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After the cocktail hour, the wedding party retreated into the tent that had been set up for the reception, a small, makeshift dance floor adorning the center. Emma had expressed doubts to David that the space would be workable for even a small reception. She had plenty of experience catering events over the years, and she initially thought the spot would be too remote to work with. But looking around, she had to hand it to Mary Margaret, stepping inside the tent felt like entering a portal to another world, and Emma was completely enchanted. Dainty glass candelabras adorned the tables and tall white vases housed ladylike White Peony and Calla Lily bouquets, creating a wintry fairytale scene worthy of a princess.
But short of the flowers turning into doves and flying off the tables, nothing could have distracted Emma from Regina orbiting around her. She did everything she could to devote herself to being present at the wedding, to celebrating with their friends, and giving David and Mary Margaret the party they deserved. But every stolen glance, every brush of a hand, every overheard fragment of a conversation was a setback in that endeavor. She was always sexy and beautiful, but tonight, although she looked the tiniest bit thin to Emma, Regina was positively radiant.
She'd hear her nearby making smalltalk with another guest or telling a story, and that velvety voice alone had a dizzying effect. Emma would take a deep breath, sip her champagne, laugh a little more vigorously at a joke, and thrust herself into the moment. But then she'd catch a whiff of that scent she wore and a glimpse of that red dress, and her body and mind would betray her in equal measure.
She should have felt quelled or at least assuaged by their declared feelings for each other, but instead her nerves were itchy, and a million thoughts and questions had chaotically scattered about her mind. Should she trust someone who was capable of dismantling her with such ease? Could she trust her own instincts? Was Regina really in love with her, or was she just lonely? But one persistent, dogged question shouted over all the others, determined to be heard. Where do they go from here?
But despite her distractedness, she danced with David and even ate a little dinner, letting her champagne high propel her through the evening.
She was standing at the bar laughing with a red-cheeked David when she felt a hand grip her wrist, pulling her insistently away. Mary Margaret looked apologetically at her new husband as she yanked Emma in the direction of the entrance.
"Sorry, Charming. Wardrobe malfunction. I need backup, STAT!"
Emma shrugged and let herself be led, scampering to keep up with the bride.
Mary Margaret pulled a confused Emma into the coat closet and released her, immediately digging into a little pouch she'd brought along.
"I'm glad to help, but I have to warn you, if it's not edible, I'm not the most useful person. And I got kicked out of the Girl Scouts. So… What's up, buttercup?"
Mary Margaret turned around, unimpressed by Emma's provisos, and pointed ardently to a gaping hole in the back of the dress where a few buttons had popped loose. Then she reached her hand back and opened her fist, showing a handful of safety pins. She held them out to Emma, as if it was obvious what needed to be done.
Emma took them from her hand and took a step toward Mary Margaret.
"You know, you may be better off with Regina. She's really good with this kind of girly stuff. I'm, like, the person you call if your lamb is a little tough or if you need a wine to pair up with penne arrabiata," she said. But Mary Margaret's face remained staunch and impassive, so Emma proceeded. "This seems like some pretty fancy Oscar de la Renta couture shit, so I take no responsibility if I destroy it."
"Emma. I need you. Please, just fix it, and stop talking."
With timid hands, the blonde put a couple of pins between her teeth, opening one and gathering the fabric of the dress together in the space the missing buttons had vacated. She went about creating her makeshift stitch job, doing her best to hide the pins, and finally she felt Mary Margaret relax underneath her as she closed the hole.
"Thank you," the bride muttered.
"Oh, you don't have to thank me. No biggie."
"No. Not for this. For… caring so much, for being such a good friend to David. Believe it or not, I think being friends with you made him a much better person... The kind of person I wanted to marry."
The blonde felt her face flush and her mouth fall open.
"Uh, I'm not sure you can thank me for that either. Of the two of us, he's really been the better friend. I mean… he saved me. I have no idea what would have happened to me, what I could have possibly become if it wasn't for him," Emma said, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. "He saw something in me and he helped me realize it. He's a great guy, and I'm really glad you found each other."
She finished her task and appraised the haphazardly repaired material, smoothing it out and readjusting it across Mary Margaret's curves with brusque, staccato motions.
"There," she breathed. "All good."
Mary Margaret turned around, offering Emma a tender smile.
"You're wrong, Emma. David says you've always been more than you thought you were. He may have appreciated your talent before others really had the chance, but you saw the goodness in him before anyone else did. People thought he was cocky as hell, unreliable, one note. And he was, or at least that's what he says. But not you. You saw him as a brother, a mentor. You'll never know what that mean to him," Mary Margaret said in a soft, silky voice, her brown eyes wide. "You're a special person. Don't sell yourself short."
