Once Upon A Time: Not Forgotten

"Now then," Regina said, as if she were wearing a smart business suit instead of, well... lipstick. "Where's your vibrator?"

"What makes you think I have a vibrator?"

Regina held her hand up, palm up as if indicating the striptease, the naked lesbian in Emma's bed, the fifteen minutes they'd spent on breastplay in the hall, and the conversation's recent turn toward bondage and assorted sluttiness.

"It's a back massager," Emma said grumpily. "I used it on my back once."

"Give it to me," Regina ordered, her authoritative voice giving Emma chills in a very specific portion of her anatomy.

Without a nanosecond of hesitation, Emma opened up her nightstand, took out the copy of Chicken Soup For The Estranged Daughter's Soul that Mary-Margaret had gotten her to 'make up' for missing her fourth birthday, and retrieved the pink vibrator from underneath. It was pretty discreet. A little bigger than a lipstick tube, black. Emma had to fantasize extra hard to get it... effective. Just the cute pizza guy wasn't enough, you had to go straight-up Hugh Jackman.

Regina held out her hand. Emma dropped the vibrator into it and, like a gambler playing a with a coin, Regina flipped it over her fingers. "Not much to work with."

"What, you want me to run down to the Wal-Mart for a Hello Kitty one?"

Regina glared at Emma. "Say it again," she ordered, her voice forceful. "Say it!"

Emma breathed in hard. How could Regina do that to her, just...strokeher with a few words? "I want you."

Regina patted the bed next to herself. "Then come get me."

Emma laid down beside Regina, on her back. She felt like a weight had been lifted and yet she couldn't breathe. She was in bed with Regina, nearly naked, the other woman completely nude. They had kissed, they have touched each other, they had done everything short of what Emma had to think of as sex. And they would keep going into that realm, either with Regina taking control as she had so adroitly proven capable of or with Emma losing control and throwing herself on Regina like a starving lion. The fact that it was going tohappenwas unutterably comforting.

And yet, even with the secrets and lies and Regina-ness of it all put out of her mind... It'd been ages since College Girl, hell, since a man, and Regina was so beautiful and so... the kind of woman who deserved and expected to be worshipped. The woman who needed everything to be perfect. And Emma wasn't perfect. She wanted to run to the bathroom and shave her legs, brush her teeth, maybe get her business vajazzled—something!

Regina, sweetly smiling yet somehow exuding an air of smugness, like she'dmeantto reduce Emma to a quivering virgin, danced her fingers over Emma's belly. Emma tried not to giggle as Regina probed a ticklish spot.

"You're nervous," Regina said.

"Just a little."

"I'm nervous. So why don't you be nervous for both of us and I'll be in control this time? Because I, for one," Regina's fingers walked up to Emma's bra, twanging the underwire mischievously, "know what I want."

"I know what I want," Emma breathed as the very tips of Regina's fingers ghosted over the lace of her bra.

"Yes. You want me." Regina's voice dropped like a stone, to land deep inside Emma. "You want me to fuck you."

"Yes."

"I'll give you what you want," Regina promised in her silky-smooth voice, the words seeming to run under Emma's coverings and over her skin. "And I'll take what I want."

"Take it." Emma's own words coming out halfway between pleading and growling. "Take me."

"Take you?"

Regina's fingers traced Emma's bra, tantalizingly crossing her breast before moving along the band, those devious fingers urging Emma to roll over, Emma helpless to disobey, turning her back on Regina so the witch could have unfettered access to the hook of her bra.

"You're already mine," Regina finished, opening Emma's bra to completely expose the satin flesh of her back, virgin territory demanding ownership. Regina ran her finger down Emma's spine, occasionally digging in with the nail, alternating between Emma's wincing and her moaning appreciation. Her finger ended at Emma's panties, slipping deliciously underneath to claw a sweetly rounded cheek.

Emma vibrated with a potent mix of pain and enjoyment, her only expression that of anxiousness.

"Mine," Regina said again, loud enough that it seemed the whole world might hear, though Emma knew her voice was barely above a conversational level.

"Yours," Emma replied, knowing without speaking what Regina wanted from her. She pulled her unhooked bra off her chest and held it off the side of the bed. Another wicked nick from Regina's fingernail and she let it drop.

"Now your panties. Give them to me."

