AN: some (mild) mature content and non-descriptive discussions of rape. 

The moment Emma feels Regina press her lips against her own, Emma's physique relaxes, though her heart does nothing to slow down. The quickened pulse slams against her chest, laboring her breathing as the brunette impossibly close to her steals what was left of her breath away. Emma's head fogs (she has more than half a mind to know that it has nothing to do with the empty scotch glasses sitting nearby) as she focuses on one thing and one thing only--the woman in front of her, capturing her in a perfect kiss.

This time, the timing is perfect--nothing is rushed, and both women feel the liberty to explore each other in a new light as slowly as they need. This doesn't take away the anxiety and uncertainty though; Emma's about eighty percent sure that Regina will pull away at any given moment and leave her again, and though part of her is longing to go further, the logical part of her is screaming at her to stop before she gets hurt.

But since when has Emma Swan done anything logical? No, her idea of logic usually consists of doing the first thing that comes to mind, and dealing with whatever consequences that may come later. If that doesn't shine through in her actions as of late, she doesn't know what does. But this time, with Regina finally in her arms after what felt like at least three lifetimes of waiting, she's able to put her reckless behavior on hold. She really, really wants to go about this the right way, wants to treat her with nothing less than respect.

That's why when Emma's arms travel up to caress the brunette's neck, she breaks away from the heated kiss and rests her bottom lip against the other woman's. "Is this okay?" She asks, breathless and the tone of her voice never rising above anything short of a whisper.

"Yes," Regina consents into her mouth, then as if telling her wordlessly to shut up, she connects their lips once more.

Emma pulls away once more, and, ignoring Regina's pouting, slightly confused expression, she ducks her head down and begins her journey of leaving a trail down the brunette's neck. Regina, now understanding, tilts her head back and allows it, an unspoken invitation for Emma to continue what she knows how to do so well. Emma certainly hadn't forgotten Regina's weak spot, but she takes her time getting there. She eyes it: just below her jawline, sitting on the left side of her throat, just begging for attention. Unable to reign herself in, she lifts and moves her mouth directly on top of the area. Her lips just graze it at first, and she sees the goosebumps erupt across olive skin--the slight contact making it all the more precious. Slowly, Emma applies more pressure, then finally she's parting her lips (completely forgone of their pale pink lip gloss at this point) to allow her teeth to do the rest. Regina jerks forward, an accidental moan escaping her as Emma nurses the spot, then sits back to admire her work. Already, a mark is starting to form, and Emma feels an overwhelming sense of pride as she surveys it. She did this, Regina had let her do that, that was her mark. Even if Regina leaves the next day, she'll have that reminder of what had been okay at this very moment.

Emma lifts her head and gives a small grin. "You liked that?"

"Do shut up." Regina retorts haughtily, and just as Emma's about to dig into the banter, Regina's sliding her hand under Emma's jawline and kissing her much more fiercely than before.

Oh, I see. Less talk, more kissing. Emma agrees, and allows herself to deepen the kiss, exploring the depth of the other woman's mouth while savoring the heavenly feel of impossibly soft and plump lips entirely encasing hers, surely smudging her perfect lipstick. That image excites her more, and she purposely shifts her mouth beneath hers to inflict more damage.

Regina feeds off her energy, returning the fierceness and begins to bite and suck on Emma's lower lip. She wants more, craves it, as the pulsing between her thighs and the buzz in her head spur on her excitement--but she feels a different sort of pull than the first time. In New York, the need had been that of a lust; she'd been afraid as labeling it anything else in her mind though deep down she knew it was much more than casual sex--but this time, she's thoroughly accepting it as something more. Despite her physical aches and needs just asking to be fulfilled by the blonde currently scraping her blunt fingernails across her scalp, she feels an internal pull--one from her heart--that feels much more like making love than something as casual as banging. She latches on to Emma's train of consent, so as her hands creep up to the hem of Emma's sweater, she stops them as soon as her fingertips connect with the soft fabric. Using the other woman's repetitive question that seems to come so easily to her, she shifts the connection of their lips and inquires, "Is this okay?"

Emma needs no more clarification for the question than the slight tug of her sweater against her skin as Regina's hands tremble against it, wordlessly begging to lift it off of her frame. She readies herself to answer in the affirmative, ready to damn it all and lift the article from her torso in one fluid motion as she longs to feel much more contact than what's already being granted her, but something shifts within her. Panic rises like acid from her gut, and her eyes snap open, the vivid shade of green seemingly darker and wilder than before. She breaks the contact almost completely and eyes the brunette's dazed and shaken expression.

"It's not. I--I just assumed--" Regina backpedals instantly, a rare shade of red gracing her features as she struggles to regain her composure with mussed hair and overly smeared lipstick covering her chin.

Emma shakes her head slowly, not liking where Regina was going with this-- but preoccupied with the war in her head raging on as her heart slams against her chest. She's completely paranoid now--the constant voice in her head screaming deafeningly loud, shaking her eardrums, ordering her to run, because she's scared, no, she's terrified that Regina sees this as nothing more than she had last time, caught up in the moment, and will leave her the same exact way. She doesn't want to go through it all, she doesn't want anything taken advantage of on her body, her old rape wounds ripped afresh when Hook had her unceremoniously slammed against a graffiti-covered wall in an alleyway.  "I'm scared," she manages finally, unsure as to why she's confining to the woman who is seemingly the source of her sudden panic. Though it's not the brunette exactly--she finds herself shaking with the memories of the assault.

