Black Lace: Red Cotton
Red Cotton
Pairing: Swan Queen (for real this time!)
Rating: M
Summary: After such a lovely display the evening before, Emma finds it increasingly impossible to focus on her work. Or anything at all. And it's all Regina's fault.
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Still wish I did. Siiigh.
--------------
For the umpteenth time that day, Emma Swan found herself unbearably turned on.
So far this morning, she'd already taken a cold shower (before work, when she'd woken up horny), jogged to get her morning coffee (in Maine, in fucking March, which if that wasn't cold enough to clear her head, nothing would be), and promptly downed said coffee when she'd arrived at work and found herself still horny.
At first, she'd thought it had only been the damn walkie talkie. After she'd visited the kid at the playground that morning before school, she'd thrown the thing in a drawer and refused to think about it any longer. Even just seeing it caused unfairly vivid memories of the mayor. (And her hands and her lips and breasts and-) But as the morning wore on, she found that her body took just about any excuse to remind her of (dark hair flying backwards as Regina's head was thrown back, honey brown eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy) what she'd seen. What the Mayor had known damn well she'd seen. Hell, Emma was positive now that Regina had known she'd had an audience the entire time.
Which, of course, meant that the entire damn thing had been strictly for her benefit. Every inch of exposed skin, every shudder, every moan... all for her. And she had no idea why Regina had done it. Except to drive her crazy. Even now, all Emma could think about was to wish she'd been in the room to actually hear those moans. Or better yet, have ripped away Regina's hand and replaced it with her own and taken wicked delight in causing each and every one of them herself. Drive the mayor to untold heights of pleasure until the building towards release finally caused fevered gasps to take the shape of her name. God, she'd have loved that.
And goddammit, she was thinking about it again. And getting turned on. Again.
With a frustrated growl, Emma threw the file of paperwork she was making absolutely no headway on back onto her desk, and flopped onto the blue couch next to the empty jail cell.
"Goddamn Regina!" she spat with as much venom as she could muster, and promptly thanked the same god that she was alone in the office. She was too damned tightly wound to work. She needed to do something with all this tension or she truly felt she'd implode. And she'd tried everything she could think of. Except actually shoving her hand down her pants and dealing with it directly. And that really wasn't appropriate for work, at all. Or an effective use of payroll.
"...To hell with appropriate," Emma muttered, popping the button of her pants and settling down more comfortably on the couch. She couldn't really be an effective Sheriff while she was this uncomfortably turned on, anyway. And as she shoved her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and discovered just how thoroughly wet she'd made the red cotton of her panties, she rationalized it wouldn't take long, anyway.
She shifted her thighs, allowing her knees to part enough to allow her fingers the easiest access to the heat and wetness that lay aching between them. Fingers trailed touches across the outer lips of her labia, and even the barest of contact forced her to bite her lip to keep from moaning. She was so very, very wet. Her morning of doing little but remembering Regina's naked body writhing on her bed in orgasmic delight had done nothing but get her far, far too excited.
Emma finally slipped two tapered fingers inside her, and the moan that slipped out of parted lips couldn't have been contained. The memories continued to play in her mind, her breath growing more ragged every time Regina moaned in her mind, every pulse and twist of questing fingers- her own, and the Mayor's. She rubbed faster, wanting, needing--
"Regina... "
She was too far gone to be ashamed of the name spilling out in a half-choked groan of need. Her eyes closed, the better to just give in and allow her memories to wreak havoc over her. She'd already given in this far. Now, the only way she could have any hope of continuing with her day was to literally fuck Regina out of her system. Her release was coming faster and faster, and as she bit her lip again, she slipped a thrid finger inside herself, the heel of her hand digging into her swollen clitoris with each fevered pulse of her fingers.
All too quickly, she felt herself peak, felt the ungodly pressure build to breaking point, and her fingers pulsed just a little faster until she gasped and groaned, finally succuming and tipping over the edge into release. And it was with no small amount of annoyance that Regina's name again left her lips as she did so.
Gasping, her fingers slowed and then stilled as her orgasm abated, and the couch ceased trembling beneath her as her body shook. "Thank god," she whispered to no one, closing her eyes and sinking into the couch, her body still humming in pleasure and breathing still labored.
Taking several deep breaths, she knew she'd probably remain there for a good few more minutes, enjoying the afterglow and a relieved chuckle and letting her body cool down in its own good ti--
...Wait. That chuckle hadn't been hers.
"Enjoy yourself, Miss Swan?"
Startled, she gave a faint shriek and jerked her hand out of her jeans, frantically trying to re-button them before a dawning realization hit. She knew all too well whose voice that was. Emma felt herself shudder again, felt the flush drain away from her face, and she gave a dry swallow before slowly turning her head around.
