All day she's been teasing her. All day.
It's little things – light brushes past her chest, soft squeezes of her thigh, fingertips bumping against her ass seemingly by accident – and in the end they all culminate in the same thing: a throbbing between her thighs, relatively low-key but warm and wet and constant.
It's torture, Regina is sure of it.
It's also deserved. (Or so Emma thinks.)
Because not a week ago, she'd brought the sheriff to an earth-shattering climax in her parents' bed – something about a sense of danger and "You'll be done when they get home, I promise," purred with a waggle of perfectly sculpted brows. But she hadn't been, and they hadn't been; Regina likes to take her time with her gifts, and Snow had arrived back twenty minutes earlier than she said she would.
Snow White has always had poor timing, but walking in at the exact moment that Emma had come explosively, shouting and arching up off the mattress and into Regina's mouth – well.
There are some things a parent should never, ever have to witness. Ever.
Emma had been understandably embarrassed.
The day after, there had been irritable snapping from Emma and a soft pink blush whenever she made brief eye contact with her mother.
The days after that had been a complete U-turn, characterised by sly smirks and hot kisses (tongues, biting – the whole lot), hands touching and groping whenever possible but never giving way to anything more.
And it's especially bad today, because Regina had thought they were nearing the end of this dance when Emma suggested a lazy morning – lazy kissing in bed and warm, naked bodies tangling together, illuminated by the soft morning sunlight.
No such luck.
After having the nerve to toy idly with dusky nipples and even slip a hand between Regina's thighs to dip into quickly accumulating wetness, Emma had pronounced it breakfast time and risen with a barely-hidden smirk.
And that brings her to her current predicament – sitting in Granny's, her teenage son and both Charmings opposite her, uncomfortably wet and hypersensitive to even the lightest touch.
Fucking Emma Swan.
She'll admit that wearing her one pair of tight jeans today was not her best plan ever – the seam has proven to be problematic in that it rubs against her in just the right way when she moves wrong. She knows Emma likes them, though – has since the first time Regina wore them before they were doing this and had caught Emma not so subtly admiring her rear – and so she hopes it'll be enough to get what she wants so badly. No pain, no gain, and such.
It's the last straw when Emma – mid-conversation with her parents – runs her fingers over black denim and down between slightly parted thighs. She presses against the seam of Regina's tight jeans, and when the sheriff rubs slowly over her clit, up and down a couple of times, Regina only just stops herself from inhaling sharply.
She grips the seat with one hand as she drains the rest of her drink. As soon as there's a lull in conversation, Regina clears her throat and turns to Emma. "That reminds me, dear – there's something I wanted to show you." It's a complete lie, but a harmless one. "Walk with me?"
Emma stares at her for a minute, like she knows exactly what she's doing, but then with a sparkle in her eye and lips curling into a smirk, she nods. "Sure. See you later, guys," the sheriff says lightly, her tone turning innocent when she speaks to her family.
The hand that's been touching Regina through her jeans turns, palm upwards, and Emma wriggles her fingers, inviting the brunette to take her hand. Regina obliges, tangling their fingers together and then leading them out of the diner as fast as possible without actually running.
She doesn't stop until they're three blocks away, and then – in a moment of what must be insanity because she's a fucking queen and queens definitely don't fuck like peasants or teenagers – she pulls Emma into one of the cleaner alleyways.
Letting go of Emma's hand, she knots her hands in golden hair instead, pulling Emma into a crushing kiss, hard and open-mouthed and passionate.
Her back hits the wall as Emma kisses back forcefully, pleasantly warm hands cupping the sides of her face. Teeth nip at her lower lip lightly, and Regina makes a quiet, blissful sound in the back of her throat.
When they break apart, it's because oxygen is becoming an issue rather than because either of them want to.
"So that's what you're after," Emma muses playfully, hands lowering to skirt over Regina's hips. "In some dark alley? Really?" She smirks. "I would have thought that'd be beneath you, Your Majesty."
Regina rolls her eyes. "Be quiet, sheriff, and fuck me." She grasps the front of Emma's shirt and pulls her close once more.
"You think you deserve it after your stunt the other day?" Emma retorts. She's only playing, so there's no venom – just a quiet, infuriating sort of teasing that annoys simply because Regina is so hungry for her touch.
"I think that I gave you the best orgasm of your life the other day, and someone should have a little more respect," the brunette throws back with a quirk of an eyebrow.
"Modest as ever," Emma says with a raised brow of her own. (She doesn't do it quite as well as the former queen, but it works all the same.)
