A/N: This is another chapter told by Regina's POV. I hope you enjoy. Emma is next! :) Happy reading! And great news to those of you interested, this fanfic will be turned into a novel. I'm not sure yet as to when, but it will happen.
Chapter 23: Regina
I run my fingers through my hair, combing it over, looking myself over along the mirror of my vanity before I head downstairs. Emma is there by the time I enter the kitchen. Thankfully dressed in a pair of pajama pants and her usual black tank top. Her hair pulled up in a messy ponytail with a few strands of golden hair along her face. Looking as breathtaking as ever. God, it was becoming harder and harder to breathe around her. I actually needed to count the breaths I took.
"Well, look at us." Emma grins, no doubt taking in my nightly appearance. I decided on a pair of matching silk pajamas. Feeling the way I felt about Emma, I didn't need to feel too exposed. "Looks like we are having our very own little pajama party."
I chuckle and shake my head. Emma always knew what to say. "Only you can convince me to eat pancakes at this hour of the night, Ms. Swan." I speak the truth, deciding that if she wanted- Emma could convince me of anything and everything.
"Trust me, Gina, after you try my famous chocolate pancakes, you'll love me." As Emma flashes another reassuring smile at me before she busies herself collecting all of the ingredients she will need for our late night breakfast, I slightly frown as my heart sets into motion a rhythm it hasn't never beaten before.
One… Two… Three… With Emma oblivious to my little panic wanting to set inside my chest, I count to calm my nerves, my breathing, the rhythm of my heart. It wasn't so much Emma's words of 'you'll love me' that set my heart into an unexplained motion, but the sound of her saying 'Gina' just as well as how she uses my entire first name. The way Emma moves about the kitchen, knowing where everything is. Clearly observant. My eyes decide to wonder at how loosely her pajama bottoms seem to fit along her waist. How her tank top always seemed to fit so right yet so tightly around her upper body. The slight firm muscle texture of her arms as she moves.
Suddenly, my body starts reacting to these sights of Emma, making me feel something entirely different. Not only my heart was ready to jump out of my chest, but something was igniting at the pit of my stomach that threatened to travel down south to where I had never imagined nothing ever could. Emma was clearly attractive, that was a given. But what she was making me feel now frightened me because not only had I never not felt it before in my life. But, there was a small part of me that wanted to continue feeling it.
Everything Emma was beginning to make me feel after today was brand new. And it was catching me by surprise every step that these feelings took. Not to mention, I couldn't rid myself of the look in Emma's eyes as we sat by the piano earlier, back at the Orchard. Our close proximity. The way her hand wanted to come up and had almost reached out and touched me.
Don't go there again! I shake my head, my brain rattling inside my head. I needed to say something. "About you referring to me as 'Gina,' " I moved freely around the kitchen, tearing my eyes away from Emma's distracting choice in sleepwear and decided to lend a hand by reaching for a mixing bowl and the skillet.
"What, you don't like it?" Emma asks, taking the mixing bowl from me as she begins to mix the ingredients into them. Quite expertly.
I loved it. Like everything else about her. By God, as much as I tried to find something anything on Emma for me not to like- I failed. I move over to the fridge and reach for a few eggs to place alongside her.
"Thanks." Emma smiles. "We compliment each other well in the kitchen." She teases, and I wish she hadn't.
It was frustrating how easily Emma could make my cheeks flutter and turn beet red on me whenever she paid me one of her compliments or said easy-going teases like complimenting each other well in the kitchen. Especially when I thought so, too. I give off a little smile as I decide to concentrate on the ingredients she is currently mixing before us, rather than at Emma herself. Although, my eyes would have a mind of their own as they would glance her way every now and again without me being able to fight them back. Everything about me seemed to have a mind of its own around Emma.
"It's not that I don't like it," I rub at my temple as it begins to throb, but really I'm aiming for a distraction, yet failing at every turn.