It took a bit more athleticism than Emma would've credited herself for, but Emma managed to bring her legs up and skim her panties down them without ever putting herself out of Regina's immediate teach. The prick of Regina's fingernail was now her hand on Emma's ass, cupping the lovely curve, fingers sinking into the willing flesh as if staking her claim in bolder and bolder terms. By the time Emma passed her panties over her shoulder to Regina, it was starting to hurt. She loved it.

Not looking back, Emma felt the panties be pulled from her hand, and then heard an unmistakable intake of air. Regina was smelling her, the entire scenario suddenly bestial, predatory. God, and she thought Ruby had a wild side.

"You smell divine," Regina said, Emma's panties casually dropped from her fingers to the floor. "I bet you'll taste even better."

Emma nearly swallowed her tongue at the lovely threat. It'd been a long time since she'd had even a two-pump chump; the prospect of a proper 'meal' was like breaking a diet with a chocolate sundae.

The hand she'd passed her panties from still hung in the air, forgotten. Regina dropped the vibrator in it.

"Now," she said, "show me how you touch yourself."

"What?" Emma wasn't sure it was fair to ask her to speak when most of her blood had other places to be than her brain.

"Masturbation, Sheriff Swan? I trust you're familiar with it."

"Firsthand," Emma quipped, and felt Regina's hand tighten painfully on her ass, nails sinking in.Mine. "There's nothing special that I do, I just... you know... think of something sexy..."

"And am I not giving you ample material?" Regina whispered. Her lips were right in Emma's ear, close enough to bite it, and that was more 'ample material' than a fireman calendar.

"Your hand..." Emma whimpered.

"What about it?"

"If it were touching me... running over my body..."

And suddenly, Regina's hand was gone, not claiming her anymore. Emma nearly cried about before feeling it running over the back of her neck, the crook of a finger brushing her shoulder and arm.

"Would this suffice?" Regina purred, as if amused by the entire request.

"Yes... keep going..."

"Only if you start."

Regina's fingers now lazily, but pointedly, swishing over the same section of Emma's shoulder, Emma followed Regina's command. As per usual for her, it was unvoiced but undeniable. She twisted her vibrator's ring, turning its little motor on. The hum, low as it was, filled the room like white noise, lulling Emma further into this dream of Regina touching her, kissing her, treasuring her.

Regina's explorations now growing bolder, her fingers dragging over Emma's bare chest in pacing strides, Emma lowered the vibrator to her cleft. It seemed like a live wire in her hand, a dynamite with the fuse burning down. She could feel it without it even touching her. Then, without letting herself think twice, or even once, she brought it against her bare sex.

Her head pulled back. Her eyes shut tightly. Her body seemed to pull into itself to process the new feeling, expelling everything else in one hazy moan. Her family, her job, her life, it all dropped away, shouted out by the voice of desire.

"Good girl," Regina whispered in her ear, her body curving with Emma's like a shadow. "Slowly... slowly... be gentle... love yourself... yes... you have a magnificent body... you can't force it to feel pleasure... you have to ply it... relax it... give yourself permission to feel all the marvelous things that are happening to you..."

Her hand. It was running over Emma's breasts, making just the scantest contact with the stinging hardness of her nipples—even that brisk taunt sending a shock of relief to Emma's core, turning painful needing into perfect fulfillment. Emma kept touching herself. She went deeper.

"Keep going. That's it." Regina's voice raised, more strident, more forceful. Like this was of more importance, like Emma couldn't possibly disobey. "Deeper now. You're ready. It feels better, doesn't it, going further inside yourself. Touching places that you haven't in so long."

"Yes," Emma's voice called back, as if from a great distance. "It's good."

"I want to touch you there too. Can I, Emma? May I?"

"Yes... yes, you should."

The next thing Emma felt was Regina's finger, tapping at the soft vulnerability of her belly, the very bottom of it, just before the pleasurable hive of feelings between her legs.

"There are so many places to touch down here." Regina's voice seemed to slide right through Emma's ear, into her brain... down to her groin... her cunt. "Have you ever touched your clitoris?"

"No..."

"Why not?"

"Couldn't find it... too much work."

"May I look for it, Emma dear? I'd like to touch it."

"Yes—please."

"Good girl," Regina whispered, so low she almost couldn't be heard. "My girl."

