Regina feels drunk, and she's not entirely sure her legs will hold her when she stands, but they do.

"Get up," she urges, reaching for Emma's hand.

"What's wrong with right here?" Emma challenges, patting the sheet for Regina to come back and join her. No, she's called quite enough of the shots so far, and no matter how good it felt, Regina is not allowing that to continue.

"Hey," Regina says, pouting a little. "I went along with your little plan," she adds, leaning back in to whisper in Emma's ear. "Do you want to come or not, Miss Swan?" Regina trails her fingers lazily over Emma's thigh to hammer the point home.

"Fine," Emma grouses, but as she sits up she grabs Regina by the shoulders and pulls her into a searing kiss. "What's your big idea?" Emma asks as she releases Regina's lips, leaving them both breathless and Regina, at least, feeling a little dizzy all over again.

"Here," Regina says as she leads Emma towards the creamy chaise longue that's usually just somewhere to drape clothes while Regina works out a new outfit. Occasionally she'll sit there with a book or some piece of Henry's homework that needs signed, but this time she straddles the open end and beckons for Emma to sit between her legs.

At first Emma moves to kneel, which Regina can't pretend is unappealing, but she guides Emma instead until her bare back is pressed against Regina's breasts, that fountain of blonde curls close enough for Regina to bury her face in, inhaling the fading scent of barely-perfumed shampoo.

Emma notices the mirror right away of course, even as Regina wraps her arms around Emma's torso.

"You seem to think there's no benefit in... looking," Regina explains. "So, let me show you exactly how much fun it can be."

"It was the spying, that I objected to," Emma argues, but she's already meeting Regina's reflected gaze with her own, wriggling just a little to get more comfortable between Regina's thighs.

"Watch," Regina instructs, as she moves her hands into position beneath Emma's breasts, cupping them with determined fingers. She pushes the blonde curls aside with her chin, resting it on Emma's shoulder as they watch each other, warily, in the glass.

Regina begins stroking with her thumbs, just skimming Emma's already tight nipples, luxuriating in the quiet sighs that escape while Emma leans against her.

"Didn't have you down for a tease," Emma accuses, when Regina pulls her thumbs away. Instead she strokes her fingertips over Emma's ribs, tracing unknown patterns and spirals until she's skimming those pronounced hipbones, allowing one hand to skim light-brown curls for a fleeting promise of what's still to come; Regina won't be rushed, won't be distracted.

"You're not watching," Regina says, hands in motion along the insides of Emma's thighs. Regina can't tear her eyes away for long, even as she kisses the planes of Emma's shoulders, sucking and nipping at the pale, unblemished skin. In fact it's almost as white as... no, Regina shakes her head, unwilling to let that ruin a perfectly fun moment. Instead she's staring at Emma in the mirror again, watching Emma not meet her eyes, and enjoying the contrast between them: hair, skin, eyes, complementary but different in every way.

Out of her humdrum clothes, Emma is beautiful, Regina realizes for the first time; beautiful in the way that only princesses ought to be, but it's been hidden very well beneath cheap leather and bargain basement shirts.

"We can't all be as vain as you," Emma counters, turning a little in Regina's embrace, pressing a warm kiss to the corner of her mouth. Regina responds by taking one hand from the underside of Emma's breast and grabbing her chin.

"Eyes front," Regina orders, driving the point home with a flash of teeth over the base of Emma's neck. "We do this my way, or not at all."

"Control freak," Emma mutters, but her head falls back against Regina's shoulder while Regina sucks enthusiastically on her neck, bound to leave another mark but not caring in the slightest. It's somehow important that it hurt, at least a little, that this not be forgotten in a shower and a no doubt awkward goodbye a little while from now.

"You'll learn," Regina says when she relinquishes the tender flesh of Emma's neck, fluttering kisses up towards her earlobe while busy fingers stroke and pluck at painfully erect nipples, causing a series of little sobs to rise and fall from Emma's chest. "That letting me have my way is usually a good idea."

"Fuck," Emma hisses in response, because Regina's trailing one hand south again, pressing fingertips over now-wet curls. When Emma's eyes flutter closed, Regina pulls her hand away sharply. "Alright, I get it," Emma says a moment later, eyes snapping open to show that her green eyes are darkened, pupils almost blown with arousal. She's squirming under Regina's touch, pressing back against her in a bid to get as much contact as possible.

"You force your way into my home," Regina says, her voice huskier than she can ever remember it being. "All confident, all cocky, throwing around demands," Emma sighs as Regina's finger parts wet lips, grazing her clit gently. "But you can't seem to look yourself in the eye, Miss Swan. Not so confident now, are we?"

"Shut up," Emma growls, and Regina can see the effort it takes for Emma to force her eyes back to her own reflection-to both their reflections-while Regina plays her body like some tightly-strung instrument. "And fuck me," she challenges, rocking her hips until she makes contact with Regina's lingering hand.

And the point, really, is made. Regina presses down with intent this time, fingers slipping easily over slick skin, lingering in slow circles over Emma's clit until she's moaning, head thrown back. Regina can't quite get the angle she would like, not like this, but the slow pace is clearly enough to drive Emma halfway insane. She turns to kiss Regina's neck as her fingers keep working, muttering 'yes' and possibly 'please', both of which make Regina smirk as evilly as she ever has.

"That's right," she whispers against Emma's ear. "I'm going to make you come, dear. And you're going to enjoy it."