She breeched the foot of space between them and wrapped the surprised blonde in a chaste hug before tugging up the bustled train of her dress and scurrying out of the coat check. Emma hung back, trying to gather her frayed emotions. She didn't view herself as a fragile person, but lately it took so little to open old wounds, unearth insecurities she thought she had long since buried deep within the recesses of her brain. She dug a compact out of her bag and peered into the mirror with a frustrated sigh, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Pull it together, Emma.
She took a few deep breaths and walked out from the closet, meandering into the tent to the edge of the dance floor. She had enough. She just wanted to find Regina, to revel in her.
Emma scanned the tent, wide green eyes searching until they landed on a petite, graceful body, encased in the loveliness of her red dress, fabric that clung and snuggled and revealed and bewitched. Regina was nestled by the bar, and as if she felt eyes upon her, she peered up, finding Emma in an instant. Her face curled into a wide, fully lit smile, and Emma felt something warm and delicious fill her, and she cruised straight ahead, taking long, confident, purposeful strides.
She arrived at Regina at full speed, pinning her back to the bar with an audible oomph, and she let their fronts collide but held her face static just a fraction from Regina's. All the questions and fears that were assaulting her just moments before melted, a hot knife through butter, the tendrils of want and desire creeping and curling into her.
Regina could see it in Emma's eyes and feel it in her body, the acuity of everything she was feeling. And really, it was the thing she loved about her most, the way she would switch from easy going and childlike to passionate and intense in the space of a moment. And she was feeling it, too. After being apart from each other for the better part of a month and thinking she'd never have the chance to touch her again, to talk to her, to love her, and now having her standing right before her—it was overwhelming.
Regina tented their heads together, trying to control her own breathing. She let her hands come to rest on the small of Emma's back, gently sliding her fingers along the silky fibers of Emma's blue dress.
"Emma," Regina whispered.
"Mmm?"
"Will you leave with me? Is it too soon, or—"
"—Lets go," Emma said, lacing their hands together and pulling her toward the spot on the dance floor where David and Mary Margaret were huddled together.
Emma suddenly felt a little awkward, but Regina stepped right in front of them insistently, pulling David by the lapels.
"Mr. and Mrs. Charming," Regina said with a broad smile, "Thank you for a wonderful evening—this is one of the most beautiful weddings I have ever attended. But I think Miss Swan and I will be going, if that's all right."
David looked like he was about to object, but Mary Margaret silenced him with a pointed look. She brought Emma in for a hug and kissed her on the cheek before releasing her and moving to Regina. Emma found herself staring at David with baleful eyes. She leaned into him.
"Is this… ok? I'm sorry if I—"
"Go. I want you to go. You two deserve a moment. We'll talk when we get back."
Emma pulled back to look at him, to see if he meant his words, and he gave her a wink, a small smile dancing across his face.
"Bye, Charming."
"Adios, Swan," he said, nudging her with his hip.
Regina grabbed her hand in her own and pulled her out into the night.
They drove together, Emma having agreed to pick up her car the next day. The darkness was heavy as they drove through the Blue Hills. Emma didn't know where they were going, but she didn't really care either, so she let Regina drive them without asking any questions.
The car was quiet, but a noisy anticipation had settled between them. Emma took a few heavy breaths, trying to slow her pounding heart back to a regular pace. Regina said nothing, but she pulled Emma's hand into her lap, cradling the digits tenderly. The blonde looked up and studied Regina's face, her eyes steely and determined, a tiny frown nestled at her brow, and Emma wasn't sure what she was seeing.
After just five minutes, Regina turned into the parking lot of a Homewood Suites, slid into a spot, and turned off the ignition. She wordlessly unbuckled her seatbelt and opened her door, grabbing a small bag from the trunk before coming around to the passenger side, and opening the door for Emma. She reached out her hand to the blonde, helping her step out of the car, and led the way to the lobby. Emma hung back while Regina checked them in. She couldn't do anything about her racing heart, but she was determined to quiet her mind. Whatever happened, whatever this was, she loved this woman. She knew she did. And she was going to be in this moment, experience it and revel in it, even if it was over all too soon.
Regina returned to her, dipping her head down to catch Emma's green eyes, prying a small smile out of her. They stepped into an elevator and headed up to the fifth floor, eyes cast down, hands still linked. Regina led them to their room, pushed in the key card, and opened the door, tossing her bag on the desk.
Emma stood stock still in the entryway, afraid if she made any sudden moves, she'd wake herself from the dream she was was having. But Regina came to stand in front of her, wordlessly dropping to a knee and helping Emma step out of her heels. She slid her hands up Emma's left ankle and then her right, her fingertips lighting a trail of fire as she went.
