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Regina never imagined she would be nervous. She hasn't felt that way in years. Anxious, certainly: usually revolving around Henry, or the safety of her slowly expanding family. Nerves, on the other hand, require a lack of confidence that hasn't been a problem for her since she shoved her mother through a mirror.
So, yes, she's not entirely certain what to do with the butterflies wreaking havoc in her stomach right now. It's making her slightly nauseous, which is the last thing she wants to feel when she has Emma Swan in her bedroom.
Her girlfriend.
The term is juvenile, and makes her wince every time someone says it in reference to them. Henry is the one who has a girlfriend, depending on whether or not Grace is in a giving mood.
(And Henry is totally his other mother's child, because while Regina may have been in an awkward on-again-off-again relationship with a married man for almost five years, she'd never doubted Robin's feelings for her. Emma's the one who is willing to settle for whatever she can get, letting the other person set the tone- oh, who is she kidding. Henry is most definitely both of theirs.)
Still, the other terms seem equally wrong. Emma isn't her lover, because it isn't just about them making love, which they've never really done because Emma has never let Regina touch her before. Partner seems so horribly cliche for a lesbian couple. Significant Other is just ridiculous.
Emma is just hers. Her son's mother, her best friend, her confidant, her strength. There's no word that really encompasses that.
Well. There's one.
Emma lounges on the bed, idly jiggling one foot as she observes Regina with a quiet grin. "Hey," she calls softly, dragging the other woman's attention back to her. "You okay?"
Despite how nervous she feels - and irritation at how nervous she feels - Regina smiles, and it's mostly easy. "Yes," she says, finally removing the short jacket over her red dress. She walks to the closet, slipping it onto a hanger. "You?" She doesn't turn around.
"I'm good." The response is still soft, and Regina honestly thinks it comes from behind her. Somehow expecting Emma to move towards her once her back was turned. But when she looks, Emma hasn't moved, isn't even looking at her anymore. Instead, her eyes are closed as she lays fully on the bed, hands clasped over her stomach.
"Tired?" Regina asks with a small smile, more amused by the idea than anything else. "It's only just past nine, surely you're not that old."
Emma opens her mouth, then snaps it shut. "There's so many jokes I could make," she says mournfully, lips still twisting into a smirk. "Fairly certain they'd all end with my ass being tossed into the cold, though."
Regina scowls briefly, knowing immediately that they all would have been at her expense. "Indeed."
Emma opens one eye to look at her, promptly chuckling when she sees the expression on Regina's face. "C'mere," she says, reaching out with one hand, wiggling her fingers.
With a sigh, Regina crosses the room, finally coming to stand next to the bed. She barely hesitates to entwine her hand with the other woman. Her trust is rewarded by a sudden strong pull from the sheriff, resulting in an undignified yelp as Regina is pulled onto the bed and on top of Emma.
Any complaint Regina might have made is muffled by the lips that press into hers, and with a small huff she gives up in favor of exploring them. They've kissed before, even before they decided to embark on an actual relationship, but the kisses free of any encumbrance are still a novelty.
"You can touch me," Emma breathes, after a moment. "I promise I won't pull away."
Regina's heart stutters, because experience dictates that won't be the case. The one time she had tried, several years ago, to reciprocate one of their rare dalliances had resulted in apologetic stammers and a fast exit from the other woman. Regina had been devastated. If pressed, she couldn't have said if it was because she felt rejected or like a prize had been dangled in front of her nose, only to be taken away. When Emma showed up the next day with lunch and loudly started talking as if nothing had changed, she'd simply swallowed the emotion down and played along.
Emma doesn't stop kissing her, even though Regina knows her hesitance hasn't gone unnoticed. "Whatever you want," she says before kissing her way up Regina's jawline. "We have time."
