Having told Henry his bedtime story and tucked him in bed, Emma entered the kitchen where the love of her life was baking apple pies for a charity benefit. She'd been living in the mansion with Regina and Henry for the last few months, and she couldn't be happier. She never thought she would enjoy domesticity, with the Evil Queen of all people, but here she was reveling in the delicious aroma of baked goods and her girlfriend wearing an apron while standing next to a hot oven. She wondered how it was possible to look so sexy while covered head to toe in flour. She allowed her eyes to follow a downward path as she watched Regina bend over to check the oven, the pencil skirt riding up her toned thighs. On impulse, Emma moved behind her and ran a teasing hand up the back of her skirt.
Regina closed the oven and stood straight up, "Emma Swan, you know you're not allowed in here while I'm baking."
"Because you always follow rules to the letter," Emma teased, putting her free arm around the former mayor's waist. She knew Regina always said she hated to be distracted while cooking, but sometimes, she just couldn't help herself.
Relaxing into Emma's hold, Regina whimpered as she felt soft hands ghost her inner thigh, "This is the last pie. You aren't playing fair."
Emma leaned in to whisper seductively in Regina's ear, "Is that what you really want? For me to leave you, alone and unsatisfied, desperately craving what you can't have…your majesty?"
"Emma, this is for the children. Remember, charity benefit for the orphanage? I swear, 20 minutes, and I'll be upstairs in your arms, in our bed, and don't you dare even think of stopping," Regina muttered breathlessly, her thoughts short-circuiting as warm lips devoured her neck and tender fingers kneaded her breasts through silk lace. She started to turn around, but discovered she was being held firmly in place.
Relishing how Regina's body molded perfectly into her own, Emma's heartbeat quickened, "You have to keep an eye on the oven. If you stop looking at the oven, I'll stop, got it?"
"Just one thing first," Regina turned her head slightly, meeting Emma's lips in a kiss that was both loving and passionate. If she wasn't quite so aroused, she would be making the blonde pay for a week. She asked, "I still get to touch you, right?"
"As long as you are still looking at the oven," Emma grinned mischievously. She planted a string of kisses from Regina's neck to her shoulders, deftly unhooking her bra with one hand while caressing her leg with the other.
Regina's apron came untied on its own. She thought to herself she must not have tied it tightly enough, but then she really hadn't been expecting this. Her eyes trained on the oven door, she moved her hands behind herself to touch her lover. The denim felt rough beneath her fingertips, but she continued to explore until she found the snap and zipper on Emma's jeans. She needed both hands, yet she still made quick work of the offending clasps. She started to reach a hand inside Emma's jeans only to be once again stopped by the blonde. Regina let out a low growl, "You said I could touch."
"Slow down a little. I'm not going anywhere. Just enjoy feeling my hands all over your body for a while, caressing your shoulders, your arms, your stomach, your breasts, stopping just short of the one place that will increase your desire tenfold," Emma purred, taking the offending hands underneath her own as she slowly investigated the woman in front of her.
Regina moaned in pleasure at the sensations she was encountering. Sure, she had touched herself plenty of times, but the experience of Emma physically aiding the process was new and divine. She wanted so badly to taste Emma's lips, but couldn't without taking her eyes off the oven.
As promised, Emma guided their hands over silk-covered shoulders, firm arms, and underneath Regina's shirt to stroke her taut stomach. Spurred on by Regina's shallow breaths, Emma directed their hands to Regina's breasts, fondling and pinching her already hardened nipples. She continued softly, "Just imagine that my lips are sucking and biting your nipples, slowly and reverently because we have all the time in the world. Worshipping you the way you deserve."
Regina gasped, letting her eyes close for just a brief moment, praying that Emma didn't notice. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and her panties were soaked in anticipation. She stared ahead at the oven, noticing the timer said ten more minutes. Ten more minutes and she could ravish her girlfriend in a proper bed. She couldn't wait that long. She cried out, "Emma, please. I need you."
Emma saw that Regina had shut her eyes and couldn't resist teasing her about not following rules after the way Regina had greeted her earlier. On the other hand, the foreplay had been just as stimulating to Emma, and she didn't want to stop. She decided to prolong her torment just a little bit. She immediately removed her hands from Regina's body, hoping that Regina wouldn't call her bluff, "What did I say?"
"Emma Swan, if you stop now, you'll be sleeping on the couch for a week! My eyes are on the oven, I swear," Regina insisted. She leaned back against the other woman, putting her hands behind her back again. She deftly inserted her hand inside Emma's jeans without being stopped this time, searching for the confirmation that Emma needed her just as desperately.
Emma whimpered at the contact, shifting slightly to give Regina a better angle. The chill of her lover's fingers stroking her was a welcome sensation against the warmth of her arousal. Her pride was secondary to her need to feel the other woman clenching around her fingers, coming undone for her and only her. She acquiesced, putting her hands back in their previous positions, massaging breasts and stomach from behind. Her fingers dipped inside the soft fabric to squeeze already pointed nipples. She spoke, her voice deep with lust, "That's my girl. Just what would you like as your reward…where would you like me to touch you?"
"What I want is for you to finish what you started. At the rate you're going, I'm going to have a burnt pie on my hands," Regina grumbled, more for show than anything. She was enjoying the game of not being able to see where Emma's hands were. The lack of visual aids caused her other senses to be heightened, especially sound, smell and touch. Regina thought she would fall over the edge just from the sound of Emma's voice telling her in great detail what her hands were going to do.
Emma moved one of her hands inside the pencil skirt in front of her and the waistband of the brunette's panties, speaking slowly as she did so, "As…you…wish."
Regina inhaled sharply as Emma entered her slick folds and began thrusting at an agonizingly slow pace. She tried to encourage her to move faster by increasing the speed and depth with which her own fingers plunged in and out of Emma's wetness. When Emma didn't catch the hint, Regina asserted, "And if I wish you to add another finger, stretching me and filling me while you rub your thumb on my clit, faster and faster until I squirt all over your hands?"
"Why, Regina Mills, I thought you'd never ask," Emma grinned as she adhered to her girlfriend's instructions to the letter. She was quickly rewarded with muscles clamping, a sea of wetness, and a cry she muffled with her free hand before allowing her own orgasm to follow. Only after their bodies had calmed from the aftershocks did Emma realize that she was now also covered in flour.
The timer went off, and Regina untangled herself to take the pie out of the oven to cool and cover it with aluminum foil. She leaned in to kiss Emma, "There…all done. I think we need a shower before bed."
"You are insatiable," Emma sighed melodramatically as she pulled her girlfriend up the stairs, a wicked glint in her eyes exposing her enthusiasm. Domesticity definitely had its benefits, and well, who could say no to being with Regina Mills 24/7?