She stood, stepping out of her own heels, and coming to her full height in front of Emma. Regina prowled toward her then, pushing her gently backwards until Emma's back hit a wall. She cupped her cheeks with both hands and inched her face closer, leaving Emma breathlessly anticipating a kiss. But she stopped just short of her lips.
"I know I've given you every reason to doubt my words. And I have so many regrets about that. But Emma, being without you, it felt like all the color was just drained out of my life. Everything tasted bland. I—I'm desperately in love with you. And we don't have to do anything right now. We can just be here, together. But if you'll let me, I want to show you how much I love you, so you can feel it," Regina said in a whisper.
A tiny whimper escaped Emma's mouth, and then it was like an explosion. Regina pushed her lips against Emma's, arms wrapping around each other, fingers burrowing into hair, hands roaming, seeking out bare skin. There was tracing and retracing—they were kissing each other with ferocity and need until finally Emma felt a palm square in the chest, pushing her back.
She looked up with heavy lidded eyes, trying to see through a haze of desire. Regina quirked an eyebrow at her and reached for her hand, leading her to the bed. She walked around to stand behind Emma, pulling her hair from her neck so she could kiss and nip the skin there, licking and sucking, making her moan. She reached up to the zipper of Emma's dress and held it between her fingers, wrapping her other arm around Emma's waist.
"Is this ok?" Regina asked.
"Yesss," Emma hissed.
Regina slid the zipper all the way down, pulling the fabric free and smoothing her hands on the exposed, buttery skin of Emma's back. Regina slipped her hands inside to the front of the dress, finding Emma's breasts and cupping them in her hands. She just held them, feeling their weight, pushing her front against Emma's exposed back, the dress falling uselessly to the floor.
"Oh god," Emma whispered, looking down her nearly naked body, but for a thong and a pair of hands covering her breasts. She felt her face flush hotly at the sight.
Regina walked around to Emma's front and unzipped her own dress, leaving her in a skimpy pair of red panties that covered just the tiniest bit of flesh. She tossed the dress to the side with uncharacteristic carelessness, and moved Emma to sit on the bed, climbing onto her lap and straddling her hips.
"Is this still ok? Do you want me to stop?" Regina asked, ghosting a kiss to her lips.
"I never want you to stop," Emma said, her voice gravelly and hoarse with want. "Make me feel you, Regina."
The brunette groaned, wetness pooling between her own legs at Emma's admission.
"Emma, I love you," Regina said, and immediately grabbed the underside of her breast and dipped her head to suck a nipple into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around and around it, suckled it, and then began to bite until she had Emma moaning, her back arched and her head tipped back. By the time she had Emma's other breast in her mouth, the blonde began to mutter and whimper, and Regina couldn't help but smile against her.
She stayed on her lap but wriggled a hand in between their heated bodies, let her fingers drag down from her belly button, through the short, fine hairs on her public bone, and into the wetness should found between her thighs. Someone groaned and whimpered at the sensation, but neither was sure who. As she let her fingers slide and dance carelessly through her folds, Regina kissed Emma fiercely, possessing her lips in a heated kiss.
"I love you," she said again, sliding off her lap and down to the floor, hooking Emma's legs over her shoulders. Emma felt Regina's tongue enter her and then run tantalizingly slowly around her clit. And then she felt Regina enter her with two fingers, finding her so wet that she added a third.
"Regina!" she gasped. "Please. Please, don't stop. You feel... so good." Emma looked down to watch what Regina was doing to her, and it was almost too much. She was somehow all-consuming and yet not enough all at once. Her heart was pumping wildly—she felt on fire. The brunette was lost in Emma's body, reveling in every grunt and and murmur, in her scent, in the way she tasted, in how she felt. She thrust in and out of her with her fingers and then finally sucked her clit into her mouth and nibbled and pulled and sucked again until she felt Emma's body wriggle and throb and tense around her. Emma cried out, overcome with feeling and ecstasy.
Regina had never felt anything like it—Emma's walls actually pulsed around her hand and then wetness coated her face and fingers as the orgasm pulled her under.
Regina was so lost in the moment that she continued to lick and lap at Emma relentlessly, keeping her fingers buried inside her, and before she knew it, Emma was twitching and pulsing once again.
She came out from between her legs and climbed on top of Emma, whose body was still quaking, reeling in the aftershocks. Regina moved all the way up her body and kissed her, pulling back and waiting for Emma to open her eyes.
"You cheated," Emma said, her words long and lazy. "You used some kind of witchcraft. You touched me here and I felt it… everywhere."
Regina laughed.
"That's not magic, baby," she said, shaking her head. "That's my love."
"Oh," Emma said.