Emma seems to catch my nervous state in that moment as her stirring stops and she's staring at me with concern, "If you don't like it, I won't-"
"No!" I sigh as I blurt out my response a little too desperately. I attempt to compose myself before trying again, more calmly this time, without my nerves betraying me. "I don't mind." I smile a little. "I just realized that I don't have anything to refer to you by."
God, you're a mess. Just stop talking! I blink a little, masquerading my nerves with my smile.
Emma's brow slightly rises in a small twitch that- for the love of God- could become my undoing. "Well," she loses herself in thought for a moment, and I realize she is actually trying to come up with a nickname for me to call her. I realize that's where we are in our friendship. So quickly. "Um," Emma chuckles and I am surprised to see her cheeks turn a shade of pink.
She's thought of something. "What is it?" I ask.
"Nothing, I was just…" Emma pauses, reaches for the bowl that sat between us for a moment and continues to stir. Her gaze is now avoiding me.
I realize that's blushing again and I smirk. "What?"
Emma shrugs, her stirring completely stops again as she sets the bowl back along the counter. "Well… Alright- do you want me to be honest?"
"I would appreciate that, yes." My eyes are on her, and I prepare myself for Emma's honesty.
She's facing me, slightly leaned along the counter. "I was just thinking, that… I actually like you calling me 'Ms. Swan,' " And as she says, 'Ms. Swan,' I realize she is leaning into me as she whispers it like a shared secret between us. Another one to add to our collection of shared secrets.
I stand there, immobilized as Emma heads back toward the pantry. Surely, I wasn't expecting that! I want to smile but fight against it, not knowing how to react to Emma's revolution. Or was it the way she had whispered it to me that made me want to grin like a fool? I wasn't quite sure. I look over my shoulder to Emma, and a small smirk appears at the corner of my lip, betraying me. She liked it? "Whatever happened to me calling you Emma?" I ask in a teasing manner.
Emma smiles in between her tossing some chocolate into the batter and continuing on her mixing. "Oh, I like how you say my name, too."
My smile grows as I take notice of the sudden dimples that form along Emma's cheeks. Had they always been there? If anything else comes up to make Emma more endearing to me, I would have to call it a night and leave her here with her unmade pancakes. Only, even I knew I was fooling myself.
"Alright, this is pretty much ready. Prepare to be amazed, yet again. I promise you, you're going to love 'em." Emma smiles again as she pours a bit of batter onto the skillet.
I stand to watch, deciding I don't want to call it a night, and smile. "You like making promises, don't you?"
"I can see you don't." Emma states the obvious. Although what wasn't obvious about me? I hated promises. No one ever kept them. "Why is that, by the way?" She asks me, keeping an eye on the bubbling batter along the skillet.
I frown as I shake my head, "I just don't think it's right to make promises one knows they can't keep."
"And what if they know they can keep them?" Emma asks, flipping over a pancake.
My eyes look down at the chocolate, perfectly shaped pancake. "In my experience, no one has ever kept a promise."
"No one?" As I look up, Emma's eyes are trained on me as if she is trying to search the reason behind my eyes, a frown along her lips. "Like ever?"
I chuckle not only at Emma's puzzled expression, but at her choice of words. I had to remind myself that she was younger than I was at times. "No, no one- like ever." I mock her words.
"Are you making fun of me?" I watch her brow rise, and I can't help a laugh from escaping me. "You are making fun of me!"
"No." My smile reaches my eyes as I shake my head. My heart beats faster and faster inside of my chest as I realize how easy it was to feel at ease with Emma. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to seem like I am. It's just… You are so full of life, Emma. You make it so difficult to forget that you are just twenty-four years old." My voice is soft.
Emma's head tilts, "Am I that young?"
I feel my cheeks turn pink on the spot, "Of course not, but I am forty." Suddenly, I've never hated my age more than I did at this moment. If only Emma and I had met under different circumstances. If only I wasn't married. If only I was a little younger than I was now and a little more experienced.
"And?" Emma shrugs in a careless manner that I must admit, surprises me. "Age is just a number. It doesn't mean we can't be friends."
