgeous face.
I shake my head, "I didn't need too," I whisper against her lips, "It's written across my heart."
This time she welcomes the kiss and it quickly turns heated, sparking the fiery desire within us once more. She moves on top of me, her muscular thigh slipping between mine to grind into me and a sensual moan is torn from my throat. Breaking our kiss, she takes the opportunity to kiss and lick a path down my neck until she sucks an erect nipple into her mouth.
I moan again, my fingers gripping at her hair as I hold her to me and thrust my hips up to meet her insistent thigh. I'm just about to demand more, when she abruptly looks up, her eyes darting to the red digits of my alarm clock.
"Shit!" She curses, quickly pushing up and off me.
My brain still foggy with arousal, it takes me a moment to realise that she's already out the bed and half way to the bathroom.
"What!?" I ask, confused by the sudden change of activity.
She pauses in the open doorway of my en suite and glances back over her shoulder, her expression a guilty one, "Baby, I have to go. There's somewhere I need to be very, very soon."
Outraged, I sit up, covering myself with the bedcovers, "Are you kidding me right now?" I reply, in a tone that brooks no argument. Emma knows the tone well, it's one I normally direct her way during town meetings.
"Honey, I'm really sorry. I meant to tell you earlier but…" her eyes rake over my body, the one she's well aware is naked and crying out for her touch, "…you're really fucking distracting and I just lost track of time."
Considering that the last few hours were unplanned and unexpected, I really have no genuine reason to be angry with about having somewhere else to be. Unfortunately, however, I've never been one to take kindly to being cast aside so easily - especially after the intimacy we've just shared – and the queen choses now to raise her ill-tempered head.
"Flattery won't help you here, Miss Swan," I growl, not missing the way Emma's pupils dilate at the formality, "And don't think you can placate me with a few pet names."
I hazard a glance to the clock, noting that it's thirteen minutes past seven, "Where do you need to be at this hour, anyway? Who in Storybrooke requires your presence more than you're highly aroused girlfriend?"
The blonde's look of fear melts into a warm smile at my slip of the tongue. We haven't actually discussed the formalities of our relationship yet, and I tense at the thought that I might have spoken presumptuously.
My worry is misplaced, "Girlfriend?" Emma repeats, grinning broadly, "I like it."
At the almost anticlimax of confirming our relationship status, I'm quickly reminded that she's yet to answer either of my questions, "I'm waiting!" I demand.
"It's just a work thing," She shrugs, passing it off as no big deal before giving me a suggestive wink, "I'll be back to fuck your brains out before you know it, your majesty."
She disappears into the bathroom with an over exaggerated swing of her hips, leaving me alone, sexually frustrated and extremely pissed off.
Five minutes later – and with the help of a little magic – she's showered, changed, and crawling across the bed to give me a parting kiss.
"Don't be angry with me, baby," she pouts, brushing her lips across mine. "The Mayor's a Bitch, and if I don't do my job she'll roast my ass!"
I stare down my nose at her, pretending to be angrier than I really am, "Your girlfriend is the Evil Queen and if you don't tend to her needs, she'll make you very, very sorry indeed!"
She kisses me again, "My girlfriend is the ex-Evil Queen," she corrects, her lips hovering over mine, "and she's sexy as hell and making it very difficult for me to leave right now…"
Gaining the upper hand, I smirk, "So stay," I suggest seductively, "She'll make it worth your while!"
She growls in the back of her throat, a sound that makes my core throb with need. "I can't," she laments, "but get rest while you can because you're not going to sleep much tonight."
She gives me a final quick kiss and jumps off the bed, grabbing her leather jacket as she heads for the door, "I love you."
Despite feigning anger, I find that I can't prevent the ridiculously happy smile that those words trigger. "I love you too," I reply, listening as she jogs down the stairs before slamming the front door behind her.
Alone again, I flop back down on the bed and grab for Emma's pillow, hugging it to my chest. The Egyptian cotton smells of her already, and I find it's a smell I could easily get used too.
Releasing a soft sigh of contentment, I think about how easily we've settled into domesticity in just a few short hours. Tonight was the first time Emma's ever been in my bed, and I already can't remember how it felt without her.
I close my eyes deciding on a short nap before I shower and eat, but just as I'm about to drift off, a loud vibrating pulls me back to the waking world. Opening my eyes, I realise that the sound came from the small cabinet at the other side of the bed. Emma, forgot her phone.
I reach across and snatch up the device, hoping that it isn't a message from David regarding the work they have to do. The last thing I need right now is a trip to the Sheriff's station to drop off a phone. I'm not sure that I'd be able to leave without first ravishing my girlfriend against the filing cabinets.
I smile at my new name for the blonde, already feeling as if it's the most natural thing to call her in the world, and swipe her phone to open the message.
Surprisingly, it's from Henry.
Mom, I know you've been busy with Ma but don't forget Operation Phoenix. Your invitation is for 8:30 at Granny's, and the whole town is expecting you to be there. Don't be late.
Operation Phoenix? Hook referred to such a thing during one of Zelena's memories, but what on Earth is it and why would Emma lie about where she was going?
I try to remain calm but it's not an easy task for a woman prone to temperamental fits of rage. Taking a deep breath, I return the phone to the cabinet and lay back down, staring at the ceiling above. What could Emma possibly be doing with Hook and Henry? And why at Granny's?
I attempt to ignore my sudden fear, to place trust in my girlfriend and forget what I've seen, but turning a blind eye simply isn't in my nature. After a moments deliberation, I push the covers aside and head straight for the shower.
I've got just under an hour to get ready and walk to Granny's, and Emma Swan better have a damned good explanation when I get there.