Her finger circled Emma's sex, going lower, lower, seeming like it would join the vibrator inside Emma where all her pleasure was born, but not going there, going to the side, and back again, and over, and under, almost ticklish, Emma giggling through her ecstasy, the vibrator trilling away, Regina touching her, their bodies now thrust together as if by some irresistible force, the night wind and the crickets and the buzzing vibrator one great sound, surrounding them, keeping them safe inside their own little world where she was Regina's and Regina was hers and that was all there was.

And then Regina touched her clit.

Emma's mind went blank, her already trance-like state now invaded by Regina, the woman's touch and warmth and love filling her up as the vibrator sunk deep within her and Regina mercilessly strummed her clit, giving Emma no respite, just one pleasurable peak after another and no time to come down. And still her voice came into Emma's sanctum, filling it past the point of no return.

"Do you remember the week we first met? We got in some ridiculous argument and you decided to prove a point by chainsawing my prize apple tree?" Regina smiled as another wisp of her finger made Emma cry out. "I'll take that as a yes. I was so angry with you. It was all I could do not to curse you out in front of the whole town. But deep down, I wanted tofuckyou. Yes, there was nothing I desired more than to pin you against my tree and finger your little pussy until I'd knocked every apple off its branch. Is that ample material for you, Emma? Is that enough to get you off? Or maybe, since you'remine,I just have to tell you that I want you to fuckingcome."

And for once in her life, Emma Swan did just as Regina Mills said.

***

Emma caught her breath, finding herself still in bed, still in Regina's arms, stillpleasedin some indelible way. Regina had a case of the giggles, smiling to herself like the cat that'd gotten the canary, peppering small kisses onto Emma's brow until Emma tried to push her away and then wrestling with her, pinning her to the mattress and kissing her again. Properly this time. Fully.

"Oh... wow. Did I actually bring you to orgasm, Sheriff?" Regina asked, her voice higher than before, back in her usual register. She rested her forehead against Emma's, wanting to be able to kiss her at a moment's notice. "I almost feel like apologizing. I don't know what came over me. I've never been like that in bed—at least I don't think..."

"Don't apologize," Emma said weakly. "If you feel that bad about it, you can make it up to me by doing that just ten more times."

"Mmm. Ten times? Tomorrow morning, once before breakfast, once after, then maybe in the shower..." Emma felt her pulse starting to quicken. "Maybe we could go somewhere for lunch and... do something under the table, that's four, then maybe in the woods, out where anyone can see us."

"Because that worked out so well last time."

"Then, my place. My bed is very, very big. Lots of room to... spread out. So that's six. And I have a hot tub. Seven. Break for supper, where I'll fix you a home cooked meal. You can eat it off my naked body. Eight. Then, of course, once before bed and we'll call it a night."

"That's nine," Emma pointed out.

"One short. I guess we'll have to get it out of the way right now, otherwise we'll be stretching this all the way into the day after next and there goes the weekend."

"I've got nothing going on this weekend," Emma offered. "Maybe I could spend it over at your place. Getting those ten you owe me."

"But that means you'll go to sleep now." Regina pouted, mock-crestfallen. "I didn't even find out what flavor you are."

"Oh my god!"

Regina giggled some more and pulled Emma close. "Tomorrow. I can wait. But don't be surprised if you wake up to me humping your leg."

"You sound like my mailman."

Laughing and overcome with affection, Regina kissed Emma one last time and dropped her head to Emma's chest. She rejoiced in the physicality of Emma, how near she was, how open, how she was as easy to touch as her own skin. It was all she could do to keep her hand securely fastened to Emma's waist and not roaming her body for more erogenous zones.

"That was the best I can remember. I've never felt this way before." Giving into temptation, Regina petted Emma's skin, surprised and pleased that Emma let her. "Part of me is screaming at the rest of me to shut up and go to sleep, but this is very special to me. Sharing this with you. I feel like I should say something."

Emma turned a little, facing Regina and at the same time tangling their legs together. "You've done this before, though, right? I mean, that was... that wasnotamateur hour."

"Probably. I just can't remember." Regina tried hard to hold onto her smile. "I don't mind forgetting. Can't have been worth remembering if it was that memorable."

"So... I'm your first?"

"If you like, Sheriff Swan." Regina kissed Emma's nose. "Yes, I think you've definitely corrupted me."

"Mmm." Emma thought of herself, taking Regina's virginity for all intents and purposes, replacing what had come before. It wasn't such a bad thought.

