Emma grinned, her eyes twinkling. "I will be when you take your shirt off."
Regina decided to let it go. Emma was not about to reveal herself to anyone. She took off her shirt, tantalisingly slowly, then gave in and magicked away the rest of their clothes.
She took a long moment to take in the woman beneath her, all toned abs and tanned skin, small, perfect breasts whose nipples were already tight - and that you couldn't fake, Regina thought a little smugly - collarbone arching like wings into her shoulders, muscular arms reaching up to touch her, storybook angel face but with wicked, glimmering green eyes that weren't in any book, tangled blonde hair fanning out on the white sheets, and a smile that lit up the whole room.
Regina placed her hands on Emma's stomach, moving them up over her ribs, relishing the feel of smooth skin. Emma grinned as Regina experimentally touched her breasts, gently squeezing one in each hand. Regina thought of the bird, fragile in her hand, entirely at her mercy. She looked down at Emma. She had never been intimate like this, she had never been free to do this. She leaned down; their breasts pressed together and Emma arched her back to bring them even closer. Regina felt Emma reach around her hips, pulling her ass in, forcing them together.
Regina, ever the strategist, quickly sat up and moved one of Emma's legs over her own to increase the contact, then leaned back down again, moaning slightly at the heat between her legs that was not just her own. She kissed Emma's jaw, her cheek… She resisted her lips, though she screamed internally at the thought of what they would feel like against hers, what Emma's tongue would feel like in her mouth. Emma didn't make it any easier; she followed Regina's mouth with hers, reciprocating her kisses, teasing her, daring her to break the rule. Regina refused. She would not do anything Emma did not want. She would not take what was not offered.
She rolled her hips; Emma gasped as they collided together. Regina reached down between them, cautiously sliding a finger into Emma's wetness, parting her folds and finding her clit. She hid her uncertainty. She was the Evil Queen, she did not do uncertain. She rubbed a circle around the bundle of nerves; Emma let out a kind of animal groan, arching into Regina's touch. Their mouths were so close to meeting- Regina couldn't take it, she sat up, testing Emma's flexibility as she forced the leg that was over hers further up to keep her hand and sex in place. Emma gasped at the shift, but accepted it. She had pushed too far with her mouth, she had been selfish, she had let her heart take control of her head.
She chose not to think about why her heart seemed so desperate to kiss the Evil Queen.
Regina bit her lip as she slipped a finger inside Emma. She felt the slick wetness, the walls tight around her. She looked into Emma's eyes. She knew how much being entered by someone could mean. She knew how much it could hurt. And as of last night, she knew how wonderful it could be. She checked herself. It was not always meaningful. Why would it mean the same to Emma? She did this all the time… But Regina had never done it. As she moved her finger back and forth, her thumb teasing Emma's centre, the back of her hand jostling her own, she felt power, but also responsibility. It mattered, somehow, mattered that she was pushing inside the body of this woman, this beautiful, amazing woman whose smile made her heart flutter, whose eyes made her feel like she was floating on a cloud over dazzling sunshine and rainbows-
Emma sat up suddenly.
"You're too far away," she gasped as Regina's finger went deeper inside. Regina could see she wanted more; she added another finger, trying to adjust so some part of her hand brought her with Emma. The green in Emma's eyes had almost disappeared; she bit down on Regina's neck, then stroked the bite with her tongue, soothing the angry red mark, kissing and sucking on the same spot as she dug her nails into Regina's back. Regina's hands mirrored Emma's; she struggled to keep up the rhythm as she wound tighter and tighter. Emma helped her, lowering her hands, moving Regina's whole body, but she wasn't too forceful, she knew Regina wanted the control, and she was more than capable of wielding it.
"Fuck," Regina groaned as Emma bit down at the base of her neck. She was close, so close. They were both straining their legs but the pain only served to excite them even more; it made everything more urgent, they moved faster, pressing even closer together, creating yet more friction between their bodies.
Regina moved her hand a fraction, paying even more attention to Emma's clit. Emma lasted a few more seconds before she came undone; Regina felt a wave of liquid coat her hand and broke with her. They shook in each other's arms, crying out in a kind of competition until Regina was sure her wrist would break. Emma finally fell back with a sigh of contented relief, her body still trembling with aftershocks. Regina lifted her soaked hand, twisting her wrist to loosen it in a way that almost made Emma come again, just from watching.