Friends. It pained me every time Emma used that word. But, in the end that's what we were. Even if that's not what I wanted. Truth was, standing here with Emma, laughing and talking about things that didn't evolve around Leopold or Audrey made me want more of it. And my newfound attraction for Emma actually made me crave for more with her. I didn't want to just be friends, because I wanted to be more than. And I suddenly hated myself for thinking such a daring thought. Because why would Emma want such a thing with me when she was already dating my daughter?
God- did this make me a horrible mother? I was not this person. I couldn't be feeling what I felt for Emma while Audrey was away, or ever.
"Hey," Emma calls out to me in a low and soft voice that stirs deep within my insides. Even the sound of her voice tickles inside of my stomach, joining the butterflies that every now and again form every single time our eyes met. "You're forty- that's not a hundred." She chuckles.
No, it wasn't a hundred. But it was still a big wedge between us. "That makes me sixteen years older than you are." I murmur, unable to pry my eyes away from Emma's.
"And, to be perfectly honest with you, I like that about you." The corner of Emma's lip tilts into a gentle smirk.
"You do?" I am shocked. Again. She likes something about me? I was still trying to believe the fact that Emma loved something about me from earlier.
Emma nods, "Very much." Her voice comes out soft again.
I can't think. I can only look into Emma's eyes and feel lost in her words. In the realization that she doesn't mind being around me. She likes my company just as much as I like hers. That much was clear. And we were beginning to share something similar- whatever that might be- but, I wondered and wanted to dare to ask Emma if she felt it, too. However, I find myself blinking my eyes as the scent of something burning catches up with me. "Oh, my God!" I look down at the skillet which is covered in smoke as I realize the pancake was burning.
"Shit!" Emma's eyes turn wide as she quickly unsticks the messy pancake off the skillet, quickly tossing it in the trash. She fans the smoke that covers the kitchen while I quickly shut off the stove. It dawned on me how I wasn't even worried about the house possibly burning down. Instead I laughed as Emma smiled at me. "Well, that's one way to burn a pancake, I guess."
Another round of laughter escapes me and I place a hand over my mouth as I realize it was a little too loud. Not something I did often, if not at all. But I think even in that moment, Emma realized that she brought it out in me.
"Well, you were right about one thing," I smirk, eyeing the skillet. "I am amazed." I laugh again as I see a playful glare come from Emma. I am able to recognize the playfulness behind Emma now. "Why don't you sit, and I'll-"
"No, no," Emma interjects. "I can fix this, no problem."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Trust me." Emma moved me over to the breakfast table, pulling out a chair for me, refusing my help. "Here, why don't you sit down, and I will cook these up very quickly- it'll be like nothing ever happened."
I sit down, chuckling to myself, watching Emma as she quickly cleans up the mess and begins to cook up the rest of the batch to perfection. Whatever burnt scent lingered in the air was gone and replaced by a rich chocolate scent. My smile slowly turned into a frown soon enough as I realized that my attraction for Emma was only becoming stronger. I really liked her. And the more I allowed myself to recall upon that realization, the more ache I felt as another realization struck me.
Emma belonged to someone else. And just someone else. She belonged to Audrey.
"Well, you are just a master chef, aren't you?" I tease Emma, standing beside her as she is washing the dishes. I offered to help but she absolutely refused to put me to work. Although, I think she was still feeling a little bad for almost burning down the kitchen.
The pancakes were a delight. As much as I fought against it, my will had been broken and I helped myself to three of them before we decided to pack up the rest and store them away for another day, or another midnight snack.
Emma smiles proudly and as ever, I am unable to look away. "I have my mom to thank for that. And David- he taught me how to make these pancakes. Do you think we should save some for Sidney?"
I smile. "I think he would appreciate that." I think about David and how highly Emma speaks of him. I can tell she really loves him. "Do you have a picture of your mother and David?" I ask, filled with curiosity to put faces to the names of the people in Emma's life.