She kissed Regina to put her at ease and winded her arms over the woman, like she could shield her through the night. And, feeling the steady cadence of Regina's breath against her collarbone, she went to sleep.

In an hour, she was wide awake. Screaming.

***

The dream was the same as always, just more intense, clearer. Like it was trying to get out of Emma, but having Regina around her was a cork, keeping it bottled up, trapped in Emma and trying to gnaw its way out.

She'd just gotten back from the Enchanted Forest, that wasteland that'd been left behind when Regina had taken her revenge, literal scorched earth. Her body still ached from a swordfight she'd been in. She needed a shower, a hot meal, a change of clothes, but all that could wait.

Regina had gotten her out, fairy dust and dark deals, looking at Emma and Mary-Margaret as she pulled them through the portal with some warped sense of ownership. Like doing this, taking this from Snow White, had somehow evened the books.

Books Emma knew could never be even.

There was a little celebration, like there always was when Mary-Margaret and David reunited, and Henry jumping all over Emma almost pulled her away from what she had to do. Because Regina was there, hanging at the outskirts like a besieging army looking for a hole in the defenses, coolly sizing up Storybrooke's defenders as Grumpy broke out a bottle of champagne.

Hours later, Henry had fallen asleep from all the excitement, having stayed up for days to get them back. Mary-Margaret and David took him home. Emma stayed. She waited while Regina's house emptied out, till it was just the two of them. She was in the parlor, alone but hearing Regina's motion through the rooms, the click of her heels like a riding crop being struck.

Finally, it came to the door. The knob turned. Regina stood there, poised as always, her hair fixed, her make-up perfect, while Emma still had dragon blood to wash off. They stared at each other, both of them so good at poker faces.

"I've wanted to talk to you," Regina said.

"Oh, you have no idea."

Regina entered the room, door shut behind her. She stalked around, making a show of cleaning up the remains of the party, after Emma's friends. "I didn't save you out of the goodness of my heart."

"That I believe."

"Henry needed a sign that I'd changed. And I've given him one. As well as you, I should think."

"Yeah, no." Emma shook her head. "No. Let's not even start on the 'I've changed, I want to be a good mom, I'm going to redeem myself'bullshit. Because I was in prison, Regina, I know that bullshit, okay? And I actually got my shit together without having someone to drag down with me, so this is me, right? Not in the mood."

Regina pursed her lips, still sizing Emma up. "You don't know me, Miss Swan."

"That's right. No one knows you. You keep everyone away so they don't realize what a crazy bitch you really are. Because if they knew, they'd have left me there just so you couldn'tuse meto get to Henry."

"You will watch your tone with me, Swan. If nothing else, I took care of your child while you didn'tfuckingwant him. You think you're mother of the year now because you changed your mind?

Regina moved in close, trying to intimidate Emma, and it almost would've worked—her, the voice of experience, rationality, success, power. But not this time.

"I talked to Cora."

Emma could see it, especially in the dream, see it like it was under a magnifying glass. Regina started to crack open. Her voice faltered, "Don't," trying to deliver some elaborate threat but all she could muster was that one word.

And Emma didn't listen. "She told me everything. And here I thought you were just some witch. But you were a girl once. Until you met my grandfather. And seduced him, and used him to get what you want, andmurdered him..."

Regina shook her head hard (did Emma see tears in her eyes then? She did in the dream). "Get out of my house."

"You tried to kill your own mother. And you did kill a man who loved you, some stable boy, because he might get in the way of your royal wedding—"

Regina's hand moved of its own accord. There was no telling how long it'd been balled into a fist, but it hit Emma fast, sending her sprawling over Regina's desk, pictures and documents flying down with her. Emma saw herself surrounded by photos of a child, her child, a baby and a toddler and a kid, all the little moments that'd been stolen by Regina. Along with her grandfather. Along with her parents.

It pushed her further.

"You're a whore," Emma spat, tasting blood. "And I will never let you near Henry, not for one moment, you psychotic—"

Regina lunged onto Emma, driving her face into the hard oak of her desk, the splatter tingeing them both with blood. "You have no idea! No idea what I went through! You think—" And that was all Regina got out before she just started screaming, the sound of an animal caught in a trap, and flung Emma to the ground. Emma hit hard, her elbow making a nasty sound against the tile, and instinctively scrambled away as Regina stalked after her, teeth grinding in her mouth.