A/N: I will add a short note to this chapter as it is one that was commented on as being a little rough. If this is your first time reading this fic, the storyline does progress to explore a kinder/ less hostile relationship (not to give too much away!). I'm trying to refrain from putting too many warnings here, there and everywhere, as the majority of the story doesn't need them, but yes, there are a few chapters that border on mild violence/ light S&M. I will make a brief mention when this seems applicable to bring up.
"Fuck you, Regina."
"Please, Sheriff."
The brunette smirks as she continues teasing soft tresses smugly, ready to make a smart quip about the Sheriff's high sex drive given her wording.
She never gets a chance to vocalise her chosen retort, as the air is suddenly knocked rudely from her lungs. With a yelp of surprise - not to mention a small helping of pain - Regina finds herself being grabbed by the upper arms with bruising force and spun unceremoniously around to be shoved up hard against the door.
The blonde's face is alight with anger, and the flash of her teeth holds no hint of her previous long-suffering, yet playful smirk. The Mayor drinks in this new version of the Sheriff warily; sensing an air of danger about the younger woman which is both tantalizing and a little unnerving.
"... Is there a problem, Sheriff?"
"I told you to let me down!"
Emma's voice breaks with low thunder that strikes the Mayor deliciously to her core despite the force with which the blonde presses her forearm to her throat; pinning her in place. She smirks disdainfully at the woman panting hotly in her face; refusing to allow her growing concern for her current lack of oxygen to show.
"And so I did, dear, once you behaved and showed me some manners..."
She reasons, hating the strained quality of her voice, but the Sheriff seems barely to have even heard her. Strong fingers dig mercilessly into the soft flesh of her arms once again and Regina finds herself being thrown forcefully into the centre of the room. She loses her footing when she tries to avoid slamming into the coffee table; gripping uselessly at plush fabric for purchase before she lands gracelessly on her knees between the sofa and table. The look she throws over her shoulder at the blonde is comprised of sheer shock; the brutality shown towards her something she is completely virgin to.
"What the hell do you think you-"
"-I told you I didn't like being cuffed!"
In the impending darkness, Emma casts an eery figure - luminescently pale - and her stance openly aggressive.
Predatory.
Never before has the Mayor wished quite so desperately for the warming security of her powers.
"Miss Swan, I-"
"-Shut up."
Regina blinks at this sharp command in disbelief; turning awkwardly to face the blonde fully, but remaining down on her knees for the time being as she is wretchedly unsure about the current turn of events.
In spite of the brunette's doubtful submission, Emma doesn't bat an eye. She's sure the darker woman is expecting a smirk, a smile, some form of recognition for their switch in roles, but this isn't about that. She had expressed her displeasure about being strung up and rendered helpless, and knows full well that the Mayor has an understanding as to why she would be so distraught to find herself in such a predicament.
If she wants to play dirty, then so be it. Let her see how much she really likes this fucked up version of role-play.
Emma throws the brunette a look of such venom that the darker woman remains frozen in place. There is something hard - metallic - in her gaze as she kicks at the fallen cuffs that lie at her feet with disgust. Stalking over to the discarded heap of her coat, she shucks it over her naked form swiftly, before turning back to the woman still down on her knees. The blonde walks towards her lazily, relishing the way dark eyes glitter up at her displaying a silent war between wariness and want. Upon reaching the brunette, Emma simply walks past her, plucking the near-empty carafe of cider from the table and taking it with her to perch on the lacquered top of the Mayor's desk. The latter turns around to face her and fails to quell a visible shiver as the blonde tips the cider to her lips; purposefully allowing it to trickle not just into her mouth but in sweet freshets down the pale skin of her throat, too.
The Sheriff casts a strangely regal silhouette; her bare form covered only by the heavy fabric of her parka; the hood pulled up to cast her features into shadow beneath the fur trim, while the tracks made by the cider glisten temptingly. She crosses one leg over the other to hide her sex and watches as the brunette sits warily back on her heels; still not quite daring to get up. The fact that the blonde's eyes are hidden in the darkness cast by her coat, leaving just the bruised sneer of her lips, causes Regina to feel the need to tread very carefully indeed.
"Miss Swan..."
She tries uncertainly, and the Sheriff presses a finger warningly against her lips but her expression remains otherwise unreadable. Despite it going against every fibre of her being, Regina lets her voice trail off obediently into silence. The blonde allows the tension to build wordlessly between them a little while longer, before removing her finger from her mouth and dipping her hand into the pocket of her coat. When it resurfaces, its bounty is instantly recognisable for what it is.
She knows she can't actually use the gun. Not for this game. After all, Regina knows full well that she would never shoot her, and so her bluff would be too easily called. But, for the brief moment in which she holds the cool steel and the Mayor's eyes flicker nakedly up at her, she feels like a god. In fact, she feels the way she imagines Regina had felt when observing her strung up in the cuffs... And this is a very particular form of power play.
The Mayor made it so.