"Yeah," Emma quickly dries her hands, using her pajama bottoms, rubbing them against the fabric before reaching for her phone. She scrolls through her pictures until she stumbles upon one. "Here we go." She flashes her phone screen before me, showing off the latest picture of her mother and David together.
I smile at the sight of the picture. They were a lovely pair, and they seemed to compliment each other well. Their smiles match. They looked happy. I recall the pixie hair on Emma's mother from her black and white photograph in her photo album. She still wore it very much the same with the slight difference that there were a touch of gray areas here and there. Years were displayed around her eyes, but she was still very much preserved and young. David looked the same, with a touch of gray on the sides and along a five o'clock shadow along his jawline that suited him well. I wondered about their age but didn't dare to ask. I didn't need more of a reason to feel older around Emma.
"They look wonderful together." I speak softly as I continue to observe their matching smiles, the wrinkles around their eyes, and their day-to-day love or one another. This is what a couple in love should look like.
I couldn't help but envy them, but in a good way.
"Yeah," Emma turns her phone to her and smiles down at the picture. "This isn't David's best look, but," I chuckle at this. David certainly had a story behind his eyes, as well as Emma's mother, but they were kind. "My mom likes a little stubble on him, I suppose."
"He's handsome."
"Yeah, he's a real 'prince charming,' at least that's what my mother says." Emma chuckles, tucking her phone away.
"You don't think he is?" I chuckle along, knowing fully well that David was in fact a good man.
"Are you kidding? The guy is a love sick romantic. I remember when he first met my mother, she was so jumpy around him. She couldn't trust anyone, you know." My smile of excitement on hearing another one of Emma's tales slowly turns into a frown as I nod. Understanding this well, as I too had a hard time trusting just anyone. Except for Emma. "Well in order to convince her to go on a date with him, I remember he would always go into the same diner she did, for breakfast, every morning. And he would give her a flower each day."
"Each day?" My brows tilt upward as my smile reaches my eyes. I can't help but wonder what that would be like.
"Each day," Emma repeated. "Until she finally said yes, and was convinced he was nothing like my father."
"He sounds like a patient man." My voice comes out soft.
"Oh, he is." Emma breathes. "Can you believe he still writes her a love letter for every Valentine's Day?" I laugh at this and Emma nods. "I promise you. I can have my mom text me a picture of one of those letters. She's kept them all."
"Where did they go for their first date?" I ask, curious as ever. I hope Emma doesn't mind my question, but I just loved her telling me these stories of everything that involved her life.
"Uh…" Emma narrows her eyes in thought. "Dinner, and a Drive-In, I think. Yeah." She smiles.
It must be nice to have someone that would take you to dinner and a drive-in. I had never been to a drive-in but I read about them in books. I've seen dates in my head in thousands of my stories. I always ended up craving them, imagining that I could someday experience them with someone. Emma, perhaps- No! Stop it! Don't even go there. I blink.
"Hey," Emma's voice pulls me back and out of my intrusive thoughts. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
I put on my best smile in front of Emma because the last thing I needed or wanted was to seem pathetic. "I'm fine. It is late, and we should go to bed."
"Hey, Gina," I turn to the feel of Emma's hand grasping along my shoulder. Emma had such a gentle touch. "You can find happiness, too." Our eyes lock and I am frightened she will be able to see right through them and discover my most forbidden secret. "You'll see, the right man will come along. It's only a matter of time."
The right man. I almost want to scoff but I hold it in and decide for the first time in my life- not knowing what took over me in the moment- to become brave. "And what if I don't want a man?" I feel my heart threatening to jump out of my chest again, all the way down six feet underground and hide. "What if…" I swallow the ache down my throat. There was a way to tell Emma without actually telling her. After all, we were friends. And friends confine in one another. Emma already knew the dark part of my life. "What if I want someone else?"
"Someone else?" Emma's voice is soft and I can tell, just by looking in her eyes, that she immediately understands. "Like… A woman?" To hear her say that out loud was enough to jump start my heart as it threatened to jump out again.