And that is what sets Regina in motion. "Dammit," she curses softly, and she's moving suddenly, resettling herself so she's fully on top of Emma. She glares down at the blonde, who looks shocked at the exclamation. "We've already wasted so much time," she hisses, and Emma's eyes soften. It's the opposite reaction to what Regina usually gets to her anger, and it only proceeds to make her even madder. "Time isn't standing still anymore, and we're losing it."
Emma reaches up, rubs her thumb over Regina's cheekbone. "Any time I spend with you isn't a loss."
It makes her so furious, and it's tearing her apart, ripping at the seams. She's angry, seething, wants to shred Emma apart with her hands and bury herself inside, make her scream as she forces them into one being. It hurts that they've been apart this long, and Regina knows it's more complicated than them just deciding to date finally. It's affairs with a man and his wife, it's a six-year relationship with a pirate with genuine love, it's a shared son, it's a redemption that will never stop needing to be earned.
Regina pours that fury, the pain and frustration and nerves, into the kiss she gives Emma. It's teeth that are a little too sharp, a tongue too insistent, a pressure too strong. She can't stop, though, can't pull back, the red bleeding in around her eyes forcing her to take take take because she doesn't know how to give back to Emma.
Emma, who doesn't push her away, doesn't ask for air or for her to relax. Emma, who instead pulls, giving to Regina as she always has. Sucking on the tongue in her mouth, moaning into the bites that are tearing at the soft flesh of her lips. Her hands reach up, grabbing Regina, pausing just a moment to make sure that the other woman won't collapse on top of her before yanking her hands off the bedspread. Instead of flipping them, as Regina expects, Emma's forcing them under her shirt, pulling the silk from the trousers and placing Regina's hands firmly on her sides.
She doesn't stop there, guiding one hand up to her breast while the other she places over her crotch. Instinctively, Regina squeezes both, and the sound Emma makes is animalistic.
Afterwards, Regina couldn't have told you who it was who tore the buttons on the blouse, or fumbled the zipper on the trousers. All she knew was that there was bare skin within view, one hand possessively wrapped around Emma's ribs as the other moved under the lace panties just visible in the loosened pants. Emma leans up, using a hand to wrap around Regina's neck and pull her down into a kiss. "Touch me," Emma pants when they break, and there's a trace of copper on Regina's tongue because she can't stop sinking her teeth into the softness of Emma's lips.
Regina flexes her hand, feeling out the range of motion Emma's clothes are giving her. If she could separate for a moment, she could finish the job of undressing her, but the tips of her fingers are right above Emma's clit, and she want to touch more than anything. The hand on Emma's rib moves around, sliding between Emma and the bed as she leans into her, holds her. It changes the angle of Regina's wrist, makes it a little easier for her to push the final bit to where her finger can run through Emma's folds.
Emma whimpers, then, and the sound isn't exactly a new one. It reminds her of the noises Emma makes when Regina cooks her favorite food, or when Regina teases her about her many verbal mishaps. Or the noise she made when Regina first told her, "I love you."
She says it now, and Emma's whimper turns into a whine as she cants her hips, begging for more. At the same time, her hand is weaving into Regina's hair, pulling her into another kiss. Regina pushes further, reaching until her fingers reach the wetness, and there's so much that the thought drifts through her sex-hazed mind that it might actually cause a lack of friction. Emma doesn't seem to mind, though, because she's making these noises that have no actual sense but still manage to get across that Emma needs Regina.
So she complies, pushing two fingers inside of the other woman, curling them as best she can. The clothes are becoming a problem again, but she adjusts to the ache building in her wrist, setting a slow but steady pace as she pumps her fingers.
"Regina," Emma gasps, eyes closed as she arches her body, head falling back against the bed. Lips attach to her neck, teeth drawn to attack any bit of her presented to them. Each bite draws a quiver from her, a hitch in her breath as fingers steadily alternate between deep and shallow thrusts, and soon she's a quivering mess, hands grasping at Regina's clothes as if she could possibly bring the woman any closer.