One hand holding a jacket partially draped over her shoulder, Regina smirked back at her, looking for all the world like the cat who had the canary. "I know I did," she purred in a voice dripping with innuendo and honey.
Emma repressed another shiver, and would have stood had her pants not still been unbuttoned. A fact which she really saw no point in trying to hide now. "How long have you-" she trailed off, not really needing an answer. Especially when Regina smirked like that.
"Long enough. And really, Miss Swan," she tsked, "your showmanship needs a little work. I let you see far more of me." The smirk only widened as she stepped closer, making no attempt to hide the fact that her eyes were hungrily roaming over Emma's body, lingering over her unzipped pants.
She flushed again, and glared before refastening her jeans and standing up. "You weren't supposed to see anything! Goddamn you, Regina!" Vaguely, Emma was aware she really had no room to stand on this particular subject, but she couldn't help lash out anyway. Regina just brought that out in her.
The mayor only laughed, and called her out on it. "A bit of a double standard, isn't it, dear? After the show I put on for you last night."
Emma felt the flush rising back to her cheeks, though this one certainly wasn't from near-orgasm. "That wasn't... I didn't... you weren't supposed to know I was there!" Even before the weak protest had left her lips Emma regretted it, and wished she could grab the words and shove them back in her lips.
Regina seemed to have other plans, and stepped forward, invading her personal space in a move that was so unbearably Regina that Emma had to bite back a growl. She was close enough to taste, and Emma tried to focus on her outrage instead of the fact that those lips were now directly in front of her.
"Is that supposed to make it better?" Her amusement was practically palpable. "You were the one sneaking around my house and peeking through my windows in the first place, Miss Swan. I don't recall forcing you to watch me."
Emma was finding it a little hard to concentrate with Regina so close to her. She kept trying not to stare at the way the top button of her shirt was undone, revealing just a flash of creamy skin and... yes, still black lace. Huh. You'd think a woman like Regina would enjoy a little variety.
Blinking, she forced her thoughts away and her eyes back up, and realized belatedly that it was her turn to say something. "...How was I supposed to know the Mayor gets her kicks by masturbating in front of her window?" There. That wasn't too bad of a comeback, really.
Regina scoffed and looked like she was trying to avoid rolling her eyes. "Oh, yes, of course. Because the middle of the police station is so much better." Regina just laughed, and the air of her breath passed over Emma's face. Mmm... apples.
Emma didn't have a response. Her eyes just left the mayor's, trying to think. This had all been Regina's fault, really. But she couldn't exactly tell her that the mayor had been that all she'd thought about while getting herself off. She also didn't know when Regina had stepped to the side but the warm breath next to her ear made the fact obvious.
"Just admit it, dear: You enjoyed watching me."
She had, but again, it would never be something she would admit. But the mayor was rather known for being relentless. Her eyes closed, and she just barely repressed another shiver. She should really tell the mayor to get out of her personal space, or hell, out of her office. But then there were fingers lightly resting on her shoulder, and that thought suddenly seemed less important.
"You loved it, Miss Swan. Watching my fingers slide in and out of myself. You couldn't look away from how my toes curled, how I clenched the sheet with my hand and my chest heaved with every labored breath. You wanted nothing more than to tear my hand away and replace it with your own and drive me to fevered, wordless heights of pleasure. You wanted to taste your name as it fell from my lips with every gasp. You wanted-" and her lips were brushing against her ear, each word a sexy, breathy whisper. " -and you still want... to fuck me. Don't you, Miss Swan?"
Emma took a deep breath during the little diatribe, and when she exhaled, something inside her snapped. Her eyes flashed open, and she whirled Regina off balance, twisting and locking her hands around the older woman's wrists in a sudden burst of furious power. "My name," she hissed, taking advantage of Regina's momentary surprise to shove the Mayor's arms behind her back, "is Emma."
Brown eyes burned into her own, dark with fury. "What the hell are you-"
"Say it!" She spat, stepping forward, wrenching Regina's arms further back and not caring when the other woman gave a low hiss of unexpected pain when they crashed into the bars of the empty cell behind her.
"Emma." Coming from the mayor's lips, her name seemed like a curse, but to the sheriff it had never sounded better. "Satisfied now?" Regina had the audacity to smirk. As if she wasn't the one currently trapped against the jail cell.
"Oh no, you don't get out of this so easy." Emma smirked right back, not about to lose any of the ground she'd won.
"No?" Regina seemed to mock her, arching her back as far as she could so that her face was only inches away, close enough to green eyes that she could see her reflection in them. "And what, exactly, is 'this', dear?"
Her lips that close, she was practically daring Emma to wipe that smirk of her face and kiss her. Violently. Ferociously.