Besides Leopold, Emma was the only other person who was now finding out about my true desires. Leaving out the little detail that she was the cause of those desires, of course. As much as I suspect Emma would judge me for it, the anticipation of her reply still frightened me. It frightened me so much that all I could do at the moment was nod in confirmation.
It still surprised me to see a small smile wanting to form along the corners of Emma's lips. "Well, no one said that was a bad thing." Her smile grows and my heart stops. It drops all the way down to the pit of my stomach as I can feel Emma's thumb softly stroke small circles along my shoulder. "Believe it or not, if that's what you want, I say go for it."
"And what if I can't?" I swallow down another hard lump. If only it were that easy to just- 'go for it,' as Emma so simply puts it. But, there was no way I could ever do that. It would be crazy. "What if it's impossible?"
"Nothing's impossible, Gina. You just have to be honest about what you want, and the rest will clear out on its own. Believe me, it can be scary, starting over with someone else when all you've known is a life of abuse. I mean, I get it- how can you possibly trust that that person won't do the exact same things to you, right?"
Emma was onto something there. Yes, I would fear that the most, the not knowing; that if I ever dared to love again, the person I was with would treat me differently. However that would never happen because as my added torture would have it- the one I wanted was standing right before me.
"I know you wouldn't," before I could even stop myself, I had already whispered out what my heart was feeling in that moment, my heart determined to give up my deepest and most sacred of secrets.
"What?" A frown settles along Emma's brow. Did I say that out loud?
Nerves settle in my stomach as I move myself away from our close proximity. "What I mean is- I- I know you wouldn't do such a thing- to my daughter." I blink, swallowing down the ball of nerves that rises to my throat.
"No, of course not." Lucky for me, Emma doesn't argue with me on the matter, and that's enough proof that I need that perhaps she didn't quite catch what I had stupidly voiced aloud a moment ago. However, I can't help but notice a slight sign of pain in her eyes. "I would never do that to anyone. Not just Audrey." She said.
Of course she wouldn't. Emma was too good. Too perfect. "I know you wouldn't." I smile, feeling my heart flutter inside of my chest. "Well… I suppose we should call it a night."
"Yeah," Emma looks down at her watch. "It's late." She motions toward the exit of the kitchen and I nod in gratitude as I walk out. Emma is following my close behind.
"Thank you for accompanying me today. That was sweet of you to do." I feel more at ease regarding my slip up from a few minutes ago as I walk up the stairs and down the hallway with Emma, side by side.
"You're welcome. It's a pleasure." Emma smiles, stopping just outside my bedroom door, because of course she would do something so simple as see me to the door. "So…" She breathes. I dare myself to look into her eyes for the last time tonight. And they are breathtaking. "Does this mean I can earn myself a spot on your phone now?"
I chuckle, deciding to put her out of her misery. "My phone's in my room, but I will add you as soon as I have access to it." I frown then as I think of- "However, I hope it's okay that I don't go by your name. You know with Leopold-"
"Regina-" Oh how I loved listening to my name come out of Emma's lips as a small smile tugged at the corners. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. After all, it's not like I don't know your situation."
Of course she would be so understanding about this. "Thank you." I whisper. "Good night." I start heading to my bedroom when-
"Hey, Regina?" Emma calls out causing me to whirl around by the door.
"Yeah?"
"Would you, um…" I feel her hesitation for a moment as she digits with the hem of her tank top a little. She looked nervous. "W- would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"
I am beyond surprised by the invitation, although knowing how sweet Emma could be after today, and ever since her arrival here, I wouldn't have expected anything less of her. I just never imagined she would be inviting me for a quiet dinner, just the two of us. I smile as Emma chews on her bottom lip. "Dinner sounds lovely. I could make reservations-"
Emma jumps right in, "No, uh… If you don't mind, I'd like to treat you to dinner."
Could she be more sweet? "You would?" I breathe out, trying my best not to smile so much. After all, it wasn't a date. It was just an invitation to dinner between friends, and I had to remind myself of that until tomorrow night was over and done with.
"If that's okay?" Said Emma.
