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She could admit, a bit, that Emma Swan intrigued her. Alright, she fascinated her. But she would never admit it. Regina Mills, the Evil Queen, was above everyone else. She knew her worth; she knew her value. There was a reason she was feared and adored in equal measure. But Emma? Well, Emma was interesting. Who would have thought the product of the union between Snow White and Prince Charming would have shades of gray? Certainly not her.
Regina looked at Emma in the darkened room, sleeping in her bed, laying on her stomach with the sheet partway up her back with a few rays of early morning sun filtering in from the windows. She had always enjoyed pleasure regardless of who provided it, indulging in her more debauched side in the Enchanted Forest prior to the Dark Curse being cast, to fit the nature of being the Evil Queen. If she was going to be the Evil Queen she would indulge in her wildest, darkest passions discreetly, and indulge she did. The Huntsman had often been her main choice of consort, something that had continued after the curse had been cast, but there had been other men, and sometimes women, though that had been rare. Not many people of either sex excited her beyond the act, but they scratched itches she had been afraid to scratch while under her mother's thumb, and it had thrilled her. The people who she indulged her desires with were of no importance, really, but then she'd had a hardened heart since Daniel had died and no matter how many lovers she had, she had no love for them, not like she had loved Daniel. But she had accepted that lot in life and carried it into this new world.
When the curse was settled and she was Mayor Regina Mills, she had to be proper. That was the only downside to the curse, and while she had Graham to sleep with, there wasn’t a woman in Storybrooke who stirred her interest, until Henry brought Emma there. She had softened after she had adopted Henry, she could admit that. It had filled something in her heart, but not everything. Emma filled another space; not in the same way, and not in the same depth, but she was...important. In some ways she reminded her of Daniel, and that would hurt, but it wasn't an overwhelming hurt now that she had let Daniel finally have the peace he had deserved. And sometimes she would remind her of Graham. The heady passion she felt with Emma was stronger than it had ever been with Graham, but it was reminiscent of sneaking around with her boytoy.
She would give Emma a few more minutes of her attention before she went to make them coffee. Not that she would kick Emma out of bed, but both of them were early risers and if they wanted to indulge in more sensual pleasures, they only had a limited amount of time before Henry came home and Emma went to her place; as much as she hated to admit owing anything to the Charmings, Henry spending weekends with his biological grandparents now that Emma had moved out had its advantages. Whatever it was going on between her and Emma she didn’t want Henry to know just yet, at least if he hadn’t figured it out already. She and her son were on better terms now that the curse had been lifted and everyone remembered, and she was on civil terms with Snow White and Prince Charming, much to her surprise, but whatever this was between her and Emma was theirs. It had no label, and she didn’t really want it to have one just yet. It wasn’t love, not at all, but it was more than just lust. She was enjoying it, but she didn’t want it broadcast to the town, where people would judge.
But Henry’s opinion and, to an extent, Emma’s?
That mattered.
There was a grudging but mutual respect between her and Emma, but Emma had her own life, her job as sheriff, and other relationships of a non-sexual nature to satisfy her, and she didn't want to jeopardize any of that with people not understanding whatever their developing relationship was. Emma's own relationship with Henry and her parents were her business, but she had observed that generally Emma was someone who kept her emotions and thoughts to herself for the most part, and she could relate. When they were done being intimate there was no lovey-dovey pillow talk, as that wasn’t her style, or Emma’s either, but there was comfort in sharing the same space as they dozed. They had their own routines when Emma was there that almost bordered on domestic, though Emma never came over when Henry was there unless there was official town business to take care of. She knew eventually things would change, in some way, but for now she was enjoying the indulgence of intimacy she hadn't felt in a long time.
Emma stirred slightly and the sheet slipped down more, showing the barest hint of the soft curve of a breast and Regina smiled slightly. There were bite marks on both of them, nowhere where they could be seen, and Emma’s handcuffs had been involved. They had been put to good use multiple times during their trysts, but last night had been the first time she had allowed Emma to use them on her. Not that she hadn’t been tied up before with silk scarves by Emma, but handcuffs left marks as she strained against them. She glanced at the red mark on her wrist and felt herself hit with a pang of lust. The mark would fade but for now, as she pulled her gaze away from her sleeping lover and made her way to the kitchen, she couldn’t wait for another dalliance before Henry came home that evening.