"And I think," Regina starts. "That you're dying to touch me anyway," she purrs, eying Emma in a sultry fashion well perfected during her time as queen. One hand absently trails down the column of her throat and over her own chest. "So if you really think I don't deserve it, why don't you show me what a bad girl I am, sheriff?"
It's bordering on bad porn lines, but it's not there just yet, and Emma swears Regina could say the most cringe-worthy lines ever and still sound fucking delicious.
And that snaps Emma's resolve.
She doesn't have the patience to play that particular game right now, but the fact that Regina offers herself up in such a way –
Emma's lips are on Regina's once more, attacking with the same fire as before, and her hands come up to cup small but perfect breasts through the fabric of her shirt.
Just the light, constant pressure and the slight friction as her chest rises and falls has Regina warming up like a virginal teenager, but she's too busy to feel embarrassed. She's too busy to feel much of anything right now besides the strong lust that's been building for the last few days.
She remembers the sight of Emma arcing away from the mattress of her parents' bed, keening and breathing hard, and the sight of toned muscles rippling. She remembers Emma's taste and the way she had clenched around Regina's pistoning fingers and then come magnificently.
"Emma," Regina breathes, groping the sheriff's behind and pulling her ever closer. "I need you."
Emma hums as she considers, her mouth only centimetres away from Regina's. One hand slides lower, down the curve of a breast and beyond to the button of Regina's jeans. "I never could resist you in these," she murmurs, pushing the button through the hole and then pulling on the zip. A hint of sheer lace becomes visible – one of Regina's skimpier pairs, and it makes Emma wonder if Regina planned this whole thing.
It doesn't matter now, though, because she'll bet that Regina is hot and ready for her, and a flash of arousal runs through Emma at the thought.
"I noticed," Regina says, but it doesn't come out quite as smug as she might have liked, because Emma pulls her hips away from the wall and starts sliding the denim over her ass and down her thighs.
And being this exposed here is definitely dangerous, but that only spurs her on further, and she supposes it truly is payback if they get caught. Her head drops back against the wall and parts her legs as far as the tight denim allows when they're dropped nearly to her knees.
This position is a little awkward, her back against the wall whilst her hips are pushed out, but then Emma is gripping the waistband of her underwear, pulling it away from her skin and then letting it snap back into place.
Regina makes this little quiet yelp in the back of her throat, surprised but not pained if the lustful way she's eying Emma in is anything to go by.
And yeah, fuck, this is definitely Emma's favourite pair of underwear; they're lace, black but nearly translucent – teasing with hints of olive skin and the curve of Regina's body, but still leaving some to the imagination. When Emma's hands roam further, she finds that she rather likes the cut as well – the way it leaves a generous part of Regina's godly ass bare.
Her hands glide over Regina's rear, squeezing lightly and pulling the brunette ever closer, and then one traces back to trail over her sex. The lace is damp and warm against Regina's skin, and Emma exhales slowly as her finger slides against the sodden lace covering Regina's entrance.
She thinks of the purchase she'd made the other day and how it's sitting in the bottom drawer on her side of the bed, waiting to be used. She thinks of how much she'd like to have Regina's strong thighs wrapped around her hips, and how the silicon would stretch her just the way she likes – just to the limit, but never over.
And then she can't think of anything but that – can't even focus on taking Regina in this alleyway – in public, slowly and torturous – like she had originally planned.
Running back up, she circles Regina's clit with two fingers in several tight circles, relishing the way the queen arches into her touch and how her lips part.
"Take us home," Emma orders, her voice a little uneven.
Regina cocks her head, goes to protest, but then thinks better of it.
All she wants is for Emma to give her her sweet release – she doesn't much carefor the logistics of it.
The brunette takes a moment to gather her scattered thoughts, and then she flicks a wrist. A cloud of cinnamon-scented violet smoke swallows them up, the tingle of magic dancing over their sensitive skin, and then they land in their bedroom. It's clumsy – their precarious position causing Emma to tumble onto Regina and then both of them onto the bed – but Emma quickly settles between Regina's legs.
Her lips are on the queen's neck once more, hot and fervent, and her hands pull carelessly at Regina's shirt until it's rucked up over her bra and they have to separate. Then the fabric's over her head and thrown across the room, and Emma is pushing at Regina's jeans again.
"I really do love these, but they've got to go," she murmurs.
Regina hums in agreement and gracelessly kicks her jeans off the rest of the way, silently thanking the gods that at least whilst her jeans are tight, they aren't Emma Swan tight. The lace panties follow suit, and she's left nearly entirely bare for the blonde.