Regina seemed to be considering the hand. Emma just looked at her, frozen, somehow incredibly excited by what Regina might do next. Regina smiled, realising what she was doing. That was the decider. She could smell the cocktail of their arousal, rich and salty. She felt wickedly good, as if it should be shameful, but it couldn't be. Nothing with Emma could be shameful. Nothing that felt like that could be wrong. She parted her lips; Emma shuddered as she slid her fingers into her mouth and licked them clean.
Regina moaned at the taste, so much better than she had anticipated. She hadn't expected to like it, but something about Emma, combined with the way the girl was looking at her, made it the most delicious thing she had ever tasted. And it was her, too. Them. Emma pulled her down onto the bed.
"Come here," she groaned.
And before Emma knew what she was doing, her mouth was on Regina's and she was kissing her for all she was worth. Emma could taste them in Regina's mouth, the sticky sweetness, the salty tang, and Regina's warm breath that refreshed her somehow. Their tongues slid together, they explored each others mouths, their bodies mimicking the movement of their lips. Emma felt herself being pulled to the brink again, just by Regina's mouth.
And she forgot. She forgot why she was there, she forgot about the money, about the lies, the life of running, the life of pain. She forgot that she was with a queen, she forgot that this was a job, she forgot that this was exactly why she never kissed on the mouth - not because she would forget, but because they might. And then she remembered Regina, that she was here for Regina, and she reached down and stroked her finger over Regina's clit until Regina came again, their mouths still locked together in the most passionate kiss either had ever experienced.
Regina collapsed into Emma, their mouths finally parting, but she refused to have a repeat of last night. She sent a burst of energy through herself (Emma was pretty sure she used magic) then slid down Emma's body, tasting her directly from the source, massaging with her tongue until Emma screamed with another release.
Emma pulled her up again; she could feel the question coming already but she didn't want to hear it. She silenced Regina with her mouth, her awful, rule-breaking mouth, and they kissed for something which could have been anything from seconds to hours - they had no sense of time.
Regin's whole world had disappeared. There was nothing but Emma. Miss Swan. Miss…
She forced herself away, her reluctance obvious. She took several minutes to get her breath back, minutes during which she could not even look at the blonde. Emma just lay there, gasping, wondering what the hell she was doing, and what the hell she was going to say.
"You kissed me," Regina said firmly. It was true. She hadn't started it. But she had definitely caused it to escalate. Much to their mutual pleasure.
"Yes," Emma said. She was talking to the ceiling again. She had a feeling she and that ceiling were going to become friends.
"Are you okay, Miss Swan?"
It was an excellent question. Excellent because it was the right question to ask. And excellent because no one but Regina ever would have asked it. It was also excellent because Emma had no idea.
"I'm fan-fucking-tastic," Emma said eventually, her face breaking out into a grin. She had decided. It had been fucking amazing. She had never been kissed like that. Maybe her whole life was ruined. Maybe she'd never be the same again. But it was worth it. So worth it. Regina was worth losing her heart over. Emma chuckled at the bad joke.
Regina frowned, not understanding the laughter. Emma blushed.
"Sorry, I just made a joke in my head. I… I'm fine, Your Majesty."
Regina sighed, settling back down in the bed, seeing the benefit of talking to the ceiling, too.
"I feel strange, that you call me that."
They stared resolutely upwards. Regina pulled the sheet over her legs, feeling suddenly exposed. Emma covered herself too.
"What would you like me to call you?"
Regina sighed again. "I do not know."
"Some guy called me 'son' once," Emma said. "That was fucking weird."
Regina let out a burst of awkward laughter. She was not sure how she felt about Emma's job. She tried not to think about it, but when she considered all the people Emma had been with… No matter if there were thousands, they could not be as bad as the man Regina had married. And she might tell herself that she was forced, that she had no choice, but she had been at the wedding, she had said the words, she had made the vows… And then she had murdered him, of course. She could never be as disgusted by anything as she was by herself. Emma's profession was nothing. Emma was right, it was a job, a job with a lot in common with many others.
"Will you stay the week?" Regina asked.
Emma nodded, then realised they weren't looking at each other. "Yes."