Regina picks up the pace, rubbing harder on the stiff clit beneath her fingers, feeling the trembling in Emma's thighs that are pressed against her own. When Emma surrenders (and she tries to hold out, Regina can see it in the way Emma grits her teeth, the way she almost draws away from Regina's touch only to seek it out again half a second later) Regina is almost surprised at how close she is herself, how it's just a matter of rubbing her fingers against herself three, maybe four times before she's coming again too, sighing against Emma's shoulder with Regina's hand trapped between their sweat-slicked bodies.

It's not enough, Regina knows. With very little grace she withdraws and all but tumbles from the chaise to the floor. She watches Emma fall back without the support behind her, basically presenting herself to Regina's waiting mouth. Regina said a long time ago that she'd get on her knees for no one, but Emma Swan is a series of contradictions just waiting to tear through Regina's perfectly ordered life, and perhaps that's what drives the fervor of Regina's tongue as she begins to lick and swirl over still-trembling flesh.

She dips her tongue just inside Emma's entrance, almost experimentally. Regina isn't entirely confident in her abilities when it comes to another woman, but it's consistent at least that the nerves only arise long after she's started down that particular path. She would laugh at herself, if she weren't so intent on teaching Emma Swan a lesson she won't soon forget.

Bolder with the thrusts of her tongue now, Regina finds a rhythm that makes anguished breaths catch in Emma's throat until she's coming again with a shriek, Regina's name muffled as Emma clamps a hand over her own mouth, a fraction too late.

"We're not done," Regina says once they've both caught their breath. She can't stop licking her lips, intoxicated by the taste of Emma on her skin. "Come here," she orders, grasping for the authority that usually comes so easily to her. After a long minute, Emma sits up and shakily complies.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Emma asks, and there's a flicker of genuine fear in those wide, untrusting eyes. "Because as a way to go..."

"You seem fit and healthy to me," Regina says, leveraging herself against the chaise that she'll never look at in quite the same way. "So, get on your knees, Miss Swan."

"Go to hell," Emma says, but it's more reflex than anything. Regina takes her by the shoulders, all but pulling her onto the carpet beside her.

"Now, now," Regina warns, suffused with her own power again. "Be nice," she adds, directing Emma onto her hands and knees in front of the mirror, then swatting playfully at her bare ass cheek just for the hell of it.

"Bitch," Emma bites out, but she's staring at them both in the mirror now as Regina moves into position behind her.

"You have no idea," Regina confirms, before sliding two fingers inside Emma, who cries out at the sudden move. "But I have a feeling you won't underestimate me again."

"Fuck," is all Emma can say in response, because Regina's fingers are relentless, curling and twisting at the right point on every thrust to make Emma's legs wobble. Regina reaches out with her free hand to grab at Emma's hair, the blonde curls hanging loose and messy now, but Regina's grip is every bit as fierce as the way Emma grabbed her in the hallway not so long ago. "Ow!" Emma protests, but her reflected face betrays that she likes it, that she's biting down on her lip and panting just a little bit harder.

Regina adds a third finger, her hand pumping back and forth hard enough to make her think maybe she'll pull a muscle, but it's hard to care when Emma's body is so warm and welcoming and able to take whatever Regina is dishing out. She can't remember ever being so well matched, and that's every bit as thrilling as the noises and curses falling from Emma's lips.

"Oh God!" Emma wails, and her whole body is shaking when she comes for a third and final time. Regina laughs, genuinely, as she feels the pulsating around her fingers, even when Emma collapses on the floor and all but drags Regina down with her.

Regina gets both hands free, but she only rolls far enough to not be pinning Emma to the carpet anymore. They lie side by side, facing away from each other, harsh breaths in counterpoint in the otherwise silent room. It's Emma, pleasingly, who caves first, recovering enough to turn and throw an arm (and belatedly a leg) over Regina's naked body and pull her close.

"There's a bed," Regina points out, as Emma's arm squeezes her torso.

"In a minute," Emma mumbles, sounding utterly spent. "I wasn't gonna stay."

"Can you walk?" Regina asks, not unreasonably.

"I'm not even sure I'll make it to the bed," Emma groans.

"Then stay," Regina says quietly, surprised at how tender her voice sounds. That's nothing compared to her shock at what she's actually saying. Nobody stays, ever, and Regina's bedroom is hers alone. She should be kicking Emma Swan out into the night now, having her return the son she had no right to send away, but Regina can't bring herself to want that.

She wants this woman, with her insanely good body and talented mouth, to stay with her a little longer. She wants a morning that might just be about sex instead of the school run. She wants something for herself after ten years of giving it all up just to prove she might be capable of feeling happy again.

She feels happy, Regina realizes too late, actually gasping at the thought. Well, maybe it's some kind of post-orgasmic haze, but it's better than she's felt in a very long time. All these years hiding from this kind of openness, these pointless risks with her body and her heart, and it's taken a brand new enemy to collapse her carefully constructed world.

It's not fair, really. But Regina doesn't have the energy to fight it, not tonight.

"Get up," she commands, nudging Emma in the ribs with her elbow. "It's not far."

In a tangled, fumbling mess they manage to get off the floor. Emma looks uncomfortable, and Regina's sure that she's thinking about bolting; it's certainly her usual routine if Sidney's research is any guide. And yet Emma is holding Regina's hand as they stumble towards the bed, and she's kissing Regina's lips without waiting to be asked, and Emma's pulling the sheets over them while they kiss, and she isn't going anywhere at all.

"You know," Emma says, when she stops kissing for a moment. "I didn't think to ask if you have security cameras. Am I going to find this on YouTube tomorrow?"

"Of course not, dear," Regina replies, rolling her eyes. "Although it might be worth burning a DVD for my own collection."

"You're... kidding?" Emma asks hopefully.

"We shall see," Regina says, trying very hard not to laugh.