"Of course, yeah." I can't help not to smile more this time. "I'd love to have dinner with you tomorrow night."
"Great." Emma's smile reaches her eyes, as my smile reaches mine. I breathe out a small laugh that I can't hold back as Emma waves as she walks backward along the hallway. The sight being the most adorable I had ever seen. "Good night, Gina." She breathes, sounding positively happy.
Although, no one could be happier about our dinner tomorrow night than I was feeling right now.
"Good night, Ms. Swan." I recall that Emma likes that nickname, so I use it. As I enter my bedroom, my back presses against the door, hearing it close behind me and I close my eyes as I take a moment to breathe. One… Two… I count to ten as a smile wants to erupt from my lips but I hold back. What the hell was that back there? I shake my head to rid myself of any forbidden thought that wants to cross my mind in the moment. Because this was dinner, yes, which I gratefully accepted. However, it wasn't a date. Emma was just being nice. A good friend as I continued to repeat to myself as I laid down to sleep for the night.
I laid in bed, reveling in the emptiness of it now that Leopold wasn't here and wouldn't be here until two weeks time, hoping to sleep. But that's not what happened. My mind would go back and back again to thinking about Emma, in her words, her mannerisms, her smiles and the green color of her eyes that as hard as I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So, I took to reading the book Belle allowed me to borrow, which I found myself highly enjoying. It was a love story between two strangers, from two different parts of the world who come together and fall in love.
I continued to read the book until my eyes felt heavy and I ended up falling asleep with the book beside me. And once I slept, I dared to dream. I dreamed I was in the shoes of this girl from Belle's story, Alessia, running away from a bad man, and two others that were on the lookout for her. And Emma, without fail, came into my dream, in the spot of the other protagonist Maxim.
In my dream, Emma was a photographer and music composer, also DJ who fell in love with me at first glance upon entering her apartment one morning to clean it. There I was standing in blue overalls and a bandanna over my head, going about my business cleaning, when I stumble upon a naked Emma after she had just had a one night stand with God knows who- not Audrey. Definitely not. This dream was all about Emma and I. She was naked and looking glorious as I could only imagine she looked like naked. Now, I had never seen anyone else naked apart from Leopold, except that time I saw Emma without a shirt and had a quick glance at her ab muscles. Which wasn't much to go by given that in reality I felt embarrassed when this happened. But in my dream, my imagination ran pretty wild. My dreams were the only thing Leopold could not control and I was glad for that. Because at least in my dreams. I belonged to Emma and Emma belonged to me.
Have you ever had a dream play out so realistically in your unconscious mind that you could swear to any higher power that it was real? But then you wake up and realize it wasn't and wished it was.
This was that dream.
What drew me to this story is Maxim was a lot like Emma. Well, of course, with the difference that he was a man, who had just inherited all of his family's money after his brother's demise, while I didn't have a clue as to what Emma's economical situation was. But I was sure she wasn't a laird. And I didn't mind. The thing that drew me to associate him with Emma was the color of their eyes, their professions and just the way he gave everything- risked it to keep Alessia safe.
In my dream, we had arrived in one of Emma's family homes that no one really visited. It all belonged to her now. I saw myself wearing an over sized t-shirt and some SpongeBob pajama bottoms. They were quite comfortable. While Emma, looking glorious and breathtaking as always, wore a pair of jeans and a white turtle neck sweater. Not her red leather jacket as she was accustomed to when I was awake. She had promised to take me shopping for better clothes later in the day.
For now we just sat around and played a game of chess, which I successfully won. Emma looked so defeated, it brought a smile to my face.
"Checkmate." I announced in my dream, chewing down on my lower lip, that such action caused Emma's eyes to turn a dark shade of green. But this time, it wasn't the kind to be feared. At least in my dream I wasn't afraid of it, just like I wasn't afraid of it in reality around her.
There was a lustful look in Emma's eyes that- in my dream- I welcomed freely. In fact, I could honestly say that in this world happening behind my closed eyelids, I welcomed it, too.
