A/N: In honor of my favorite 'Fic Buddy': Scribbles joining Tumblr, here is the long delayed next part. Everyone follow her and heart her posts! This chapter is a little bit rougher, note the rating change. Emma is sick of Regina flaunting her titties and becomes a bit sanity challenged.
Regina stood on the square dress podium in the large room, turning this way and that in front of the large trifold mirror showing off her new dress. Regina stopped admiring her own form for a millisecond and caught Emma's eyes in the reflection, "See something you like, dear?"
Emma looked away; she must have been staring. Regina shifted her weight from one leg to the other and in the process she swayed her hips hypnotizing Emma just like Kaa trying to eat Mowgli in "The Jungle Book." Regina posed with one leg forward, a long tantalizing strip of thigh jutting through the very high slit up the side of the blood red strapless number that fit her like a glove.
"Oh, um, red looks nice on you," Emma shook her head trying to vaporize the thought that she and Regina were alone and she was next to naked with her.
"Yes, lovely, isn't it? I had it specially made to match the exact shade of red as my perfectly ripe apples." Regina's eyes flicked over the dress once more, she ran her hands slowly down the front of the silk, and then she looked over to Emma to gauge her reaction.
Emma felt her hands slip over the sweating bottle of cold champagne she was still clutching, "Maybe I should go…I have some errands to run, and you can just call me when Rafael has my bra ready."
"Nonsense, and what are you going to wear out of here? Unless you plan on parading the street like lady Godiva, clothed in nothing but your hair, I suggest you stay. You already have one complaint of indecency pending, I'd hate to see you acquire any more," Regina stalked close; her hand darted out to flip a strand of Emma's hair from her shoulder.
"Try something on? The green one with the peacock feathers, it matches your eyes," Regina said insistently.
"Um, I'd rather not- I just have to look at something and it wrinkles or rips," Emma took a step back, averting her eyes. She wasn't comfortable with the way Regina was looking into them.
Regina huffed and her normal bitchy expression returned, and she stalked back up on the pedestal to preen, turning sideways, "Fine, then make yourself useful and pour us some drinks."
"You really like mirrors, don't you?"
"No dear, mirrors like me," Regina pushed her chin up proudly and strained to check out her own ass.
Emma walked around the room, trying to focus on something other than Regina. She pushed through the rack of dresses; each was hung and categorized to an anal retentive degree.
"Is this a wedding dress?" Emma stopped on a big white frilly number in a garment bag.
"It is not a dress. It's a gown," Regina corrected as her voice wavered slightly, "Eh hem, are you going to open that Champagne or just hold it until it gets warm?"
"I'm not really good at corks, but I'll try…" Emma removed the foil and twisted the little cage over the cork. She started to clumsily pull on the tight cork, but her hand just slipped off, and the bottle dropped on the carpet. She picked it back up and put in between her knees, and pulled harder on the stubborn piece.
"Stop!" Regina lunged across the room to snatch the bottle, as everything seemed to go in slow-motion, "Youuuuu stuuuuuuuuupid morrooonnnn!"
Just as Regina was directly in front of the bottle the cork popped off and whizzed by her head, the Champagne exploded in a volcanic gushy eruption of white foam which drenched Regina's chest. Her silk dress was soaked in sticky sweet liquid as was her skin; it ran in streams down the valley between her breasts.
Emma held the bottle out as it continued to spill, finally slowing to a trickle. Regina held her hands out like claws, frozen in shock and screaming in anger. She fully took in the devastation done to the silk dress. For a moment, Emma was sure Regina was going to melt like the Wicked Witch of the West. From the way she was reacting it was like Emma had soaked her in acid or set her on fire.
Regina's face was bright red, the vein on her forehead throbbing prominently. Regina turned her fury on Emma, coming at her, claws out, "Do you know that this dress is worth more than your—your everything!"