Crawling back up that gorgeous, toned body, Emma ducks her head to lap at a lace-encased nipple. Her tongue is hot and languid, every stroke prompting a bolt of arousal to shoot through Regina. And then her mouth closes over the peak, warm and wet and then she very gently sucks, and oh, fuck, this was definitely worth waiting for.
"I love you," Regina breathes out shakily, her fingers knotted in blonde hair in order to hold her right where she is.
"I know," Emma says smugly, and Regina can almost feel that stupid smirk of hers as she pulls her mouth away. She reaches around to Regina's back, and undoes the clasp of the bra with a nonchalant flick. It's quickly shrugged off and thrown away with the rest of the clothes.
And then she's moving down again, pressing gentle kisses all over olive skin as she goes, until she resettles at the bottom of the bed, her head between Regina's parted thighs. Emma dips one finger experimentally into Regina's wetness, and then approvingly takes one long lick from her clit to her entrance, slow, so slow.
Regina pushes her head backwards into the pillows and gasps a shaky breath as Emma does the same three more times, up, down, and then back up again. Her hands are fisted in the sheets and her hips rock up into Emma's mouth. When Emma flicks her tongue quickly against her clit, all she can do is choke out, "Please," quiet and hitched. "Emma, fuck me."
The sheriff chuckles against her, and it sends delicious vibrations to her core.
And then she's pulling away and – no – this is not what Regina requested at all.
Emma rolls away from her to the other side of the bed and then crawls up to the chest of drawers. One arm hanging off the bed to reach down, she pulls out the bottom drawer and when she reaches into it, her fingertips graze smooth silicon.
She sits up again, toy in hand, and watches the way Regina's eyes darken and her throat bobs in anticipation. "If you tease me with that, I will set you alight," she murmurs, but there's no acid to it – just pure want.
Maybe this is what she requested after all.
Emma holds up the toy – a good, thick length of silicon, curved and deep purple with a black leather harness – and yes, this is definitely what she wants.
"No teasing," Emma promises. "Or – maybe just a tiny bit," she says with a devilish smirk. Then she's standing up and sliding the harness on, tightening straps and adjusting the position until it's just right.
Regina is a queen, dominant and unwavering and sarcastic in day-to-day life, but here, with Emma standing there with her hands on her hips and a well-endowed temporary cock, she's never been more aware of how submissive she likes to be in bed with the sheriff.
Before she can think too much on it, she's on her hands and knees, crawling across the bedspread and stopping just in front of Emma, the toy at eye-level. She looks up at Emma, a look of faux innocence on her face, and then takes the toy in her hands. Regina runs her hands up and down the length as if it were real, and then takes the tip in her mouth, her tongue swirling over the silicon.
It's been a while since she's done this, and she's a little rusty, but when she looks up at Emma again, the sheriff is slack-jawed, pupils dilated impossibly and her chest heaving. Her hand settles in Regina's hair, never pushing but there all the same. "Yes," she exhales as Regina takes more of the toy into her mouth.
There's no real physical pleasure to be gained from this for either of them, not with this toy, but it's a turn-on all the same.
Regina is licking slowly up the length of it when Emma pulls gently at her hair, a silent 'stop'. She obeys immediately, pulling away and looking up once more, concern in her eyes.
"On your back," the sheriff orders, and Regina knows she's done nothing wrong – just that this isn't enough for either of them, and there has to be more.
The former queen – queen! she thinks as she lays back with her legs spread for the daughter of fucking Snow White – obliges, and then Emma is above her, kneeling between parted thighs.
The saviour thinks back to a conversation months ago about the wonders of sex magic, pulls at threads of memories for the details of one particular spell, and then waves a hand over her endowment. Magic prickles over her skin, and when she takes the toy in her hand and pumps it once, she finds it's no longer just a lump of silicon.
Her breath hitches in her throat and her head tips back, eyes fluttering shut in bliss. Emma allows herself another stroke, and groans deep in her throat.
"Emma," Regina moans as she appreciatively takes in the show. When she realises quickly what Emma has done, heat floods between her thighs, and it takes all of her willpower to not reach down and touch herself. "I need you," she breathes instead, drawing Emma's attention back to her.
The sheriff comes back to herself, and when she opens her eyes, they're dark with arousal. Emma reaches down to run a finger lightly through the brunette's heat. She's still as slick as she had been before their short pause – more so, even – and, satisfied, Emma's strong hands latch around Regina's thighs. She raises Regina's hips gently until they meet her own, and then she runs the tip of the toy over Regina's slick sex.