Not just by using the cuffs... But by whispering those hateful things about the blonde's time spent behind bars while keeping her tethered up like a lamb for sacrifice.
Let's see how badly she really wants to know about that life now.
"Get up. Get up and come here."
Emma gives a faint upwards jerk of the gun to accompany her words, but her fingers remain firmly wrapped around the butt; nowhere near the trigger. Regina pushes herself up cautiously to obey and the blonde places the weapon carefully to her side and waits as the brunette makes her way over. Once the Mayor stands a couple of feet in front of her, she uncrosses her legs and lets her feet touch down onto the cool stone of the floor; gaining back her height advantage. She beckons the darker woman with a crook of her finger and waits patiently as Regina closes the distance between them once more.
The brunette moves to caress the soft skin promised beneath Emma's coat cautiously. There is a dangerous charge in the air between them, and this newly discovered side of the Sheriff is making her extremely nervous. Still, with those nerves comes an ache between her legs, as the adrenaline coursing through her blood in response to the younger woman's actions has her feeling deliciously light-headed. Her wrist is caught instantly as she extends her hand towards Emma's stomach through the dark wings of her coat, and she gives a small grunt when she's quickly spun around so that her hips collide with the edge of the desk; the blonde now stood behind her, breathing onto the exposed skin of her nape as she keeps hold of her wrist at an awkward angle.
"I'm going to let go, and you're going to put your hands down flat on the table. Both of them. Slowly."
Emma murmurs into her ear and Regina nods; apprehensively curious to see where this is going. True to the younger woman's word, her wrist is released from its painful hold behind her back, and she brings it down so that her hand rests parallel to the other on the hard surface of the desk. The blonde praises the action huskily and leans over her exposed form in order to snatch something from across the table in a glitter of silver; her legs brushing distractingly against the smooth skin at the back of the brunette's thighs in the process.
"Now, push all this shit off the table."
The Sheriff orders, and Regina rolls her eyes in spite of her predicament; the request too reminiscent of badly-scripted porn to be taken seriously. Her failure to comply is swiftly reprimanded, however, and she lets out a shocked hiss as slender fingers wind roughly into her hair; pulling her head back to expose her throat. The chilling sensation that follows of metal on flesh sparks her first real flicker of fear, and she gasps as the blonde presses the sharp edge of the steel letter opener more forcefully against the underside of her jaw.
"Oh my God..."
"You can just call me Emma..."
There is little humour present in the Sheriff's tone in spite of her contrary quip, and she keeps the cold steel carefully in place; offsetting its chill as her heat presses firmly against the Mayor's backside. Regina closes her eyes, overwhelmed by how this situation is affecting her; she is both uncomfortably aroused, and at the same time becoming less and less sure of her safety at the blonde's hands.
"Let's try listening, shall we?"
A purposeful dig of the sharp point of the instrument to her throat and the brunette shudders as, for the first time, she experiences an intentional application of pain. She removes her hands from their rigid position on the table top - leaving behind crescents of sweat from her palms - and sweeps the various papers and documents off the desk in one smooth motion. It doesn't go unnoticed by either of them that Emma's gun is amongst the items to hit the floor - making a hollow clunk as it lands - but the blonde seems to pay the loss of her weapon little mind. Her attention remains on the implement currently pressed to the Mayor's jugular.
"Good"
She speaks the word into the salted skin of the Mayor's throat; not quite kissing, but letting her lips brush teasingly against flesh.
"Now, get up onto the table. On your back."
Emma steps away just enough to allow the brunette room to comply, and the latter can't help but feel a slight pang of disappointment at the loss of contact between her bare flesh and the blonde's. A part of her seethes angrily at the Sheriff's gall in demanding her way; not used to following orders under any circumstance since escaping the wrath of her mother. The rest of her - the part that craves release from the ache the younger woman has been expertly nurturing between her legs - is eager to comply, and she lets this latter part win out.
Moving to the edge of the desk, Regina pulls herself up onto its surface before shimmying her hips so that she sits a little closer to the centre. Throwing the blonde a loaded look, she reclines onto her back. The desk is large and allows for the lip at the edge to comfortably support the drape of her legs at the knee, while still giving her enough room above her head so that her upper body is completely supported. She lets her hands fall to her sides and hopes her chest isn't too flushed with obvious excitement. She isn't exactly sure what to expect, but when the Sheriff makes no immediate move, she cranes her neck curiously to find Emma running the steel point of the letter opener thoughtfully over her bottom lip.
Dear god, I will never be able to look at that thing again without getting aroused...
She swallows.
The Sheriff removes the sharp implement from her lips and resumes her silent observation, the brunette becoming unnerved once more as she still can't make out the younger woman's eyes beneath her hood.
"I told you I didn't like being cuffed..."
Emma finally offers, and Regina sighs; boring of this line of conversation. Once again, she fishes for a fitting comeback but only gets so far as rolling her eyes before being accosted with the sharp prick of the letter opener; this time against the peak of her hip. She quietens instantly, forcing herself to remain still. The dangerous steel drags gently up her stomach to play across her ribs; hard enough to leave slow, reddening lines in its wake but careful not to cut. Emma takes in the distinct quickening of the Mayor's breath - coming now at what is almost a pant - and allows herself a small smile.