She pushed Emma against the wall, and closed her hand around Emma's throat. Emma brought the nearly empty champagne bottle up like a club to hit Regina, but only succeeded in dripping the rest of the bottle onto her own bare body as Regina dragged her down to the floor.
Regina tried to balance her attention between unzipping her dress in an attempt at salvage and backhanding Emma across the face. Just as the zip slipped, and Regina ceased hitting her, Emma surged forward grabbing Regina's bodice for leverage and hoisted herself up to a sitting position. Regina struck back in a series of open fluttering hits, but Emma got over on her. She scrambled to her knees and forced Regina onto her back. Emma straddled her hips and grabbed her wrists pinning them over her head. The stretch of her arms and gravity caused Regina's breasts to slip out of the loose strapless gown which now hung useless and ruined beneath her ribs.
Emma's knee caught in the skirt of the dress which caused a new rip. Regina couldn't seem to get ahold of herself. She kicked and bucked her hips, but Emma had the advantage, as she pressed her inner thighs tighter against Regina's outer.
Emma had reached her breaking point. It was just a stupid dress, and she had a hundred more just like it: one more beautiful than the next. She was sick of Regina having control over her job, her kid and even her bra choices. Most of all, Emma was tired of the way Regina flaunted herself in front of her just out of reach. She always wore a little knowing smirk which told Emma she knew exactly the effect she had on her. That fact pissed Emma off even more.
Now it was Emma's turn to be in control. Regina's eyes darted back and forth nervously as Emma slid her hand around Regina's throat. She felt the throb of her pulse hammering under her thumb as she stroked up and down. Regina bucked her hips again, but not in a way that suggested she wanted Emma to move. It was a more rhythmic rolling motion that suggested she wanted Emma closer.
"Get me off now!….um…I mean: get off me!" Regina croaked unconvincingly, flushing in embarrassment at her little slip of tongue. Emma could recognize all the signs of Regina's arousal: Her parted lips and shallow panting breaths, her deep, dark eyes and the fact that she was shamelessly staring at Emma's breasts as they hovered over her face.
This wasn't an unfamiliar situation for either woman. They had found themselves engaged in physical arguments quite frequently, but this time was different. There was no one around to break them up or any dire consequences to attend to. The fight was fast morphing into something no less aggressive but also highly sexual.
"You want me to get you off? Then that's exactly what I'll do, Regina. I'm going to fuck that smirk right off your face," Emma brought her lips so close to Regina's threatening to kiss her, but then she pulled away and focused her attention lower. Emma descended on Regina's chest, lapping at the rivulets of champagne trailing between her beautiful breasts. She could feel the vibration of Regina's heartbeat through her tongue. She licked the soft skin of the underside of her left breast, sucking gently on the skin.
Regina continued to writhe, while Emma kept one hand on her throat, and the other rubbed vigorously at Regina's chest, as she unleashed all of the aggression and desire that had pent up for far too long. Regina's hands flailed, her nails dug into the plush carpet, but she made no further movements to toss Emma off of her. She moaned verbal encouragement as Emma sucked a pert nipple between her lips, rolling it hard and then biting and tugging up on it until Regina let out a sharp cry of pain.
In retaliation, Regina reached up and twisted both of Emma's nipples, squeezing them hard in handfuls. Emma sat up and licked her lips, she found the top of Regina's dress slit and ripped it apart so she could gain unrestricted access between Regina's legs. Emma stilled her fingers, rapping them lightly on Regina's thigh just out of reach of where Regina wanted, "Tell me to stop, tell me you don't want me to find out just how wet you are."
Regina ground her teeth, trying to stifle the sudden urge to beg Emma to touch her. Emma's fingertips stroked through ample wetness, which clearly betrayed Regina's attempt to downplay her want. Emma moved back and forth coaxing out breathy musical little gasps from Regina's lips.
Regina couldn't take any more teasing, her pelvis bolted up against Emma's hand, and she spat out in a lustful rush of words, "Fuck me with as many fingers as you can force inside!"