The hard, thickness of the toy contrasts Emma's soft, agile fingers, and Regina whimpers quietly in the back of her throat at the new sensation. Her hips rock forward, searching for friction and closeness to Emma, but she gets nowhere thanks to Emma's steady grip.
Regina opens her mouth to curse at Emma, to growl something crude, but then Emma is positioning the toy at her entrance and pressing just the tip inside, slow and cautious and fuck –
The word slips from her lips, breathless and blissful, and Emma's hands move up to settle on her hips. Regina's legs hook around the sheriff's waist, and then the toy is pressing deeper into her heat, ever so slowly before pausing once more.
It's Emma giving Regina time to adjust to the size – it's considerably thicker than Emma's fingers and their other toys – but it's also Emma getting a hold over herself and pulling herself together.
Because holy fucking god Regina is so hot and wet and tight, and the roughness of her walls rubs her just the right way. Emma loves being inside Regina ordinarily, but this, this is new and heightened and it already has tension coiling in her abdomen the way it does just before she comes.
She's not going to come now, not after ten seconds inside Regina, not before she's even moved, not before she's made Regina come apart at the seams.
Her fingers grip at the other woman's hips until the strong sensations fade to a background buzz. Opening her eyes, she murmurs, "You okay?"
"Yes," Regina breathes. A moment later, when she's grown accustomed to the feeling of fullness, she mumbles, "Move," and Emma obliges.
Her hips roll slowly forward as she pushes in deeper, listening to the way Regina moans, and then she withdraws once more. The next thrust is a little faster, a little deeper, and then Regina is pushing back against her, and they're settling into a rhythm, moving together.
Regina's eyes flutter shut and she swallows before allowing her mouth to fall open in another pleasured groan. Emma's hips rock, and the toy pistons into her, unyielding and deep. The girth is almost too much, the stretch nearing painful but it's not quite, and the pressure against her walls has warmth pooling in Regina's belly already.
A week of sexual frustration has her nearing the edge already, goddamn, but she forces herself to hold back because she won't let this be over so soon.
"Yes," Regina gasps when Emma shifts the angle slightly so that every thrust hits that spot inside her. "Fuck me with your cock, Emma." Her hands fist tightly in the sheets as if her life depends on it, and her teeth sink into her bottom lip.
"Shit, Regina," Emma mumbles as the dirty talk goes straight to her core. Her hips speed up involuntarily, pushing in and out of wet warmth, and oh fuck she's so close but she's not going to come before Regina.
To be honest, Emma doesn't exactly know the details of how this magic cock thing works – she doesn't know whether she can have multiple orgasms or not, but she's not about to risk it.
She takes one hand away from Regina's hip and circles Regina's clit, revelling in the way the queen's hips buck desperately up and into her touch.
Every quick circle over the bundle of nerves has Regina ever closer to peaking, her pleasure mounting impossibly until she's crying out on every inward thrust of Emma's hips.
And the toy keeps rubbing blissfully against that rough patch on her front wall and then – oh fuck – "Emma, I'm going to–"
Regina's hands scrabble for something to grab onto, finally settling on the headboard behind her, and then she's coming. Her body tenses and stills except for her hips which move almost violently against Emma, riding out her high.
It's fireworks exploding behind her eyes and it's her back arching painfully off the bed and it's everything she's been so hungry for over the last week and it's fucking perfect.
Regina clenches tightly around the toy and around Emma and fucking shit –
Emma is right behind Regina, flying over the edge of pleasure into oblivion and all there is is Regina – Regina's moans and Regina's beauty and Regina, warm and hot around her temporary cock jesus fuck.
A moment later, they collapse against one another, sweaty and well-sated and giddy with their post-orgasmic haze. Emma pulls out and wriggles lazily out of the harness before rolling onto her back and settling beside Regina.
Laughing breathlessly, Regina pulls Emma against her and presses her lips earnestly against Emma's. "I love you," she breathes when they separate, and this time, there's no smug, playful response.
"I love you too," is what she gets back, and when she meets the sheriff's eyes, they're glittering with mirth and love.
Regina's never been so glad to be denied sex for a week.
When their son comes home an hour later, he stands outside their door and yells through the wood, "I'm home!" and then, "I'm going to grandma and grandpa's for the night – please don't do any gross adult stuff in the next half hour."
And they know they've been busted, and all Regina can do is push her face into the crook of Emma's neck to hide her blush.
Still. It's not as bad as getting caught mid-orgasm by Snow White.