So she did.
Pairing: Swan Queen (for real this time!)
Rating: M
Summary: After such a lovely display the evening before, Emma finds it increasingly impossible to focus on her work. Or anything at all. And it's all Regina's fault.
Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em. Still wish I did. Siiigh.
--------------
For the umpteenth time that day, Emma Swan found herself unbearably turned on.
So far this morning, she'd already taken a cold shower (before work, when she'd woken up horny), jogged to get her morning coffee (in Maine, in fucking March, which if that wasn't cold enough to clear her head, nothing would be), and promptly downed said coffee when she'd arrived at work and found herself still horny.
At first, she'd thought it had only been the damn walkie talkie. After she'd visited the kid at the playground that morning before school, she'd thrown the thing in a drawer and refused to think about it any longer. Even just seeing it caused unfairly vivid memories of the mayor. (And her hands and her lips and breasts and-) But as the morning wore on, she found that her body took just about any excuse to remind her of (dark hair flying backwards as Regina's head was thrown back, honey brown eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy) what she'd seen. What the Mayor had known damn well she'd seen. Hell, Emma was positive now that Regina had known she'd had an audience the entire time.
Which, of course, meant that the entire damn thing had been strictly for her benefit. Every inch of exposed skin, every shudder, every moan... all for her. And she had no idea why Regina had done it. Except to drive her crazy. Even now, all Emma could think about was to wish she'd been in the room to actually hear those moans. Or better yet, have ripped away Regina's hand and replaced it with her own and taken wicked delight in causing each and every one of them herself. Drive the mayor to untold heights of pleasure until the building towards release finally caused fevered gasps to take the shape of her name. God, she'd have loved that.
And goddammit, she was thinking about it again. And getting turned on. Again.
With a frustrated growl, Emma threw the file of paperwork she was making absolutely no headway on back onto her desk, and flopped onto the blue couch next to the empty jail cell.
"Goddamn Regina!" she spat with as much venom as she could muster, and promptly thanked the same god that she was alone in the office. She was too damned tightly wound to work. She needed to do something with all this tension or she truly felt she'd implode. And she'd tried everything she could think of. Except actually shoving her hand down her pants and dealing with it directly. And that really wasn't appropriate for work, at all. Or an effective use of payroll.
"...To hell with appropriate," Emma muttered, popping the button of her pants and settling down more comfortably on the couch. She couldn't really be an effective Sheriff while she was this uncomfortably turned on, anyway. And as she shoved her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear and discovered just how thoroughly wet she'd made the red cotton of her panties, she rationalized it wouldn't take long, anyway.
She shifted her thighs, allowing her knees to part enough to allow her fingers the easiest access to the heat and wetness that lay aching between them. Fingers trailed touches across the outer lips of her labia, and even the barest of contact forced her to bite her lip to keep from moaning. She was so very, very wet. Her morning of doing little but remembering Regina's naked body writhing on her bed in orgasmic delight had done nothing but get her far, far too excited.
Emma finally slipped two tapered fingers inside her, and the moan that slipped out of parted lips couldn't have been contained. The memories continued to play in her mind, her breath growing more ragged every time Regina moaned in her mind, every pulse and twist of questing fingers- her own, and the Mayor's. She rubbed faster, wanting, needing--
"Regina... "
She was too far gone to be ashamed of the name spilling out in a half-choked groan of need. Her eyes closed, the better to just give in and allow her memories to wreak havoc over her. She'd already given in this far. Now, the only way she could have any hope of continuing with her day was to literally fuck Regina out of her system. Her release was coming faster and faster, and as she bit her lip again, she slipped a thrid finger inside herself, the heel of her hand digging into her swollen clitoris with each fevered pulse of her fingers.
All too quickly, she felt herself peak, felt the ungodly pressure build to breaking point, and her fingers pulsed just a little faster until she gasped and groaned, finally succuming and tipping over the edge into release. And it was with no small amount of annoyance that Regina's name again left her lips as she did so.
Gasping, her fingers slowed and then stilled as her orgasm abated, and the couch ceased trembling beneath her as her body shook. "Thank god," she whispered to no one, closing her eyes and sinking into the couch, her body still humming in pleasure and breathing still labored.
Taking several deep breaths, she knew she'd probably remain there for a good few more minutes, enjoying the afterglow and a relieved chuckle and letting her body cool down in its own good ti--
...Wait. That chuckle hadn't been hers.
"Enjoy yourself, Miss Swan?"
Startled, she gave a faint shriek and jerked her hand out of her jeans, frantically trying to re-button them before a dawning realization hit. She knew all too well whose voice that was. Emma felt herself shudder again, felt the flush drain away from her face, and she gave a dry swallow before slowly turning her head around.