Suddenly, Emma's reaching down, grabbing at Regina's wrist, gasping out, "Stop, please." She does, immediately, pulling her hand out of Emma's pants like she's been scalded, and would have moved away if Emma's other hand weren't so tightly wrapped in her dress that she can't.
"Don't take this the wrong way," Emma says after a moment. "But I am never going to get off if I don't get out of these clothes first."
The laugh that escapes from Regina then surprises her, chasing away the fears that had immediately cropped up. Even then, though, she feels a bit miffed, because she thought she'd been doing fine.
Emma releases the death grip she has on Regina, smoothing out the wrinkles. "Um," she says, and the embarrassment that Regina hears causes her to really look at the other woman. Emma's flushed, and her eyes are darting around as she avoids looking at Regina. But then she is, and Regina is surprised to see fear in Emma's eyes.
"It's okay," Regina says, the hand she'd just recently had buried inside of the other woman coming up to cup her face. "Whatever it is, it's okay."
Emma huffs. "I have a hard time getting off at all," she admits quietly. "I mean, it's kinda always been that way. With other people, I mean. I do just fine on my own, but when someone else is in the mix... it just doesn't happen often."
Regina feels a twinge in her chest, although she couldn't say why. "Okay..."
"It's just," and now Emma's frustrated, chewing on her lip for a moment before hissing at the pain it causes. "I don't want you to be upset, or whatever, if it doesn't happen." Her color is rising now, reaching her ears, and she looks away again. "I don't want to fake it."
"Oh," Regina breathes, and she thinks of Hook, of Neal, of the countless other lovers she knows Emma's had in her life. Strangely, there's a sense of trust to this information, and though she still feels a bit insecure, suddenly she feels honored too. She kisses Emma, the faint brushing of lips enough to bring the other woman's eyes back to hers. "Okay."
Emma blinks. "Okay?"
Regina smiles, letting all thing things she feels fill her eyes as she looks at the woman in her arms. "Don't fake it," she says. "Don't you dare." She kisses her again, taking more time in feeling their lips move against each other.
Slowly, she strips Emma, never straying from her lips for longer than necessary. She's careful with her, knows that she'd draw blood if she uses her teeth, and she doesn't need that anymore. When it's done, she takes a moment to observe her.
She's seen Emma naked before. They've never been self-conscious around each other, and the locker room at the local pool isn't known for having private changing areas. This is different, because Emma is still shaking slightly, and the look in her eyes is full of need. "You're beautiful," she says, and doesn't even try to hide the awe in her voice.
Emma rolls her eyes. "Says the woman who could wear a burlap sack and still look better than everyone else in town," she says. The humor eases her, her body relaxing slightly under the worshipful gaze.
"Opinions," Regina scoffs, reaching down to trace a faint stretch mark low on Emma's abdomen. There's a scar a few inches higher, a trophy from a villain three or four years back. She has more, and Regina runs her hands over all of them. She follows with her tongue, nipping at the occasional raised flesh.
It isn't long before Emma's quietly keening, and she's so responsive to every touch that Regina can't help but grin. "Tell me what you want," she says, hands stopping to rest on Emma's hips. "Tell me what I can do for you."
"Fuck, Regina," Emma growls. "Pretty much anything is gonna feel good right now, so long as you don't stop."
"Stop?" Regina mouths against her stomach, tongue dipping for a moment into Emma's bellybutton. "I have no plan on it. If I could, I'd never stop." She moves up, tracing a nipple in a slow circle. "But that doesn't answer my question, Ms. Swan. What do you want?" She smiles slowly, dark eyes gleaming as she gazes up at Emma's face. "How do you want me to touch you?"
Emma smiles back, and there's a look in her eye. Suddenly, her confidence is back, and she reaches for Regina, pulling her up into a firm kiss. She moves her head to the side, nuzzling into Regina's neck before placing her mouth on her ear. "I want you to fuck me from behind," she says, her voice low and raspy. "I want to feel your fingers inside me, feel you on top of me as you sink your teeth into my skin."