Regina, sensing Emma's hurt at once, puts out her hand, (slowly, though--she doesn't want her to feel at all threatened) offering up: "Then we won't." She doesn't ask for elaboration--nothing more than respect for her feelings, no matter how far they may be from the truth.

"What?" Emma falters, aghast by her reaction.

"If you don't feel comfortable, we won't." Regina declares, drawing back to give her space. "I understand. I also was the victim of unwanted intercourse--with Leopold that is--and I would never do the same to you."

"No-one's ever.." Emma trails off, mouth slightly unhinged as the panic from her previous flashback slowly subsides as her heart rate normalizes.

"You deserve nothing less." Regina says decidedly; not in a tone that's meant to be sickly sweet and loving, but more as though she's relating a known fact.

"I thought you were going to..."

"Leave?" Regina finishes, with some remorse flickering over the planes of her face as she twists her hands together in front of her. When Emma doesn't correct her, she continues. "I'm...sorry that I caused you panic for that. I wish that I hadn't done what I had in New York but I was just scared--" she breaks off, and suddenly the run in her tights (when had that happened?) is exceedingly interesting. She examines it as she finds it somewhere within the depths of her courage to continue. "--because I......love you, too." She finishes extremely softly, but not soft enough to miss.

Emma feels pressure against her ears as the world around her seems to stop completely--everything but the woman in front of her could have disappeared in that moment and she never would have realized. The only sound left in the world is the reverberating echo of the words just uttered by Regina. "Because I love you, too." When Emma lifts her eyes, she notices that Regina had been staring right into them with glassy, chocolate brown eyes filled to the brim with an ocean of emotion and softness that somehow seems to convey love in a thousand different ways.

"Regina," Emma forces out, as no other words come to mind. As it seems, a novel of a response is being subconsciously written in her mind but none of the newly formed words are anything that could be spoken.

As much as she wants to, Regina refuses to back away from her confession. She lets it run its course, allows it to ring between them for as long as it's needed--as the seconds busy themselves into feeling like hours--and some brave part of her she hadn't known she owned possesses her to stare into the sea of green inches away. She wants so badly to kiss her; she longs to confirm her sentence with a seal of her affection, but no pull even as strong as this one will make her perform an act Emma's not comfortable with. No, Emma will make the next move.

And that she does. Emma senses the magnet, and her eyes flutter shut behind thick eyelashes as she leans forward and brushes her lips once more against Regina's. Though the confirmation and the acceptance causes the brunette's heart to jump into her throat with joy and longing, she forces herself to stop long enough to make sure her lover is certain. "Are you sure?" She asks, staring hard into Emma's soft, slightly pink face.

Emma takes her time in answering, as all the pieces to her acceptance form together in her mind. Then, "Yes."

Regina allows herself to smile then, a bright, brilliant smile that shows all of her teeth and reaches all the way up to her teary eyes. "We made it,"

Emma pulls her own version of the sappy grin as she lets out a quick exhale of laughter. "Sure as hell."

"What do you want to do?" Regina asks once more, not letting her emotions cloud any of her judgement.

"I want...." Emma begins, as she traces Regina's jawline with the edge of her finger, "..to kiss you.."

"And then?"

"I would like to kiss you some more," Emma jests, as Regina laughs--and it's the most beautiful sound Emma's ever heard.

"And then?--we don't have to go any further," Regina clarifies, ignoring the ever-growing spark within her as she tries and fails not to focus on Emma's free hand that's snaking up her thigh.

"What if I want to?" Emma tests.

"Then we will. But only if you're ready."

Emma takes a breath, then another. "I am."

Regina smiles, bites her lip for good measure, and toys with the hem of Emma's sweater once more. She raises it--then hikes it up further, then suddenly it's pooled on the carpeting. Emma's boots and jeans soon follow, then undergarments and a black hair tie from Emma's blonde locks. Regina reaches behind to remove her own clothes, but Emma shakes her head.

"Let me." She caresses the other woman, straddling her as she clasps the zipper on the back of the dress between her fingertips, then slowly pulls it down. The dress soon joins the pile, then Regina reaches for her black stilettos.

She's stopped by Emma once more, and gives her a curious look. "Keep them on," Emma insists, and Regina understands far too well. A smile curls her lips, partway in amusement and halfway in something much dirtier than that.

"I see," she quips, and unclasps her bra from behind, then lowers her arms, allowing it to slowly slide off her otherwise naked frame.

From her position, Emma stares in awe of the woman in front of her, unsure of how she was granted with someone such as she. Someone who..loves her. "I'm so fucking lucky," she mutters, as she shivers with something completely separate from cold when Regina slowly reclines on top of her.

"I'm going to grant every one of your wishes, Emma, and I don't need a single ounce of magic in my being to do it."

AN: yaaaaas the truth bomb! Loveee ☺️.

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