Regina paused. She sounded like she really wanted to. "Can we… Can we kiss again?"
Emma sighed. Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. "I don't think I would be able to go an hour in your presence without kissing you, let alone a week."
"Right. Good."
"I'm glad you think so."
"I… Miss Swan, I… But, never mind. You must be tired."
"I'm not tired. What did you want to say?"
They continued to stare at the ceiling. It was intricately decorated.
"I find myself curious about you. Who you are. May I ask about you?"
Emma loved that she asked. "How about a trade? Question for question."
Regina was about to say no when she realised how equal this made them. Emma wanted them to be equal. Regina knew it was foolish to expect Emma to do anything more than what she was paid for, but there were so many suggestions…
"Okay," she heard herself say. She was suddenly terrified.
"You can ask first," Emma said. Regina didn't miss a beat.
"Why did you kiss me?"
"It was right."
"What do you-"
"Nope, no further questions. My turn." Emma took a deep breath. "Have you ever enjoyed sex?"
Regina blushed. "Not until last night," she mumbled. Emma reached around in the bed for her hand. "But you knew that," Regina added.
"I wanted to check… You're very brave, you know?"
"For hiring a prostitute? Yes, so brave. But it's my turn. Do you have a family?"
"Yes. But I don't speak to them."
"What-"
"Wait your turn. Greedy. Now you. What happened to your mother?"
Emma wondered if Regina would call her out on the invasive questions, but she seemed to be answering them without protest.
"I banished her to another realm. She is still there, so far as I know. Now you. What happened with your family?"
Emma did not often think of her parents, but for Regina, she felt compelled to try. "I'm an only child. A much wished for, much protected child. I could never be the girl my parents wanted. And then when I was fifteen, I found out a terrible secret, something they had done before I was born, something they had done to ensure that I was the perfect child they wanted. They had lied to me my whole life. So I ran away. They believe that I am dead."
"Do they really deserve that?"
"Yes. And that's two questions. I get two turns. Did you really order an entire village of people to be killed just because they would not help you kill Snow White?"
They were still holding hands. The ceiling was becoming ever more compelling to look at.
"Yes."
"Why?"
Regina didn't know where to start. To her horror, her eyes were prickling with tears. She closed them, a single droplet rolling over the side of her face and into her hair. It was such a long story. But the thing was, no matter the story, what she had done was unforgivable. Not that she needed forgiveness. She was the Evil Queen. She sought forgiveness from no one. She could not think about why she cared what Emma thought of her, what Emma felt about her.
"Because I thought blood would wash away my pain."
"What changed?"
Regina was amazed that Emma had still not pulled her hand away.
"It is my turn," she said, holding back a sob. "How can you… How can you stand to touch me?"
Emma gripped her hand even tighter. "Because we are more than our mistakes," she said softly. "And because I am sure there is more story than I know. And what I know would be enough to torture a soul for eternity. What I infer is… Horrific. And I think there is even more than that. You've done awful things. Evil things. I have always admired something about you. Your strength. And now, last night, and today, I saw… You are a remarkable woman, Regina."
Regina jolted at the use of her first name. No one called her that. Emma rubbed her hand, drawing circles with her thumb.
"Do you want to sleep?" she asked.
"Is that your question?"
Emma pulled her closer. "Yes. Regina… I know you think I should, I know you think everyone should, but I don't hate you. I really don't."
Regina snuggled into Emma's hold. She fitted too well to do anything else.
"I don't hate you either," she said quietly. She had meant it as a joke, a truth, but an obvious one. It meant far more to Emma than she knew.
They lay together in silence, both wide awake, both holding back everything they wanted to say, everything they felt. They never considered that the other might be feeling just the same as them, because they were both certain of one thing if nothing else: they were far too broken to be loved. And yet, neither could stop hoping, could stop clinging to the tiny sliver of light which was that, while they had heretofore believed otherwise, they were not too broken to love another.
A/N: I spent like 10 minutes deciding whether to use heretofore or write "up until now" (which is what it means) and in the end I went for it because I'm a badass literature student and it means exactly what I want it to. Thank you so much for your feedback - as you can see, there were many requests for the depth of development I hope this chapter offered. Reviews make my heart sing. And they make me write more. So much more. And so much better!