One hand holding a jacket partially draped over her shoulder, Regina smirked back at her, looking for all the world like the cat who had the canary. "I know I did," she purred in a voice dripping with innuendo and honey.
Emma repressed another shiver, and would have stood had her pants not still been unbuttoned. A fact which she really saw no point in trying to hide now. "How long have you-" she trailed off, not really needing an answer. Especially when Regina smirked like that.
"Long enough. And really, Miss Swan," she tsked, "your showmanship needs a little work. I let you see far more of me." The smirk only widened as she stepped closer, making no attempt to hide the fact that her eyes were hungrily roaming over Emma's body, lingering over her unzipped pants.
She flushed again, and glared before refastening her jeans and standing up. "You weren't supposed to see anything! Goddamn you, Regina!" Vaguely, Emma was aware she really had no room to stand on this particular subject, but she couldn't help lash out anyway. Regina just brought that out in her.
The mayor only laughed, and called her out on it. "A bit of a double standard, isn't it, dear? After the show I put on for you last night."
Emma felt the flush rising back to her cheeks, though this one certainly wasn't from near-orgasm. "That wasn't... I didn't... you weren't supposed to know I was there!" Even before the weak protest had left her lips Emma regretted it, and wished she could grab the words and shove them back in her lips.
Regina seemed to have other plans, and stepped forward, invading her personal space in a move that was so unbearably Regina that Emma had to bite back a growl. She was close enough to taste, and Emma tried to focus on her outrage instead of the fact that those lips were now directly in front of her.
"Is that supposed to make it better?" Her amusement was practically palpable. "You were the one sneaking around my house and peeking through my windows in the first place, Miss Swan. I don't recall forcing you to watch me."
Emma was finding it a little hard to concentrate with Regina so close to her. She kept trying not to stare at the way the top button of her shirt was undone, revealing just a flash of creamy skin and... yes, still black lace. Huh. You'd think a woman like Regina would enjoy a little variety.
Blinking, she forced her thoughts away and her eyes back up, and realized belatedly that it was her turn to say something. "...How was I supposed to know the Mayor gets her kicks by masturbating in front of her window?" There. That wasn't too bad of a comeback, really.
Regina scoffed and looked like she was trying to avoid rolling her eyes. "Oh, yes, of course. Because the middle of the police station is so much better." Regina just laughed, and the air of her breath passed over Emma's face. Mmm... apples.
Emma didn't have a response. Her eyes just left the mayor's, trying to think. This had all been Regina's fault, really. But she couldn't exactly tell her that the mayor had been that all she'd thought about while getting herself off. She also didn't know when Regina had stepped to the side but the warm breath next to her ear made the fact obvious.
"Just admit it, dear: You enjoyed watching me."
She had, but again, it would never be something she would admit. But the mayor was rather known for being relentless. Her eyes closed, and she just barely repressed another shiver. She should really tell the mayor to get out of her personal space, or hell, out of her office. But then there were fingers lightly resting on her shoulder, and that thought suddenly seemed less important.
"You loved it, Miss Swan. Watching my fingers slide in and out of myself. You couldn't look away from how my toes curled, how I clenched the sheet with my hand and my chest heaved with every labored breath. You wanted nothing more than to tear my hand away and replace it with your own and drive me to fevered, wordless heights of pleasure. You wanted to taste your name as it fell from my lips with every gasp. You wanted-" and her lips were brushing against her ear, each word a sexy, breathy whisper. " -and you still want... to fuck me. Don't you, Miss Swan?"
Emma took a deep breath during the little diatribe, and when she exhaled, something inside her snapped. Her eyes flashed open, and she whirled Regina off balance, twisting and locking her hands around the older woman's wrists in a sudden burst of furious power. "My name," she hissed, taking advantage of Regina's momentary surprise to shove the Mayor's arms behind her back, "is Emma."
Brown eyes burned into her own, dark with fury. "What the hell are you-"
"Say it!" She spat, stepping forward, wrenching Regina's arms further back and not caring when the other woman gave a low hiss of unexpected pain when they crashed into the bars of the empty cell behind her.
"Emma." Coming from the mayor's lips, her name seemed like a curse, but to the sheriff it had never sounded better. "Satisfied now?" Regina had the audacity to smirk. As if she wasn't the one currently trapped against the jail cell.
"Oh no, you don't get out of this so easy." Emma smirked right back, not about to lose any of the ground she'd won.
"No?" Regina seemed to mock her, arching her back as far as she could so that her face was only inches away, close enough to green eyes that she could see her reflection in them. "And what, exactly, is 'this', dear?"
Her lips that close, she was practically daring Emma to wipe that smirk of her face and kiss her. Violently. Ferociously.
So she did.