And I wasn't shy to look at her with the same amount of- if not more- lust in my eye. Yes, in my dream I wasn't shy to let Emma know just how much I wanted her. How much I wanted her to touch me and make me feel loved and wanted, desired even. How much I wanted to touch her.
After a 'Well played, Regina Mills,' from Emma, we engraved in a conversation about my background and family. Emma, curious as ever, just as she was in reality to know every last detail about me. Our conversation fell on a mutual agreement for me to try a pie that Emma had momentarily ordered to have delivered to us. It was her favorite. Banoffee pie.
We proceed into the kitchen, a slice of pie in front of me. Emma watches me, looking stunning as ever. The white color of her sweater brings out the green-sea color of her eyes a little more. It was impossible for me to look away, even in my dream.
I am reluctant to try a slice as I am full from our enormous lunch we had previously enjoyed before our dessert arrived. But, Emma, convincing as ever, picks up a fork, stabs a slice of pie and proceeds to have me try it. Only she didn't feed it to me, no. She sensually ate the slice herself, which followed a low and sensual hum in 'mmm' as her lips wrapped around the fork.
I knew what she was doing, of course. And I wasn't shy to let her know. "You are teasing me. You want me to want your dessert?" I ask with a raised brow.
"I want you to want a great many things. Right now it's dessert." A smirk plays along Emma's lips as her tongue wets her lips. She takes her fork and scoops up a cream covered piece and offers it for me to eat. "Eat," she whispers in an equally sensual voice. Her heated and mesmerizing eyes were hard to look away from.
In response, I accept the piece as I part my lips, and Emma feeds me the piece of pie.
And let me tell you, pie had never tasted more divine in my entire life. My eyes closed, savoring the delight that danced around in my mouth. And once they opened, I found Emma was staring at me with an I-Told-You-So grin. Emma offers me an even bigger piece this time. And this time, I open my mouth without an ounce of hesitation, but to my surprise, Emma pulls the fork back and pops the piece into her own mouth with a mischievous grin before I could even reach it. She chews and swallows it down. Clearly feeling playful.
Emma offers me another piece, which this time she allows me to eat and savor. Her index finger comes up to the corner of my mouth and wipes the bit of cream that sits there. "You missed this," she murmurs, holding up her cream smeared index finger. I could tell from her eyes that her humor was completely gone and she was lustful, surprisingly as I was. But of course, this was a dream.
Emma's darker, simmering look makes my pulse beat faster. Emma and I had had some wine during our lunch, and a little before so I suppose I could easily blame my boldness on that. Simply because in reality I knew I could never dare to be this bold toward Emma. But in this dream- I wanted her. That was my bold truth that I could never speak aloud. And to make matters even more, absolutely-fucking fantastic- Emma wanted me! So in that moment, as Emma seductively wiped the bit of cream from the corner of my lip, I dared to do the imaginable. I leaned right into Emma's index finger, my eyes glued to green ones before me, I licked the tip of her finger with my tongue.
Emma's eyes close close and I hear her release the sexiest hum I had ever heard escaping her throat as my lips wrap around her finger. As I feel braze by her appreciative hum, I lick again, and this time I use my teeth to gently bite down on the tip of that same finger, teasing it. Emma's eyes open in erotic shock and that's when I feel free to suck. Hard.
And what a divine taste it is.
I continue to suck on her finger, and Emma just watches me, and I can tell she is allowing all of her senses to take over with such sexual power that I could only begin to dream of. Hence dream. Emma chews on her bottom lip and licks it right after. I am surprised at myself in this dream, simply because who knew I had the ability to overpower her like this? To stir her so wildly that she can't take it anymore? It's a revelation. I scrape my teeth along the pad of Emma's finger and I hear the most pleasurable moan be released from within her throat.
"Fuck the pie," Emma hisses out in a whisper I can clearly hear as we are at close proximity. She then withdraws her finger from my mouth oh so slowly. Emma then grabs the back of my head, pulls me in until our lips crash together. She kisses me so hard. Passionately. Feverishly. Wantingly. Erotically. I can even feel how her tongue smoothly enters my mouth quite possessively, the exact same way her finger had previously entered it. Wet. Hot. Exploring and claiming me.