"You said you wouldn't ask me how I got my scar if I didn't want to tell you... Perhaps, I ought to show you."
Shaking her head, Regina instantly makes to call an end to their charade; her arousal now well and truly overshadowed by her fear, but a warning jab from the metal currently skimming the underside of her breast keeps her frozen in place. At a pace that is cruelly slow, the sharp point of the letter opener drags back down the valley between her breasts before straying to one side to graze over her ribs. When Emma reaches the place on the brunette's torso where her scar mars her own flesh, she increases the force with which she presses the blade into the Mayor's skin; leaving behind a clear, raised line to mirror her own. Easing up the pressure as she reaches the point just above the brunette's navel, she erases any memory of pain as she continues grazing the cool steel down Regina's stomach to skim into the neat curls at her mound, before letting it whisper momentarily against her sex and leaving a thin trail of her arousal down her inner thigh.
"Emma..."
Regina whispers as the blonde casually wipes the blade free of her excitement using the bare skin of her stomach. Offering no response, the younger woman stalks around to the end of the table at which the Mayor's head rests. Looking up into the shadow of the blonde's hood, Regina is finally able to make out her eyes, and the hard lust in them just about pushes her over the edge.
"I'm sorry..."
She's not sure if she really means it, but it's the only sensical thing that comes to mind, and she imagines it's what Emma has been waiting for. She doesn't really care, either way, she just needs release.
"No, you're not. But you will be..."
With this, the blonde clambers up onto the table, resting so that she straddles the brunette's chest; restricting her breath. Regina gasps, the position offering her a spectacular view, but causing her lungs to feel as though they're on fire. Emma runs the flesh-warmed blade lightly over the Mayor's lips - leaving behind the faint flavour of metal and lust - before leaning down to sample some for herself. The matted fur of her hood brushes teasingly across the brunette's hair and face and is heavy with the smell of rain.
Once Regina's eyes slip closed, the Sheriff manoeuvres herself with a peculiar display of grace. She travels up the body of the Mayor until she kneels above the darker woman's lips; the toggles of her coat dragging lightly over hot flesh as she moves.
And parkas, I will never be able to look at parkas the same way...
"Show me you're sorry..."
Emma's tone still holds a detached note of brittleness that makes her command impossible to deny.
Not that the Mayor has any intention to do so.
She runs her hands up the smooth skin of the blonde's thighs and presses her palms gently but pointedly against the taut muscle that lines their insides; communicating that the younger woman should spread her legs wider to bring her lower. The Sheriff complies, stretching easily, and brings her heat closer to the brunette's waiting mouth. Regina renews her grip on the blonde's thighs and runs her tongue slowly over glistening folds.
As the blonde's breathing becomes broken and irregular, the Mayor pulls her down completely; teasing her mercilessly until she feels lightheaded with lack of air and the sinewy muscle beneath her palms begins to flex in time with her sweet torture.
Emma rides out her pleasure with her weight on her knees, rising up just enough to allow the woman beneath her to breathe as slender fingers stroke at the hot flesh of her thighs. Once she regains control of her limbs, she swings herself easily off the desk and returns the gaze of the dark eyes glittering up at her. She bends down to taste herself on parted lips - the brunette still spread out on the desk like a prize - and gently flutters her fingers over lust-hooded lids in a silent request that the Mayor keep her eyes closed.
Regina complies readily. She can feel her wetness coating the insides of her thighs; the act of tasting the younger woman more arousing than she would have believed. Her skin still burns with the memory of the blade, but despite her vague discomfort at not being able to place where she suspects the blonde to be in the room, she is now certain she will come to no actual harm. Finally, after what seems like an age, soft lips brush against hers once again before the Sheriff murmurs in her ear.
"Perhaps you should cover yourself up..."
The Mayor's eyes shoot open and she sits up to find the blonde fully dressed and turning for the door.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"
"Going home. It stopped raining about an hour ago."
"But-"
"-Goodnight, Regina."
Emma smiles sweetly, giving a small wave of her hand as though bidding a dear friend farewell, and this in itself reeks of malice. The Mayor jumps angrily to her feet; left wanting with her mind reeling.
"Miss Swan! If you think-"
But the door swings shut as the blonde leaves in a flash of curls and coat. All too aware of her nude state, the Mayor stops herself as she makes to ensnare the contemptuous little bitch by any means necessary. Breathing heavily with her cheeks scarlet with rage, she clenches her fists and lets out a choked string of curse words. As she turns to slam her palm down onto the desk, she catches a gleam of silver peaking up at her from the shadows and moves hesitantly forward to pick up the Sheriff's gun. Twisting the cool barrel in her hands, her lips form a sinful smirk; her body glowing in the moonlight.
"I suppose you'll be wanting this back... Well, I'll be sure to stop by to return it to you, dear."