Regina growls, and then she's turning Emma over, hands stroking soft skin as she pulls Emma's leg up to get better access to where she's needed. Emma buries her face in the bedspread, one hand pulling her hair to the side while the other clenches into a loose fist. She's breathing heavily, chest heaving in anticipation.
Emma's still so wet, and her body easily accepts the two fingers Regina pushes inside. Unlike before, she doesn't react as obviously, but the deep groan the escapes her throat is unlike any other noise heard that night. It hits Regina right in her own groin, makes her blood sing and her head cloud.
She moves, leans her body against Emma and sinks her teeth into the meat of her shoulder, thrusting as deep as she can at the same time. The groan is louder this time, and Regina knows she will do whatever she has to in order to hear it again.
When she latches on to the back of Emma's neck, she feels the body beneath her surge, and Emma keens as she arches into the weight behind her.
Regina loses herself in Emma, in the sensation of the body bucking underneath as she bites again and again, never letting up on the motion of her fingers as she continues to sink into the ever tighter, ever wetter heat.
"Regina," Emma gasps, and she's twisting underneath, blindly reaching out to twine her fingers in dark hair.
Hands once again wrap around ribs, and Regina holds Emma tightly as she kisses her. She knows that this is Emma calling a stop, and while part of her wants to keep going until she knows Emma's come, she won't force it. She could never.
"I need to touch you," Emma whispers in between kisses. "Please, Regina." Her fingers are shaking as she reaches for the hidden zipper on the dress Regina's still wearing, pulling it down.
"Of course, dear," Regina replies. "Of course."
~*~*~
Emma's sitting on the counter, kicking her feet slightly as she puts the spoon of peanut butter in her mouth. She hums, a small noise of content.
Regina smirks as she moves around the kitchen. "What is it with you and peanut butter?" she asks as she turns the stove off, just as the kettle starts to whistle. She puts a pinch of tea leaves into a single-cup strainer, placing it into a mug before she pours hot water in.
"I dunno," Emma says, sticking the spoon back in the jar that's hers alone. Regina stashes it on the top shelf so that Henry doesn't get into it, because it's unhygienic for Emma to be doing what she's doing. "Just always been a thing. Especially after sex."
Regina hums. Even if this is the first time she's actually gotten to touch Emma, she still knows that Emma loves peanut butter after they'd done... whatever it was they had been doing before now.
"I hope you're not disappointed," Emma says, quietly. She's avoiding Regina's eyes again.
The sigh is heavy, but fond. Regina moves closer, nudging Emma's knees apart so she can stand between them. "Look at me," she snaps, and it startles the other woman into actually meeting her eyes. "I want you to know that I will never, ever be disappointed in this." She ducks her head as Emma starts to look away, maintaining eye contact. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
Emma nods. "Yeah," she says quietly.
"Good," Regina says with a sharp nod. "I know I did." She wraps her arms around Emma then, pulling her closer. "I haven't had many lovers where I cared about how they felt," she says, resting her forehead against Emma's clavicle. "But the few I have, I learned that it's not really about them coming, so much as making them feel good. So long as I always make you feel good, that's all that matters to me."
She feels the shakiness in Emma's next breath.
"I will always want to make you feel good," Regina continues. "So long as you let me do that, this will always be wonderful for me."
"Dammit," Emma whispers, and Regina pulls back in surprise to see that she's started to cry. "I don't fucking deserve you."
Regina hisses. "Don't you dare," she says heatedly. "I don't know about any of your previous lovers, but you absolutely deserve to have someone in your life who wants that for you." She kisses her then, just a brief brush of lips. "And I'm not letting it be anyone other than me anymore."
Emma's still crying, but she's kissing Regina again, pulling her close by the edges of her robe.
It takes Regina less than a second to realize she has no problem with making Emma feel good in her kitchen. Or anywhere else in the house.
(Well. Never Henry's room, but she doesn't think that'll ever come up.)