Of course, in reality this would have made me jerk back and look at Emma quizzically. Although, I am not quite sure anymore as the feelings I clearly felt for her were only becoming stronger and stronger with each passing day. And in my dream, I seemed to concur with myself as my hands hungrily and equally in possession tangled along her golden main of blonde hair. I brush back a fallen strand that gets in the way of the skin along her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. I feel other strands fall along the back of my hands as I do this, but I don't care. My lips continue to kiss and hungrily search Emma's lips, taking possession of them. Never wanting to stop kissing them.
Emma tastes of pie, and wine mixed together with her lust.
It is absolutely divine.
"Bed or chess?" Emma murmurs in between our shared heated kisses.
A thrill of lust pulses through my body like a lightning strike at the murmured words from Emma's lips. I feel it, deep within my core. "Bed." I whisper back along Emma's lips. My body feeling anxious and eager all at once.
"Good answer." Emma's hand comes up to caress my cheek, her thumb caressing along my bottom lip- my scar- as she smiles. Her green eyes sparkling with nothing but a sensual promise.
It was then I knew. I could trust her completely.
The way Emma was looking at me now, this is what I wished for. This is what I wanted more than anything in the world. I couldn't understand how I was so comfortable with Emma's touch, her kisses- in this dream- when I had a husband who made sure I would never feel the joys of what it was like to actually be loved and touched at all. But here- in this dream- I didn't have a husband. In my dream, I had been enslaved by bad men who's purpose was to use me for sex, when in came this gentle, sexy and beautiful woman- that was Emma- to save me. To have me all to herself. To make me all endlessly and hopelessly in love with her. For Emma to love back.
Emma breaks our kiss to grab me by the hand and is quick to hide me up the stairs, flickering on the lights to what would be our bedroom for a while- because in this dream- Emma wanted me with her at all times. She wanted to protect me. Keep me safe from anyone ever harming me ever again. Once the lights flickered, that's when Emma pulled me close to her, her hand cupping the back of my head as she pulled me into her until our lips crashed so hungrily into an eager and heated kiss. Emma kissed me hard and I had never felt more ready in my entire life. She pressed my body along the wall that followed the bedroom and I could feel my sex ache. Ready and waiting to be touched.
Emma's own sex pressed eagerly against my own and I groan, my fingers tangling along her golden strands of hair that in reality I wished I could touch. In this dream, I was no stranger to just how much Emma wanted me. Here. Now. In her bed. And I wanted to be there. More than anything.
Emma's lips burned mine as our kiss only became more intense by the minute and as our bodies crashed along the bed, I woke up in a jerk, gasping for a breath I so desperately needed. My lungs are begging for it as I sit. My hand lands against my heaving chest and as I look around the empty familiar bedroom, I realize that it was all just a dream. I realized that I was utterly alone.
I couldn't have felt more ridiculous if I tried. Emma, who was probably fast asleep by this point, was a few rooms down from mine, doing exactly that. Sleeping. While I was here, gasping for a breath, with beads of sweat running down my forehead and wishing I had a glass of water to wash over this heat between my legs that surprisingly found its way within. I was wet! Actually fucking wet between my thighs, something I had never experienced before until Emma Swan greeted me at my door. And I had no clue what to do about it.
I knew about masturbation, of course, but I had never performed it on myself before. I had never felt so eager and so confused as I did right now while Emma subconsciously- I knew- evaded every corner of my first erotic dream.
Still gasping for a breath, I shot up from my bed, throwing the covers to the side, not even caring where they landed as I rushed over to stand in front of the double window arch of my bedroom. I open them, lavishing the fresh brush of wind that quickly becomes known to me. I take three deep breaths and exhale slowly, fighting my way through yet another known panic attack.
Emma was forbidden to me. And I knew that. But what I didn't understand was why- oh why- did I want her all the more?